Butitalluscomeoutthenighestside—channel，an’notbubblin’upan’up。’
　　’Butwithniverawinkatthehelm？’
　　’No;noryou。It’saginreason。I’llleaveittoanyman！’
　　Bettlesappealedtothecircleaboutthestove，butthefightwasonbetweenhimselfandLonMcFane。
　　’Reasonornoreason，it’sthetruthI’mtellin’ye。Lastfall，ayeargone，’twasSitkaCharleyandmeselfsawthesight，droppin’downtheriffleye’llrememberbelowFortReliance。An’regularfallweatheritwas—theglinto’thesunonthegoldenlarchan’thequakin’aspens;an’theglisteroflightoniveryripple;an’
　　beyand，thewinteran’thebluehazeoftheNorthcomin’downhandinhand。It’swellyeknowthesame，withafringetotheriveran’
　　theiceformin’thickintheeddies—an’asnapan’sparkletotheair，an’yea—feelin’itthroughallyerblood，a—takin’newleaseoflifewithiverysuckofit。’Tisthen，meboy，theworldgrowssmallan’thewandtherlustlaysyebytheheels。
　　’Butit’smeselfaswandthers。AsIwassayin’，wea—paddlin’，withniverasignofice，barrin’thatbytheeddies，whentheInjunliftshispaddlean’singsout，"LonMcFane！Lookyebelow！"SohaveI
　　heard，butniverthoughttosee！Asyeknow，SitkaCharley，likemeself，niverdrewfirstbreathintheland;sothesightwasnew。
　　Thenwedrifted，withaheadoveraytherside，peerin’downthroughthesparklywater。FortheworldlikethedaysIspintwiththepearlers，watchin’thecoralbanksa—growin’thesameassomanygardensunderthesea。Thereitwas，theanchor—ice，clingin’an’
　　clusterin’toiveryrock，afterthemannerofthewhitecoral。
　　’Butthebestofthesightwastocome。Justafterclearin’thetailoftheriffle，thewaterturnsquickthecolorofmilk，an’thetopofitinweecircles，aswhenthegraylin’riseinthespring，orthere’sasplatterofwetfromthesky。’Twastheanchor—icecomin’up。Totheright，tothelift，asfarasiveramancudsee，thewaterwascoveredwiththesame。An’likesomuchporridgeitwas，slickin’
　　alongthebarkofthecanoe，stickin’likegluetothepaddles。It’smany’sthetimeIshottheself—samerifflebefore，andit’smany’sthetimeafter，butniverawinkofthesamehaveIseen。’Twasthesightofalifetime。’
　　’Dotell！’drylycommentedBettles。’D’yethinkI’db’lievesuchayarn？I’druthersaytheglisteroflight’dgonetoyoureyes，andthesnapoftheairtoyourtongue。’
　　’’Twasmeowneyesthatbeheldit，an’ifSitkaCharleywashere，he’dbetheladtobackme。’
　　’Butfactsisfacts，an’theyain’tnogettin’round’em。Itain’tinthenatureofthingsforthewaterfurtherestawayfromtheairtofreezefirst。’
　　’Butmeowneyes—’
　　’Don’tgithetupoverit，’admonishedBettles，asthequickCelticangerbegantomount。
　　’Thenyernotafterbelavin’me？’
　　’Senceyou’resoblamedforehandedaboutit，no;I’db’lievenaturefirst，andfacts。’
　　’Isitthelieye’dbegivin’me？’threatenedLon。’Ye’dbetterbeaskin’thatSiwashwifeofyours。I’lllaveittoher，forthetruthI
　　spake。’
　　Bettlesflaredupinsuddenwrath。TheIrishmanhadunwittinglywoundedhim;forhiswifewasthehalf—breeddaughterofaRussianfur—trader，marriedtohimintheGreekMissionofNulato，athousandmilesorsodowntheYukon，thusbeingofmuchhighercastethanthecommonSiwash，ornative，wife。ItwasamereNorthlandnuance，whichnonebuttheNorthlandadventurermayunderstand。
　　’Ireckonyoukintakeitthatway，’washisdeliberateaffirmation。
　　ThenextinstantLonMcFanehadstretchedhimonthefloor，thecirclewasbrokenup，andhalfadozenmenhadsteppedbetween。
　　Bettlescametohisfeet，wipingthebloodfromhismouth。’Ithain’tnew，thistakin’andpayin’ofblows，anddon’tyouneverthinkbutthatthiswillbesquared。’
　　’An’niverinmelifedidItaketheliefrommortalman，’wastheretortcourteous。’An’it’sanavildayI’llnotbetohand，waitin’
　　an’willin’tohelpyeliftyerdebts，barrin’nomannerofway。’
　　’Stillgotthat38—55？’
　　Lonnodded。
　　’Butyou’dbettergitamorelikelycaliber。Mine’llripholesthroughyouthesizeofwalnuts。’
　　’Niverfear;it’smeownslugssmelltheirwaywithsoftnoses，an’they’llspreadlikeflapjacksagainstthecomingoutbeyand。An’
　　when’llIhavethepleasureofwaitin’onye？Thewaterhole’sastrikin’locality。’
　　’’Tain’tbad。Jestbethereinanhour，andyouwon’tsetlongonmycoming。’
　　BothmenmittenedandleftthePost，theirearsclosedtotheremonstrancesoftheircomrades。Itwassuchalittlething;yetwithsuchmen，littlethings，nourishedbyquicktempersandstubbornnatures，soonblossomedintobigthings。Besides，theartofburningtobedrockstilllayinthewombofthefuture，andthemenofForty—Mile，shutinbythelongArcticwinter，grewhigh—stomachedwithovereatingandenforcedidleness，andbecameasirritableasdothebeesinthefalloftheyearwhenthehivesareoverstockedwithhoney。
　　Therewasnolawintheland。Themountedpolicewasalsoathingofthefuture。Eachmanmeasuredanoffense，andmetedoutthepunishmentinasmuchasitaffectedhimself。Rarelyhadcombinedactionbeennecessary，andneverinallthedrearyhistoryofthecamphadtheeightharticleoftheDecaloguebeenviolated。
　　BigJimBeldencalledanimpromptumeeting。ScruffMackenziewasplacedastemporarychairman，andamessengerdispatchedtosolicitFatherRoubeau’sgoodoffices。Theirpositionwasparadoxical，andtheyknewit。Bytherightofmightcouldtheyinterferetopreventtheduel;yetsuchaction，whileindirectlinewiththeirwishes，wentcountertotheiropinions。Whiletheirrough—hewn，obsoleteethicsrecognizedtheindividualprerogativeofwipingoutblowwithblow，theycouldnotbeartothinkoftwogoodcomrades，suchasBettlesandMcFane，meetingindeadlybattle。Deemingthemanwhowouldnotfightonprovocationadastard，whenbroughttothetestitseemedwrongthatheshouldfight。
　　Butascurryofmoccasinsandloudcries，roundedoffwithapistol—shot，interruptedthediscussion。Thenthestorm—doorsopenedandMalemuteKidentered，asmokingColt’sinhishand，andamerrylightinhiseye。
　　’Igothim。’Hereplacedtheemptyshell，andadded，’Yourdog，Scruff。’
　　’YellowFang？’Mackenzieasked。
　　’No;thelop—earedone。’
　　’Thedevil！Nothingthematterwithhim。’
　　’Comeoutandtakealook。’
