"My word!" said George, "what a beauty!"

They stood for some minutes surveying the dead monarch of the mountain crests, their entertainer taking one of the candles and holding it at the animal's head. Suddenly they heard groans, which appeared to come through the doorway at the opposite end of the room.

"What's that?"

The man took a candle and walked to the door, bending his head, as if listening intently. The groans were continued. John and George went over to him. He held the candle in his left hand, and appeared to haul at the door with his right. "Oh! Oh!" came from the room in tones of deepest distress. The fellow handed the candle to John, and then, catching the door with both hands, gave it a mighty wrench. The heavy plank door opened and showed a dark cavity, which drank up the slender light of the candle so effectually that they could distinguish nothing. Cautiously John entered, followed by George. The door was slammed; they were trapped.

"We're caught! Soapy has us," exclaimed George.

John turned, shaded the candle with his hand, and explored the room. It was not large, and it took him but a minute to make a circuit of the four walls.

"We're caught!" was said again.

"But there is no one here: where did the groans come from?" asked John.

"Don't know, if they weren't ventriloquism," replied George.

That seemed likely. John ran and gave the door a kick: it was solid as a wall.

"What will they do with us?" he asked.

"Freeze us to death; we'll freeze quick enough in this atmosphere."

The place was cold, clammy, benumbing. The walls were log; the floor of earth, sparkling with frost crystals; the roof was built of poles. There was no window. Here and there, where the crevices of the logs had not been thoroughly filled, and the air came in, there were patches of frost. They searched for some implement. The room was thoroughly bare--there was not even a billet of wood, let alone an axe, or saw.

Things were at a pa.s.s. They were both to perish in horrible death. The cold was seizing them. They stamped up and down the room, and shouted.

There was, there could be, no answer.

Frenzy came over them. Trapped! To perish of bitter cold! Horrible!...

Horrible! To famish as caged animals. They saw their little destiny--to walk, and walk, and walk, and then to lie down and sleep till death, the reality, came. Their impotency galled them. How weak were their arms and strength against these walls of logs!

They marched about for an hour or more, encouraging each other as brave men will.

Then cries were heard faintly from the outside, and new noises, which grew, and continued to grow. A great blow shook the wall, and then another. John shouted; George shouted; the blows were repeated; then they heard voices and shouted again. The door was burst open and in rushed a number of men.

"Come, fellows, out of this, or you'll be cooked!"

It was the voice of Hugh.

They eagerly followed him through the room where the goat was, and out through a side door into the open, where a great glare met them. An outhouse was on fire. Men were rushing about and shouting; but Hugh kept on through the crowd, and the rescued followed him till they reached the safety of the street.

"Now we'd better duck for home," said Spencer. "I go with you"; and through the storm they struggled till they reached the Frau's restaurant.

She had not yet retired, so they called for supper--tea, bacon, and beans. After they had settled down Hugh told his story.

"You see, fellows, after I landed I went over to the Chilkoot to have a look at things there; but after talking to the fellows I reckoned that the White Pa.s.s was best for me, so back I comes. I was in the hall to-night with you fellows, but you did not see me; and I thought I would just lay back and see if you would hit the games. Then I kind of got a notion Soapy's men were watching you; so I thought I would watch the whole outfit. I see you go back to the c.r.a.p-game, and then I see you go into the room with your bunco man--and then I don't see you come out; so I said to myself, you are there for keeps! Now there was with me one fellow I could rely on, so I asked him to keep an eye on that door, and I got out on the street to size up the building. I see towards the rear the wing you went into, so I walks down there, sizing things up. Round on the back side I see a door and a window, but the door had the snow piled up against it--besides, I knew they would not lock you in a room with a window in it, as you could easily kick that out.

"Then I looks at the walls, and I see by the end of the logs sticking out that there was a room which had neither window nor door to the outside, and I said, 'That's the cage!' So I ran back to the saloon and asked my friend there if anybody had come out, and he said 'No.' I came to the conclusion that I would make a bluff of going in at the door you came out of. It was no good; a fellow stopped me and said, 'This room is private.' This made me sure you were still there, so I commenced figuring out how I could get you free, and I thought hard. The thing was to get a crowd together; and as a dog fight is no good in Skagway in the middle of the night--especially in a snowstorm--I said to myself, 'Fire!' I remembered a building I took for a wood-shed lying near your skook.u.m house,[5] so I just hunted it up, and after finding there was a lot of wood in it, with some hay, I set a match to it, and got out, taking an axe with me. In five minutes it was going fine, and I yelled 'Fire! fire! fire!' Then it was all easy. I struck the logs with the axe, and yelled there was somebody in there who would get burned; I busted in the door to the outer room, and then the one into where you were locked up--the other fellows following. I don't know what the other fellows around the fire will think you were doing in there; but I guess they won't ask any questions. Fellows don't ask questions in Soapy's town; it doesn't do them much good if they do."

