"All right! We're anything you like: but let us have the news."

"It's the south fork of the north branch of the south fork----"

"What are you quitting for? why don't you spit it out of you?"

"Ain't I getting rid of it?"

"Not fast enough; quick, out with it!"

"Don't be impatient, sons, patience is a great virtue. It's taken me nigh to fifty years' hard prospecting to make a strike--and you fellows want me to tell you all about it in fifty minutes! How many minutes are there in fifty years?"

"You old fool, you'd better quit playing with us."

"Who wants to play with you?"

"You're teasing us; now quit! What river is this where you found the gold?"

"Well, it's the south fork of the north branch of the south fork of the south branch----"

"Oh, h.e.l.l!" interrupted one of the impatient ones.

"There now, just when I get going you fellows spoil it all. Remember, it took fifty years almost----"

"And it will take you fifty years to tell us where you did find it."

"No, it won't; it's on the Fifty-Seven Mile River."

"The Fifty-Seven Mile River! The south fork of the north branch of the south fork of the north branch of the Fifty-Seven Mile River!" A great shout went up.

The Fifty-Seven Mile River emptied into the Yukon on the Canadian side, but it "headed" in Alaska, where the diggings probably were. Within two minutes the Borealis was practically empty.

Of the few remaining John Berwick was one. He stood with his back to the wall, staring at the man who still stood on the bar, who returned the stare. Meanwhile the host had turned to the row of bottles and begun the counting. The number was sixty. "Sixty! eighteen hundred dollars, cheap at double the money," said the man, who proceeded to weigh out the cost.

That done he stalked out of the saloon and rapidly went his way. There was so much activity and excitement about that his progress to the Barracks was uninterrupted. No sooner was he within the gate than he tore off his beard and wig. It was Constable Hope.

Berwick had followed him from the saloon and watched him enter the Barracks. He now realized all that it meant. A blow had been struck at his organization. He realized that it was too late for any counter-effort. Greed of gold had taken possession of the men. A new rush was beginning. What call could reason, loyalty, righteousness make against that?

He wandered to the water-front and watched the activity, for within half an hour of the news of the supposed new strike being received boats had begun to shoot out from the river bank, bearing adventurers to the new diggings.

CHAPTER x.x.xVI

AFTER THE CRISIS

Mankind in Dawson having muddled its affairs, the G.o.ds took a hand in the game.

John Berwick, as he turned his face homewards early on the following day, happened to take the route that would carry him by the Barracks, notwithstanding that it would add a mile to the journey. As he climbed the hog's-back to Lookout Point he saw the tall military figure of Smoothbore in front of him. The Commandant, seeing him coming, awaited him.

"Good-morning. The air is very good."

"It is, indeed."

After this there was a pause. Evidently Smoothbore desired to make no reference to the interview of the preceding day. Possibly he judged the cause of the reformers to be already lost. If so Berwick would give him every opportunity of keeping the conversation from politics: so he continued,

"How pure the Klondike is and clear, and how beautiful are the shades across the Yukon!"

"'And only man is vile,'" quoted the Commandant.

Berwick realized that the Head of the Police was poking fun at him; and not knowing Smoothbore very well, concluded that he must know of the new stampede; in fact, he seemed to be watching the dark specks of moving men streaming over the summit of the Dome.

"Do you often walk abroad so early?" John asked.

"Yes, it is becoming a habit. One requires but little sleep in this climate; I shall soon return, and go to work."

"Are your labours heavy?"

"Oh, heavy enough; there are many details."

"You have a splendid force, sir."

"I have, and they are loyal to me and their country."

"Loyalty is among the chief of human virtues. But is loyalty in all cases a virtue?"

"I consider it so."

"Your men must find many duties distasteful to them."

"Duty is often distasteful, but it is never to be mistaken. With me it is very well defined. Are you also taking a morning const.i.tutional?"

"I am going up to the Dome." It would not do for John to let the other know the whereabouts of his abode or to divulge the fact that it was his custom to sleep at night. It was a custom with many in that city of perpetual light to sleep in the normal daytime and work at night.

"I'm going the same way. We'll walk together. I wish to spy out the land a bit. We may decide to build a trail to Moosehide."

The two continued on the winding trail, which was now lined with human habitations, set down without any idea of system. Some were cabins, others tents, others still a combination of the two--such, indeed, as was John's "home-ranch." Before many of them camp-fires were crackling and burning, and meals were being prepared. The two who were or had been the leaders of the opposing parties pa.s.sed without attention being paid to them.

"Ah! there's the danger signal, the result of the first frost, and a sign that summer will soon pa.s.s away." John pointed to a willow whose leaves had turned crimson and scarlet.

"Yes, we shall have winter soon; this weather won't last. But you are in error in supposing that the bright tints in our foliage are due to frost; the mistake is very common. The redness is mere ripeness."

They found many topics in common, and mutual interest made the stiff effort less trying as they climbed and climbed.

As they approached a point on the trail, half way to the summit, a man was seen coming down, dragging a log by a rope. They stepped aside from the path, which here was on the side hill. Berwick, who was outside, happened to place his foot on a loose lump of moss lying on a stone. It moved; his foot slipped; he lost his balance. He struggled on the shelving ground, grabbed at some gra.s.s, was tangled in some brush, tore his hands, went down with a crash, being stopped by a sharpened stump of a severed tree-trunk. The point grazed his arm and pierced the body under the shoulder-blade. At once the Commandant and the woodman went to his help, but the jar of attempting to raise him brought a cry of pain.

It was necessary to cut the tree-stump before he could be a.s.sisted to his feet.

They had to carry him down the hill, his mind in a half-swoon punctuated with throbs and stabs of pain, until he awoke to consciousness in the St. George's Hospital.