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THE ARCTIC NIGHT

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"J/)' W(xtch against your ^olif, Jim Baiiaiitjiic '.*'—/>, 2.

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

ROGER POCOCK

AUTHOR OF "tales OF WESTERN LIFE," "tHE
RULES OF THE GAME," ETC.

LONDON: CHAPMAN & HALL, Ld.

1896

[A^i rights resen'ed]

< m i I f n u ll mi i wd i.

Rlchaiu) Cla,y & Sons, Limited,
London & Bungay.

i !

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE— THE STRAMGEK's COMING

THE SILVER CHAiMBER . ,

THE LITTLE FUR SEAL. .

THE ARREST OF DEERFOOT

THE BURIED TREASURE .

THE END OF THE WORLD

THE GULF STREAM PANIC

THE blackguard's BROTHER .

TH£ CUESA Of WOUNDED WRIST

THE CAT FACTORY

THE TRAGEDY OF THE 'SKABIRD*
A COWBOY ON 'change . . .
EPILOGUE— DAYBREAK ....

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GENUINE ONLY WITH FACSIMILE OF
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THE ARCTIC NIGHT

PROLOGUE

THE stranger's COMING
TOLD BY BILLY

We must have been playing for nearly
fifteen hours when I got up from the
table dead broke, with just enough interest
left in the world to keep me lounging
behind the Tenderfoot, while he staked
his last ounce, and lost. Jim Rallantyne,
who sat opposite, threw down that greasy
remnant our *deck' of cards, yawned,
stretched himself, and was gathering
together his bags of dust and nuggets
stacked breast-high on the table, when
the youngster laid hands on the dice.
" Stay, Jim," said he. " What does it
matter which of us win or lose? What
can anything matter in Scurvy Gulch ? "

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THE ARCTIC NIGHT

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" That's so," said Jim wearily.

" Then, if you're game for high stakes,
I'll set my nickel watch against your pile,
Jim Ballantyne ! "

It was just like the Tenderfoot's cheek,
offering to stake his cheap Waterbury
against as much gold as a man could
carry ; but though we knew his little
ways we stared, even the Captain found
strength to crawl to the edge of his
bunk, while not one of us ventured a
remark. We could not see the Tender-
foot's eyes because of the black shadows,
but his face was ghastly white, save where
the stove cast a brand of red-hot light
across his forehead. I remember a sense
of awe in the silent cabin while the dice
rattled harshly, and the youngster laughed
at us in a nasty hollow, despairing way.
*' Yes, you fellows, my watch, ticking
yonder by the bunk, is the only living
thing in Scurvy Gulch that feels like
home; but just for fun, Jim, at three
throws— that watch against your pile ! ''

" Well," said Jim, " I dunno as I care ; ''
then, after a long yawn, " Bring on your
watch."

But as the youngster took his time-

PROLOGUE

Tn'Tair' I I I ii H i i iii f iiPi

piece from its peg on the log-wall, a
strange thing happened : he gave a
sudden start, which caused the watch to
slip from between his fingers, and fall
with a clash on the hearth-stone before
the fire. Hoping that only the glass was
broken, I picked it up, but there was an
ominous click of loose wheels — the watch
was past mending.

" Boys," I said, laying it on the table
before them, "until the sun comes up
again next spring we have nothing to
measure the time."

The Captain fell back in his bunk,
covering his face with the blanket, but
neither he, nor Jim, nor I could reproach
the boy, because this thing was serious.

At last the old sailor broke the silence.
*' Forty years come June I have been at
sea, thirty-one years I have been a navi-
gator, but I never was lost before. No
latitude, no longitude, six months of
arctic night, with no medicine to fight
the scurvy, no Bible, no 'baccy, no hope,
and not a blessed thing to measure the
hours ! "

Jim Ballantyne left his gold heaped up
on the table, and rolled into his bunk ; I

i*mpin>|iiji I III! Ill

iWiT'ir 'ys

f i"

4 THE ARCTIC NIGHT

made a noise with the fire, because the
Kid might be crying ; but his voice
sounded eager, even cheerful, as he asked
me to come out with him for a spell.

So, leaving our two partners to sleep,
the Kid and I put on our beaver caps
and mittens, in addition to which I
made him tie a sack about his neck
by way of a scarf, before we went out of
doors.

* This cabin of ours, lost somewhere in
the wastes of Arctic America, marked
the outlet of Scurvy Gulch. Here, all the
summer, we had been digging in an
ancient watercourse for gold, slowly,
because the hard-frozen gravel would
turn our picks like basalt, and had to be
thawed out with fires. So rich was the
ground at bed-rock, that we had panned
out gold enough to make us all prosper-
ous, yet not content worked on until the
winter made us prisoners. Now we would
have bartered the gold for a bottle of
lime-juice, because all our decoctions of
willow-bark and twigs had failed to save
Pierre du Plessis from death by scurvy ;
the Captain was too weak to leave his
bunk; Jim Ballantyne was fighting

PROLOGUE

gamely against a growing languor ; the
Tenderfoot and I were making pitiful
pretences to cheat each other into the
hope that all was well.

We had plenty of frozen venison and
musk-ox beef to last until sunrise, fish we
speared by torchlight at our water-hole in
the river, driftwood was abundant for the
stove ; but we knew that without some
acid everything we ate was a slow poison,
and the willow twigs had failed.

The cabin was only a roof of driftwood
built over one of our pits in the frozen
gravel ; but we kept the gables clear of
snow so that our windows of oiled skin
might serve as a beacon to guide us home
when we strayed — indeed, otherwise we
might often have passed by the place and
been lost, for there was nothing else to
mark this mound of snow in the wide
waste of the tundras.

I do not know how cold it was, because
in a dry climate one feels little difference
beyond forty degrees Fahrenheit below
zero. Many a starlight night, on the
Saskatchewan Plains, I have walked about
warm and comfortable while the Govern-
ment thermometers stood at sixty-five or

■pmp

6 THE ARCTIC NIGHT

more degrees below zero. No wind blows
when the mercury is frozen, the air is so
still that one can hear a man's voice for
two miles, so dry that the electric tension
stimulates every nerve, sets the blood
racing, and makes one feel strong as a
horse. So, as the kid and I v/alked
briskly up and down, we began to forget
how miserable we had been in the cabin,
and if we had net exhausted every possible
topic we should have talked.

The white auroral arches raced up one
after another out of the north. That was
the usual thing, varied with the courses
of the moon or an occasional storm ; but
now there were portents in the sky, for
the lights were changing to a chill green,
then brigades of scarlet lances, serried
lines of opalescent spears, army after
army of the celestial hosts, charged reel-
ing across the heavens, while at times we
felt in the awful silence a low rustling
sound like the flutter of the robes of
angels. At last the pageant melted away,
leaving the clear sky encrusted with
millions of stars, like a vast dial upon
which the Great Bear was swinging round
the Pole — the hour-hand of Time,

,ii

PROLOGUE

" Look, Kid," — I took hold of his
arm, to which he promptly objected, —
"while we poor midgets have been
fretting over your broken watch, we
forgot the clock up yonder, that keeps
time for the Universe."

He chuckled —

"You're getting maudlin, Billy, old
boy/'

" Youngster," said I, " you're going to
the dejce."

"What odds?"

" Pretty heavy odds. The memory of
a nice girl who is fond of you, against the
bad angel who set you to play that
game."

" There's precious little of angels here
— good, bad, or indifferent. They keep
away south, where it is warm."

" Hope, then, playing with Despair for
your soul."

"That's all rot," said the Tenderfoot
frankly. " There's nothing hereabouts
but cold and scurvy."

"A month ago that gold meant the
winning of the girl yonder at Home."

" This isn't a month ago — one would
think I was cold enough already, without

' m

%»-«'iA.l''

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

being preached at. Some fellow's sure to
find us. Bones always looms up to scare
people sooner or later — and he'll see a
letter I wrote this week — or last — I've
lost count. He'll find it between my
ribs — that's the Devil's post-box ; and
perhaps be good enough to deliver it in
some English graveyard."

" You ought to be ashamed of yourself."

"Because I say what you think? My
nose is freezing.*' He rubbed it with
some snow powder until it reddened.
" You know jolly well," he went on, " that
this scurvy will finish off the last of us
before sunrise."

I could not answer that, and yet, look-
ing up at the great Dial in the sky, the
finger of the Almighty —

" I say ! " — the boy struck at my ribs
like a young battering-ram — "don't go
to sleep. You're as solemn as a boiled
owl with a frozen ear."

While I chafed out the frost which had
suddenly stung my ear like a hot needle,
I could not refrain from laughing a little,
knowing that the loneliness of the last
few minutes must have frightened even
the Tenderfoot for once.

PROLOGUE 9

" Well ? "

" Do you know," he asked, " what made
me drop that watch ? "

" I saw you start."

"Yes,"— he spoke scornfully, — "you'd
have started too if you'd heard what I
did— a gun-shot."

What nonsense ! — fancy a gun-shot
there! "No games. Kid. You heard a
log in the wall cracked by the frost. I
heard it too."

" Hush ! " whispered the youngster.
" Listen ! "

Then there came up out of the dark-
ness a faint, faint sound, drowned pre-
sently by the loud beating of our hearts.

" What is it ? "

" Hush ! "

A minute later came the sound again,
soft as the footfall of some animal. Again
it came, but my foot scrunched in the
powdery snow, and the Tenderfoot swore.
Then I felt a breath of air out of the
darkness bearing the steady Tf/^/V^-whish,
w>^/j^-whish, of snow-shoes.

We ran forward, yelling ; a loud call
answered out of the night ; a shadow
loomed up against the snow-fields j we

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THE ARCTIC NIGHT

. i

heard a voice speaking — and found our-
selves face to face with a man !

There he stood, reeling upon his snow-
shoes like a drunkard, and reaching out
his hands, as though for help, said, with a
feeble chuckle —

" Good-evening, gentlemen ! "

Taking off the man's snow-shoes, I put
my arm about him, so as to lead him
gently up the rough path from the river ;
but the Tenderfoot ran on ahead, aroused
Jim Ballantyne, tended the stove, and
shook down his blanket in the empty
bunk.

Our guest seemed to be light-headed
from want of sleep, for presently, when
he was warming himself beside the stove,
he said such queer things that the Kid
could hardly be kept from laughing.

" Gentlemen," the Stranger began, " my
name is Giggleswick — Colonel Hiram W.
Giggleswick, at your service.'*

With much gravity I introduced the
Captain, Jim Ballantyne, and myself, then
explained that the youngster was a
Tenderfoot — the Honourable Larry Wych-
Bradwardine, now busy chopping the
viXQ^t, " We're prospectors/' I went on ;

PROLOGUE

"struck a fairly good placer; then got
snowed up for our pains."

" Happy to make your acquaintance,
gentlemen. Wall, I may say that I ain't
exactly travelling for my health — started,
in fact, from the Arctic coast with a band
of Esquimaux, which the Ex-
cuse my sarcasms ; they've deserted me.
We were hunting for mammoth ivory.
Neaouw, you don't happen to have noticed
a herd of mammoth meandering around
here ? "

" I bagged a large buck unicorn last
Friday," sai^ the Kid.

" Little boy,'' answered the Stranger,
" when you grow up you may develop the
faculty of reason. Until then, ta-ta ! *'

The Tenderfoot had to be removed.

" As I was saying," quoth the Stranger,
" my mammoth have, I presume, gotten
by this time into the God-forsaken Hills,
where we'll round 'em up next spring.
Extinct animal? Wall, neaouw, do you
imagine I'd be mosing around here after
ghosts ? Do you estimate me as a man
likely to waste six months of time, worth
ten dollars a day, in the pursuit of a dod-
^asted hallucination.'* No, siree. Hun^y?

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

L i"''

Wall, now you mention it, I am kinder
sharp set. Sort of cramp in my legs, too

— which — which '^

His eyes rolled in their sockets, then
settled upon me with a glassy stare ; he
clutched at the table, missed, and pitched
over on the floor in a dead faint. Of
course we soon brought him to ; but as
to what he was pleased to describe as

* cramp,' our worst fears were realized,
for under his frozen wet moccasins, and
three pairs of frozen wet socks, his feet
were like hard white marble. The

* cramp ' had been the torment of partial
thawing, which is like burning with live
fire, but fortunately we were experienced
in dealing with frost-bite ; so by keeping
his feet in iced water for some nine hours,
we managed to thaw them, without pain
or any injury to the skin.

It was the Tenderfoot who was finally
deputed to break the news to our guest
that he must lie patiently on his back
until further orders.

"Why, bless you, child," said the
Stranger, patting the Kid's bronzed cheek,
" you must go and teach your granny to
suck eggs. But I feel real bad to see a

PROLOGUE

youngster like you with the marks of
scurvy. What have you all been taking —
willow twigs? Well, follow back along
my trail three miles, and you'll find the
top twigs of some bushes, with red and
yellow leaves, just out of the snow. Yes,
it's a cranberry swamp, low bush cran-
berries, the best anti-scorbutic known.
Dig down a foot or two, and you'll find
all the berries dead ripe, cured by the
frost, hard as bullets ; a dish of them
berries will set you all to rights. See " —
to our delight he produced a silver watch
— "take this along to time the distance
with."

*' Hold on ! " for we were so roused by
this sudden glimmer of hope that there
was no waiting. " I guess them berries
will keep. Hold down your hair, gentle-
men, until I get through talking. I sur-
mise that I had the honour to be intro-
duced to the Honourable Which What-
d'ye Galium.'* He reached to an inner
pocket very feebly. " I got this letter,
when I was down south in the fall, to
Fort Silence, and it's for an Honourable
Which Something-or-other — I hope—

*'Hope!" yelled the Tenderfoot.

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I i*iiivp«vi'*'" '.I* [rvf^m,^* 1 ^.'

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

" Hope ! " He seized upon the letter.
" Gummy ! Boys, it's from Home ! "

Should Colonel Giggleswick ever hap-
pen to read this book, I hope he will
pardon the liberty which I have taken in
presenting the little foibles and tricks of
speech which endeared him to us during
that long night in Rupert's-land. If we
were of some service to him, the obligation
is far outweighed by his advice about the
cranberries, which undoubtedly saved us
all from a horrible death by scurvy. But
that is only part of our great debt. Men
who are shut up as we were that winter
become unhealthy, quarrelling viciously
over trifles, lapse into dark moods, ending
in hysterical outbreaks, for which it would
go hard with one to be held responsible.
The Colonel seemed to have the knack of
smoothing our ruffled fur ; the tact, the
cool humour which puts a bad temper to
shame.