　　’That’sallrightafterall。Buesshe’sgot’em，too。YellowFangcamebackthismorningandtookachunkoutofhim，andcameneartomakingawidowerofme。MadearushforZarinska，butshewhiskedherskirtsinhisfaceandescapedwiththelossofthesameandagoodrollinthesnow。Thenhetooktothewoodsagain。Hopehedon’tcomeback。Lostanyyourself？’
　　’One—thebestoneofthepack—Shookum。Startedamuckthismorning，butdidn’tgetveryfar。RanfoulofSitkaCharley’steam，andtheyscatteredhimalloverthestreet。Andnowtwoofthemareloose，andragingmad;soyouseehegothisworkin。Thedogcensuswillbesmallinthespringifwedon’tdosomething。’
　　’Andthemancensus，too。’
　　’How’sthat？Who’sintroublenow？’
　　’Oh，BettlesandLonMcFanehadanargument，andthey’llbedownbythewaterholeinafewminutestosettleit。’
　　Theincidentwasrepeatedforhisbenefit，andMalemuteKid，accustomedtoanobediencewhichhisfellowmenneverfailedtorender，tookchargeoftheaffair。Hisquicklyformulatedplanwasexplained，andtheypromisedtofollowhisleadimplicitly。
　　’Soyousee，’heconcluded，’wedonotactuallytakeawaytheirprivilegeoffighting;andyetIdon’tbelievethey’llfightwhentheyseethebeautyofthescheme。Life’sagameandmenthegamblers。
　　They’llstaketheirwholepileontheonechanceinathousand。Takeawaythatonechance，and—theywon’tplay。’
　　HeturnedtothemaninchargeofthePost。’Storekeeper，weightoutthreefathomsofyourbesthalf—inchmanila。
　　’We’llestablishaprecedentwhichwilllastthemenofForty—Miletotheendoftime，’heprophesied。Thenhecoiledtheropeabouthisarmandledhisfollowersoutofdoors，justintimetomeettheprincipals。
　　’Whatdangedright’dhetofetchmywifein？’thunderedBettlestothesoothingoverturesofafriend。’’Twa’n’tcalledfor，’heconcludeddecisively。’’Twa’n’tcalledfor，’hereiteratedagainandagain，pacingupanddownandwaitingforLonMcFane。
　　AndLonMcFane—hisfacewashotandtonguerapidasheflauntedinsurrectioninthefaceoftheChurch。’Then，father，’hecried，’it’swithanaisyheartI’llrollinmeflamyblankets，thebroadofmebackonabedofcoals。NivershallitbesaidthatLonMcFanetookalie’twixttheteethwithoutiverliftin’ahand！An’I’llnotaskablessin’。Theyearshavebeenwild，butit’stheheartwasintherightplace。’
　　’Butit’snottheheart，Lon，’interposedFatherRoubeau;’It’spridethatbidsyouforthtoslayyourfellowman。’
　　’YerFrinch，’Lonreplied。Andthen，turningtoleavehim，’An’willyesayamassiftheluckisagainstme？’
　　Butthepriestsmiled，thrusthismoccasinedfeettothefore，andwentoutuponthewhitebreastofthesilentriver。Apackedtrail，thewidthofasixteen—inchsled，ledouttothewaterhole。Oneithersidelaythedeep，softsnow。Thementrodinsinglefile，withoutconversation;andtheblack—stoledpriestintheirmidstgavetothefunctionthesolemnaspectofafuneral。Itwasawarmwinter’sdayforForty—Mile—adayinwhichthesky，filledwithheaviness，drewclosertotheearth，andthemercurysoughttheunwontedleveloftwentybelow。Buttherewasnocheerinthewarmth。Therewaslittleairintheupperstrata，andthecloudshungmotionless，givingsullenpromiseofanearlysnowfall。Andtheearth，unresponsive，madenopreparation，contentinitshibernation。
　　Whenthewaterholewasreached，Bettles，havingevidentlyreviewedthequarrelduringthesilentwalk，burstoutinafinal’’Twa’n’tcalledfor，’whileLonMcFanekeptgrimsilence。Indignationsochokedhimthathecouldnotspeak。
　　Yetdeepdown，whenevertheirownwrongswerenotuppermost，bothmenwonderedattheircomrades。Theyhadexpectedopposition，andthistacitacquiescencehurtthem。Itseemedmorewasduethemfromthementheyhadbeensoclosewith，andtheyfeltavaguesenseofwrong，rebellingatthethoughtofsomanyoftheirbrotherscomingout，asonagalaoccasion，withoutonewordofprotest，toseethemshooteachotherdown。Itappearedtheirworthhaddiminishedintheeyesofthecommunity。Theproceedingspuzzledthem。
　　’Backtoback，David。An’willitbefiftypacestotheman，ordoublethequantity？’
　　’Fifty，’wasthesanguinaryreply，gruntedout，yetsharplycut。
　　Butthenewmanila，notprominentlydisplayed，butcasuallycoiledaboutMalemuteKid’sarm，caughtthequickeyeoftheIrishman，andthrilledhimwithasuspiciousfear。
　　’An’whatareyedoin’withtherope？’
　　’Hurryup！’MalemuteKidglancedathiswatch。’I’veabatchofbreadinthecabin，andIdon’twantittofall。Besides，myfeetaregettingcold。’
　　Therestofthemenmanifestedtheirimpatienceinvarioussuggestiveways。
　　’Buttherope，Kid’It’sbran’new，an’sureyerbread’snotthatheavyitneedsraisin’withthelikeofthat？’
　　Bettlesbythistimehadfacedaround。FatherRoubeau，thehumorofthesituationjustdawningonhim，hidasmilebehindhismittenedhand。
　　’No，Lon;thisropewasmadeforaman。’MalemuteKidcouldbeveryimpressiveonoccasion。
　　’Whatman？’Bettleswasbecomingawareofapersonalinterest。
　　’Theotherman。’
　　’An’whichistheoneye’dmanebythat？’
　　’Listen，Lon—andyou，too，Bettles！We’vebeentalkingthislittletroubleofyoursover，andwe’vecometooneconclusion。Weknowwehavenorighttostopyourfighting—’
　　’Trueforye，melad！’
　　’Andwe’renotgoingto。Butthismuchwecando，andshalldo—makethistheonlyduelinthehistoryofForty—Mile，setanexampleforeveryche—cha—quathatcomesupordowntheYukon。Themanwhoescapeskillingshallbehangedtothenearesttree。Now，goahead！’
　　Lonsmileddubiously，thenhisfacelightedup。’Paceheroff，David—fiftypaces，wheel，an’niveraceasefirin’tillalad’sdownforgood。’Tistheirhearts’llniverletthemdothedeed，an’
　　it’swellyeshouldknowitforatrueYankeebluff。’
　　Hestartedoffwithapleasedgrinonhisface，butMalemuteKidhaltedhim。
　　’Lon！It’salongwhilesinceyoufirstknewme？’
　　’Many’stheday。’
　　’Andyou，Bettles？’
　　’FiveyearnextJunehighwater。’
　　’Andhaveyouonce，inallthattime，knownmetobreakmyword’
　　Orheardofmebreakingit？’
　　Bothmenshooktheirheads，strivingtofathomwhatlaybeyond。
　　’Well，then，whatdoyouthinkofapromisemadebyme？’
　　’Asgoodasyourbond，’fromBettles。
　　’Thethingtosafelyslingyerhopesofheavenby，’promptlyendorsedLonMcFane。
　　’Listen！I，MalemuteKid，giveyoumyword—andyouknowwhatthatmeans—thatthemanwhoisnotshotstretchesropewithintenminutesaftertheshooting。’HesteppedbackasPilatemighthavedoneafterwashinghishands。
