A thousand deaths by Jack London

squandered. El-Soo stood at six thousand. He made it seven thousand. And

then, in thousand-dollar bids, as fast as they could be uttered, her price

went up. At fourteen thousand the two men stopped for breath.

Then the unexpected happened. A still heavier club was swung. In the

pause that ensued, the gambler, who had scented a speculation and formed

a syndicate with several of his fellows, bid sixteen thousand dollars.

“Seventeen thousand,” Porportuk said weakly.

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“Eighteen thousand,” said the king.

Porportuk gathered his strength. “Twenty thousand.”

The syndicate dropped out. The Eldorado king raised a thousand, and

Porportuk raised back; and as they bid, Akoon turned from one to the

other, half menacingly, half curiously, as though to see what manner of

man it was that he would have to kill. When the king prepared to make his

next bid, Akoon having pressed closer, the king first loosed the revolver at

his hip, then said: —

“Twenty-three thousand.”

“Twenty-four thousand,” said Porportuk. He grinned viciously, for the

certitude of his bidding had at last shaken the king. The latter moved over

close to El-Soo. He studied her carefully, for a long while.

“And five hundred,” he said at last.

“Twenty-five thousand,” came Porportuk’s raise.

The king looked for a long space, and shook his head. He looked again,

and said reluctantly, “And five hundred.”

“Twenty-six thousand,” Porportuk snapped.

The king shook his head and refused to meet Tommy’s pleading eye. In

the meantime Akoon had edged close to Porportuk. El-Soo’s quick eye

noted this, and, while Tommy wrestled with the Eldorado king for another

bid, she bent, and spoke in a low voice in the ear of a slave. And while

Tommy’s “Going — going — going — ” dominated the air, the slave went

up to Akoon and spoke in a low voice in his ear. Akoon made no sign that

he had heard, though El-Soo watched him anxiously.

“Gone!” Tommy’s voice rang out. “To Porportuk, for twenty-six thousand

dollars.”

Porportuk glanced uneasily at Akoon. All eyes were centred upon Akoon,

but he did nothing.

“Let the scales be brought,” said El-Soo.

“I shall make payment at my house,” said Porportuk.

“Let the scales be brought,” El-Soo repeated. “Payment shall be made here

where all can see.”

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81

So the gold-scales were brought from the trading post, while Porportuk

went away and came back with a man at his heels, on whose shoulders

was a weight of gold-dust in moose-hide sacks. Also, at Porportuk’s back,

walked another man with a rifle, who had eyes only for Akoon.

“Here are the notes and mortgages,” said Porportuk, “for fifteen thousand

nine hundred and sixty-seven dollars and seventy-five cents.”

El-Soo received them into her hands and said to Tommy, “Let them be

reckoned as sixteen thousand.”

“There remains ten thousand dollars to be paid in gold,” Tommy said.

Porportuk nodded, and untied the mouths of the sacks. El-Soo, standing at

the edge of the bank, tore the papers to shreds and sent them fluttering out

over the Yukon. The weighing began, but halted.

“Of course, at seventeen dollars,” Porportuk had said to Tommy, as he

adjusted the scales.

“At sixteen dollars,” El-Soo said sharply.

“It is the custom of all the land to reckon gold at seventeen dollars for each

ounce,” Porportuk replied. “And this is a business transaction.”

El-Soo laughed. “It is a new custom,” she said. “It began this spring. Last

year, and the years before, it was sixteen dollars an ounce. When my

father’s debt was made, it was sixteen dollars. When he spent at the store

the money he got from you, for one ounce he was given sixteen dollars’

worth of flour, not seventeen. Wherefore, shall you pay for me at sixteen,

and not at seventeen.” Porportuk grunted and allowed the weighing to

proceed.

“Weigh it in three piles, Tommy,” she said. “A thousand dollars here, three

thousand here, and here six thousand.”

It was slow work, and, while the weighing went on, Akoon was closely

watched by all.