" Boys," he said once, very soon after
his coming, " you've seen considerable of
the world.'' Anybody else would have
excepted the Tenderfoot, but the Colonel
won the lad's confidence from that
moment. "You've all got yarns to tell,

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PROLOGUE

and — well, I'm accounted considerable of
a liar myself. Now, why shouldn't we
submit to hear one another's stories?
Gentlemen, I move that this house be
resolved into a committee of the whole.
Eh.'*" There was a general laugh of
derision. " Carried unanimously. I pro-
pose that the Captain be invited to take
the chair. Seconded by Billy. Carried.
I now rise to a resolution that the Chair-
man be empowered to command any
member of this committee to report his
experiences, on pa-'i of bucking three
days' firewood. Seconded by Billy.
Carried.

*' Order ! The Chairman is now wishful
to begin the exercises."

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THE SILVER CHAMBEH

TOLD BY THE STRANGER

"Mining?" queried the Stranger, —
"mining? Wall, now I claim to be posted
on mining. Didn't I take a hold of the
* Let Her Go Gallagher' silver mine when
the stock was down at nothing with the
bottom knocked out, and make that same
property hum ? Never heard of the
claim ? Why, Gallagher stock has been
flummoxing round on London 'Change
since 1880. A pretty straight silver pro-
position was the Let Her Go Gallagher.
An American miner would have stocked
her at a hundred thousand dollars, and
made dividends. But, — pshaw ! — what can
you expect from a gang of Britishers ! A
company-promoter picked her up cheap
from the assigns of a busted Jew, got up
a syndicate, with Lord John Guineapig
for President, and, times being so-so,

■aHe silver chamber

»7

palmed off a million dollars' worth of stock
on the Mugginses. Then he invested the
plunder in his wife's name, went smash,
and got v'hitewashed in Bankruptcy.

*' So there was the Let Her Go Gal-
lagher, like a white elephant, on the
hands of Lord Guineapig and his Mug-
ginses. What was they going to do —
work the mine .'* Well, you see Lord
Guineapig's younger brother was a mining
expert, and the Mugginses — mostly
preachers and widows — were proud to
be humbugged by a Lord, so the end of
it was that the Directors levied an assess-
ment, and started to work developing.

" Now, as I said, an American mining-
man with one hundred thousand dollars
would have made the mine pay ; but it
needs thundering big profits to distribute
a dividend on a million dollars. These
Tenderfeet began operations by renting
a big place in the City ; built a quarter-
million-dollar granite building for offices
in Denver, Colorado ; put u j the wrong
kind of mill, the wrong kind of smelter,
and the wrong kind of works ; then, to
show how much they didn't know, gave
the management to the Honourable

■•■^H^iiPP"^™

■PWi

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

Augustus Guineapig. At the City offices
there were clerks and flunkeys ; at the
Denver office, managers, clerks, type-
writers, and flunkeys ; at the mine
assayers, experts, managers, clerks, type-
writers, and flunkeys. Moreover, they all
had their horses, their dogs, their guns,
their eye-glasses, and their horse-cloth
overcoats. Every time the assayer sent
home a button of silver there was a
champagne luncheon for the Directors ;
every manager's report went as a puff to
the newspapers, and the official photo-
grapher used to send large groups of the
staff" in their working clothes.

" On 'Change the stock wobbled up
and wobbled down with every letter from
Colorado — why even the head of an elk
sent home by the Honourable Augustus
sent it up three points ; but at last all the
capital was spent, no ore was in sight
worth a cuss, and the shares were hard
to sell in the City at three for a shilling.
That's when I met Lord John Guineapig
in Denver — blue as vitriol — for he'd got
to report to his shareholders that they'd
been sold again, poor suckers, and must
make an assignment.

■1

THE SILVER CHAMBER

" * Look-a-here,' says I, ' have you any
perticular hankering after Liquidation?'

" * What do you mean, sir ? '

" ' Well, sir, seems to me that now
you're in a nasty hole it 'd be superfluous
to wallow around in it. S'pose I take a
hold of your mine and make it pay,
what'll you do for me in ihe way of
shares ? '

"'Oh, I'll leave you our assayer, Mr.
Gneissmann, Mr. Smift' our accountant,
the Honourable Angus '

" 'Take 'm away and bury 'em,' says I,
' them, their lordships, their horses, their
dawgs, their guns, their blawsted eye-
glasses, and their horse-cloth ulsters. I
want your dead mine, but I ain't having
no truck with the long procession of
mourners. I want five thousand down,
absolute power, and a third of the
profits.'

" That's how I became the manager of
the Let Her Go Gallagher Mine.

" Takes a well-educated liar to manage
a mine. Most bosses when they get into
a pay-streak cable home ' Great Bonanza
— immense returns coming ! ' Of course,
the stock goes up flying. Then when the

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

engines bust, or a few men get smashed,
they wire ' Dreadful catastrophe ! ' so that
the shares go down, down, down, till the
bottom drops out. Now when I struck it
rich, I kept my mouth shut till I'd filled
up the safe against a rainy day, then I'd
be able to have all sorts of smash-ups
without their being any the wiser in the
London Market. Not that I did have
much trouble beyond an occasional shoot-
ing scrap on a pay-day. Fact is, my life
was straight bliss save for one thing — and
that was a Britisher. It was Smiff, Lord
Guineapig's old accountant, who knew no
more of mining than a Friburg expert ;
but the creature, having lots of wealth,
had bought the mine next to ours, the
Gallagher's Daddy. Now I ain't pre-
judiced to speak of, but I never had any
use for an English la-di-da son of a lord
in checked pants and gaiters. It hated
me, too, worse than pizen — blast its
cheek ! Not that I wasted my business
hours hating, for I just kept my head
shut unless I could give a chance smack
in the eye to the Gallagher's Daddy.
Well, one night who should come into
my office but a young woman. Pretty as

THE SILVER CHAMBER

a picture she was, all wet and shivering,
but her mouth was — gummy. Cry?
Cried fit to break her little heart. Mr.
Smiff, she said, was a beast — a horrid
little beast. Yes, that's what she said.
Smiff had sent for her all the way from
England as his clerk and typewriter, then
when she showed up at the mine, coolly
informed her that he had since written
countermanding the order — wouldn't take
her in out of the rain ! Mad .'* I'd have
killed the Thing, but that being mid-
summer game was plumb out of season.

" Pretty ? A perfect little witch of a
woman— black hair, black eyes that
snapped, and a thin, oval, winsome sort
of face that bowled me right out. She
had the cunningest, cutest little ways you
ever seen, and a real lady every inch. I
took her right on my books as secretary,
walked her over to the landlady at our
boarding shack, and had a cabin fixed up
regardless. Oh,
clerk, smart as
busy, eager to learn, sharp as a steel-trap
with the books. -She'd take down my
letters in shorthand, whisk them off on a
typewriter, keep the letter-book indexed

but she was a ripping
a stock-broker, always

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

up to the minute, run the postage stamps
— why I got so used to her in a week that
I barely took the trouble to sign what she
wrote, much less see if it was correct.
Fact is, I gave over my heart, the keys of
the safe, and the books ; she ran me, she
ran the office, and if she liked she was
free to run the mine. How she did hate
the Thing — that horrid, nasty Smiff !

" Bit by bit she put me up to the Scheme
— Httle by little she led me on — I just
burning to get quits with the Thing, if
only for her sake. At last she showed
me how I could fairly knock the stuffing
out of the Gallagher's Daddy. You see
he'd struck it rich — lit on to a bonanza
that was the talk of Colorado, the Silver
Chamber they called it — a mass of sul-
phurets and ruby silver big as a church,
running two thousand dollars a ton. It
was right at my end of the ledge, within
a few feet of the end of my third level
drift, which had been rich to the very
edge of my * claim.' * Grab on to it,' said
the sly little puss. * Trouble? Never
fear. If you've got the pluck,' says she,
* I'll supply the brains. Now,' says she,
*I'll go around and begin by squaring

■wppp

^MP

THE SILVER CHAMBER

Smifif's engineer — get around him in a
jiffy — and we'll take such a rise out of old
Smiff that he'll think he's sat down on
dynamite.'

"Of course she twisted me round her
little finger before I'd time to think —
don't suppose I'd have run full tilt at a
whole code of laws in my natural senses.
We bribed Smifif's engineer, who dis-
abled his hoisting gear in such a way
that the mine had to be closed down
while he sent away to Denver for skilled
hands. While Smifif's men were laying
around we bought them up till there
weren't six left on his pay-roll, while I
was making double shifts on the third
east drift. Now both mines were worked
with shafts because there was no slope
around worth tunneling from ; moreover,
they were both wet as Niagara ; so you
see the pumps were about the heaviest
part of the machinery. At that little cat's
instigation I took some carpenters by
night to the Daddy's shaft. Lowering
men with ropes we got three solid
brackets fixed to the timbering, say
forty feet down. Then we lowered a
tank of well-tarred lumber, which fitte4

r PIMP

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

neatly on the brackets, and filled up the
shaft. Finally we put in three feet of
water and stole away. Next morning the
Thing came sauntering down to the
works, and when it looked down the
shaft there was the black water within a
few feet of the top. * Bai Jaove — what a
beastly shame ! ' it wailed, * the mine's all
full of water ! Oh dear ! Come, you men
— you beastly engineer fellah — wig up the
pump ! '

" But the beastly engineer fellah
couldn't wig up the pump because the
said pump was busted. Work? How
we worked ! Double shifts — double time
— Sundays — holidays, hoisting out the
bonanza sulphurets of the Gallagher's
Daddy. The Silver Chamber — why the
name's pigwash to the reality. I never
in all my mining experience saw such a
haul. Think that Smiff fretted? Think
he found out and had deputy-sheriffs
around my ears ? Not a bit of it ; the
Critter went off fishing — yes, sir, fishing,
and was the laughing-stock of Colorado
while I hustled.

" Ye gods, I was the blindest ass ever
born. Never found it out till I'd worked

THE SILVER CHAMHER

the Silver Chamber down to the last ton —
never till the last ounce was consigned to
the Smelting Company down in Denver.
I was down there for a holiday, when I
met the manager of the Great Dinde
Smelting Syndicate, and he greeted me
with a regular horse-laugh —

"*Well, Mr. Philanthropist,' says he,
* how goes it .'"

" ' Philanthropist ! What do you
mean ? '

" * Why, ain't you been working double
shifts for the last three months, and con-
signing every blessed dollar of your bullion
to the credit of the Gallagher's Daddy ? '

" * You're fooling ! ' says I.

" * Well, Fve been thinking it was you
who'd gone locoed — unless you've mort-
gaged body and soul to Mr. Smiff.'

" A light broke in on me. ^ Let's see
the books,' I howled, * and my letters.'

*' Yes, it was the cold paralyzed truth.
Pd been victimized— horribly victimized,
by that little she-cat. While I signed
letters without glancing at them, she'd
written strict orders, from me, that all
bullion was to be credited to Smiff of
the Gallagher's Daddy.

1,1 , ) 1 1 \wiffit^i^imf^

\MfHM\tm9mn)jifp

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

"Whilehewas away fishing, with scarcely
six men to go on his pay-roll, I'd been
working his mine at the expense of my
company, and handing over the whole
proceeds to his bankers. It was a horrible
put-up job. That she-fiend of a secretary
had been sent down by the Critter in re-
venge. She was his wife, newly out from
England — Mrs. Smiff of the Gallagher's
Daddy Mine.

** Can you ask ? Can you torture the
heart-strings of a ruined man? I skipped
the country that night, and the Let Her
Go Gallagher Silver-mining Syndicate
Limited is a busted community."

I >

THE LITTLE FUR SEAL

CONTRIBUTED BY THE CAPTAIN

Being the translation by Ivan Gregorovitch at
Avatcha Bay, of an old letter discovered
with many others in the wreck of the St,
Peter aiid St. Paul. This vessel, cast away
about the year 1807, was found and searched
in 1856 by Captain Kendrick of the brig-
antine Dolly, on his touching at one of the
Aleutian Islands for water.

St. Petr, Kadiak Island, Alaska,
July 10, 1806.

To His Excellency Colonel Alexes
TschirikofT, Governor of Eastern
Siberia, Irkutsk.

Venerable Brother,— In the name
of the saints, send me some brandy. I
languish on salmon and Indians, inhaling
the latter, for, so far, I have been merci-
fully delivered from the necessity of eating
any. They are more suffocating than our
own dear Russians. I pray you salute

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

the Immaculate Ruin, our aunt, or kiss
her for me when you can spare time.
Thus I shall have done my duty, and yet
not suffered.

Oh for the delights of Her Excellency's
ball-room and a clean shirt !

How I envy you the very least of the
perquisites and assumptions of money
that flow into your treasury, pickings
worthy of a Minister of State. But at
least I am solvent, for so long as I can
blow my own trumpet I shall never be
destitute, having Her Excellency, your-
self, and the Immaculate Ruin to borrow
from, and, in default of roubles, I can
repay, as you perceive, in compliments.

Baronoff, as you know, spent last
summer in extending the Company's
operations to a point a thousand miles
or so from here, and about three hundred
miles eastward of Mount St. Elias. I
was with him in the SL Pau/y my present
command, and he had all the natives that
could be mustered, in some three hundred
skin canoes. Most of them, by the way,
were drowned in Icy Bay. We founded
a post in the country of the Sitka tribes,
and called it Neffski Arkangelsk. On

THE LITTLE FUR SEAL

«9

our return westward we left behind some
twenty-three men as garrison, but they
have foolishly allowed themselves to be
done to death somehow ; so we sail in a
few days to massacre the Indians, about
the only amusement there is to look
forward to at present.

Meanwhile I have put in for repairs at
St. Petr ; and, beyond some little diver-
sion, of which it is the purport of this
writing to inform you, I have little to Ju
except play cards with the priest, a "
listen to the oddest lot of legends that
ever came out of a monastery. I don't
suppose that you care ♦^o hear about the
condition of the country and the fur trade,
or I would regale you with an account of
all the hunters drowned, stabbed, or
starved since I last wrote. Nay, I will
not weary you with such commonplace
matters, for it is enough that men like
ourselves, of the first fashion, are con-
demned to be bored all day with the
affairs of the canaille, without letting
them intrude upon our private correspond-
ence. Verily our reverend grandparent de-
served to be exterminated and heavily fined
for his idiotcy in discovering such a country.

I m

THE AUCTIC NIGHT

As a matter of fact, however, I am not
writing to amuse either myself or you,
but to tell you how I managed to quarrel
with Baronoff. As the insolent old fool
has written to Golovnin and others to
have me sent home in disgrace, I want
you to have his paws burnt. How such
a base-born, red-haired, shop-keeping,
bald-headed, shrivelled-up he-beai came
to be Governor of Russian America I
cannot imagine.