　　ApauseandasilencecameoverthemenofForty—Mile。Theskydrewstillcloser，sendingdownacrystalflightoffrost—littlegeometricdesigns，perfect，evanescentasabreath，yetdestinedtoexisttillthereturningsunhadcoveredhalfitsnorthernjourney。
　　Bothmenhadledforlornhopesintheirtime—ledwithacurseorajestontheirtongues，andintheirsoulsanunswervingfaithintheGodofChance。Butthatmercifuldeityhadbeenshutoutfromthepresentdeal。TheystudiedthefaceofMalemuteKid，buttheystudiedasonemighttheSphinx。Asthequietminutespassed，afeelingthatspeechwasincumbentonthembegantogrow。Atlastthehowlofawolf—dogcrackedthesilencefromthedirectionofForty—Mile。Theweirdsoundswelledwithallthepathosofabreakingheart，thendiedawayinalong—drawnsob。
　　’WellIbedanged！’Bettlesturnedupthecollarofhismackinawjacketandstaredabouthimhelplessly。
　　’It’sagloryusgameyerrunnin’，Kid，’criedLonMcFane。’Allthepercentageofthehousean’niverabittothemanthat’sbuckin’。TheDevilhimself’dnivertacklesuchacinch—anddamnedifIdo。’
　　Therewerechuckles，throttledingurglingthroats，andwinksbrushedawaywiththefrostwhichrimedtheeyelashes，asthemenclimbedtheice—notchedbankandstartedacrossthestreettothePost。Butthelonghowlhaddrawnnearer，investedwithanewnoteofmenace。Awomanscreamedroundthecorner。Therewasacryof，’Herehecomes！’ThenanIndianboy，attheheadofhalfadozenfrighteneddogs，racingwithdeath，dashedintothecrowd。AndbehindcameYellowFang，abristleofhairandaflashofgray。
　　EverybodybuttheYankeefled。TheIndianboyhadtrippedandfallen。Bettlesstoppedlongenoughtogriphimbytheslackofhisfurs，thenheadedforapileofcordwoodalreadyoccupiedbyanumberofhiscomrades。YellowFang，doublingafteroneofthedogs，cameleapingback。Thefleeinganimal，freeoftherabies，butcrazedwithfright，whippedBettlesoffhisfeetandflashedonupthestreet。MalemuteKidtookaflyingshotatYellowFang。Themaddogwhirledahalfairspring，camedownonhisback，then，withasingleleap，coveredhalfthedistancebetweenhimselfandBettles。
　　Butthefatalspringwasintercepted。LonMcFaneleapedfromthewoodpile，counteringhiminmidair。Overtheyrolled，Lonholdinghimbythethroatatarm’slength，blinkingunderthefetidslaverwhichsprayedhisface。ThenBettles，revolverinhandandcoollywaitingachance，settledthecombat。
　　’’Twasasquaregame，Kid，’Lonremarked，risingtohisfeetandshakingthesnowfromouthissleeves;’withafairpercentagetomeselfthatbuckedit。’
　　Thatnight，whileLonMcFanesoughttheforgivingarmsoftheChurchinthedirectionofFatherRoubeau’scabin，MalemuteKidtalkedlongtolittlepurpose。
　　’Butwouldyou，’persistedMackenzie，’supposingtheyhadfought？’
　　’HaveIeverbrokenmyword？’
　　’No;butthatisn’tthepoint。Answerthequestion。Wouldyou？’
　　MalemuteKidstraightenedup。’Scruff，I’vebeenaskingmyselfthatquestioneversince，and—’
　　’Well？’
　　’Well，asyet，Ihaven’tfoundtheanswer。’
　　INAFARCOUNTRY。
　　WHENAMANJOURNEYSintoafarcountry，hemustbepreparedtoforgetmanyofthethingshehaslearned，andtoacquiresuchcustomsasareinherentwithexistenceinthenewland;hemustabandontheoldidealsandtheoldgods，andoftentimeshemustreversetheverycodesbywhichhisconducthashithertobeenshaped。Tothosewhohavetheproteanfacultyofadaptability，thenoveltyofsuchchangemayevenbeasourceofpleasure;buttothosewhohappentobehardenedtotherutsinwhichtheywerecreated，thepressureofthealteredenvironmentisunbearable，andtheychafeinbodyandinspiritunderthenewrestrictionswhichtheydonotunderstand。Thischafingisboundtoactandreact，producingdiversevilsandleadingtovariousmisfortunes。Itwerebetterforthemanwhocannotfithimselftothenewgroovetoreturntohisowncountry;ifhedelaytoolong，hewillsurelydie。
　　Themanwhoturnshisbackuponthecomfortsofaneldercivilization，tofacethesavageyouth，theprimordialsimplicityoftheNorth，mayestimatesuccessataninverseratiotothequantityandqualityofhishopelesslyfixedhabits。Hewillsoondiscover，ifhebeafitcandidate，thatthematerialhabitsarethelessimportant。Theexchangeofsuchthingsasadaintymenuforroughfare，ofthestiffleathershoeforthesoft，shapelessmoccasin，ofthefeatherbedforacouchinthesnow，isafterallaveryeasymatter。Buthispinchwillcomeinlearningproperlytoshapehismind’sattitudetowardallthings，andespeciallytowardhisfellowman。Forthecourtesiesofordinarylife，hemustsubstituteunselfishness，forbearance，andtolerance。Thus，andthusonly，canhegainthatpearlofgreatprice—truecomradeship。Hemustnotsay’thankyou’;hemustmeanitwithoutopeninghismouth，andproveitbyrespondinginkind。Inshort，hemustsubstitutethedeedfortheword，thespiritfortheletter。
　　WhentheworldrangwiththetaleofArcticgold，andthelureoftheNorthgrippedtheheartstringsofmen，CarterWeatherbeethrewuphissnugclerkship，turnedthehalfofhissavingsovertohiswife，andwiththeremainderboughtanoutfit。Therewasnoromanceinhisnature—thebondageofcommercehadcrushedallthat;hewassimplytiredoftheceaselessgrind，andwishedtoriskgreathazardsinviewofcorrespondingreturns。Likemanyanotherfool，disdainingtheoldtrailsusedbytheNorthlandpioneersforascoreofyears，hehurriedtoEdmontoninthespringoftheyear;andthere，unluckilyforhissoul’swelfare，healliedhimselfwithapartyofmen。
　　Therewasnothingunusualaboutthisparty，exceptitsplans。Evenitsgoal，likethatofalltheotherparties，wastheKlondike。Buttherouteithadmappedouttoattainthatgoaltookawaythebreathofthehardiestnative，bornandbredtothevicissitudesoftheNorthwest。EvenJacquesBaptiste，bornofaChippewawomanandarenegadevoyageur（havingraisedhisfirstwhimpersinadeerskinlodgenorthofthesixty—fifthparallel，andhadthesamehushedbyblissfulsucksofrawtallow），wassurprised。Thoughhesoldhisservicestothemandagreedtotraveleventothenever—openingice，heshookhisheadominouslywheneverhisadvicewasasked。
