CHAPTER XVIII
ALASKA!
They camped for the remainder of the day.
"'Tain't no use grumblin' on ouh luck," remarked the philosophicalWaseche. "We got to camp right heah till the stawm weahs out. Chancesis, we'll have the Injuns onto us in a day oah so; but we cain't gobluste'catin' no mo' wheah we cain't see. Anyhow, they ain't no useborrowin' trouble--theh's a right smaht of it a-comin' to a man withouthim huntin' none. So fah, we're all to the good. The big Nawth'sfightin' to hold her secrets, but she ain't handed us no knockout--yet."
During the night the storm ceased, and with the first hint of dawn theoutfit was made ready for the trail. Robes were spread upon Connie'slight sled, and Waseche Bill placed in his sleeping bag and boundsecurely upon the robes with many turns of _babiche_. The bundles offirewood, and O'Brien's cans of gold were transferred to the othersleds, and in the dull grey of the long morning twilight the outfitpulled southward over the bench, paralleling the edge of the ravine intowhich Waseche had fallen. Progress was slow. The fresh snow rolled upand clogged the free running of the sleds, so that both Connie andO'Brien mushed ahead of the dogs, breaking out the trail with theirrackets. Hour after hour they mushed, seeking to cross the great fissurethat gaped wide and deep between them and the distant mountains thatloomed white and grand against the western skyline--the mountains thatseparated them from Alaska, and through whose fastnesses they must finda trail.
The belated sun peeped over the rim of the flat snow tundra behind them,and all three turned to view the welcome sight. Suddenly, O'Brien, witha sharp cry, pointed toward some tiny moving objects far to theeastward:
"The Injuns," he cried. "That haythen, Lemlak--th' wan that seen uslayve th' Ignatook--he's put um on our thr-rail--an' ut's back we go, avthey don't har-rpoon us--as sur-re's me name's Pathrick O'Brien!"
"It's back we _don't_ go! And you can bet your bottom dollar on that!"cried Connie, as he glanced with flashing eyes toward the two high-powerrifles lashed side by side against the rail of McDougall's sled. "Look!There's the end of the ravine! We can head west now, and hit for themountains!"
"Sur-re, they'll ketch up to us, befoor we git foive moile--we've got tobre'k thr-rail, an' they'll folly along in ut."
They were drawing nearer to the white expanse that Connie had pointedout as the end of the ravine.
"Ut ain't th' ind! Ut's a shnow bridge!" exclaimed O'Brien, and theothers saw, extending from side to side of the chasm, gleaming white inthe slanting rays of the sun, an enormous snow arch.
"Recklessly O'Brien rushed out upon the glittering spanof snow while Connie and Waseche watched breathlessly."]
Without waiting for a line, O'Brien rushed out upon the glittering span,while Connie and Waseche watched breathlessly. The great mass of snowthat bridged the chasm looked as solid as the rock of Gibraltar, but thepartners heaved a sigh of relief as the man reached the opposite side insafety and turned to retrace his steps. Connie's team, drawing theinjured man, crossed first and was quickly followed by the two moreheavily loaded sleds.
"Now, let's hit for the mountains!" cried the boy, "we've got miles andmiles on them yet."
"Hold on, son. We got lots of time, now. 'Spose yo' jes' bust open oneof them theah bundles of wood an' staht us a little camp-fiah."
"A camp-fire!" exclaimed the boy, "why, it isn't time to camp! And,besides----"
"Neveh yo' mind about that. Jes' do as I said, an' then swing that theahpack of mine around heah an' prop me up agin' it beside the fiah. Aftehthat, I want yo' an' O'Brien to take Mac's dawgs an' yo'n an' wo'k yo'way to the top of yondeh hill an' see if yo' c'n find out how fah thisheah ravine runs--get busy, now."
The boy obeyed without question and soon he and the Irishman wereheaded for the hill a quarter of a mile up the ravine.
"I wonder what he's up to?" speculated the boy, with puckered brow. "Youdon't suppose it's his leg--fever, or something, that's made him kindof--of queer?"