Early in June I arrived at Ounalashka,
in the Aleutian Islands, with supplies
from Petropavlovsk ; found the Governor
there, and began to unload. From the
first I heard little else but the charms of
Olga— the Little Fur Seal, they called
her— daughter of a big Aleut chief from
Oumnack. I enterttfcined this old gentle-
man on board the Sf. Paul^ until he grew
mellow with my own particular whisky.
Olga sat in one corner with her big dark
eyes fixed on me, her red lips just a little
parted, and her black hair streaming
down her back : only a savage, ^ut not
among all the Court ladies in Petersburg
could there be found any to surpass her
in beauty. When I thought the chief was

THE LITTLE FUR SEAL

in a sufficiently good humour, I asked
him how many skins he required for his
daughter ; to which he rephed that all
my skins wouldn't buy her, for Baronoff
wanted a wife. Now the Governor has
more skins than I have hairs ; but I have
wisdom, and wisdom is better than many
skins ; so I told him that if he would give
me Olga I would tell him all about every-
thing. You know I picked up ventrilo-
quism at college, so that when the old
man began to deride me, voices were
heard laughing at him from under his
chair, out of the whisky-bottles, in the
beams overhead, and all over the cabin.
He said I was a great doctor, and knew
everything; but how could he give me
Olga. when he had already promised her
to Ivan, a young chief in the village?
Moreover, she was in love with a fourth
party. I told him that I was very wise,
and that I loved Olga.

To make a long story short, I disposed
of the fourth party by giving him an old
cocked hat and a sword, along with the
Degree of Sublime Exaltation in the
Ancient and Mystical Order of Heredi-
tary Gluttons. The initiation was a most

■MM

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

imposing ceremony. I read the ritual
from a big medicine-book, and in token
of the ancient hide-bound traditions of
the Order, encased his head in plaster of
Paris, and painted his nose red. After
marching thrice round the cabin on all-
fours, we concluded the ceremony with
an oath, wherein he was bound to present
himself in person at Irkutsk, and there to
deliver letters-credential to His Excel-
lency the Venerable and Supreme Grand
Master of the Order, who would take him
into his arms, rub noses in token of amity
and joyfulness, and appoint him Minister
of Stolen Goods in the Government of
the province. He sailed in the ship of
my little Dutch friend, Hans Schlitz, and
I hereby commend him to your most
brotherly c?re. As to Ivan, the third
party, I sent him to Baronofif in the dead
of night to ask why he had red hair ; but
instead of having his mind enriched with
the important revelations which were to
have been uttered by the Governor on
hearing this mystical password, my poor
friend had his body decorated with quite
another k'nv: of enrichment, and was
found next morning on the top of an

mmi

THE LITTLE FUR SEAL

inaccessible rock, with one eye and three
fingers missing, and his nose knocked
out cl all recognition. Baronoff is
inclined to be a little playful at times !
The fourth party being placed under
your Excellency's care, and the third
party having been ignominiously rejected
as damaged goods by the Little One, I
had now to compensate her father for the
loss of Baronoff's skins. Wherefore, I
proceeded to instil the most subtle wisdom
into the head of my future father-in-law. I
taught him a little sleight of hand and some
tricks at cards, showed him how to run a
sword through his body by weanr»2" ^
hollow belt of tin, invented for him a
beautiful system of fortune-telling, and
gave him my speaking-trumpet, with
which to bellow at the people through
his big medicine-mask. I showed him the
persuasive effects of phosphorus on the
face at night, and how white people would
turn black if they painted themselves
with nitrate of silver. But the most polite
of all the accomplishments I instilled into
him was ventriloquism — a trick which he
has now raised to the dignity of a fine
art. Sufifice it to say that I qualified that

mm'

•aiR

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

man to become such an intolerable nuis-
ance that he is to-day the recognized terror
of all Alaska, and possesses, as an in-
direct result, more skins than even Baro-
noff could have offered for his daughter.

But, alas for all my virtue and discre-
tion! ! Just as I had won the Little Fur
Seal, for whose sake Baronoff was piling
up his skins in vain, the young Aleut
chief slowly undergoing repairs, and the
fourth party proceeding on his way to rub
noses with your Excellency at Irkutsk,
the old chief came to me, crouched down
on the floor of the cabin, and began to
wail.

I took him by the neck, rattled him,
and ordered him to speak.

" She's gone ! " he moaned — " gone
away in the night ; left her poor old father
all alone ! "

In response, I shook five teeth down
his throat, hiuled him on deck by the
nose, kicked him overboard, and went to
Baronoff. Our sorrows had made us
brethren, and we wept. We were samp-
ling a small keg of brandy, to assuage our
anguish, when in came Ivan, with his
nose bandaged up, to mourn with us.

THE LITTLE FUR SEAL

We gave him some of the brandy, in
proof of our sympathy, and as we sat
together, mingling tears with our spirits,
a little boy entered and laughed at us.
He said Olga was his sister, and had
whispered to him last night, before she
went away, that any one wJio wanted
Fur Seal would have to hunt. She said
also that she was going to St. Petr, on
Kadiak Island, but bade him tell no one
of the fact, particularly Captain Tschirikoff.

Baronofif rose from his chair with a
most absurd assumption of dignity, and
said : —

" Captain Tschirikoff, you will at once
beach the .S7. Paul for repairs in the east
cove, and superintend the work in person.
Ivan, you will report to me at nine o'clock
this evening, and receive dispatches for
Attoo Island. Boy, consider yourself
entered on the books of the company as
my body-servant, and be ready by to-
morrow morning to go with me to Kadiak
Island."

Dismissing Ivan and the boy, I told
Baronoff that I intended to beach my
ship for repairs, not here, but at St. Petr,
Where there were greater facilities. He

T'HE ARCtlC NiGHf

at once ordered me under arrest. I
replied that I was not accustomed to
indignities at the hands of a tradesman ;
that as a naval officer I was responsible
to no civilian, and only refrained from
challenging him because he was not a
gentleman. Leaving him speechless with
rage, I boarded my vessel, slipped and
buoyed my cable, and s(]uared away for
Kadiak Island.

A Russian does not sleep when he is
out wife-hunting, and you have only to
hold in remembrance the black eyes of
my Little Fur Seal to realize that I was
not many days in reaching her hiding-
place. I landed at St. Petr with my
whole larboard watch, and proceeded to
search the village. Just as one of my
men entered a house he called to me, but
I reached the front door only in time to
see a skirt flutter out at the back. Giving
chase, I had the Little Fur Seal safe in
my arms within a hundred yards of the
house. We have hunted bears together,
oh ! my brother, and faced them when
they were defending their cubs ; but a
she-bear in the spring is a lamb com-
pared to Olga. She scratched, bit, kicked,

THE LITTLE FUR SEAL

screamed ; she tried to plunge a long
knife into me, and when I took that from
her, clutched at my hair. Wherefore, I
beseech you to send for a wig to Peters-
burg—just a little wig, with a becoming
queue, in the latest make, in size about
the same as your own. Have this con-
signed to me, care of Captain Schlitz, at
Pctropavlovsk.

When I got her down to the boat the
Little One began to sulk ; and, except
for some scratching and struggling as we
were getting her over the ship's side, she
sulked on consistently till supper-time. I
felt like a brute as, after a solitary meal
in the cabin, I smoked a pipe before turn-
ing in. I was conscious all the time of
the glare of her black eyes. Whenever I
tried to make friends, they flashed upon
me like twin stars ; while once in my
bunk, I had an uncomfortable presenti-
ment that, finding me asleep presently,
she would cut me ofT in the flower of my
youth with a big butcher's knife. But
reflecting that it is much wiser to sleep
than to remain awake imagining vain
things, and greatly solaced by the memory

TT^^

THE. ARCTIC NIGHT

of having seen old BaronofTs vessel beat-
ing her way up the harbour, I partly closed
my eyes and dozed a little.

As luck would have it, I was just suffi-
ciently awake to note that the Little One,
believing me to be asleep, was stirring.
I snored comfortably, and, unsuspected
by her, watched every movement. Silently
she rose to her feet. How pretty she
looked as she stood in the faint glow of
the candle-light, and then moved slowly
towards me almost imperceptibly, and as
softly as a panther ! Picture to yourself,
Alexes, the geiitle swaying of her limbs,
the tangled mass of shadowy hair, the
brilliant eyes, the full red lips. Outside
I could hear BaronofPs crew taking in
sail and letting go the anchor. I thought
also, with a strange sense of pleasure, of
Ivan stealing slowly along the coast in
his canoe towards us. Then, Alexes, con-
ceive my delight as I saw her creep past
the chest upon which lay the knife with-
out even stretching out her hand toward
it. A moment later I felt that she was
bending over me ; her breath played upon
my face, her lips drew closer and closer,

THE LITTLE FUR SEAL

until at last they rested upon my cheek,
leaving there the imprint of the sweetest,
small, round kiss that ever sent a thrill of
joy to the heart of man.

The Little Fur Seal was mine !

Your affectionate brother,

NiCHOLAL

THE ARREST OF DEERFOOT

TOLD BY BILLY

I'm only a Blackfoot squaw, Major,
and you're a chief of the Mounted
PoHce ; but the little voice of Truth
lives in my mouth and it shall be heard.
I alone know the story ; so what's the
good of your trial unless I talk? And
don't let me catch this new interpreter
telling lies out of my mouth.

Major, your prisoner there is as inno-
cent as a prairie-dog. Be still, Beef
Hardy ; I will be heard, in spite of you !
Look at him, Major ; big Beef Hardy,
your Mounted Police scout and interpre-
ter — the handsomest white man on the
Plains — he swears to you that he killed
Dried Meat, my husband. I tell you
that he lies ! I say, in the presence of
the Big Spirit, I, and I alone, killed
Dried Meat ! Come, I am yours : take

THE ARREST OF DEERFOOT

me — kill me ! I deserve to die ; but that
man shall go free !

Dried Meat bought me for his wife last
year. My father told me that he was
very wise, waited for in council, the best
scholar at the Agency — yes, like a paper
book full of black marks. I can't read :
and, oh, how I hated him !

He sat in the lodge all day and gave
orders : his very presence more than I
could bear; his voice rasping my ears
like a file ; and his sneer made me want
his blood. Not for days and weeks, but
for years, he was to be my master ; not
wearing oft' like a sickness, or killing mc
like the plague, but always there in the
tent, making my little life as bitter as
frozen berries, till my hour of death.
He'd no more soul than a stretched skin ;
no tears, no laughter. He would not
love me, nor could I fight with him. He
didn't care for me so much as the dogs he
beat, the colts he broke, the stones he
threw at the crows. Can a woman bear
that? Oh, I would rather have been
chained to the dead ! — I — I, who loved —
another man !

He had one virtue : he could run. No

THF ARCTIC NIGHT

pony could beat him in a fair race. They
called him Deerfoot, after our great
Indian runner. He used to keep a paper
in the tepee— a printed paper, many
moons old — to sa- ' it Deerfoot was to
race with a white inan in the Calgary
Rink. He was proud of being called
after him, especially as both had Dried
Meat for their birth-name ; and — set my
words down on a white skin with ink —
they were sometimes mistaken for one
another. My master had been taken for
the great hero : for him who, on the Iron
Trail, stood off three Mounted i^olicemen
with an axe ; for ' nn whose hands are
red, so t'lat the G *nment offers great
money for his body , for him who stands
alone in all the world and defies the
white man's might !

I was travelling last week with Dried
Meat. We were taking a band of colts
from our Blackfoot Agency to the Blood
Reserve. You know Willow Creek, Major
— the little coulee where Wade-the-
Coward keeps a trading store. It was
there we camped on the flat by the Creek
where the wind had whisked away the
snow and left grass for pasture. There

THE ARREST OF DEERFOOT

was nothing to eat all night ; there'd
been nothing to eat all day, and we were
hungry. Perhaps our hearts had grown
evil for the want of food. I had a little
dog, Major — ^just a wee scrap of a thing
that whisked about the camp and loved
me. That day a horse had kicked him
and he was lame. Poor little trembling,
crying thing ! gazing into my face, licking
my cheek, trying to bear the pain. Dried
Meat found me in the tent ; and in his
cold, calm, scornful way said : " Here,
squaw, cook that little brute for my sup-
per : don't you sec I'm famishing.'*''

My tongue was stiff with anger. I
could not speak ; I had not time to carry
my pet away. His knife struck straight
into its throbbing heart ; its life-blood
fouled my dress ; and before I could get
at Dried Meat's throat, I was alone. It
lay in my arms dead — the one creature I
cared for in the world ; and there in the
dusk I swore by the Big Ghost above :
Blow for blow — blood for blood — life for
life!

A minute before I'd seen from Wade's
corral a horse tied to the door of the
trading house. I had noticed the brand,

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

the clipped tail, the big saddle : it was a
horse of the Mounted Police. The owner
of that animal must know of the search
for Deerfoot, and of the great money
offered for his capture. My master had
sometimes been mistaken for the Black-
foot hero. I took his running shoes and
wrapped them in the old printed paper
which is all about Deerfoot. What if I
took them so wrapped and sold them to
Wade for food — would not the soldier see ?
Suppose my master resisted arrest and
were shot !

I stole out of the tepee and found that
Dried Meat was away among the horses.
I crept to Wade's door unseen, knocked,
was let in. Major, the owner of the horse
was not the red-coat I expected ; he was
not one of the Police, but big Beef Hardy,
the interpreter — your prisoner !

I tried to run away, but Wade held me.
I screamed and struggled to escape.
Major, I wanted to be saved from my
master, but not by this man — not by Beef
Hardy. Do you think Pd give him the
chance.'* No; I — I hate him! I hate
him to tlie death, because — I hate him !
Why do I ? What's that got to do with

THE ARREST OF DEERFOOT 45

it, Major ? If you don't like my witness
talk, say so, and I'll go.

I wouldn't speak : they couldn't make
me speak. Beef asked me why I had
Deerfoot's shoes ; how I got Deerfoot's
paper ; if I was Deerfoot's wife ? " No,"
I told him, " I'm not his wife. My man
is Dried Meat," I said ; "a young Piegan
brave, camped on the flat by the corral."

Hardy looked into my eyes. He knows
me ; he believes all my words, and let me
go like a man. Then I saw Wade-the-
Coward sneer at him for being taken in ;
and I heard Wade-the-Coward say that
Dried Meat is Deerfoot's birth-name —
that the little squaw had lied.

I never slept that night ; I never spoke
to Dried Meat, and I ate nothing. Beef
would not try to arrest him before day-
light ; for no living man would attempt
to take the great Deerfoot in the dark.
At dawn my master awakened ; ordered
me to take down the tepee, and ran out
to gather his horses for the march. At
that instant a voice rang out in the cold
air—" Halt ! " I looked out of the tent,
and found Beef Hardy and Wade coming
from the house. Both had rifles, but

4/" W,/' »•*»"*«

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

Beef was in cowboy clothes ; and there
was nothing in the look of the men to
make Dried Meat think of the police.
He seemed surprised, and went up to find
out what was wanted.

