Harper's Round Table, June 18, 1895.

by Various.

SNOW-SHOES AND SLEDGES.

BY KIRK MUNROE.

CHAPTER x.x.xI.

NEL-TE QUALIFIES AS A BRANCH PILOT.

Although disappointed of their guide there was nothing for the sledge party to do but push on and trust to their own good judgment to carry them safely to the end of their journey. So as much of the moose meat as could be loaded on a sledge, or several hundred pounds in all, was prepared and frozen that evening. Both then and in the morning the dogs were given all they could eat--so much, in fact, that they were greatly disinclined to travel during most of the following day.

The latest addition to the party, after being rudely awakened from the slumber into which Jalap Coombs's singing had lulled him, called pitifully for his mother, and, refusing to be comforted, finally sobbed himself to sleep on Phil's bear-skin in front of the fire. Here he spent the night, tucked warmly in a rabbit-skin robe, nestled between Phil and Serge with all his sorrows forgotten for the time being. In the early morning he was a very sober little lad, with a grievance that was not to be banished even by the sight of his beloved "doggies," while the advances of his human friends were treated with a dignified silence. He was too hungry to refuse the food offered him by Serge; but he ate it with a strictly businesslike air, in which there was nothing of unbending nor forgiveness. To Phil's attempts at conversation he turned a deaf ear, nor would he even so much as smile when Jalap Coombs made faces at him, or got down on hands and knees and growled for his special benefit. He was evidently not to be won by any such foolishness.

He was roused to an exhibition of slight interest by the tinkling music of Musky's bells when the dogs were harnessed; and when everything being ready for a start, Phil lifted him on the foremost sledge, and tucked him into a spare sleeping-bag that was securely lashed to it, he murmured: "Mamma, Nel-te go mamma."

The loads having been redistributed to provide for the accommodation of the young pa.s.senger, this foremost sledge bore besides Nel-te only the Forty-Mile mail, the sleeping equipment of the party, and their extra fur clothing, the _chynik_, in which was stored the small quant.i.ty of tea still remaining, what was left of the pemmican, and an axe. As with its load it did not weigh over two hundred pounds, its team was reduced to three dogs, Musky, Luvtuk, and big Amook. Serge still drove seven dogs, and his sledge bore the entire camp equipment and stock of provisions, except the recently acquired moose meat. This was loaded on the last sledge, which was drawn by five dogs, and driven by Jalap Coombs according to his own peculiar fashion.

As soon as the sledges were in motion, and Nel-te conceived the idea that he was going home his spirits revived to such an extent that he chirruped cheerfully to the dogs, and even smiled occasionally at Phil, who strode alongside.

They crossed Fox Lake, pa.s.sed up the stream that connected it with Indian Trail Lake, and finally went into camp on the edge of the forest at the head of the latter earlier than usual, because they could not see their way to the making of any further progress. Although they felt certain that there must be some stream flowing into the lake by which they could leave it, they could discover no sign of its opening. So they made camp, and leaving Jalap Coombs to care for it Phil and Serge departed in opposite directions to scan every foot of the sh.o.r.e in search of a place of exit.

On reaching this camping-place Nel-te looked about him inquiringly, and with evident disappointment, but he said nothing, and only gazed wistfully after the two lads when they set forth on their search. For a time he hung about the camp-fire watching Jalap Coombs, who was too busily engaged in cooking supper and preparing for the night to pay much attention to him. At length the little chap strolled over to the sledges, and engaged in a romp with the three dogs who dragged his particular conveyance. Every now and then his shrill laughter came to Jalap's ears, and a.s.sured the latter that the child was safe.

Alter a while the explorers returned, both completely discouraged and perplexed.

"I don't believe there is any inlet to this wretched lake!" cried Phil, flinging himself down on a pile of robes. "I've searched every foot of coast on my side, and am willing to swear that there isn't an opening big enough for a rabbit to squeeze through, so far as I went."

"Nor could I find a sign of one," affirmed Serge, "though perhaps in the morning--"

"h.e.l.lo! Where's Nel-te?" interrupted Phil, springing to his feet and gazing about him anxiously.

"He were about here just as you boys kim in," replied Jalap Coombs, suspending operations at the fire, and gazing about him with a startled expression. "I heered him playing with the dogs not more'n a minute ago."