"No, no, lad. Oi don't know phwat's on his moind--but min loikehim--they mostly knows phwat they're doin'--er they wouldn't be doin'ut."
From the top of the hill they saw that, as far as the eye could reach,the ravine cut the tundra in an unbroken line.
"They ain't no other cr-rossin'," said O'Brien, so they retraced theirsteps to the bridge, where they could see Waseche bending close over thetiny fire.
"Why, he's frying some meat!" exclaimed Connie, "and we just hadbreakfast!" They were close now, and Waseche removed a frying pan fromthe flame and poked gingerly at its contents with a piece of brushwood.Apparently satisfied, he placed it beside him upon the snow. Connieglanced into the pan where, instead of a caribou steak, the boy sawthree yellow sticks of dynamite.
"Why, you told me----!"
"Yes, kid, I done tol' yo' long ago, neveh to thaw out no giant in apan--an' I meant it! Mos'ly, yo' c'n do it--if yo' careful--but,sometimes she jes' nachelly lets go, without no provocation, an'then--well, yo' rec'lect how we-all wiped po' Gus Meekin offen thebushes an' rocks, a half a mile from wheah his fiah was."
"But, you----"
"Hold on, son. This heah was a pahtic'lah case. I figgehed it allout--an' took a chanct. That's why I sent yo' an' O'Brien oveh onto thehill, so's if she let go they'd still be some of us left. Soon as I seenthe bridge I rec'lected how I had a dozen sticks of giant in my outfit,an' a box of caps, an' some fuse--wait, now, till I set the caps, an'then yo' c'n touch off the shot. We'll use two sticks fust, an' save theotheh to finish off with, if we need it." As he talked Waseche Billpunched holes in the soft yellow cylinders and affixed the caps and fusefor a ten-minute shot. Connie and O'Brien placed the injured man againupon the sled and made ready for a quick getaway.
"Lay 'em side by side right in the middle, an' coveh 'em with a couplehandfuls of snow," advised Waseche, "an' then we'll pull out on the flata space an' watch the fun. When them Injuns gets to the ravine it sho'will botheh 'em to figgeh how we-all got acrost."
A few minutes later they halted the outfit well out of harm's way andwatched breathlessly for the explosion. The mining of the bridge hadtaken time and, in the distance, beyond the ravine, the White Indianswere rapidly gaining. A few of the stronger and more fleet were wellwithin rifle shot, when suddenly, with a dull roar and a blur of flyingsnow, the giant let go. The eyes of the three were fixed upon thebridge--or rather upon the place where the bridge had been--for all thatremained was a cloud of powdery snow dust and a thinning haze of lightgrey smoke. The snow dust settled, the smoke drifted away and dissolvedinto the cold, clear air, and between the watchers and the White Indiansthe unbridged ravine yawned wide, and deep, and impassable.
"Whoop-la!" yelled O'Brien, leaping into the air and cracking his heelstogether. "Come on an' git us, ye phirates!" And as the savages gatheredupon the opposite side, the Irishman's laughter rang long and loudacross the frozen tundra.
The third day after the blowing up of the bridge found the threeadventurers skirting the base of the great white range that towered inan unbroken chain as far as the eye could reach to the northward and tothe southward. Vast, and grim, and impassable, the giant masses of rockand ice loomed above them, their naked, blue-white peaks and pinnaclesgleaming clean-cut and cold against the cloudless turquoise of the sky.
All day long the three dog teams mushed northward while Connie, andWaseche Bill, and O'Brien anxiously scanned the great barrier for signsof a river or creek that gave promise of leading to a divide. For,though they passed the mouths of dozens of creeks and canyons, none weresufficiently large to tempt exploration.
Waseche Bill's injured leg was much swollen, for the trail was rough andtortuous, and despite the utmost efforts of Connie and O'Brien, thelight sled bumped and slued against obstructions in a manner that causedthe man excruciating torture, although neither by sign nor sound, did hebetray the slightest pain. The Irishman and the boy took turns breakingtrail for McDougall's leaders, and working at the gee-pole to ease thelight sled over the rough places. Waseche's own dogs followe
dMcDougall's, thus giving a smoother trail to the sled bearing theinjured man.