I saw Beef take something from a
paper packet. Now I know that this
was Deerfoot's picture ; but the two men
are so like that this seemed only one
more fact against my master. Beef said
nothing, wondering, I thought, that Deer-
foot should be so careless about meeting
white men ; and while he hesitated, Dried
Meat, thinking to show off his famous
running before the strangers, set off to
round up his herd. His feet seemed to
leave no mark on the crisp snow ; he ran
like a young antelope, and no mounted
cowboy could have been quicker in
gathering a band of horses. He came
back trotting behind the colts ; and then,
blushing and smirking with conceit, went
back to hear his skill praised by the white
men. The name Dried Meat, the shoes,
the printed paper, had been bad against
him — but the running settled all doubt.
Beef laid his hand on my master's
shoulder.

THE ARREST OF DEERFOOT

*' Are you Deerfoot ? " he said.

Dried Meat smiled at the pretty com-
pliment, and answered ** Yes."

Beef held tight, Wade covered him
with his rifle ; and the three moved away
towards the house. I began to fear that
Dried Meat would submit to the arrest
like a coward ; but I suppose he didn't
understand at first what had happened.
The moment he saw the police horse in
the corral he knew all. With a sudden
twisting wrench, he slid from the white
man's grasp, left the blanket in his hand,
and, naked, came down like a deer
towards the camp.

" Quick, squaw, my rifle ! " he yelled,
as he neared the tent. The evil was in
my heart, the gun was in my hand.
There were cartridges, and as I ran I
made pretence of pumping them into the
magazine. He snatched the empty rifle
from my hand, took Willow Creek with a
bound, and in an instant was on top of
the cut bank, and behind a fallen tree.

Beef Hardy and the Coward came blun-
dering after him, then stood on the bank
in the smoke of their empty revolvers,
looking up at Dried Meat's ambush with

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

the frozen creek between. The cut bank
was steep and of frozen gravel ; the rifle
was like a little blue eye looking over the
log, they could hear the clicking trigger,
and expected death.

Wade took aim with his Winchester
and shouted, " I'll finish the brute from
here ! " But Beef turned, looked straight
at the Coward and said, " Down with that
gun." The giant, the beautiful white
giant, stood waiting there for his death ;
and the Coward sneaked away. Beef
Hardy looked straight into the rifle's eye,
and never flinched — I tell you I saw him
charge straight up the bank believing
that Deerfoot's first shot would strike
him down. There might be a charge
in that rifle— a cartridge I'd left by mis-
take — my hero was in danger ; I nearly
died of fear.

I heard the click of my master's empty
gun, saw him leap to his feet, and knew
that he was praying to the Great Ghost
for help. Beef Hardy had stumbled on
the frozen gravel and was scrambling
helplessly up the bank. The rifle
barrel flashed in Dried Meat's hands, the
butt swung round his head— and he

THE ARREST OF DEER FOOT 49

waited, flourishing the weapon, till the
white man's head should come within his
reu.Cii.

I dared not see, my eyes seemed blinded,
my brain was reeling — then — then it was
all clear ! I stole behind Wade-the-
Coward, I sprang, I struck him down
with an axe ! I lifted Wade's rifle as
Dried Meat prepared to strike ; but still
Beef Hardy was scrambling on the stones
and did not see. Wade's weapon was in
my hands, alive in my clutch — it pointed
at Dried Meat's head— and dashed his
eyes with blood ! He leaped in the air,
and floundered — and fell — but my hero
was saved alive !

What have I said? Major, I lied!
Didn't I tell you I hate this Mounted
Police scout to the death ?

Hands off. Beef Hardy ! Hands off, I
say, or I'll kill you ! What — you will !
Of course I did — of course I saved you
from the brute— my hero ! My master !
My love !

■r'Jf ■"■'■Hf'A.M

■»•

I I
I ■

THE BURIED TREASURE

• TOLD BY THE STRANGER

" What ! " cried the Stranger ; " you
don't believe in buried treasure? Wall,
I swar ! Ain't such things ? Cost more
to find than they're worth? Why, the
greatest stake I ever played was for
buried treasure.

** Where shall I begin, now — let's see.
Wall, I was in love — right in up to the
neck. She was a nurse in the hospital ;
I was a useless orphan gump, with a
thousand a year of my own. Says Alick,

* I'm a pro in this here hospital, earning
twenty dollars a year. What are you ? '

* Three saloons,' says I — * livery stable,
and mortgage on the First Baptist
Church.' 'What d'ye do?' says she.
*Hang around,' says I. *Then don't
hang around me,' says she. Tell you
that was a sickener. However, I tried

i .'

THE BURIED Treasure

again the next year. Says Alick, * I'm a
staff nurse in this here hospital and boss
of the surgical ward. What are you ? '
*I love you,' says I. 'Well/ says she,
* staff nurses ain't to be had at the price.
Sheer off ; go and do something.' I just
went around back streets, and kicked
myself home.

"That night I was packing up to go
West, when I came across a sheaf of Pa's
old letters, and began to bum 'em one at
a time in the stove. Presently I lit on a
document writ by my grandmother, Sa-
phira Burns, * being a narrative dictated
by my husband, Zachariah P. Burns, of
Millstoneville, Connecticut, a retired
pirate, late deceased, having been run
over and killed by an omnibus in New
York, and lyeth in Greenwood Cemetery,
for which the said omnibus company
disclaimeth liability, having been in-
toxicated, and now waiteth in confident
expectance of a glorious hereafter. Given
under my hand.'

" Well, you bet, I pricked up my ears
'specially when I seen that the whole
bloomin' yarn was about a buried
treasure. Grandpa Zachariah must have

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

been a double-barrelled terror. Why, at
nineteen, being third mate of a whaler,
he mutinied, made his own cousin by
marriage. Captain Eliphalet W. Siiggs,
walk the plank, swore in the crew over a
Russian almanack and a bloody dagger,
hoisted the black flag, and started up in
businesss as a buccaneer. At first he
scuttled coasters in a small way along the
Chilanean coast ; afterwards, when he
had lost his ship on the Gallipagoes, took
to annexing whalers when they put in for
water. Altogether, what with marooning,
ransoms, and deep-sea captures, he was
making a pretty good stake, when, as luck
would have it, trade slackened, money
got tight, dividends down to nothing — in
short, the crew got up on their ear and
mutinied.

"When the ringleaders found Zach, he
was sitting in the middle of the cabin on
a barrel of gunpowder, armed with dozens
of pistols. They told him to come down
off that barrel.

**' rU be hanged if I do,' says Zach.

" * That's so,' said the ringleader, who
was a truthful man.

" * Now,' says Zach, * I'm bossing this

THE BURIED TREASURE

show. You're going to head her for
Panama — nor-nor-east-b-east — and if you
ain't dropped anchor by seven bells of
the morning watch, I'll blow her up, by
George, and this time to-morrow you'll
be arranging for your lodgings down
below ! '

" With a compass in the beams over-
head, water and food within reach, why
he'd got the dead immortal cinch on the
whole outfit ! The crew chuckled on
deck, thinking how they'd carve up Zach
when he started for to go ashore ; and
Zachariah chuckled in the cabin, for
when they anchored at Panama Bay he
wouldn't quit his barrel unless the new
Captain wr^s given up to him as hostage,
till such time as he reached the dry land.

" With a pistol in each of the leader's
ears he marched upon deck, and went
down into the boat. While all the crew
hung gaping over the bulwarks, while a
slow match fizzed in the cabin, Zachariah
P. Burns went safely ashore with his
hostage. Yes, there he stood on the
beach till the new Captain went back
aboard ; he saw him welcomed by the
crew on deck, he saw the boat hauled

7'«.\.r

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

up then bang went the ship, and for

some minutes the air was plumb full of
hurtling scraps of pirate.. Zachariah re-
membered that he was a Connecticut man,
and felt quite pleased with Connecticut.

" Ever hear of Lafitte — the Pirate of
the Gulf? No? Then you'd oughter.
Zach found him at Colon, anyway, out-
fitting for the fall trade ; joined on,
shipped as his second mate ; and I ' tell
you they made things hum in the Mexi-
can Gulf ! Business was booming ; why
they got so proud that when they spent a
Sunday afternoon shark-fishing, nothing
would satisfy 'em for bait but live Jesuit
missionaries ! Mind you, Lafitte was
dead nuts on theology — listen by the hour
to any sky pilot as happened along — but
as he said, ^ Romans is pizen ! '

" Well, during the war of 1812, old man
Zachariah must needs fall out with Lafitte.
British General — Pakenham his name was
— wanted the Captain to come along and
help capture New Orleans. Zach's eyes
fairly glittered when he thought of all the
loot.

" * It's a great scheme ! ' says he.

" * Won't work, Zach,' says Lafitte, * th^

THE BURIED TREASURE

bloomin' Britisher's jolly well going to get
licked. I'm going to turn patriot and
help give him beans. I'm after a free
pardon from the Yanks — you bet.'

" 'Patriotism be blowed ! ' says Zacha-
riah.

" On the way to New Orleans they had
to put in for water at the Bayou Teche.
Soon as they dropped anchor, and the
people were away with the water breakers,
Captain Lafitte calls away the jolly-boat
and starts out with Zachariah and two
ordinary seamen on a little picnic. After
some miles they pulled over to an island,
where they spent the whole night landing
a thundering big iron chest full of gold
and jewels. Enough to make your mouth
water. Chalices and crucibles, patens
without end, snufif-boxes, chains of rolled
gold, with eighteen-carat fixings, earrings,
necklets, tararas, dimonds, candlesticks —
and — etc. Buried it in the beach — yes, of
course above high-water mark, smoothed
the place over, and murdered the ordinary
seamen — which had been selected as the
two most useless men aboard.

" * Now,' says Lafitte, * we can go on to
New Orleans with a clear conscience,'

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

** Next morning when they were about
a mile or so at sea, the Captain sent
Zachariah aloft to do some kind of mon-
key business with the fore-royal yard-arm.
When Zach got to the place, he found the
foot-rope cut neatly away at the outer end
till it hung by a thread. * I see,* says
Zachariah.

" Now you must understand that they
were in a shallow bay, about a mile and
a half out, a big eddy swirling along-shore.
While Zach was taking it all in, the Cap-
tain sung out :

** * You goin' to stay there all day ?
Why don't you get a hump on, you darned
old wreck of a purser's pig — you brass-
mounted, brazen - headed jackass —
you— I—!—!'

" * Ay, ay, keep your shirt on, governor ! '
So saying Zach stepped on the foot-rope.

"*Man overboard !' yelled the Captain.
Zach came down with an awful shriek in
the water.

" The sly old fox ! While Lafitte lay-
to lowering away the boats, Zachariah let
himself float gently with the '^urrent till
they could barely ? ' j he was.

Then, kicking

.-L

Ls, he sud-

THE BURIED TREASURE

denly let out a piercing yell, waved his
arms like a windmill, and sank. He was
never seen again from the pirate ship.

" Drowned ? Drowned nothin' ! He
was simply swimming under water,
putting up his nose when he needed a
sniff of air. In half-an-hour he landed at
the point of the bay, hauled ashore like a
seal, and hung himself out to dry. Lafitte
had called in the boats and squared away
for New Orleans.

'* * Nothing like trusting your friends,'
says Zachariah.

" Dig up the treasure ? No ; went
straight to Mobile, Alabama. There,
while he was hiring a sloop to carry the
spoil away, the old man must needs fall
in love. The lady was young, pretty,
widow, four hundred a year — married
within a month, and off to New York for
the honeymoon.

" Happily ever after ? No, he was run
over and killed by an omnibus.

" No omnibuses there ? Sir ! Well,
tell the story yourself ! Then shut up !
There — gone — slams the door, of course
— and a good riddance.

** Lafitte ? Ran the Britishers out of

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

New Orleans — free pardon from Legis-
lature and a vote of thanks — got religion,
and went into the slave trade.

*' Treasure ? Now if it had been pork
and molasses, I guess — well, he'd have
done well in the corner* grocery line ; but
diamonds and jewels — no. I guess,
stranger, that down in Louisiana swamps
they're hungering more after religion and
quinine than any earthly gauds.

" Dead and gone this long time ? Yes.
Lafitte lived at his island years and years.
Nights he used to go down with a spade
and lantern, dig up the treasure, gloat
awhile, say his prayers to it, and bury it
in again. Never fed himself — couldn't
afford it. They say he died of want.

" But his ghost keeps up the old regular
habits. Yes, sir, every night Lafitte
comes down the beach — tall, thin, clammy,
with lantern and shovel — to dig there for
hours in the sand. You don't believe?
Wall, now I do, for I've seen him !

"Yes, you're right. I took Grandma
Saphira's document, Zachariah's map, the
proceeds of my three saloons, mortgage,
and livery stable, and started out within a
W^ek for Louisiana. Not that I believed

THE BURIED TREASURE 59

in the treasure. No, but with a broken
heart one must hustle around and do
something, or there's danger of whatd'ye-
callum setting in. So at Mobile, Ala-
bama, I chartered a sloop and started out
with two hired mien, fishing. Yes, camped
on an island near the Bayou Teche, and
fished. Talk— talk— talk. I thought
those two idiots would never quit jawing.
Why, it was nearly midnight before they
curled up in their blankets. At last they
talked themselves to sleep. My chance
was come. I stole away, crossed the
island, then followed along the shore till
I found my bearings. Dark as a coyote's
throat, I could just make out the two
rocks up by the timber, when suddenly
the moon broke out, and, as I live, there
was a man — a tall, dark man — with a
lantern and spade digging.

" My teeth rattled. I was perspiring
like a pitcher of iced lemonade. I was
gone in the knees, something horrible
crawling down my back. For there he
was, with a face like a death's-head and
bony hands digging away in the sand, as
though he'd never come to the bottom.
At last he struck the chest. I could hear

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

the cling of his shovel on the lid. He
heaved up the top, rummaged around,
took something out, which he wrapped in
what looked like a shroud. Then the
great lid came down with a clang. I
could stand no more, but lit out along the
beach like all possessed, and crawled back,
limp as a rag, to camp.

"Next day I let my men into the
secret, for I was ready to share up now,
if only for the sake of human company.
Moike said :

" * It's all my oi. Oi'm an American
citizen. Can't take me in wid ghosts av
ould wives' tales, begorra ! '

" As to Hans, he'd have no truck mit
der teufel aind it. Nod much — no.

" Howbeit, for five hundred dollars
apiece they helped me out, seeing that
I was a friend. We waited till eleven
o'clock, liquored up, and crossed over to
the place. Yes, there he was, digging,
just as I'd seen before. We watched him
open the chest and take something out.
Again the great heavy top of the chest
came down with a clang. Then we waited
till the sand was filled in, and the ghost
stole back to the woods. * Now,' says I,

THE BURIED TREASURE

* is all this granny's tales ? ' There wasn't
a word from the Irishman, for he'd
skipped the country ; but the Dutchman
lay grovelling. * Der teufel ! ' he yelled,

* dake me home.'