　　PercyCuthfert’sevilstarmusthavebeenintheascendant，forhe，too，joinedthiscompanyofargonauts。Hewasanordinaryman，withabankaccountasdeepashisculture，whichissayingagooddeal。Hehadnoreasontoembarkonsuchaventure—noreasonintheworldsavethathesufferedfromanabnormaldevelopmentofsentimentality。Hemistookthisforthetruespiritofromanceandadventure。Manyanothermanhasdonethelike，andmadeasfatalamistake。
　　Thefirstbreak—upofspringfoundthepartyfollowingtheice—runofElkRiver。Itwasanimposingfleet，fortheoutfitwaslarge，andtheywereaccompaniedbyadisreputablecontingentofhalf—breedvoyageurswiththeirwomenandchildren。Dayinanddayout，theylaboredwiththebateauxandcanoes，foughtmosquitoesandotherkindredpests，orsweatedandsworeattheportages。Severetoillikethislaysamannakedtotheveryrootsofhissoul，andereLakeAthabascawaslostinthesouth，eachmemberofthepartyhadhoistedhistruecolors。
　　ThetwoshirksandchronicgrumblerswereCarterWeatherbeeandPercyCuthfert。Thewholepartycomplainedlessofitsachesandpainsthandideitherofthem。Notoncedidtheyvolunteerforthethousandandonepettydutiesofthecamp。Abucketofwatertobebrought，anextraarmfulofwoodtobechopped，thedishestobewashedandwiped，asearchtobemadethroughtheoutfitforsomesuddenlyindispensablearticle—andthesetwoeffetescionsofcivilizationdiscoveredsprainsorblistersrequiringinstantattention。Theywerethefirsttoturninatnight，withscoreoftasksyetundone;thelasttoturnoutinthemorning，whenthestartshouldbeinreadinessbeforethebreakfastwasbegun。Theywerethefirsttofalltoatmealtime，thelasttohaveahandinthecooking;thefirsttodiveforaslimdelicacy，thelasttodiscovertheyhadaddedtotheirownanotherman’sshare。Iftheytoiledattheoars，theyslylycutthewaterateachstrokeandallowedtheboat’smomentumtofloatuptheblade。Theythoughtnobodynoticed;buttheircomradessworeundertheirbreathsandgrewtohatethem，whileJacquesBaptistesneeredopenlyanddamnedthemfrommorningtillnight。ButJacquesBaptistewasnogentleman。
　　AttheGreatSlave，HudsonBaydogswerepurchased，andthefleetsanktotheguardswithitsaddedburdenofdriedfishandpemican。
　　ThencanoeandbateauansweredtotheswiftcurrentoftheMackenzie，andtheyplungedintotheGreatBarrenGround。Everylikely—looking’feeder’wasprospected，buttheelusive’pay—dirt’
　　dancedevertothenorth。AttheGreatBear，overcomebythecommondreadoftheUnknownLands，theirvoyageursbegantodesert，andFortofGoodHopesawthelastandbravestbendingtothetowlinesastheybuckedthecurrentdownwhichtheyhadsotreacherouslyglided。JacquesBaptistealoneremained。Hadhenotsworntotraveleventothenever—openingice？
　　Thelyingcharts，compiledinmainfromhearsay，werenowconstantlyconsulted。Andtheyfelttheneedofhurry，forthesunhadalreadypasseditsnorthernsolsticeandwasleadingthewintersouthagain。
　　Skirtingtheshoresofthebay，wheretheMackenziedisemboguesintotheArcticOcean，theyenteredthemouthoftheLittlePeelRiver。
　　Thenbeganthearduousup—streamtoil，andthetwoIncapablesfaredworsethanever。Towlineandpole，paddleandtumpline，rapidsandportages—suchtorturesservedtogivetheoneadeepdisgustforgreathazards，andprintedfortheotherafierytextonthetrueromanceofadventure。Onedaytheywaxedmutinous，andbeingvilelycursedbyJacquesBaptiste，turned，aswormssometimeswill。Butthehalf—breedthrashedthetwain，andsentthem，bruisedandbleeding，abouttheirwork。Itwasthefirsttimeeitherhadbeenmanhandled。
　　AbandoningtheirrivercraftattheheadwatersoftheLittlePeel，theyconsumedtherestofthesummerinthegreatportageovertheMackenziewatershedtotheWestRat。ThislittlestreamfedthePorcupine，whichinturnjoinedtheYukonwherethatmightyhighwayoftheNorthcountermarchesontheArcticCircle。Buttheyhadlostintheracewithwinter，andonedaytheytiedtheirraftstothethickeddy—iceandhurriedtheirgoodsashore。Thatnighttheriverjammedandbrokeseveraltimes;thefollowingmorningithadfallenasleepforgood。
　　’Wecan’tbemore’nfourhundredmilesfromtheYukon，’concludedSloper，multiplyinghisthumbnailsbythescaleofthemap。Thecouncil，inwhichthetwoIncapableshadwhinedtoexcellentdisadvantage，wasdrawingtoaclose。
　　’HudsonBayPost，longtimeago。Nouseumnow。’JacquesBaptiste’sfatherhadmadethetripfortheFurCompanyintheolddays，incidentallymarkingthetrailwithacoupleoffrozentoes。
　　Sufferin’cracky！’criedanotheroftheparty。’Nowhites？’
　　’Narywhite，’Slopersententiouslyaffirmed;’butit’sonlyfivehundredmoreuptheYukontoDawson。Callitaroughthousandfromhere。’
　　WeatherbeeandCuthfertgroanedinchorus。
　　’Howlong’llthattake，Baptiste？’
　　Thehalf—breedfiguredforamoment。’Workumlikehell，nomanplayout，ten—twenty—forty—fiftydays。Umbabiescome’（designatingtheIncapables），’nocantell。Mebbewhenhellfreezeover;mebbenotthen。’
　　Themanufactureofsnowshoesandmoccasinsceased。Somebodycalledthenameofanabsentmember，whocameoutofanancientcabinattheedgeofthecampfireandjoinedthem。ThecabinwasoneofthemanymysterieswhichlurkinthevastrecessesoftheNorth。Builtwhenandbywhom，nomancouldtell。Twogravesintheopen，piledhighwithstones，perhapscontainedthesecretofthoseearlywanderers。Butwhosehandhadpiledthestones？
　　Themomenthadcome。JacquesBaptistepausedinthefittingofaharnessandpinnedthestrugglingdoginthesnow。Thecookmademuteprotestfordelay，threwahandfulofbaconintoanoisypotofbeans，thencametoattention。Sloperrosetohisfeet。HisbodywasaludicrouscontrasttothehealthyphysiquesoftheIncapables。
　　Yellowandweak，fleeingfromaSouthAmericanfever—hole，hehadnotbrokenhisflightacrossthezones，andwasstillabletotoilwithmen。Hisweightwasprobablyninetypounds，withtheheavyhuntingknifethrownin，andhisgrizzledhairtoldofaprimewhichhadceasedtobe。ThefreshyoungmusclesofeitherWeatherbeeorCuthfertwereequaltotentimestheendeavorofhis;yethecouldwalkthemintotheearthinaday’sjourney。Andallthisdayhehadwhippedhisstrongercomradesintoventuringathousandmilesofthestiffesthardshipmancanconceive。Hewastheincarnationoftheunrestofhisrace，andtheoldTeutonicstubbornness，dashedwiththequickgraspandactionoftheYankee，heldthefleshinthebondageofthespirit。
