Burning Daylight by Jack London

from the knee could begin.

On this partially packed surface followed the dogs, the man at

the gee-pole, and the sled. At the best, toiling as only picked

men could toil, they made no more than three miles an hour. This

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36

meant longer hours of travel, and Daylight, for good measure and

for a margin against accidents, hit the trail for twelve hours a

day. Since three hours were consumed by making camp at night and

cooking beans, by getting breakfast in the morning and breaking

camp, and by thawing beans at the midday halt, nine hours were

left for sleep and recuperation, and neither men nor dogs wasted

many minutes of those nine hours.

At Selkirk, the trading post near Pelly River, Daylight suggested

that Kama lay over, rejoining him on the back trip from Dyea. A

strayed Indian from Lake Le Barge was willing to take his place;

but Kama was obdurate. He grunted with a slight intonation of

resentment, and that was all. The dogs, however, Daylight

changed, leaving his own exhausted team to rest up against his

return, while he went on with six fresh dogs.

They travelled till ten o’clock the night they reached Selkirk,

and at six next morning they plunged ahead into the next stretch

of wilderness of nearly five hundred miles that lay between

Selkirk and Dyea. A second cold snap came on, but cold or warm

it was all the same, an unbroken trail. When the thermometer

went down to fifty below, it was even harder to travel, for at

that low temperature the hard frost-crystals were more like

sand-grains in the resistance they offered to the sled runners.

The dogs had to pull harder than over the same snow at twenty or

thirty below zero. Daylight increased the day’s travel to

thirteen hours. He jealously guarded the margin he had gained,

for he knew there were difficult stretches to come.

It was not yet quite midwinter, and the turbulent Fifty Mile

River vindicated his judgment. In many places it ran wide open,

with precarious rim-ice fringing it on either side. In numerous

places, where the water dashed against the steep-sided bluffs,

rim-ice was unable to form. They turned and twisted, now

crossing the river, now coming back again, sometimes making half

a dozen attempts before they found a way over a particularly bad

stretch. It was slow work. The ice-bridges had to be tested,

and either Daylight or Kama went in advance, snowshoes on their

feet, and long poles carried crosswise in their hands. Thus, if

they broke through, they could cling to the pole that bridged the

hole made by their bodies. Several such accidents were the share

of each. At fifty below zero, a man wet to the waist cannot

travel without freezing; so each ducking meant delay. As soon as

rescued, the wet man ran up and down to keep up his circulation,

while his dry companion built a fire. Thus protected, a change

of garments could be made and the wet ones dried against the next

misadventure.

To make matters worse, this dangerous river travel could not be

done in the dark, and their working day was reduced to the six

hours of twilight. Every moment was precious, and they strove

never to lose one. Thus, before the first hint of the coming of

gray day, camp was broken, sled loaded, dogs harnessed, and the

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37

two men crouched waiting over the fire. Nor did they make the

midday halt to eat. As it was, they were running far behind

their schedule, each day eating into the margin they had run up.

There were days when they made fifteen miles, and days when they

made a dozen. And there was one bad stretch where in two days

they covered nine miles, being compelled to turn their backs

three times on the river and to portage sled and outfit over the

mountains.

At last they cleared the dread Fifty Mile River and came out on

Lake Le Barge. Here was no open water nor jammed ice. For

thirty miles or more the snow lay level as a table; withal it lay

three feet deep and was soft as flour. Three miles an hour was

the best they could make, but Daylight celebrated the passing of

the Fifty Mile by traveling late. At eleven in the morning they

emerged at the foot of the lake. At three in the afternoon, as

the Arctic night closed down, he caught his first sight of the

head of the lake, and with the first stars took his bearings. At

eight in the evening they left the lake behind and entered the

mouth of the Lewes River. Here a halt of half an hour was made,

while chunks of frozen boiled beans were thawed and the dogs

were given an extra ration of fish. Then they pulled on up the

river till one in the morning, when they made their regular camp.

They had hit the trail sixteen hours on end that day, the dogs

had come in too tired to fight among themselves or even snarl,

and Kama had perceptibly limped the last several miles; yet

Daylight was on trail next morning at six o’clock. By eleven he

was at the foot of White Horse, and that night saw him camped

beyond the Box Canon, the last bad river-stretch behind him, the

string of lakes before him.

There was no let up in his pace. Twelve hours a day, six in the

twilight, and six in the dark, they toiled on the trail. Three

hours were consumed in cooking, repairing harnesses, and making

and breaking camp, and the remaining nine hours dogs and men

slept as if dead. The iron strength of Kama broke. Day by day

the terrific toil sapped him. Day by day he consumed more of his

reserves of strength. He became slower of movement, the

resiliency went out of his muscles, and his limp became

permanent. Yet he labored stoically on, never shirking, never

grunting a hint of complaint. Daylight was thin-faced and tired.

He looked tired; yet somehow, with that marvelous mechanism of a

body that was his, he drove on, ever on, remorselessly on. Never

was he more a god in Kama’s mind than in the last days of the

south-bound traverse, as the failing Indian watched him, ever to

the fore, pressing onward with urgency of endurance such as Kama

had never seen nor dreamed could thrive in human form.

The time came when Kama was unable to go in the lead and break

trail, and it was a proof that he was far gone when he permitted

Daylight to toil all day at the heavy snowshoe work. Lake by

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38

lake they crossed the string of lakes from Marsh to Linderman,

and began the ascent of Chilcoot. By all rights, Daylight should

have camped below the last pitch of the pass at the dim end of

day; but he kept on and over and down to Sheep Camp, while behind

him raged a snow-storm that would have delayed him twenty-four

hours.

This last excessive strain broke Kama completely. In the morning

he could not travel. At five, when called, he sat up after a

struggle, groaned, and sank back again. Daylight did the camp

work of both, harnessed the dogs, and, when ready for the start,

rolled the helpless Indian in all three sleeping robes and lashed

him on top of the sled. The going was good; they were on the

last lap; and he raced the dogs down through Dyea Canon and along

the hard-packed trail that led to Dyea Post. And running still,

Kama groaning on top the load, and Daylight leaping at the

gee-pole to avoid going under the runners of the flying sled,

they arrived at Dyea by the sea.

True to his promise, Daylight did not stop. An hour’s time saw

the sled loaded with the ingoing mail and grub, fresh dogs

harnessed, and a fresh Indian engaged. Kama never spoke from the

time of his arrival till the moment Daylight, ready to depart,

stood beside him to say good-by. They shook hands.

“You kill um dat damn Indian,” Kama said. “Sawee, Daylight? You

kill um.”

“He’ll sure last as far as Pelly,” Daylight grinned.

Kama shook his head doubtfully, and rolled over on his side,

turning his back in token of farewell.

Daylight won across Chilcoot that same day, dropping down five

hundred feet in the darkness and the flurrying snow to Crater

Lake, where he camped. It was a ‘cold’ camp, far above the

timber-line, and he had not burdened his sled with firewood.

That night three feet of snow covered them, and in the black

morning, when they dug themselves out, the Indian tried to

desert. He had had enough of traveling with what he considered a

madman. But Daylight persuaded him in grim ways to stay by the

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