" I couldn't stand it. The whole thing
was a regular swindle. This treasure —
mine by rights — was being stolen away
piecemeal night after night by a pirate's
ghost. I dragged the Dutchman up,
shook him, and filled him with whisky.
We came down out of the woods with a
whoop and a yell ; we dug up the sand
with our nails ; we lifted the heavy chest
out of its hole, and had started to drag it
away, when a voice rang out of the woods
that knocked me cold :

" * Say, there, what in thunder and
blazes are you doing with my meat-safe .'*
Can't a man bury his food away from a
tropical sun without being plundered by
white trash ? Hands up, you all-fired
idiots, or I'll shoot ! ' »

'«^^-■^,^•tJi's*;v«.^^^f^'J^!;5«IP!lpw " <•!,■

THE END OF THE WORLD

TOLD BY JIM BALLANTYNE

A MiLLERlTE saint was prophesying,
with half the farmers of our section
gathered around him, in Old Man Johnson's
barn ; the street was full of women pray-
ing and crying ; the storekeepers were
putting up their shutters ; the kids had
all broken away from the school ma'am
to hide their poor little bodies in the
woods. Yes, the whole town was crazy
with religion and hysterics except down
around Jim Dogpole's smithy, where a
score '>f men lounged against the hitch-
ing posts chewing tobacco, while they
swore vengeance agin the fanatics who'd
gotten up all the fuss. As to that woman,
my Step-ma, she was something awful
to look at, standing on a buggy right up
by the 'Piscopal Church, with her arms
going around like a mill, and her sallow

w w»7*!'"*www!'''i!"''^'^ V';-!'- v^^mm-i

THE END OF THE WORLD

homely face flecked with the foam from
her mouth as she prophesied. Her hair
was down, her dress draggled with mud,
her eyes glaring blue fury !

" Repent ! " screamed Seraphina — " re-
pent ! " I could hear her yelling all the
way up from Jim Dogpole's. "Repent,
while there is yet time, for the Judgment
is at hand, the Eleventh Hour is come —
and woe unto them as haven't joined the
Church I Woe ! Woe to the inhabitants
of the Earth ! Get out your robes, all ye
Elect — prepare I tell ye — make ready yer
hearts — Prepare ! "

Scared almost to death, I came up to
poor Dad, and gripped on to his hands
for the comfort of touching him.

Now I ain't partial to blasphemy, and
there are things which Step-ma said that
I'd blush to repeat. Many a better man
than me has lost his Faith through
mountebank prophets such as Seraphina ;
but at that time I believed all I was told,
took that woman's bogies for gospel truth,
and had gotten half-crazed with fright.

So Dad drew me in under shelter of
his overcoat ; then, thinking nobody was
taking notice, he gave me a great kiss

mil

g*' p

^Trr^T 1^'' '^'-X*:'^

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

■ f-

which sent him blushing I guess, and me
whimpering. " Cheer up, Sam," he whis-
pered, "keep a stiff upper lip until the
end, for the world can't last much longer."

Step-ma was prophesying again, her
voice all broke up from long shrieking ;
but with Dad's coat for warmth and his
arm around me, I didn't care how soon
we went to Judgment.

" Prepare ! I tell ye, prepare ! for the
very day is come. The End of all things,
right on time according to prophecy !
The Last Judgment is due this year, this
month, this week, at three o'clock to-
morrow morning sharp ! The Last Vigil
begins at 8.15 this eve ! Beware — beware
lest you be found in slumber when the
trumpet sounds ! "

I heard her let out a great deep groan,
I saw her sway from side to side with her
eyes like glass, then fall headlong from
the buggy in an epileptic fit. It was
only the usual thing when she got ex^cited ;
so Dad and I just got the neighbours to
help to take her over to our house, where
we laid her on the parlour sofa and let
her be. They stole away scared at her
awful straight blank stare, her bands

m^^

THE END OF THE WORLD

lifted stiff and rigid clutching at nothing,
her thin lips drawn apart showing the
teeth ; so we were left alone with her in
the room — to watch. Poor Father didn't
seem to care — or I very much, because
you see three years had made us used to
that awful woman. He flung open the
windows to let in the rain and wind rather
than be shut up with Step-ma ; but pre-
sently settled down to light his corncob,
as usual, with me on his knees.

"Dad," says I, "weren't you plumb
crazy to marry a prophetess like her?
She's killing us — ain't she ? "

"Like enough," he muttered, "but
keep your mouth shut, old man. You
see she may be shamming, and we
wouldn't like to hurt her feelings, would

we, Sam ? "

He stroked my head with his big brown
hands, and tickled me as I snuggled up
closer to him. I asked if I hadn't ought
to watch by her till she woke.

" Yes, laddie, keep an eye on her yon-
der while I get a whifif or two here by the
window. Seems like days since I had a
smoke." I went over to watch.

Presently he turns round out of the

iij ■ r-«.T^;fr-«^)^-,

fw^'mmimimf

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

draught. " Sam," he called, in a sort of
stage whisper, "what do they say now
down at Dogpoles' ? "

"They 'low that if this Judgment busi-
ness is facts, she's booked for the hottest
corner," I sniggered, and so did he.
" But, Dad, I heard them arguing that if
it ain't proved true by to-morrow morn-
ing, they'll — say, what do they mean by a
necktie social ? "

He turned white as a sheet, but said
never a word. The clock was ticking
loud on the kitchen wall, the night was
closing in blacker and blacker, the rain
was sousing down in the empty street.
Somehow Dad never thought about sup-
per There was nothing in the house
anyway, because Seraphina had made out
we'd sup in Paradise. She'd made Dad
give away his down-east home, the stock,
the furniture, and half his tools — for you
see he was a carpenter by trade. My
clothes had gone too and most of his, as
a sign, she said, of Faith ; but mercifully
there was a little property locked up in
trust for me, which Dad had never spoken
about since his second marriage.

Here in the hired house there was no

IRPii jinmip^,^.^\' > ',

■ ■i«i^^vi^v<pi^i*mi|f!i;i^Hiiq||pa«m*wipii^ifip[i««i||

THE END OF THE WORLD

food left, or a nickel to spend on bread ;
so Dad sat still in the open window,
while I stood shaking with cold, listening
to the bubbling of his pipe till it went
out. After that there wasn't even the red
coal of 'baccy for company, but I daresn't
turn round because of those awful hands
gripping the air ; and, now that it was
dark, I could see nothing but the white
of Dad's tucked-up apron as he sat by
the window. Somehow at last I got to
imagine that the white streak wasn't
Dad's apron, but something else lying
around in the window-seat ; that Dad
wasn't there at all ; that I was all alone,
alone with that woman, and the clock
that had only eight hours left to tick
before the End of the World ! I was only
a little nipper ten years old : I was
frightened there in the dark with the
Day of Judgment drawing on minute
by minute. " Father ! " I screamed-^
" Father ! » *

At that the woman woke up with a
start, and I shrank away into a corner,
as she went staggering across the room
towards the table. She struck a match,
which she held up above her head, peering

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

round with her wicked eyes into the
darkness, where I crouched down hidden
in a corner ; and Dad was sitting by the
window fast asleep.

" Awake ! " she screamed, " awake out
of sleep, for now — where's your robes ?
Where's your white robes ? " She shook
Dad until he stood up broad awake,
staring at the red end of the match that
had dropped to the floor. " Your robes
— on with your robes, if you want to
escape the Doom."

She wouldn't hear of eating anything,
but raved at us because we hunted around
with a lamp for some crusts of bread.
" Shake off your vile lusts," she shrieked,
as she threw a white bed-sheet over her
dress. " On ! On ! Forwards to the
place appointed — for the time is come ! "

So we marched in draggled sheets,
bare-headed and carrying lanterns, with
the mud splashing up to our knees,
marched through the howling night at
the head of a procession of women and
kids, following Seraphina to the Circus-
pitch, there to await the blast of the
Archangel's Trumpet.

Prayer-meetings went on all night with

"^Pl

THE END OF THE WORLD

never so much as a camp-fire to cheer us,
the whole crowd groaning and shivering
in the rain, while half the men in the
country-side hung around on the fence-
rails jeering. It was a fearful night ;
with the pelting showers of rain, the
swirling wind, and nothing but the silence
of the fields about us, when at last the
wicked got through blaspheming and
went home to bed.

But it was worst of all after the clock
struck two, for the whole crowd had gone
into screeching hysterics ; while the
leaders roared out hymns, the children
screamed with fright in the wind and
darkness. There was a psalm at a quar-
ter-past ; a frantic hymn at the half-hour ;
at the quarter-to, the whole lot of us went
down on our knees in the mud, waiting
in horrified silence. It was then that
dear old Dad drew me close to him with
a great hug, and gave me a biscuit that
he must have begged from some neigh-'
bour.

The biscuit was soggy with rain, be-
sides the salt tears that dropped on it,
giving it a queer sort of taste ; but it was
like a whole banquet to n^e, with Dad

WK^flfWWV

M^ ■ |ii"^iWTP|?'W«"HIP

rwy^

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

whispering in my ear about the good
times he and I had enjoyed together
away fishing on Sundays, or chivying
squirrels in the woods when Step-ma was
out preaching about the Judgment. I
was still chewing the biscuit and crying a
little in Dad's arms when we heard the
town clock strike three.

Seraphina let out a wild shriek ; " The
time has come ! " Then we waited
breathless, while the wind roared and the
rain pelted down for a full hour but
nothing happened ! *

Can you wonder at the men-folk being
mad ? The poor limp women crawled
away coughing and crying to their homes,
the little brats went back starving to find
the stoves black out, the very blankets
given away from their beds. Can you
wonder that the men-folk wanted venge-
ance upon the maniacs who had led us
astray ?

What with hunger and cold, it was
cocklight by the time I dropped off to
sleep ; not to rest — bless you, no — for I
dreamed of the Last Judgment, with a
body-guard of little black goats, to fork
me into the Pit— the same being like the

■'wppp?i5r*"iaiFi»r^iii'«^fpp'

w^m

mmmm

THE END OF THE WORLD

parquette of a theatre, full of rain, mud,
wind, hymns, and flames. I woke up
with a scream to find it broad daylight,
with a slippery black frost on the ground
outside ; and I got up in a hurry because
of the horrible smell from the lamp, which
had burnt itself out during the night.
While I was trying to clear the ice out
of my wash-basin I heard a queer sound
down the street, a sound of something
shuffling and slithering in the distance,
that came nearer and nearer, until it
seemed to be mixed with a buzz of talk
calling and answering, the throwing open
of windows, knocking at doors, barking
of dogs — there was nothing asleep in the
whole town except our house. Rushing
to the window I saw a crowd of men
sweeping round the corner out of the
main street, a great black mass of people
with guns and axes gleaming among
them, and there was a low sound coming
up out of the twilight like bloodhounds
baying. Then I saw Jim Dogpole at the
front of the crowd, swinging a black-
smith's sledge above his head, calling the
people on, pointing up at my window, as
be broke into a shuffling run over the

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

glassy pavement, with the whole mob
surging behind him.

" Hurry up ! " he yelled, " get a move
on, or they'll take the alarm. Come on,
you beggars — they're awake ! "

By this time Dad was astir in the room
below, calling to me ; so, tumbling down
the stairs, I jumped in to help him. He
was piling the harmonium, bureau, and
stove against the front door, then jam-
ming mattresses mto the parlour window
with chairs behind. For a moment I
looked round to laugh at Step-m.i howling
with fright in the kitchen ; but Dad
ordered me to get down the gin and load
his revolver, while he added the cooking
stove to his barricades.

Meanwhile the mob was ranging up
for action outside. " Come out ! " they
were yelling. *' Where's that she-fiend ?
Trot out your Scraphina to ride the rail !
Tar and feathers ! Kept our women out
in the storm all night ! Lynch her ! Burn
her ! Bring her out ! "

Dad hauled my Step-ma out into the
middle of the parlour. " Now, young
woman," says he, cool as ice, "just quit
blubbering. You've act^d like a raging

] I

THE END OF THE WORLD

fool for weeks and the neighbours are
sick of it. You're my lawful wife, worse
luck, or I'd hand you out to the crowd.
No— I don't want to be hard on you — I'll
get you clear of this if it costs me my life.
Come, nobody's at the back door yet :
slip on a suit of my clothes, and skip the
country ! "

*' Sam,'* says he to me, " while I keep
the crowd amused, you see her off."

So I hustled Seraphina into his Sunday
suit, his overcoat, and a big slouch hat,
while dear old Dad stood at the upper
window arguing in a shower of brickbats.

" Hurry up, Sam," he called down the
stairs, "Jim Dogpole's breaking in with
his sledge-hammer, and some of "em are
running around to the back way. Send
her off quick, to the left ! "

So he went on argufying among the
flying bricks, while I hustled Step-ma out
by the kitchen door to head her south-
east for the woods. Dear old Dad ! It
was just to divert the crowd from follow-
ing that woman that he defended the
house, one man against five hundred,
fighting like a lion. I was busy enough
now loading his rifle and revolvers while

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

he blazed away from the parlour window.
Bullets were whistling all around us,
there was smoke coming up through the
floor, the thin scantling of the house front
was battered in, but Dad loomed in front
of me like a giant with the red glare on
his face, and blood streaming from his
shoulder where he'd just been wounded.
When there were no more cartridges left,
I got up to fight alongside of him, for he
was striking right and left with his clubbed
rifle at the people as swarmed through
the window. The parlour was all on fire
around us, but, since Dad didn't seem to
care, it was no concern of mine. I was
pleased all to pieces, getting in straight
blows with a revolver-butt, so that more
than one man was knocked silly who
hadn't reckoned me worth attending to.

Once, when I saved Dad's life by felling
a great big teamster who'd have killed
him, he found time to thank me with a
smile. How he fought ! Even after the
rifle broke in two, one man after another
went down under his fists, for his blows
would have felled an ox ; but it couldn't
last, because he'd no defence against the
cowardly skunk who opened fire with a

THE END OF THE WORLD

revolver through some holes in the burn-
ing wall ; so at last he fell headlong with
a mortal wound through his body, and I
knew that the end had come. He died
in my arms, with his fingers clutching my
hand to say good-bye, and a wonderful
smile passing over his face as his tired
head fell back upon my breast. Then I
heard the flames roaring about me, and
something struck me between the eyes —
and I dropped.

Kinder serious, eh .'* Well, it was rather
a rum way for a lad to begin his educa-
tion. They say it was Jim Dogpole who
hauled me out of the flames ; anyway,
'twas him as took me into his house,
nursed me tenderly as a woman till I got
back my strength, then adopted me as
his son.

rjr-

THE GULF STREAM PANIC

BY THE STRANGER

"So," said the Stranger, "you want a
good yarn? Right you are — you shall
have full particulars of the Gulf Stream
Panic.