　　’Allthoseinfavorofgoingonwiththedogsassoonastheicesets，sayay。’
　　’Ay！’rangouteightvoices—voicesdestinedtostringatrailofoathsalongmanyahundredmilesofpain。
　　’Contraryminded？’
　　’No！’ForthefirsttimetheIncapableswereunitedwithoutsomecompromiseofpersonalinterests。
　　’Andwhatareyougoingtodoaboutit？’Weatherbeeaddedbelligerently。
　　’Majorityrule！Majorityrule！’clamoredtherestoftheparty。
　　’Iknowtheexpeditionisliabletofallthroughifyoudon’tcome，’
　　Sloperrepliedsweetly;’butIguess，ifwetryrealhard，wecanmanagetodowithoutyou。Whatdoyousay，boys？’
　　Thesentimentwascheeredtotheecho。
　　’ButIsay，youknow，’Cuthfertventuredapprehensively;’what’sachaplikemetodo？’
　　’Ain’tyoucomingwithus。’
　　’No—o。’
　　’Thendoasyoudamnwellplease。Wewon’thavenothingtosay。’
　　’Kindo’calkilateyuhmightsettleitwiththatcanoodlin’
　　pardnerofyourn，’suggestedaheavy—goingWesternerfromtheDakotas，atthesametimepointingoutWeatherbee。’He’llbeshoretoaskyuhwhatyura—goin’todowhenitcomestocookin’an’gatherin’thewood。’
　　’Thenwe’llconsideritallarranged，’concludedSloper。’We’llpullouttomorrow，ifwecampwithinfivemiles—justtogeteverythinginrunningorderandrememberifwe’veforgottenanything。’
　　Thesledsgroanedbyontheirsteel—shodrunners，andthedogsstrainedlowintheharnessesinwhichtheywereborntodie。
　　JacquesBaptistepausedbythesideofSlopertogetalastglimpseofthecabin。ThesmokecurleduppatheticallyfromtheYukonstovepipe。ThetwoIncapableswerewatchingthemfromthedoorway。
　　Sloperlaidhishandontheother’sshoulder。
　　’JacquesBaptiste，didyoueverhearoftheKilkennycats？’
　　Thehalf—breedshookhishead。
　　’Well，myfriendandgoodcomrade，theKilkennycatsfoughttillneitherhide，norhair，noryowl，wasleft。Youunderstand？—tillnothingwasleft。Verygood。Now，thesetwomendon’tlikework。
　　They’llbeallaloneinthatcabinallwinter—amightylong，darkwinter。Kilkennycats—well？’
　　TheFrenchmaninBaptisteshruggedhisshoulders，buttheIndianinhimwassilent。Nevertheless，itwasaneloquentshrug，pregnantwithprophecy。
　　Thingsprosperedinthelittlecabinatfirst。TheroughbadinageoftheircomradeshadmadeWeatherbeeandCuthfertconsciousofthemutualresponsibilitywhichhaddevolveduponthem;besides，therewasnotsomuchworkafterallfortwohealthymen。Andtheremovalofthecruelwhiphand，orinotherwordsthebulldozinghalf—breed，hadbroughtwithitajoyousreaction。Atfirst，eachstrovetooutdotheother，andtheyperformedpettytaskswithanunctionwhichwouldhaveopenedtheeyesoftheircomradeswhowerenowwearingoutbodiesandsoulsontheLongTrail。
　　Allcarewasbanished。Theforest，whichshoulderedinuponthemfromthreesides，wasaninexhaustiblewoodyard。AfewyardsfromtheirdoorsleptthePorcupine，andaholethroughitswinterrobeformedabubblingspringofwater，crystalclearandpainfullycold。
　　Buttheysoongrewtofindfaultwitheventhat。Theholewouldpersistinfreezingup，andthusgavethemmanyamiserablehourofice—chopping。Theunknownbuildersofthecabinhadextendedthesidelogssoastosupportacacheattherear。Inthiswasstoredthebulkoftheparty’sprovisions。Foodtherewas，withoutstint，forthreetimesthemenwhowerefatedtoliveuponit。Butthemostofitwasthekindwhichbuiltupbrawnandsinew，butdidnotticklethepalate。True，therewassugarinplentyfortwoordinarymen;butthesetwowerelittleelsethanchildren。Theyearlydiscoveredthevirtuesofhotwaterjudiciouslysaturatedwithsugar，andtheyprodigallyswamtheirflapjacksandsoakedtheircrustsintherich，whitesyrup。Thencoffeeandtea，andespeciallythedriedfruits，madedisastrousinroadsuponit。Thefirstwordstheyhadwereoverthesugarquestion。Anditisareallyseriousthingwhentwomen，whollydependentuponeachotherforcompany，begintoquarrel。
　　Weatherbeelovedtodiscourseblatantlyonpolitics，whileCuthfert，whohadbeenpronetocliphiscouponsandletthecommonwealthjogonasbestitmight，eitherignoredthesubjectordeliveredhimselfofstartlingepigrams。Buttheclerkwastooobtusetoappreciatetheclevershapingofthought，andthiswasteofammunitionirritatedCuthfert。Hehadbeenusedtoblindingpeoplebyhisbrilliancy，anditworkedhimquiteahardship，thislossofanaudience。Hefeltpersonallyaggrievedandunconsciouslyheldhismuttonheadcompanionresponsibleforit。
　　Saveexistence，theyhadnothingincommon—cameintouchonnosinglepoint。Weatherbeewasaclerkwhohadknownnaughtbutclerkingallhislife;Cuthfertwasamasterofarts，adabblerinoils，andhadwrittennotalittle。Theonewasalower—classmanwhoconsideredhimselfagentleman，andtheotherwasagentlemanwhoknewhimselftobesuch。Fromthisitmayberemarkedthatamancanbeagentlemanwithoutpossessingthefirstinstinctoftruecomradeship。Theclerkwasassensuousastheotherwasaesthetic，andhisloveadventures，toldatgreatlengthandchieflycoinedfromhisimagination，affectedthesupersensitivemasterofartsinthesamewayassomanywhiffsofsewergas。Hedeemedtheclerkafilthy，unculturedbrute，whoseplacewasinthemuckwiththeswine，andtoldhimso;andhewasreciprocallyinformedthathewasamilk—and—watersissyandacad。
　　Weatherbeecouldnothavedefined’cad’forhislife;butitsatisfieditspurpose，whichafterallseemsthemainpointinlife。
　　Weatherbeeflattedeverythirdnoteandsangsuchsongsas’TheBostonBurglar’and’theHandsomeCabinBoy，’forhoursatatime，whileCuthfertweptwithrage，tillhecouldstanditnolongerandfledintotheoutercold。Buttherewasnoescape。Theintensefrostcouldnotbeenduredforlongatatime，andthelittlecabincrowdedthem—beds，stove，table，andall—intoaspaceoftenbytwelve。Theverypresenceofeitherbecameapersonalaffronttotheother，andtheylapsedintosullensilenceswhichincreasedinlengthandstrengthasthedayswentby。Occasionally，theflashofaneyeorthecurlofalipgotthebetterofthem，thoughtheystrovetowhollyignoreeachotherduringthesemuteperiods。Andagreatwondersprangupinthebreastofeach，astohowGodhadevercometocreatetheother。