The afternoon was well spent when Connie, who was in the rear, noticed agrowing uneasiness among the dogs of Waseche's team. The big _malamutes_whined and whimpered with a peculiar suppressed eagerness as they eyedthe mountains and, pulling close, tried time and again to pass the leadsled.
"That's funny," thought the boy, as he watched the dogs closely, "Inever saw those dogs act like that before--seems like they wanted tolead." Hour after hour the boy mushed at the tail rope, and always hewatched the strange behaviour of Waseche Bill's dogs. The sun sankbehind the mountains and, at last, O'Brien halted at the edge of a patchof scraggy spruce. The dogs were unharnessed and fed, and after Wasechewas made comfortable at the fireside, Connie prepared supper.
Suddenly, all three were startled by the long howl of a sled dog and,turning quickly saw Waseche's huge leader standing with up-pointingmuzzle, upon a low hill, some fifty yards distant, and about him stoodthe seven dogs of his team. Again he howled, and then, as though thiswere the signal, the whole pack turned tail and dashed into the North.
"Well, of all the doggone, ornery tricks I eveh heahed tell of--thattakes the cake!" cried Waseche. "Pulled out on us! Jes' plumb pulledout! An' them's good dawgs, too!"
"Where did you get that team?" asked Connie excitedly.
"Picked 'em up off a man in Eagle," answered Waseche. "He aimed to gooutside, come spring. He got 'em off a breed, a yeah back."
"Where do you s'pose they've gone?" asked the boy.
"Sea'ch me! I cain't onde'stand it."
"Ut's th' Lillimuit!" croaked O'Brien. "Ut wuz th' same wid Craik an'Greenhow!" The man shuddered and drew closer to the fire. "They's thingshere that ondly some c'n see! An' phwin they see um--always they headinto th' Narth!"
"Sho'! Quit yo' calamatatin', O'Brien! Dawgs has pulled out on folksbefo'."
"Thim wans ain't," returned the Irishman, and relapsed into gloomysilence.
With the first sign of dawn the outfit was again on the trail. The bulkof the pack had been removed from Waseche's sled and added to the othertwo, and the sled and harness _cached_ in the bush. For several milesConnie, who was travelling in the lead, followed the trail of thestampeded dog-pack, when suddenly he paused where a narrow creek canyonclove the rock-wall of a mountain. The trail led into the gorge, whichappeared to be a mere crack in the mighty wall.
"Follow 'em up, son!" called Waseche from his sled. "We need themdawgs."
So the boy swung McDougall's team into the canyon, and his own dogsfollowed, with O'Brien fast to the tail rope. On and on led the narrowtrail--westward, and upward, winding and twisting between its rockywalls--but always westward, and upward. The floor was surprisinglysmooth for so narrow a trail, and the outfit made good time, but allthree expected that each turn would be the last, and that they wouldfind the runaway dogs huddled against a dead end. Toward midday, thecanyon grew lighter, the walls seemed not so high, and the ascent grewsteeper. Suddenly, as they rounded a sharp turn, a brilliant patch ofsunlight burst upon them, and the next moment they found themselves uponthe summit of a long divide.
Never in their lives had any of the three gazed upon so welcome a sight,for there, to the westward, lay an unending chaos of high-flung peaksand narrow valleys, and easily traceable--leading in a broad path ofwhite to the south-westward, was the smooth trail of a river!
"The Kandik!" cried Connie, "and _Alaska_!"
"H-o-o-r-a-y!" yelled O'Brien, dancing about in the snow, while thetears streamed unheeded from his eyes. "Ut's good-bye Lillimuit,foriver! Av ye wuz pure gold from th' middle av th' wor-rld to th' peakav ye're hoighest hill, Oi w'dn't niver go no closter thin th' furthestaway Oi c'd git from ye! A-h-r-o-o! Wid ye're dead min--an' ye'recowld!"