"Being — excuse my bluntness — be-
nighted Britishers, you naturally don't
understand the first thing about journal-
ism. English pressmen, you see, are
merely polite essayists constrained by a
pitiless destiny to sully their pages with
news ; whereas our American newspaper
is a machine directing the movements of
politics and the Stock market in the
interests of a plutocrat. Now the biggest
newspaper building in New York is the
Bearcomer Block, where on the seven-
teenth floor sits Hiram S. Bearcomer
looking down from his office windows
upon the abodes of two and a half millions

THE GULF STREAM PANIC

of his victims. Until quite lately Hiram
was my personal friend, so when I hit
upon the scheme, just about twelve months
ago, my first move was to take an express
elevator to his private office.

" * Bully Boy,' sez he, * I want something
smashed all to bits-— want something to
trample on bad.'

"'Hiram,' says I, *how about British
securities ? '

"* Can't touch 'em.'

" * Hiram,' says I, * what gives 'em their
power ? '

"* Isolation from the Seething Ruck of
old Europe, good supply of coal and iron,
and weather that keeps 'em rustling.'

"* Hiram,' says I, * where does their
climate come from, what there is of it ?
Gulf Stream, of course ! Now suppose we
turn off the tap.'

"*How.?'

" * I've read somewheres that the Gulf
Stream used to flow right through into
the Pacific until that darned old Isthmus
of Darien stuck itself in the way. That's
when the polar bears got disgusted with
England and quit.'

^^ (

Well?

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

" * Hiram, suppose we sink the Isthmus
of Darien and turn the Gulf Stream back
into its old route.'

" * What rot ! ' says he.

" Well, sir, that man's naturally as cold
as a fish, but hairs began to stand up on
his bald skull by the time I'd shown him
my scheme.

" * Unscrupulous, Bully Boy,' says he.

" * Be virtuous,' says I, * and you'll lose
all the fun.'

" * How much do you want for the job ? '

" * Fifty thousand down for expenses,
five hundred thousand dollars if I
succeed.'

" * Done ! ' says he.

"Well, you bet I didn't give Hiram
time to relapse into penitence. That
night Bob, my partner, and I sailed for
Darien. Not that we let on to be
acquainted, for Bob, you see, looked
more natural than life as a British sports-
man, and as I was only gotten up as a
quack doctor he treated me like the dirt
under-foot. W^hen we got to Aspinwall
Bob put up at the hotel, giving out that
he wanted to be called next morning for
the Belize steamer, while I crossed the

THE GULF STREAM PANIC

Isthmus by rail to Panama. There I
rented a store and started advertising an
infallible pill to prevent fever — never did
such a business in my life !

" Next morning Billy wrote me to say
that according to my instructions he'd
overslept himself and missed the boat for
Belize, which would detain him for a week
without suspicion. Moreover, he'd found
out how to get at the Jamaica cable, and
was ready to cut at the appointed moment.
Meanwhile, I'd not been idle, for I'd
made friends with the Submarine Tele-
graph people, relieved the Boss of an
ague — I'm a dab at faith cures — and dis-
covered that we were distant relations.
He got so friendly that he wasted the
whole afternoon finding me two trusty
natives to send out into the woods after
humming-birds. As for the Central and
South American cables, why the old fool
took me out fishing, just to show me their
course over the coral reefs. He was a
queer old object, bald as a bladder of
lard, vain as a kitten with three tails,
and a perfect whale for brandy -and -
sodas. But for him I'd never have dis-
covered that the shore-ends of his cables

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

passed under the verandah of my pill-
store.

"At II. 1 5 on Tuesday evening, by
preconcerted arrangement, Bob tapped
the Jamaica cable with news, purporting
to come from the local correspondent of
the * Associated Press,' of a slight earth-
quake liver.ed up with subterranean
thunder. At half-past he tapped the
cable again with his second dose : * Awful
shock lasting thirty seconds from the
south-west, ground opened in main streets
vomiting floods of boiling water, hundreds
boiled alive, Panama reported in ruins,
Chagres overwhelmed by sea, all ship-
ping destroyed. Another awful shock
this moment, worse than the last. Feel
deadly sick — hold on '

"Five minutes later he sent the last
words : * Great heavens — we're perishing !
Wholj country going down, swallowed
up alive by the sea ! Mercif '

" At that moment the trusty humming-
bird natives, carefully selected by my
friend the Boss, were fifty miles away in
the bush slashing down the overland
wires. As for me I was out in the Bay
having a swim, while, thanks to brandy-

THFi GULF StREAM PANIC St

and-soda, the Boss was asleep in the boat.
I dove down among the coral and cut the
cables through in less than no time. That
was only supplementary, just to make sure
— for before I left home I'd put an electric
clock under the verandah, which discon-
nected the cable-circuits at 11.15 p.m.
The Isthmus of Darien was cut off from
the whole civilized world !

" Find us out ? Yes, if we'd not been
electricians. Suppose, in the ordinary
course of events, that the Jamaica cable
had been broken out at sea ; the clerks
would have found out by testing how
much electric current it took to carry as
far as the fault. Well, when Bob cut the
wire he -clapped on at the broken end a
coil equivalent to five hundred miles of
cable. My automatic clock had done the
same thing for the Central and South
American lines, so that they appeared to
be broken away out in the Pacific Ocean.
Of course there was no end of a row ; but
Bob and I were much too smart to get
ourselves under suspicion. The Boss at
Aspinwall sent off the repairing steamer
to take up the Jamaica cable at the five-
hundredth mile, but as to my friend at

tUIULJ/.'firF.^.f"' •J-'-«." '1* *V |lflJW|piU,i.

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

Panama, he was so flabbergasted that I
went oflf to bed with a clear conscience.
Poor beggar, he never did a blessed thing
to repair his broken wires — too much
brandy-and-soda.

" Next day ? Oh, I sold patent
medicines.

** Well, on the third afternoon I was
having a quiet smoke and chat with the
Boss, when he happened to casually
mention that the local 'Associated Press'
correspondent had hired a mule and
started out at dawn for Costa Rica. The
cable-cutting being a prime item of news
he was naturally bound to send off his
* copy ' somehow j but that didn't suit my
views.

"*Ah,' said I, as if a great light had
just burst in on me. * Now I under-
stand ! '

" * What do you mean ? '

"* His flight.'

" * What ? '

"* Can't you see, man? The Panama
Canal people are speculating on the
Bourse, and some of them have bribed
that rooster to monkey with your cables ! '

" ' I understand ! ' he yelled. * The

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-^■y'^^W-F ^^t^TI

tHE GULF STREAM PANIC

scoundrel ! I'll ride him down— I'll shoot
him— I'll lock him up— I'll '

"*Easy, partner,' says I, 'keep your
hair on. The overland line is repaired
as far as Anton — so get out your warrant
and wire at once to the local police. This
evening we'll follow cool and easy in your
buggy and extract a confession.'

" ' Excellent ! ' he cries. * Capital ! If
it hadn't been for my lucky guess '

" Well, anyway, without even thinking
of his cables, this idiot started out within,
an hour, and I with him, in the buggy.
Thirty miles out I left the poor beggar
tied to a tree, cut the wires,* and rode
for Costa Rica. I was the new Boss of
the Cable Company at their service ; I'd
Columbian Government credentials, I
was the embodied majesty of the Stars
and Stripes, and, if a posada wasn't turned
inside out to accommodate rhe, I'd clap
the unlucky landlord in the Alcalde's
lock-up and ride on. Never had traveller
such a retinue — why I guess I'd half the
Columbian Cavalry after me — a sort of
military promenade. If I hadn't kept
cutting the wires there'd have been the
whole population in arms ahead of me.

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Photographic

Sciences
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33 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, NY. 14580

(716) 872-4503

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L'?-

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

Escaped? Of course I did, and Bob
too, the week after ; but I never slept
until I struck New York.

"What a time they'd been having in
the Stock Market ! I tell you it beat the
Mississippi Bubble — it knocked Black
Friday cold ! You should have seen the
scareheads in the New York dailies :
* Tremendous Catastrophe ! ' — ' Darien
swallowed up ! Panama Canal with a
Vengeance ! ' — * Cape Horn out of Date ! '
— ' Commerce unchained ! ' — * The North-
west Passage created on the Quatua
Centenary of Columbus ! ' — * The Gates
of the East Unbarred ! '

" But that was only just the beginning.
On Thursday morning Hiram Bearcorner
got up a yarn that a steamer of the
U.S. Coast Survey had arrived at
Charlestown S.C. with the extraordinary
intelligence that the Gulf Stream had
disappeared ! The Scientists announced
that the great current must have humped
back into its ancient and previous course
to the Pacific. Great Britain, robbed of
her warm westerly winds, was going to be
another Labrador. Hence our national
rejoicings in the Republic !

THE GULF STREAM PANIC

"Then came the Gulf Stream Panic.
British Securities went down — down —
down — till the bottom dropped out ; New
York awed, Paris in raptures, London in
blank despair. The churches were ring-
ing minute bells for the British Empire.
Then at 5 p.m. came the gorgeous news
that the Darien cables were working — the
whole earthquake a fraud — a gambling
proposition got up by some enterprising
stock-broker.

" And Hiram, who'd held every dollar
he had ready for the event, who'd bought
in British Securities with every cent of
his credit, who finally discovered the
•^aud in time to rescue the Stock Mark jt
irom utter despair, this Napoleon of
Finance, this Preserver of Society, -^v/hat
of him ? Sir, that man must have cleared
a hundred million dollars, yet when I
called on him for my paltry remuneration
— what did he do .'* Go down on his ham-
bones with gratitude .'* Hand out half the
plunder ? No, siree — that sainted journal-
ist had me arrested for foul aspersion of
character, and I got a month's hard labour
for black ingratitude in an attempt to

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

blackmail my princely benefactor and
friend !

"What? What's that you say, man?
Do you dare to insinuate that I am
untruthful? Do you venture to assert
that you never heard of it ? Call your-
self a digitated Biped ? You quadruman-
ous ape ! You typical representative of
the English bat ! You ignorant puppy !
Never even heard of the Gulf Stream
Panic ! "

■PMW

mmm

HHWi

THE BLACKGUARD'S BROTHER

TOLD BY BILLY

We were out after those horse-thieves —
Corporal Dandy Irvine, Constable La
Mancha, and I — out on the great plains,
with three days' provisions and enough
health, strength, and joyfulness to have
rationed a hundred riders. I rather fancy
that, except for the " banged " tails of the
liorses, we might ha^ ^ ^ assed for habitual
desperadoes, and have been received
with open arms by birds of that same
feather ; for in those days troopers out on
detachment service left the red coats and
pipe-clay along with regimental discipline
and tearful recruits at head-quarters.

Little Dandy Irvine was the smartest
man in the Mounted PoHce ; I was the
biggest fool ; while Regimental Number
1 107, Constable La Mancha, broad of
beam, deep of chest, with a bull neck, an

sr,

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

iron grip in the saddle, features stuck on
anyhow, eyes glittering with mischief, a
swaggering, bullying, irresponsible mass
of devilment, was commonly known as
the Blackguard. His temper was brutal,
his manner ferocious, his obedience to
little Dandy Irvine wholly childlike. The
secret of this was a winter trip, when La
Mancha's brother, the Pup, had been badly
frozen. The Blackguard then was para-
lyzed with cold, but little Dandy saved
the Pup from being left to die in a drift.
"Fancy taking all that trouble with a
bally recruit ! " said the Blackguard.

Ever afterwards, when the more pre-
tentious officers found him mutinous, when
he turned the sergeant-major grey with
worry, when his customai-y quarters in
barracks was Number 5 cell in the guard-
room, the only man who knew how to run
the Blackguard was that same small
corporal. Dandy ruled me also as mind
rules matter ; in fact, we two had an
offensive and defensive alliance, which
made an attack on Corporal Irvine a de-
claration of war against the awkwardest
combination on the plains.

How the Blackguard ever came to serve

^■P

THE blackguard's BROTHER 89

the Empress is past finding out, he being
more Spaniard than white man, and blessed
with a title nine miles long. Only his
intimate chums knew him for Don Santa
Maria Sebastian lago las Something or
other de la Mancha, and not even
Dandy could call him Maria without risk
of grievous bodily harm. Titles counted
for nothing in the Mounted Police ; horse-
manship was better than sixteen quarter-
ings.

The Blackguard, with a Mexican som-
brero slouched down over his eyes, a grey
shirt, canvas overalls, and cartridge-belt
all askew with the weight of his service
revolver, looked much more like a casual
ruffian than an old-world noble. He rode
with one leg over the saddle-honi, pat-
ting the horse's neck, or chewed a bit of
hard-tack to sharpen his strong white
teeth, while he scowled darkly at the
horizon from under the brim of his hat.

"Devising mischief?" asked Dandy.

The Blackguard vouchsafed a malignant
glare over his off-shoulder, but answered
nothing.

Presently we struck the Regina-Aspen
Hills trail, where we turned southwards,

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

having made a long detour to catch our
horse-thieves from an unexpected direc-
tion. ,

" There's not been a wagon or horse,"
said La Mancha, "since Sunday's rain."

"As I thought," answered Dandy. "We
can camp at Lane's to-night, and if we
watch the gentleman he can't send word
to his friends. A good square meal, and
all night in, La Mancha."

" Look here ! " The Blackguard drew
up, jumped lightly from the saddle, and,
passing his arm through the rein, knelt
down upon a patch of alkaline clay.

" This footprint," he said, with a puzzled
expression on his swarthy face, "is new
since yesterday. A white man, heading
south, dog-tire 1, poor devil ! "

Dandy knelt down beside him, casting
his rein to me. "Wore long boots," he
said thoughtfully ; "bore heavy on the left,
as tholigh he carried a load on his right
arm. Looks like a police boot by the cut
of the sole — a deserter, eh ? And here's
the right foot in this alkali. By George I "

I dismounted at that, and, as I glanced
over their shoulders. Dandy and the Black-
guard were exchanging glances.

mmm

■^Pl

;

THE BLACKGUARDS BROTHER 9 1

"Why," said I, impelled by inward fool-
ishness, "he'd lost all the toes off that
foot ! " I felt quite proud of my sagacity.
" It must be frost-bite, eh ?"

" Shut your mouth," was Dandy's vigor-
ous comment ; and only then I remem-
bered that La Mancha's brother, the Pup,
had lost his right toes after the great
blizzard.

Poor Pup ! Nobody ever told him how
dangerous it was to be without moccasins
during the early thaws ; and when the
weather changed, when the wet boots
froze on his feet, he went on uncomplain-
ing until he dropped. So he was crippled
for life, and, but for Dandy Irvine, he
must have perished.

Was this really the Pup's trail we were
following ? Was the poor lad here alone
tramping toward Montana with that open
wound on his foot ?

At Lane's the traveller, whoever he was,
would stop for rest and food ; at Lane's
we might find a deserter, and that La
Mancha's brother.