　　Withlittletodo，timebecameanintolerableburdentothem。Thisnaturallymadethemstilllazier。Theysankintoaphysicallethargywhichtherewasnoescaping，andwhichmadethemrebelattheperformanceofthesmallestchore。Onemorningwhenitwashisturntocookthecommonbreakfast，Weatherbeerolledoutofhisblankets，andtothesnoringofhiscompanion，lightedfirsttheslush—lampandthenthefire。Thekettleswerefrozenhard，andtherewasnowaterinthecabinwithwhichtowash。Buthedidnotmindthat。
　　Waitingforittothaw，heslicedthebaconandplungedintothehatefultaskofbread—making。Cuthferthadbeenslylywatchingthroughhishalf—closedlids。Consequentlytherewasascene，inwhichtheyferventlyblessedeachother，andagreed，henceforth，thateachdohisowncooking。Aweeklater，Cuthfertneglectedhismorningablutions，butnonethelesscomplacentlyatethemealwhichhehadcooked。
　　Weatherbeegrinned。Afterthatthefoolishcustomofwashingpassedoutoftheirlives。
　　Asthesugar—pileandotherlittleluxuriesdwindled，theybegantobeafraidtheywerenotgettingtheirpropershares，andinorderthattheymightnotberobbed，theyfelltogorgingthemselves。Theluxuriessufferedinthisgluttonouscontest，asdidalsothemen。
　　Intheabsenceoffreshvegetablesandexercise，theirbloodbecameimpoverished，andaloathsome，purplishrashcreptovertheirbodies。Yettheyrefusedtoheedthewarning。Next，theirmusclesandjointsbegantoswell，thefleshturningblack，whiletheirmouths，gums，andlipstookonthecolorofrichcream。Insteadofbeingdrawntogetherbytheirmisery，eachgloatedovertheother’ssymptomsasthescurvytookitscourse。
　　Theylostallregardforpersonalappearance，andforthatmatter，commondecency。Thecabinbecameapigpen，andneveroncewerethebedsmadeorfreshpineboughslaidunderneath。Yettheycouldnotkeeptotheirblankets，astheywouldhavewished;forthefrostwasinexorable，andthefireboxconsumedmuchfuel。Thehairoftheirheadsandfacesgrewlongandshaggy，whiletheirgarmentswouldhavedisgustedaragpicker。Buttheydidnotcare。Theyweresick，andtherewasnoonetosee;besides，itwasverypainfultomoveabout。
　　Toallthiswasaddedanewtrouble—theFearoftheNorth。ThisFearwasthejointchildoftheGreatColdandtheGreatSilence，andwasborninthedarknessofDecember，whenthesundippedbelowthehorizonforgood。Itaffectedthemaccordingtotheirnatures。
　　Weatherbeefellpreytothegrossersuperstitions，anddidhisbesttoresurrectthespiritswhichsleptintheforgottengraves。Itwasafascinatingthing，andinhisdreamstheycametohimfromoutofthecold，andsnuggledintohisblankets，andtoldhimoftheirtoilsandtroubleseretheydied。Heshrankawayfromtheclammycontactastheydrewcloserandtwinedtheirfrozenlimbsabouthim，andwhentheywhisperedinhisearofthingstocome，thecabinrangwithhisfrightenedshrieks。Cuthfertdidnotunderstand—fortheynolongerspoke—andwhenthusawakenedheinvariablygrabbedforhisrevolver。Thenhewouldsitupinbed，shiveringnervously，withtheweapontrainedontheunconsciousdreamer。Cuthfertdeemedthemangoingmad，andsocametofearforhislife。
　　Hisownmaladyassumedalessconcreteform。Themysteriousartisanwhohadlaidthecabin，logbylog，hadpeggedawind—vanetotheridgepole。Cuthfertnoticeditalwayspointedsouth，andoneday，irritatedbyitssteadfastnessofpurpose，heturnedittowardtheeast。Hewatchedeagerly，butneverabreathcamebytodisturbit。Thenheturnedthevanetothenorth，swearingneveragaintotouchittillthewinddidblow。Buttheairfrightenedhimwithitsunearthlycalm，andheoftenroseinthemiddleofthenighttoseeifthevanehadveered—tendegreeswouldhavesatisfiedhim。Butno，itpoisedabovehimasunchangeableasfate。Hisimaginationranriot，tillitbecametohimafetish。Sometimeshefollowedthepathitpointedacrossthedismaldominions，andallowedhissoultobecomesaturatedwiththeFear。Hedweltupontheunseenandtheunknowntilltheburdenofeternityappearedtobecrushinghim。EverythingintheNorthlandhadthatcrushingeffect—theabsenceoflifeandmotion;thedarkness;theinfinitepeaceofthebroodingland;theghastlysilence，whichmadetheechoofeachheartbeatasacrilege;
　　thesolemnforestwhichseemedtoguardanawful，inexpressiblesomething，whichneitherwordnorthoughtcouldcompass。
　　Theworldhehadsorecentlyleft，withitsbusynationsandgreatenterprises，seemedveryfaraway。Recollectionsoccasionallyobtruded—recollectionsofmartsandgalleriesandcrowdedthoroughfares，ofeveningdressandsocialfunctions，ofgoodmenanddearwomenhehadknown—buttheyweredimmemoriesofalifehehadlivedlongcenturiesagone，onsomeotherplanet。ThisphantasmwastheReality。Standingbeneaththewind—vane，hiseyesfixedonthepolarskies，hecouldnotbringhimselftorealizethattheSouthlandreallyexisted，thatatthatverymomentitwasa—roarwithlifeandaction。TherewasnoSouthland，nomenbeingbornofwomen，nogivingandtakinginmarriage。Beyondhisbleakskylinetherestretchedvastsolitudes，andbeyondthesestillvastersolitudes。Therewerenolandsofsunshine，heavywiththeperfumeofflowers。Suchthingswereonlyolddreamsofparadise。ThesunlandsoftheWestandthespicelandsoftheEast，thesmilingArcadiasandblissfulIslandsoftheBlest—ha！ha！Hislaughtersplitthevoidandshockedhimwithitsunwontedsound。Therewasnosun。ThiswastheUniverse，deadandcoldanddark，andheitsonlycitizen。Weatherbee？
　　AtsuchmomentsWeatherbeedidnotcount。HewasaCaliban，amonstrousphantom，fetteredtohimforuntoldages，thepenaltyofsomeforgottencrime。
　　HelivedwithDeathamongthedead，emasculatedbythesenseofhisowninsignificance，crushedbythepassivemasteryoftheslumberingages。Themagnitudeofallthingsappalledhim。
　　Everythingpartookofthesuperlativesavehimself—theperfectcessationofwindandmotion，theimmensityofthesnow—coveredwildness，theheightoftheskyandthedepthofthesilence。Thatwind—vane—ifitwouldonlymove。Ifathunderboltwouldfall，ortheforestflareupinflame。Therollingupoftheheavensasascroll，thecrashofDoom—anything，anything！Butno，nothingmoved;theSilencecrowdedin，andtheFearoftheNorthlaidicyfingersonhisheart。