[5] "Skook.u.m House": Chinook Indian term for prison--literally "strong" house.

John and George expressed their grat.i.tude very simply.

"I am going in over the White Pa.s.s," he continued, "and I figure, as us fellows can't keep clear of each other, that we'd better join forces."

"Done!" cried George.

"A good idea!" said John.

So it was agreed.

In the morning details were talked over, and business was arranged.

Additional purchases were made, including two more dogs, thereupon named Tom and Jerry. Hugh induced his friends to part with much of their bedding, saying he had a large lynx-skin robe that was warmer than a dozen pairs of blankets, under which the three might sleep. A waterproof, a large tanned moose-skin, and a couple of pairs of blankets would be sufficient to lie upon. Then the commissariat was considered.

Sugar, tea, evaporated potatoes, dried fruit, etc., to be used in the preparation of every meal, were put into small canvas bags, and those into a large sack. The general stores were put away in waterproof canvas sacks, which were marked to indicate contents. The axes of the party were ground and sharpened. At last all was ready for the advance.

CHAPTER VI

HITTING THE TRAIL

To be early on the trail was an essential to Hugh Spencer. He was up at four on the morning of the start, harnessed the dogs, carried the outfit to the sleigh, and lashed it on. Then he aroused his friends, who, when dressed, found that an early breakfast had been arranged for them of bacon, eggs, and beans.

"Better put lots next your ribs, for there isn't room to cook a meal on the trail between here and White Pa.s.s City," was the advice they received.

They left the restaurant, after a kindly good-bye from the old lady.

John and George tied their hand-bags, containing underclothing, towel, soap, etc., and socks to the load. The main portion of their extra clothing was left in the general supplies.

Of the five dogs he of the stub tail--Dude the leader--was the only one that appeared to take an interest in the proceedings, for he was standing watching his master. The others were mere b.a.l.l.s of fur lying in the snow. Hugh went ahead and harnessed himself in the cord that was tied to the front of the sleigh, and grasped the "gee-pole," lashed as a single shaft on the right side of the sleigh.

"Mush," he ordered. Dude gave a tug at the traces, and the other dogs stood up.

"Mush," was ordered again. The whole five dogs strained at the traces, in a half-hearted sort of way, not sufficient to move the load. Hugh then let go his hold of the pole, threw off his harness, and picked up a whip that was tucked under the lashings of the load. Behind Dude was Two Bits; then came Four Bits, Tom and Jerry. Beginning with Two Bits, he gave each a cut with the whip, causing heart-rending howls; but Dude stood throughout the ordeal, evidently oblivious to the sufferings of his companions; his tongue protruding. He was a picture of conscious virtue. Dude knew these signs of the trail, the stern, hard life, the cut of the whip, the cry of the dog.

Hugh then cracked the whip, re-harnessed himself in the cord, and grasped the gee-pole.

"Mush," he ordered. The five dogs strained at the traces, taking quick, furtive glances over their shoulders at the man with the whip. The load moved; the march towards the great and golden Klondike had started.

Early as they were they saw, as they reached the main street, others on the trail; and up the long avenue heading north between the great mountains horse-teams, dog-teams, and men unaided were drawing their loads. The wind was roaring down the pa.s.s, cutting their faces like a knife. They now appreciated the special virtues of the parka, for with hood drawn over their head, as they bent before the gale, their faces largely escaped the cutting blasts; and the light material of which the garment was made was wonderfully effective in keeping the wind from their bodies.

Although the recent storm had improved the travelling, it was not long before the sleigh grated on gravel and stopped, the dogs appearing instinctively to realize that the noise meant further effort was useless. Hugh said nothing, but disengaged himself from his harness, went to the rear of the load, and undid a coil of rope from either side, to which Berwick and Bruce were harnessed also. He then resumed his position. "Mush!" The three men and five dogs threw themselves against the load. There was a shriek from the gravel, and the sleigh glided again over the soft snow.

The difficulty being over, Hugh told his friends to disengage themselves and throw the cords back on the load, which they did, after protesting that they had better remain in harness and help to pull.

"No, you fellows can each take a turn at the gee-pole when I get tired,"

Hugh said.

The dogs would stop for any excuse; it was only necessary for Hugh to pa.s.s the time of day with a south-bound traveller, when the train would stand, their tongues lolling out, their eyes vacantly staring. 'Tis the nature of the beast. The native dogs of the north never give the impression that they work because they feel it their duty. They work because they know there is a stronger will than theirs behind them, a will with a whip.