Out on the plains no harm need come
of our meeting, but in presence of a
civilian any neglect of duty might get us

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

■'

into very serious trouble. So it was with
many misgivings that we rode in silence
hour after hour at an easy canter, with an
occasional foot-pace to breathe the horses,
until the sun was low. In those early
days the bufifalo-skulls lay thick about
the plains, and far away to east and west
and south the white bones gleamed as
though we rode on some old battle-field.
So very slowly the rolling ground which
was known as the Aspen Hills rose higher
and higher against the southward sky.
How the ground thundered as we three
cantered over the sounding turf ! — how the
gophers flicked into their holes, and the
dry bright air swept our faces, rich with
the sweetness of wild-briar ! Up toward
the hills the marigolds and golden rod
swayed in the June wind till all the plain
shone under the cloudless sky. Then the
trader's cabin loomed out through a clump
of bushes.

" Hurrah ! " yelled the Blackguard.
" Let's wake them up for supper ! " and
he fired six shots from his revolver.

" Halt ! " Dandy spoke pretty sharply.
"Can't you trust me, Constable La
Mancha ? Put away that gun."

THE KLACKGUARD S BROTHER 93

*' I beg your pardon," said the Black-
guard. " I didn't mean that, corporal.
You know jolly well I trust you; only if
that silly ass has deserted, I don't want you
to be accountable for not arresting him.
Why the deuce doesn't that youngster
run .'* " He held back nevertheless, falling
in with me, that Dandy might ride first to
the cabin, where stood the trader waiting
to give us welcome.

We all hated this " Shifty " Lane for a
sneakish officiousness which had more than
once got our men into serious trouble.

" Well, what's the best news ? "

" How Shermogonish ! " (Welcome
soldiers !) This trader affected the Cree
language. Then he grinned, pavying at
his red beard. " Out after deserters, Mr.
Irvine ? Well, I've got one for you here,
if that's good news." The man knew well
enough that we hated to fall in with
deserters, who, useless to the force, kept
better men dancing attendance on them
with regimental guard for nine months
each.

"Is there no back door to your shanty.'* "
asked Dandy, sarcastically.

" I bolted that." The brute was rubbing

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

his hands. " You know I'm always glad
to oblige the police."

Yes, and to harbour criminals, send
false news, smuggle whisky, sell rifles to
Indians. We knew Lane well.

The Blackguard had given me his rein
while he dismounted ; now he walked up
to the trader, and would have struck him
with his gauntlet across the face, but the
corporal intervened.

" Stand back," he said quietly.

" That's all right." An agly look came
into the Blackguard's face. " I only
wanted to insult him a little for fun."

" To insult me, sir ? " The trader
gasped with astonishment .

" Beg pardon," the Blackguard chuckled.
" It is not possible to insult you. I had
forgotten."

" Silence ! " Dandy was hostile now.
" You say another word, and I'll put you
under arrest." This threat was foolish of
Dandy, because non-commissioned officers
have no right to threaten.

But the Blackguard sighed. " That is
fate ; it is destiny ; Number 5 cell as
usual. Ah, well ! " — he turned reluctantly
away — " this Lane creature is doubtless a

THE HLACRGUARD*S IIUOTHER 95

special constable to arrest deserters from
the Mounted Police." His broken English
was so deliciously suave that the trader
knew hardly where to seize offence.

But if his brother were to have but a
minute longer wherein to make his escape,
something must be done to keep up the
argument. The Blackguard deliberately
spat upon the trader's dog.

" This is past bearing ! '' yelled Lane.
" You dirty, measly son of a gun, I'll
make you wipe that dog ! " and he drew
his revolver.

" Constable La Mancha," said Dandy,
wrathfully, " will you apologize ? "

The Blackguard raised his sombrero
with a low bow towards the trader. " I
apologize," he said politely — **to the dog.''

"Mr. Irvine" — the trader was dancing
with rage — "will you stand by and see
me insulted like this .'' "

"Yes," said Dandy, "unless you put
away that gun."

And now came La Mancha's brother out
of the shanty. Poor " Pup " La Mancha,
with his childish sad little face, was hardly
made for that rough life of the plains.

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almnlyf"'

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mntHirt'i. I Mf»ll MH IliM I^JlH^r'q flo^, afi^l
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Mm 1m HKi|(lh* vvilli polj/f' H^«?^ft^rq?' '

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WtMilil Im rt l(i( l< nil iIh* qlmnly <loor/'

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or IiIr into qmih^s. " I don't wnnf Ui ii<^
lni«1 lalU nliniil yniii roiintry, qir. Ymi
I'.iigllt^h nr«? (ho only propio Tit to he

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TrtE ARCTIC NiGHt

Spaniards. Ah me ! " he sighed ; " I
wish I'd shot that trader."

At sundown I went into the cabin, where

I found Dandy and his prisoner at supper.

" I suppose," said the trader, while I

was washing at the back door, " that it

will please your friend to be late "

I took a little of the conceit out of Mr.
Lane. " While you keep a public stopping-
place, you're compelled to serve all comers ;
but there's nothing that compels all comers
to be your guests."
We all ate our supper in silence.
" Look here, you young monkey," said
Dandy to his prisoner, while loading the
evening pipe, " if I let you sleep free
to-night, will you give me your word of
honour not to run } "

The lad looked up to me in some per-
plexity, but a wink was enough to solve
his doubts as to a parole.

" I make no promise," he said.
And of that I told the Blackguard when
we bedded down oar horses before the
night closed down.

" I see," said La Mancha. " Dandy
will put him in handcuffs, and lie in the
same bunk, eh ? " .

'mmm.

e
e
bf

r-
re

dy
he

THE BLACKGUARD*S BROTHER 91)

" Probably."

" Where will he keep the key ? "

" In his waistcoat-pocket, hanging up
well within reach. He doesn't want the
Pup for a cape, v'e."

" Thanks to that Lane animal," said
La Mancha, " Dandy will be reduced
to the ranks if the Pup breaks loose."

Knowing that this was inevitable, it
was in no very cheerful mood that I
sought my corner in the stopping-
place.

Nor was I wrong in divining Dandy's
thoughts. Long after he had shackled
the prisoner to the side of the bunk, I lay
awake considering what would transpire.
He gave the Pup the outer side of the
bed, hung his waistcoat to a peg on the
wall hard by, and slept the sleep of the
just. Everything could have been man-
aged so easily, if only the Blackguard had
held his peace that evening. Now La
Mancha had made the trader his enemy,
and, if the prisoner escaped, a ready wit-
ness would testify against Dandy Would
the Blackguard let his brother be taken
to Regina to serve a nine months' sent-
ence ; or would he consent to see Dandy

i6o

THE AkCTiC NlGMt

punished for neglect of duty? And yet
there seemed no other alternative.

A man who rides all day will sleep all
night ; so I never woke until the trader
roused me, according to Dandy's orders,
at grey of dawn.

The corporal woke also, starting out of
his sleep with a low cry of anxiety, rubbed
his eyes, and turned round to see if his
prisoner lay beside him. Yes, bui the
man who slept by his side bulked larger
in the bed than that fragile youngster
chained there over-night. The prisoner,
too, had taken all his bedding, which the
Pup would not dare to think of. Wrench-
ing the blanket aside, while the trader and
I stood by. Dandy found that La Mancha,
the Blackguard, had taken his brother's
place. The movement awakened him also.

"Well," said Dandy, "you're a nice
specimen, ain't you ? "

" A very nice specimen," muttered the
prisoner, drowsily. " You wanted Number
5 cell. Dandy Irvine, but that belongs to
me ; I live there." ^

" You'll get a year for this."

"That's my look-out, not yours," said
the Blackguard.

THE CURSE OF WOUNDED
WRIST

TOLD BY BILLY
I

The snow lay dazzling and boundless
on the Snake River ^plains ; and a man
was riding across the desert. He was an
Indian — not the miserable poor devil
Reservation Indian of to-day, but a Crow
— and in 1837 the Crows owned the
Rocky Mountains, and considered them-
selves entitled to despise the whole
human race. This young gentleman,
tall, strong, and handsome, was extremely
well pleased with himself. His hair,
adorned with eagle plumes, swept the
horse's flanks ; his deerskin dress was
fringed with the scalps of three full-grown
enemies ; above all he had a gun, a flint,
lock gun, and cherished hopes of obtaining
powder for it next summer. Nothing

T*"— ""T^*"!"!^

102

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

save a wife was needed to complete his
happiness ; and he was hoping on this
present expedition to steal a moderately
pretty squaw with a view to house-
keeping.

Smoke was rising in the distance, and
the Indian bore down at a comfortable
lope towards the strange camp. A small
band of horses seemed to have been just
turned loose on the foot-hills, and down
by the spring, a white man, having
picketed his gelding within reach, was
skinning a deer by the camp fire.

As the Crow drew near this stranger
looked up and made the peace sign ; to
which, being desperately hungry, the other
responded. Dismounting, he turned his
horse loose, squatted down by the fire, and,
too proud to talk, waited patiently for the
white man to invite him to dinner. For
some time the cooking absorbed his
whole attention, but at last his eye,
wandering from the white man's dinner
to the white man's goods, fell upon the
greatest of all earthly treasures, a bag of
gunpowder. Presently he began to feel
the qualms of a most painful conscience.
This stranger had ammunition, deer meat^

[

■

THE CURSE OF WOUNDED WRIST 103

and a beautiful scalp — what a fool he had
been to respond to the peace sign ! It
was very disagreeable ; but since he had
accepted this white man's hospitality he
must make the best of it and be content
with a very large dinner. He was a
warrior and a man of honour — but it was
a crying shame that the bag of gunpowder
should be within arm's reach, and the
man's hair, which would have just matched
his new painted robe, be, so to speak,
almost within his grasp. And yet he
dared not close his hand.

Had Miles Goodyear known his guest's
aesthetic tastes the results would have
been most disastrous. So long as he
did his cooking in deliberate calm he
was perfectly safe ; but suppose that from
nervousness he had served the meat
underdone, and enraged the savage —
the present amicable duet might have
ended in a scalp-dance, Pas de seul I

Miles was a young scamp. Leaving
his old father to pray for him in the Iowa
cornfields, he had while still of tender

104

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

years strayed across the Rocky Mountains,
joined the Bannock tribe, married three
wives, and become a warrior. At the
present time he was on the way with his
horses to winter pasture in the hills.
Though his buckskin clothes were in rags,
his moccasins full of holes, and he stood
half-naked in the biting winter wind,
his bronzed skin glowed with health, his
limbs were beautiful in their strength,
there was an impudent smirk on his mouth,
and from under the tumbled masses of
his golden-brown hair flashed out those
dare-devil blue eyes that had won for the
young trapper his place in the heart of an
Indian tribe.

Such were the two youngsters who ate
till the sun stood at high noon, and then
smoked together the solemn calumet until
they nearly dropped off to sleep. At last,
however, Miles aroused the Indian ; and,
as both were travelling westward, they
mounted and set off together, driving the
band of horses.

Now Miles, having turned Indian, would
not betray a white man's weakness by
being first to talk, and the Crow felt
accordingly that his new companion was

THE CURSE OF W0UNDB:D WRIST IO5

horribly dull. An Indian may be reticent
from having nothing to say, or as in this
case silent as a matter of dignity. Philoso-
phers talk so much that common people are
apt to attach a fictitious value to silence.
The Indians indeed consider it almost as
great a virtue as horse-stealing ; but after
all, the dignity so becoming when we feel
hungry and disagreeable, is a decided
bore after dinner. Miles worshipped the
Indian for his splendid clothes, the Crow
was very envious of the gunpowder — but
neither of them was inclined to frivolously
interrupt a silence which had lasted since
the previous month. Finally the Indian,
in a tone of chilling hauteur, caused by
extreme shyness, ventured the first remark.

" What's your name, white man ? "

"The Bannocks call me Two Strike,"
answered Miles.

There was a pause. The Indian, afraid
that some inflection of his voice might
have betrayed the innate contempt of a
Crow for a mere white man. condescended
to announce his own title.

" I am Driving Cloud ! "

Miles observed the sublime manner
assumed by a savage, and chuckled.

io6

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

The Crov/, feeling that some further
proof of superiority was needed to prevent
any unseemly familiarity, made an un-
lucky remark.

" I am from the Rocky Mountains, the
Crown of the whole Earth."

"The world's scalp, eh?"

The Indian was nettled.

"What should you know of the Land of
the Big Spirit ? — you a mere white man
from the muddy- water country down toward
sunrise ! A Crow's dog wouldn't drink of
the water in your country. What are you
poor whites — a few scattered ragged
creatures, with no home, no tribe, no
squaws. You steal no horses, you are
wretched hunters, you can't ride, you can't
scout because your rloses are stopped up,
and you're always afraid of war. I wonder
you dare speak to an Indian, a Child of the
Great Spirit — you whites who have no
religion except beaver skins ! "

*' That's enough for one preaching '*

But Driving Cloud was not to be stopped
on the wing.

"And what are you doing," he continued,
" among these poor miserable Snakes ?
They paddle in canoes till their le^s

THE CURSE OF WOUNDED WRIST 107

wither and they turn into salmon ; their
teeth are worn down from eating sandy
fish and roots ; they daren't steal and
they're not worth robbing — no one knows
what Snakes or whites were made for — "

" You don't know what a white man is,
Driving Cloud."

There was something unfamiliar here.
The Indian bent before those clear bright-
flashing eyes of the master race.

" Where are you going to, Driving Cloud ?
What are you doing in this my country?"

The white man's will was conquering
the other's as one masters a horse un-
willingly. The Crow found himself answer-
ing, half-defiantly —

" I'm seeking a wife."

" How nice," laughed Miles. " Would
you object to one of mine now ? Number
one is a chief's daughter — a beauty sound
in wind and limb, and I'm awfully fond
of her. The worst of it is that she's got
a blood feud with her relations and insists
on my bringing home their scalps when I
go out walking. As she's related to pretty
nearly everybody, her feud keeps me in
hot water with the whole tribe. You can
have her cheap.

io3

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

" No ? Well there's number two. She
was a slave, and I got her in trade for some
skins. Deuced pretty she is, but too soci-
able, and makes love to everything on
two legs between eighteen and sixty.
She'd run away with you at night, and
you'd have all you could do to keep her
from making advances to the grizzly bears
up in your mountains.

" As to number three, she'd been with
her relations forty years, and they got so
sick of it that they managed to mislay her
travelling. We met. She was starving,
and I gave her half a mountain sheep.
She ate it, and fell madly in love with
me. I had to marry her in self-defence,
so now she cares for me no longer. Yet
she lives on, has a raging appetite, and
sulks furiously. Take her, and I'll throw
in either of the others for good measure,
and half my ammunition. Mind you,
they're all good squaws as wives go ; but
to have them fighting among themselves
like wild-cats is more than I can bear. If
somebody doesn't come along and steal
at least two of them, I guess I'll run
away ! "
" White man," said the Crow solemnly,

THE curse: of wounded wrist 109

((

a warrior does not take old cast-off
squaws to his lodge."