"Well, he isn't in sight now," said Phil, in a voice whose tone betrayed his alarm, "and if we don't find him in a hurry there's a chance of our not doing it at all, for it will be dark in fifteen minutes more."

As he spoke, Phil hastily replaced the snow-shoes that he had just laid aside. Serge did the same thing, and then they began to circle about the camp with heads bent low in search of the tiny trail. At short intervals they called aloud the name of the missing one, but only the mocking forest echoes answered them.

Suddenly Serge uttered a joyful shout. He had found the prints of small snow-shoes crossed and recrossed by those of dogs. In a moment Phil joined him, and the two followed the trail together. It led for a short distance along the border of the lake in the direction previously taken by Phil, and then making a sharp bend to the right struck directly into the forest.

When the boys reached the edge of the timber they found a low opening so overhung by bushes as to be effectually concealed from careless observation. The curtaining growth was so bent down with a weight of snow that even Nel-te must have stooped to pa.s.s under it. That he had gone that way was shown by the trail dimly visible in the growing dusk, and the lads did not hesitate to follow. Forcing a path through the bushes, which extended only a few yards back from the lake, they found themselves in an open highway, evidently the frozen surface of a stream.

"Hurrah!" shouted Phil, who was the first to gain it. "I believe this is the very creek we have been searching for. It must be, and the little chap has found it for us."

"Yes," replied Serge. "It begins to look as though Cree Jim's son had taken Cree Jim's place as guide."

Now the boys pushed forward with increased speed. At length they heard the barking of dogs, and began to shout, but received no answer. They had gone a full quarter of a mile from the lake ere they caught sight of the little fur-clad figure plodding steadily forward on what he fondly hoped to be his way toward home and the mother for whom his baby heart so longed. Musky, Luvtuk, and big Amook were his companions, and not until he was caught up in Phil's arms did the child so much as turn his head, or pay the slightest heed to those who followed his trail.

As he was borne back in triumph toward camp his lower lip quivered, and two big tears rolled down his chubby cheeks, but he did not cry nor utter a complaint; nor from that time on did he make further effort to regain his lost home. The boys had hardly begun to retrace their steps when another figure loomed out of the shadows, and came rapidly toward them. It looked huge in the dim light, and advanced with gigantic strides.

"h.e.l.lo!" cried Phil, as he recognized the new-comer. "Where are you bound?"

"Bound to get lost along with the rest of the crew," replied Jalap Coombs, stoutly. "Didn't I tell ye I wouldn't put up with your gettin'

lost alone ag'in?"

"That's so; but, you see, I forgot," laughed Phil. "Now that we are all found, though, let's get back to the supper you were cooking before you decided to get lost. By-the-way, Mr. Coombs, do you realize that this is the very stream for which we have been hunting? What do you think of our young pilot now?"

"Think of him!" exclaimed Jalap Coombs. "I think he's just the same as all in the piloting business. Pernicketty--knows a heap more'n he'll ever tell, and won't ever p'int out a channel till you're just about to run aground. Then he'll do it kinder careless and onconsarned, same as the kid done jest now. Oh, he's a regular branch pilot, he is, and up to all the tricks of the trade."

Bright and early the following morning, thanks to Nel-te's pilotage, the sledges were speeding up the creek on their way to Lost Lake. By nightfall they had crossed it, three other small lakes, descended an outlet of the last to Little Salmon River, and after a run of five miles down that stream found themselves once more amid the ice hummocks of the Yukon, one hundred and twenty miles above the mouth of the Pelly. Of this distance they had saved about one-third by their adventurous cut-off. The end of another week found them one hundred and fifty miles further up the Yukon and at the mouth of the Tahkeena. It had been a week of the roughest kind of travel, and its hard work was telling severely on the dogs.

As they made their last camp on the mighty river they were to leave for good on the morrow they were both glad and sorry. Glad to leave its rough ice and escape the savage difficulties that it offered in the shape of canons and roaring rapids only a few miles above, and sorry to desert its well-mapped course for the little-known Tahkeena.

Still their dogs could not hold out for another week on the Yukon, while over the smooth going of the tributary stream they might survive the hardships of the journey to its very end; and without these faithful servants our travellers would indeed be in a sorry plight. So while they reminisced before their roaring camp-fire of the many adventures they had encountered since entering Yukon mouth, two thousand miles away, they looked hopefully forward to their journey's end, now less than as many hundred miles from that point. To the dangers of the lofty mountain-range they had yet to cross they gave but little thought, for the mountains were still one hundred miles away.