　　Once，likeanotherCrusoe，bytheedgeoftheriverhecameuponatrack—thefainttraceryofasnowshoerabbitonthedelicatesnow—crust。Itwasarevelation。TherewaslifeintheNorthland。Hewouldfollowit，lookuponit，gloatoverit。Heforgothisswollenmuscles，plungingthroughthedeepsnowinanecstasyofanticipation。
　　Theforestswallowedhimup，andthebriefmiddaytwilightvanished;
　　buthepursuedhisquesttillexhaustednatureasserteditselfandlaidhimhelplessinthesnow。Therehegroanedandcursedhisfolly，andknewthetracktobethefancyofhisbrain;andlatethatnighthedraggedhimselfintothecabinonhandsandknees，hischeeksfrozenandastrangenumbnessabouthisfeet。Weatherbeegrinnedmalevolently，butmadenooffertohelphim。Hethrustneedlesintohistoesandthawedthemoutbythestove。Aweeklatermortificationsetin。
　　Buttheclerkhadhisowntroubles。Thedeadmencameoutoftheirgravesmorefrequentlynow，andrarelylefthim，wakingorsleeping。
　　Hegrewtowaitanddreadtheircoming，neverpassingthetwincairnswithoutashudder。Onenighttheycametohiminhissleepandledhimforthtoanappointedtask。Frightenedintoinarticulatehorror，heawokebetweentheheapsofstonesandfledwildlytothecabin。Buthehadlainthereforsometime，forhisfeetandcheekswerealsofrozen。
　　Sometimeshebecamefranticattheirinsistentpresence，anddancedaboutthecabin，cuttingtheemptyairwithanaxe，andsmashingeverythingwithinreach。Duringtheseghostlyencounters，Cuthferthuddledintohisblanketsandfollowedthemadmanaboutwithacockedrevolver，readytoshoothimifhecametoonear。But，recoveringfromoneofthesespells，theclerknoticedtheweapontraineduponhim。Hissuspicionswerearoused，andthenceforthhe，too，livedinfearofhislife。Theywatchedeachothercloselyafterthat，andfacedaboutinstartledfrightwhenevereitherpassedbehindtheother’sback。Theapprehensivenessbecameamaniawhichcontrolledthemevenintheirsleep。Throughmutualfeartheytacitlylettheslush—lampburnallnight，andsawtoaplentifulsupplyofbacon—greasebeforeretiring。Theslightestmovementonthepartofonewassufficienttoarousetheother，andmanyastillwatchtheirgazescounteredastheyshookbeneaththeirblanketswithfingersonthetrigger—guards。
　　WhatwiththeFearoftheNorth，thementalstrain，andtheravagesofthedisease，theylostallsemblanceofhumanity，takingontheappearanceofwildbeasts，huntedanddesperate。Theircheeksandnoses，asanaftermathofthefreezing，hadturnedblack。Theirfrozentoeshadbeguntodropawayatthefirstandsecondjoints。
　　Everymovementbroughtpain，butthefireboxwasinsatiable，wringingaransomoftorturefromtheirmiserablebodies。Dayin，dayout，itdemandeditsfood—averitablepoundofflesh—andtheydraggedthemselvesintotheforesttochopwoodontheirknees。Once，crawlingthusinsearchofdrysticks，unknowntoeachothertheyenteredathicketfromoppositesides。Suddenly，withoutwarning，twopeeringdeath’s—headsconfrontedeachother。Sufferinghadsotransformedthemthatrecognitionwasimpossible。Theysprangtotheirfeet，shriekingwithterror，anddashedawayontheirmangledstumps;andfallingatthecabin’sdoor，theyclawedandscratchedlikedemonstilltheydiscoveredtheirmistake。
　　Occasionallytheylapsednormal，andduringoneofthesesaneintervals，thechiefboneofcontention，thesugar，hadbeendividedequallybetweenthem。Theyguardedtheirseparatesacks，storedupinthecache，withjealouseyes;fortherewerebutafewcupfulsleft，andtheyweretotallydevoidoffaithineachother。ButonedayCuthfertmadeamistake。Hardlyabletomove，sickwithpain，withhisheadswimmingandeyesblinded，hecreptintothecache，sugarcanisterinhand，andmistookWeatherbee’ssackforhisown。
　　Januaryhadbeenbornbutafewdayswhenthisoccurred。Thesunhadsometimesincepasseditslowestsoutherndeclination，andatmeridiannowthrewflauntingstreaksofyellowlightuponthenorthernsky。Onthedayfollowinghismistakewiththesugarbag，Cuthfertfoundhimselffeelingbetter，bothinbodyandinspirit。Asnoontimedrewnearandthedaybrightened，hedraggedhimselfoutsidetofeastontheevanescentglow，whichwastohimanearnestofthesun’sfutureintentions。Weatherbeewasalsofeelingsomewhatbetter，andcrawledoutbesidehim。Theyproppedthemselvesinthesnowbeneaththemovelesswind—vane，andwaited。
　　Thestillnessofdeathwasaboutthem。Inotherclimes，whennaturefallsintosuchmoods，thereisasubduedairofexpectancy，awaitingforsomesmallvoicetotakeupthebrokenstrain。NotsointheNorth。Thetwomenhadlivedseemingeonsinthisghostlypeace。
　　Theycouldremembernosongofthepast;theycouldconjurenosongofthefuture。Thisunearthlycalmhadalwaysbeen—thetranquilsilenceofeternity。
　　Theireyeswerefixeduponthenorth。Unseen，behindtheirbacks，behindthetoweringmountainstothesouth，thesunswepttowardthezenithofanotherskythantheirs。Solespectatorsofthemightycanvas，theywatchedthefalsedawnslowlygrow。Afaintflamebegantoglowandsmoulder。Itdeepenedinintensity，ringingthechangesofreddish—yellow，purple，andsaffron。SobrightdiditbecomethatCuthfertthoughtthesunmustsurelybebehindit—amiracle，thesunrisinginthenorth！Suddenly，withoutwarningandwithoutfading，thecanvaswassweptclean。Therewasnocolorinthesky。Thelighthadgoneoutoftheday。Theycaughttheirbreathsinhalf—sobs。Butlo！theairwasaglintwithparticlesofscintillatingfrost，andthere，tothenorth，thewind—vanelayinvagueoutlineofthesnow。A
　　shadow！Ashadow！Itwasexactlymidday。Theyjerkedtheirheadshurriedlytothesouth。Agoldenrimpeepedoverthemountain’ssnowyshoulder，smileduponthemaninstant，thendippedfromsightagain。
　　Thereweretearsintheireyesastheysoughteachother。A
　　strangesofteningcameoverthem。Theyfeltirresistiblydrawntowardeachother。Thesunwascomingbackagain。Itwouldbewiththemtomorrow，andthenextday，andthenext。Anditwouldstaylongereveryvisit，andatimewouldcomewhenitwouldridetheirheavendayandnight，neveroncedroppingbelowtheskyline。Therewouldbenonight。Theice—lockedwinterwouldbebroken;thewindswouldblowandtheforestsanswer;thelandwouldbatheintheblessedsunshine，andliferenew。Handinhand，theywouldquitthishorriddreamandjourneybacktotheSouthland。Theylurchedblindlyforward，andtheirhandsmet—theirpoormaimedhands，swollenanddistortedbeneaththeirmittens。