“He but waits till the money is paid,” one said; and the word went around

and was accepted, and they waited for what Akoon should do when the

money was paid. And Porportuk’s man with the rifle waited and watched

Akoon.

The weighing was finished, and the gold-dust lay on the table in three

dark-yellow heaps. “There is a debt of my father to the Company for three

thousand dollars,” said El-Soo. “Take it, Tommy, for the Company. And

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82

here are four old men, Tommy. You know them. And here is one thousand

dollars. Take it, and see that the old men are never hungry and never

without tobacco.”

Tommy scooped the gold into separate sacks. Six thousand dollars

remained on the table. El-Soo thrust the scoop into the heap, and with a

sudden turn whirled the contents out and down to the Yukon in a golden

shower. Porportuk seized her wrist as she thrust the scoop a second time

into the heap.

“It is mine,” she said calmly. Porportuk released his grip, but he gritted his

teeth and scowled darkly as she continued to scoop the gold into the river

till none was left.

The crowd had eyes for naught but Akoon, and the rifle of Porportuk’s

man lay across the hollow of his arm, the muzzle directed at Akoon a yard

away, the man’s thumb on the hammer. But Akoon did nothing.

“Make out the bill of sale,” Porportuk said grimly.

And Tommy made out the bill of sale, wherein all right and title in the

woman El-Soo was vested in the man Porportuk. El-Soo signed the

document, and Porportuk folded it and put it away in his pouch. Suddenly

his eyes flashed, and in sudden speech he addressed El-Soo.

“But it was not your father’s debt,” he said. “What I paid was the price for

you. Your sale is business of to-day and not of last year and the years

before. The ounces paid for you will buy at the post to-day seventeen

dollars of flour, and not sixteen. I have lost a dollar on each ounce. I have

lost six hundred and twenty-five dollars.”

El-Soo thought for a moment, and saw the error she had made. She smiled,

and then she laughed.

“You are right,” she laughed. “I made a mistake. But it is too late. You

have paid, and the gold is gone. You did not think quick. It is your loss.

Your wit is slow these days, Porportuk. You are getting old.”

He did not answer. He glanced uneasily at Akoon, and was reassured. His

lips tightened, and a hint of cruelty came into his face. “Come,” he said,

“we will go to my house.”

“Do you remember the two things I told you in the spring?” El-Soo asked,

making no movement to accompany him.

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83

“My head would be full with the things women say, did I heed them,” he

answered.

“I told you that you would be paid,” El-Soo went on carefully. “And I told

you that I would never be your wife.”

“But that was before the bill of sale.” Porportuk crackled the paper

between his fingers inside the pouch. “I have bought you before all the

world. You belong to me. You will not deny that you belong to me.”

“I belong to you,” El-Soo said steadily.

“I own you.”

“You own me.”

Porportuk’s voice rose slightly and triumphantly. “As a dog, own you.”

“As a dog you own me,” El-Soo continued calmly. “But, Porportuk, you

forget the thing I told you. Had any other man bought me, I should have

been that man’s wife. I should have been a good wife to that man. Such

was my will. But my will with you was that I should never be your wife.

Wherefore, I am your dog.”

Porportuk knew that he played with fire, and he resolved to play firmly.

“Then I speak to you, not as El-Soo, but as a dog,” he said; “and I tell you

to come with me.” He half reached to grip her arm, but with a gesture she

held him back.

“Not so fast, Porportuk. You buy a dog. The dog runs away. It is your loss.

I am your dog. What if I run away?”

“As the owner of the dog, I shall beat you — ”

“When you catch me?”

“When I catch you.”

“Then catch me.”

He reached swiftly for her, but she eluded him. She laughed as she circled

around the table. “Catch her!” Porportuk commanded the Indian with the

rifle, who stood near to her. But as the Indian stretched forth his arm to

her, the Eldorado king felled him with a fist blow under the ear. The rifle

clattered to the ground. Then was Akoon’s chance. His eyes glittered, but

he did nothing.

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Porportuk was an old man, but his cold nights retained for him his activity.