CHAPTER x.x.xII.

THE FUR-SEAL'S TOOTH CREATES A SENSATION.

One evening late in March the smoke of a lonely camp-fire curled above a fringe of stunted spruces forming the timber line high up on the northern slope of the Alaskan coast range. Kotusk, the natives call these mountains. Far below lay the spotless sheet of Tahk Lake, from which the Tahkeena winds for one hundred miles down its rugged valley to swell the Yukon flood. From the foot of the mountains the unbroken solitude of the vast northern wilderness swept away in ice-bound silence to the polar sea. Far to the westward St. Elias and Wrangel, the great northern sentinels of the Rocky Mountain system, reared their ma.s.sive heads twenty thousand feet above the Pacific. From them the mighty range of snow-clad peaks follows the coast line eastward, gathering, with icy fingers, the mist clouds ever rising from the warm ocean waters, converting them with frigid breath into the grandest glaciers of the continent, and sending them slowly grinding their resistless way back to the sea.

On one side of this stupendous barrier our sledge party from the Yukon was now halted. On the other side lay the frontier of civilization, safety, and their journey's end. Between the two points rose the mountains, calmly contemptuous of human efforts to penetrate their secrets of avalanche and glacier, icy precipice and snow-filled gorge, fierce blizzard and ice-laden whirlwind, desolation and death. It is no wonder that, face to face with such things, the little group, gathered about the last camp-fire they might see for days or perhaps forever, should be unusually quiet and thoughtful.

Still clad in their well-worn garments of fur they were engaged in characteristic occupations. Phil, looking anxious and careworn, was standing close to the fire, warming and cleaning his rifle. Serge was making a stew of the last of their moose meat, which would afterwards be frozen and taken with them into untimbered regions where camp-fires would be unknown. Jalap Coombs was thoughtfully mending a broken snow-shoe, and at the same time finding his task sadly interrupted by Nel-te, who, nestled between his knees, was trying to attract the sailorman's undivided attention.

The little chap, with his great sorrow forgotten, was now the life and pet of the party. So firmly was his place established among them that they wondered how they had ever borne the loneliness of a camp without his cheery presence, and could hardly realize that he had only recently come into their lives. Now, too, half the anxiety with which they regarded the perilous way before them was on his account.

"I'm worrying most about the dogs," said Phil, continuing a conversation begun some time before, "and I am afraid some of them will give out before we reach the summit."

"Yes," agreed Serge; "To-day's pull up from the lake has told terribly on them, and Amook's feet have been badly cut by the crust ever since he ate his boots."

"Poor old dog!" said Phil. "It was awfully careless of me to forget and leave them on him all night. I don't wonder a bit at his eating them, though, considering the short rations he's been fed on lately."

The dogs were indeed having a hard time. Worn by months of sledge-pulling over weary leagues of snow and ice, their trials only increased as the tedious journey progressed. The days were now so long that each offered a full twelve hours of sunlight, while the snow was so softened by the growing warmth that in the middle of the day it seriously clogged both snow-shoes and sledges. Then a crust would form, through which the poor dogs would break for an hour or more, until it stiffened sufficiently to bear their weight. Added to these tribulations was such a scarcity of food that half-rations had become the rule for every one, men as well as dogs, excepting Nel-te, who had not yet been allowed to suffer on that account. Of the many dogs that had been connected with the expedition at different times only nine were now left, and some of these would evidently not go much further.

As the boys talked of the condition of their trusty servants, and exchanged anxious forebodings concerning the crossing of the mountains, their attention was attracted by an exclamation from Jalap Coombs.

Nel-te had been so insistent in demanding his attention that the sailorman was finally obliged to lay aside his work and lift the child to his knees saying,

"Waal, Cap'n Kid, what's the orders now, sir?"

"C'ap'n Kid" was the name he had given to the little fellow on the occasion of the latter's debut as pilot; for, as he said, "Every branch pilot answers to the hail of C'ap'n, and this one being a kid becomes 'Cap'n Kid' by rights."

For answer to his question the child held out a small fur-booted foot, and intimated that the boot should be pulled off.

"Bad foot, hurt Nel-te," he said.