　　Butthepromisewasdestinedtoremainunfulfilled。TheNorthlandistheNorthland，andmenworkouttheirsoulsbystrangerules，whichothermen，whohavenotjourneyedintofarcountries，cannotcometounderstand。
　　Anhourlater，Cuthfertputapanofbreadintotheoven，andfelltospeculatingonwhatthesurgeonscoulddowithhisfeetwhenhegotback。Homedidnotseemsoveryfarawaynow。Weatherbeewasrummaginginthecache。Ofasudden，heraisedawhirlwindofblasphemy，whichinturnceasedwithstartlingabruptness。Theothermanhadrobbedhissugar—sack。Still，thingsmighthavehappeneddifferently，hadnotthetwodeadmencomeoutfromunderthestonesandhushedthehotwordsinhisthroat。Theyledhimquitegentlyfromthecache，whichheforgottoclose。Thatconsummationwasreached;thatsomethingtheyhadwhisperedtohiminhisdreamswasabouttohappen。Theyguidedhimgently，verygently，tothewoodpile，wheretheyputtheaxeinhishands。Thentheyhelpedhimshoveopenthecabindoor，andhefeltsuretheyshutitafterhim—atleasthehearditslamandthelatchfallsharplyintoplace。Andheknewtheywerewaitingjustwithout，waitingforhimtodohistask。
　　’Carter！Isay，Carter！’
　　PercyCuthfertwasfrightenedatthelookontheclerk’sface，andhemadehastetoputthetablebetweenthem。
　　CarterWeatherbeefollowed，withouthasteandwithoutenthusiasm。
　　Therewasneitherpitynorpassioninhisface，butratherthepatient，stolidlookofonewhohascertainworktodoandgoesaboutitmethodically。
　　’Isay，what’sthematter？’
　　Theclerkdodgedback，cuttingoffhisretreattothedoor，butneveropeninghismouth。
　　’Isay，Carter，Isay;let’stalk。There’sagoodchap。’
　　Themasterofartswasthinkingrapidly，now，shapingaskillfulflankmovementonthebedwherehisSmith&Wessonlay。Keepinghiseyesonthemadman，herolledbackwardonthebunk，atthesametimeclutchingthepistol。
　　’Carter！’
　　ThepowderflashedfullinWeatherbee’sface，butheswunghisweaponandleapedforward。Theaxebitdeeplyatthebaseofthespine，andPercyCuthfertfeltallconsciousnessofhislowerlimbsleavehim。Thentheclerkfellheavilyuponhim，clutchinghimbythethroatwithfeeblefingers。ThesharpbiteoftheaxehadcausedCuthferttodropthepistol，andashislungspantedforrelease，hefumbledaimlesslyforitamongtheblankets。Thenheremembered。Heslidahanduptheclerk’sbelttothesheath—knife;andtheydrewveryclosetoeachotherinthatlastclinch。
　　PercyCuthfertfelthisstrengthleavehim。Thelowerportionofhisbodywasuseless，TheinertweightofWeatherbeecrushedhim—
　　crushedhimandpinnedhimtherelikeabearunderatrap。Thecabinbecamefilledwithafamiliarodor，andheknewthebreadtobeburning。Yetwhatdiditmatter？Hewouldneverneedit。Andtherewereallofsixcupfulsofsugarinthecache—ifhehadforeseenthishewouldnothavebeensosavingthelastseveraldays。Wouldthewind—vaneevermove？Whynot’Hadhenotseenthesuntoday？Hewouldgoandsee。No;itwasimpossibletomove。Hehadnotthoughttheclerksoheavyaman。
　　Howquicklythecabincooled！Thefiremustbeout。Thecoldwasforcingin。Itmustbebelowzeroalready，andtheicecreepinguptheinsideofthedoor。Hecouldnotseeit，buthispastexperienceenabledhimtogaugeitsprogressbythecabin’stemperature。Thelowerhingemustbewhiteerenow。Wouldthetaleofthiseverreachtheworld？Howwouldhisfriendstakeit？Theywouldreaditovertheircoffee，mostlikely，andtalkitoverattheclubs。Hecouldseethemveryclearly，’PoorOldCuthfert，’theymurmured;’notsuchabadsortofachap，afterall。’Hesmiledattheireulogies，andpassedoninsearchofaTurkishbath。Itwasthesameoldcrowduponthestreets。Strange，theydidnotnoticehismoosehidemoccasinsandtatteredGermansocks！Hewouldtakeacab。Andafterthebathashavewouldnotbebad。No;hewouldeatfirst。Steak，andpotatoes，andgreenthingshowfreshitallwas！Andwhatwasthat？Squaresofhoney，streamingliquidamber！Butwhydidtheybringsomuch？Ha！ha！
　　hecouldnevereatitall。Shine！Whycertainly。Heputhisfootonthebox。Thebootblacklookedcuriouslyupathim，andherememberedhismoosehidemoccasinsandwentawayhastily。
　　Hark！Thewind—vanemustbesurelyspinning。No;ameresinginginhisears。Thatwasall—ameresinging。Theicemusthavepassedthelatchbynow。Morelikelytheupperhingewascovered。Betweenthemoss—chinkedroof—poles，littlepointsoffrostbegantoappear。Howslowlytheygrew！No;notsoslowly。Therewasanewone，andthereanother。Two—three—four;theywerecomingtoofasttocount。Thereweretwogrowingtogether。Andthere，athirdhadjoinedthem。Why，therewerenomorespots。Theyhadruntogetherandformedasheet。
　　Well，hewouldhavecompany。IfGabrieleverbrokethesilenceoftheNorth，theywouldstandtogether，handinhand，beforethegreatWhiteThrone。AndGodwouldjudgethem，Godwouldjudgethem！
　　ThenPercyCuthfertclosedhiseyesanddroppedofftosleep。
　　TOTHEMANONTHETRAIL。
　　’DUMPITIN。’
　　’ButIsay，Kid，isn’tthatgoingitalittletoostrong’Whiskyandalcohol’sbadenough;butwhenitcomestobrandyandpeppersauceand—’
　　’Dumpitin。Who’smakingthispunch，anyway？’AndMalemuteKidsmiledbenignantlythroughthecloudsofsteam。’Bythetimeyou’vebeeninthiscountryaslongasIhave，myson，andlivedonrabbittracksandsalmonbelly，you’lllearnthatChristmascomesonlyonceperannum。AndaChristmaswithoutpunchissinkingaholetobedrockwithnaryapaystreak。’
　　’Stackuponthatferahighcyard，’approvedBigJimBelden，whohadcomedownfromhisclaimonMazyMaytospendChristmas，andwho，aseveryoneknew，hadbeenlivingthetwomonthspastonstraightmoosemeat。’Hain’tfergotthehoochwe—unsmadeontheTanana，heyyeh？’
　　’Well，Iguessyes。Boys，itwouldhavedoneyourheartsgoodtoseethatwholetribefightingdrunk—andallbecauseofagloriousfermentofsugarandsourdough。Thatwasbeforeyourtime，’MalemuteKidsaidasheturnedtoStanleyPrince，ayoungminingexpertwhohadbeenintwoyears。’Nowhitewomeninthecountrythen，andMasonwantedtogetmarried。Ruth’sfatherwaschiefoftheTananas，andobjected，liketherestofthetribe。Stiff？Why，Iusedmylastpoundofsugar;