" Like 'em wild eh ? Well row, there's
Moonlight. Perhaps she'd suit you. I'd
as soon marry a litter of tiger pups myself
When I asked for her once she reached
out for her father's gun, and her eyes
flashed chain-lightning. I concluded I
wouldn't marry just then."

*' Ah, she'd look me in the face, Two
Strike ; you can never tell when a squaw
is lying unless you see her eyes."

" She is nice to look at, partner, but
hard to get, because her old father's so
jealous he'll hardly let her out of his
sight, and wouldn't sell the :hit for all
the horses on the Crow range."

" Who can buy a squaw's soul with
horses, Two Strike ? Her heart belongs
to the man who'll keep the lodge safe
while her babies sleep. Look at this
little bag I have here — it contains the
Wampum of the Big Spirit. While I
guard this, meat shall hang in my tent ;
scalps shall I take in battle ; and, in my
desire, I shall find a wife. I went out
into the snowy mountains, and starved
four days. It was cold ; the snow cut

ilo

THHi ARCTIC l^IGrtt

my bare feet ; the wind never spoke ; the
clouds had no word to say ; the rocks had
no tongue ; the ice was blind and dumb.
On that fourth day there was a storm, for
the Big Spirit was going forth to war
with his braves ; but he passed me by,
and I was never seen. When he had
gone it was calm, and I lay down to die ;
but I heard a little voice that whispered
to me out of the air — just a small voice.
It told me of my Wampum, the Medicine
of the Big Spirit, that I have gathered up
and carry at my belt. While I have this
I need bargain no horses for a wife.
Where does the old man live ? "

The sun was going down ; the snow
around all tender brightness and azure
shadow. Ahead there was a break in
the plains ; the Canyon of the Snake
River, which rolls a thousand feet below
the desert. Out of this chasm there
arose a mist— the ground was trembHn<;,
the air vibrated with a dull roar. They
rode to the edge. There the battlements
glittered with great frost crystals ; thence
the lava walls fell away through violet
shadows into foundations of darkness,
and, down in the murk, far below, the

'^ppf^^pfl

mrr-

T?"^7"T^5

THE CURSE OF WOUNDED WRIST II f

scarlet light of evening kissed the brow
of a gigantic cataract. The great river,
the Snake, leapt roaring into space ; but
beyond and below the falls, down through
the mists in the lowe** night, there was
the glow of a little fire.

Miles pointed to this light, and, looking
back full in the Indian's face, said —
♦ "That's where Moonlight lives ! "

III

By that camp fire sat an old Indian, by
trade a maker of stone weapons. But
stone weapons, however excellent, were
no longer in demand. The white man
had come, and from him a gun could be
bought for a few ?kins ; nay, if he were
hungry, he would part with it for a dried
salmon, or a moderately fat dog. Still
the old man worked on from force of
habit, piling up his unsalable wares, and
grumbling at the degenerate age that no
longer cared for them.

He squatted by the fire at his work.
His left hand, covered with leather,
grasped a rough scrap of volcanic glass,

il»««..-3li>l».i«»rii..»»Stfc

\u.iii- 1 .m!h«i'\.'i.n^m

112

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

the beautiful smoky obsidian of the lava
plains, and, under subtle blows and
pressures of an antler point, this frag-
ment was being fashioned into an arrow-
head. The ground glittered with the
chips, the tool rapped merrily on the
stone, the fire burned cheerily — and the
music of the cataract was lulling the day
to sleep.

Presently a light footstep sounded
among the stones, and Moonlight came
up to the fire, threw down a bundle of
sticks, and seated herself at her father's
side. The Indians thought her very
beautiful. To savages we fastidious
whites are not quite human, for they
cannot distinguish us with their nostrils.
The poor creatures imagine that to love
a woman is not simply to listen to her
opinion on abstract questions ; but to feel
her hot breath, to see the gleam of her
teeth, to bring the blushes to her cheeks,
laughter to her lips, hght to her eyes, to
feel her heaving chest, the fluttering beat
of her heart — that is an Indian's love.

Moonlight had a tiger's grace, saucy
boldness that was half-fear, lips that
invited yet defied, soft hands to caress,

THE CURSE OF WOUNDED WRIST II3

and perhaps stab, and deep black eyes
that none could ever read — and they
thought her beautiful.

To-night she was restless, and fidgeted,
so that the old man growled —

** What's the matter with you ? "

" Why doesn't something happen ?
Why doesn't somebody come ? "

"Ain't I good enough company?"

Moonlight jumped to her feet.

" But I want something to marry," she
cried.

" That's why you refuse every man that
ofifers," sneered Wounded Wrist.

"Who.'* A toothless old fright from
Coiur d'Alene ; Young Tail-Spots, who
squealed because his sister threw a snake
at him ; Eyes-Behind, the Shoshone Chief,
who never fought anything bigger than a
rattlesnake, and ran away from that ;
and a white boy who can't sit his horse —
as if I'd marry a poor washed-out thing
from Muddy River. No, I want a man —
a warrior ; and if he doesn't come. 111
turn man myself. I'd be a better brave,
anyway, than these men-squaws of the
Desert. I tell you I want to get away
somewhere— I'm tired of this hole \"

<'■<';«

'>■ J-IU

114

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

She left the fireside, and went down to
the river, the very fury of whose waters
seemed to calm her, making the trouble
seem small by contrast. Her thoughts
went back to their accustomed course,
and she began to dream. Who was there
fit to love ?

Moonlight was by no means easy to
please ; and had Adonis himself appeared,
he might have met with some sharp
criticism. In that mysterious twilight
the very rocks and bushes seemed to
shape themselves as she gazed into the
form of her heart's ideal. That tawny
rock was like his deerskin dress, the half-
seen branch his waving eagle plumes, the
night-breeze stirred what seemed like
floating hair, and oh ! that dark face of
moss Wu,s staring as with eyes. How
beautiful was this, her vision of a man !
Were he real, how she could cling to
him, how she would slave to make his
lodge a home ! She stretched out her
arms, and rushed forward to clasp the
intangible dream, lest it should fade, and
leave her desolate ; then, with a shriek,
hid her face, and ran away gasping to the
water-side.

THE CURSE OF WOUNDED WRIST 11^

It was no dream, but a real live man !

" So you are Moonlight," whispered
the Apparition. **What, little one, do
you like me so much already? Now,
what's the use of your pretending to be
frightened, because I'm going — don't
shriek — to have a kiss ! Hush, now !
what^s the use, child, of trying to fight a
great big man like me ? Kiss me ! No,
you mustn't scratch — it's not nice. Now,
just cuddle up, and pull my hair, and be
comfortable. There ! "

Caught and mastered all in five minutes
little wild Moonlight wiped some blood
off her fingers, and felt rather pleased.
This was quite a new kind of admirer ;
and, since he would have his own way,
there was no help for it ; so for a moment
she just sat panting on his knee, and felt
happy.

Then came misgivings. The old man
was all alone by the fire. Suppose she
went away, must he still sit there making
arrowheads all by himself, year after year,
for ever and ever ? No, she could not be
so selfish ; but then

Why was the strong hand loosing her
arm ? Why was his face lifted from her

ii6

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

hair? Wistfully she looked up, found
the young Warrior gazing spell-bound up
the Crnyon, — and her eyes followed his.

The hanging immensity of lava walls
loomed black above, two snow-crowned,
overwhelming heights shut out the sky,
and, from between, the Stormy Cataract
leaped out of heaven. From mighty
spaces of silence, from five hundred
miles of desert, came these frightened,
these accursed waters of the tremendous
Snake, and gathered their strength to
thunder down walls of darkness in match-
less grandeur.

But it is all in vain — the broken life is
gathered up below ; the wounded River is
condemned to live, and, in the silence of
despair, coils onward out of sight between
the lava walls I

For all the years of her childhood
Moonlight had loved the Cataract, her
playfellow, her great elder brother ; but
now, a woman, she gazed upon it with
growing wonder and horror. What was
this awful Thing that came down wailing
out of the Unknown? What was this
terrible World from which the River and
her Warrior came ? Oh ! it was better to

THE CURSE OF WOUNDED WRIST II7

Stay here in the Canyon, and to be at
peace.

With a great cry of fear, she tore her-
self from the strong man's arms, fled
back to the camp, and there fell sobbing
in her father's arms.

But Driving Cloud followed.

Miles Goodyear, having pastured his
horses, returned on the fifth day to the
Shoshone Falls. Curious to learn how
Driving Cloud had fared with Moonlight,
he climbed, by a difficult trail, down the
Canyon walls. The fire smouldered, and
was almost out ; the old man sat alone.
Why was that grey head bent so low.^
Why was the Cataract roaring loud, while
the Gorge was all so still .'*

" Where's your daughter ? " cried Miles,
his voice trembling with anxiety.

" What's that to you, white man ? "

"Gone?"

The old man suddenly cast his tools
aside.

" Youngster," he cried, *' there's a plague

ii8

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

in the air called Love. It begins with a
craving of the heart, and its end is Death.
If you've such a yearning, waste it on
horses, squander it on stone walls — but
not as I did on a woman. A young
Warrior came, with his grand airs, and
his fine clothes ; smoked my pipe, ate by
my fire ; then Moonlight saw him, and I
hated him. These long years I have
toiled for her love — he won it in a day ! "
Miles had seen nothing wrong in telling
Driving Cloud where to find a pretty
wife, but he felt very sorry for the father
now. Moonlight had deserted Wounded
Wrist in his age ; had left him to go mad,
all alone in the Canyon. The old man
was clutching an embroidered bag, and
there was a terrible light in the sunken
eyes, a painful discordance in the aged
voice when he spoke again.

" See, I have stolen his Wampum, the
Medicine of his life. Stir up the fire, my
son ; throw on more sticks — I'm cold."

As Miles stirred the embers, and laid
on some fuel, the mourner rose, hurled
down the talisman into the rising flames,
then, with lean hands stretched out, cried
aloud into the darkness—

THE CURSE OF WOUNDED WRIST II9

" Master of Life, destroy him while this
burns ! Cold shall his spirit stand upon
the mountains, when he shall behold the
White Lodges in the Meadows of the
Dead ! But let him not go in spirit —
drag him down ! Drag him away that
he may starve, and wander in the sands,
and thirst — for ever and for ever — lost 1
Great Ghost Above, I swear I will not
go, a wanton's father, to the Land of
Souls — I will not die till I have slain my
child ! "

Miles was uneasy. " Of course," he
thought, " Old Wounded Wrist has done
no harm in burning a bag of charms,
and a!s to cursing his new son-in-law,
why, that's the usual thing ; but to follow
Moonlight and stab her in the back — she
doesn't deserve all that. This old lunatic
must be locked up.''

There was no difficulty in this. Only
two trails led up out of the Canyon, and
if these were blocked, the old man would
remain a prisoner. Once the tracks of
the lovers were hidden by a fresh snowfall,
the rock-paths might be open again with
little risk to Moonlight. Meanwhile there
was need of haste, for th^ old man mi^ht

120

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

Start at any moment on his murderous
quest unless the paths were cumbered.

Miles walked quietly away, and
Wounded Wrist, buried in profound
reverie, took no notice. The best path
that led up to the plains was steep and
dark, and as Miles climbed from rock to
rock upon the wall, he gasped for breath.
At last, at the summit, nearing the level
ground, he stopped and looked up, and
there against the night saw Driving
Cloud alone. His long hair, the fringes
of his robe fluttered upon the wind, his
coronet of eagle plumes seemed mingled
with the stars, and, as he loomed near
and gigantic, the white man was afraid.

" Where is Moonlight ? Driving Cloud
— where is she?"

" Must I be made weary with words,
white man ? "

" But — you loved her ! "

" The hot heart was breaking from my
ribs with love. But, Two Strike, I tell
you that this Canyon is a more than
earthly place. She was a spirit, and she
loved me not. I carried her upon my
horse until noon ; we camped to take
some rest. She sang to me until I fell

THE CURSE OF WOUNDED WRIST 121

asleep — then fled — back to her father's

lodge ! "

But Miles, remembering the curse —
" Her father has gone mad — sware he

would not die till he had killed her!

Oh, don't say that she's gone back to

him ! Save her, Driving Cloud — make

haste to save her, man — before it's too

late ! "

As Moonlight gained the floor of the
Canyon, and picked her way over the
loose stones, how dear to her was the old
familiar place. Tears blinded her eyes
when she saw the glow of the camp fire,
the poles of the lodge, the light flickering
brightly on the skin wall of the tent.
Next to her husband's she craved for her
father's love, since all else was sacrificed
now to him. How gently he would draw
her to him ! Would he not lift up that
old grey head and laugh, because she was
safe ? The light would come into his face
again, and in his loving arms she would —
forget.

ShQ crept softly to surprise his reverie,

122

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

came trembling with tenderness and pent-
up tears ; and with her face all darkened
with the raven hair, sank at the old man's
side, and waited in silence till he should
give his blessing.

She never saw the red glare in his
eyes, or understood the straining of his
limbs, or felt the presence of the celt that
flashed a moment over her bended head.
The blow fell crashing through her brain
— there was no sigh, no moan — only a
little tremor as the spirit broke away
from the flesh. The obsidian bolt, all
bloody in the glare of the hearth, leapt
like a meteor from the old man's hand,
hissed as it sped through the night, and
splashed twice where it entered the still
places of the river.

There Driving Cloud stood, breathless,
petrified, among the trees ; and saw her
reel, and stagger, and then fall ; and find
no rest upon the rocky bank, but roll,
and stay, and roll again with horrible
turmoil over the loose stones. The
waters bathed her head, her long hair
trailed out upon the bloody stream, the
• ripples mingled with her floating dress,
^nd night closed in upon the drifting dead.

THE CURSE OF WOUNDED WRIST 1 23

Then Wounded Wrist laughed loud :
"Where is thy Wampum, Driving
Cloud ? And she that left a life's love for
a day's sport — where is she now?
Where—

But Two Strike the white man's eyes
seemed staring into his very soul — then
came a low voice that seemed to strike
like lightning:

" Murderer, she left his love for you ! "
While Wounded Wrist stood there the
fire slowly burned away — and the night
covered him. But Driving Cloud was
mourning by the water's side, and with
the hours came the day's dawn. The
Accursed River leapt wailing into the
abyss, but yet its shattered life is
gathered up below. The eyes of broken
men behold Despair, but m that long
black night of agony he had learned the
River's lesson. His brave dark eyes saw
waters broad beyond, the sunlight flash-
ing on a mighty stream, and then the
Bar, — and last the great wide Se<l,

rUK CAT lACTORV

;

VoVT l^ritishcip, Ml. Hilly, think yotiVc*
<iitnrition cu(o, 1>ut when you want to
Vf^i^^c tho wind you whiatlp ; wlinions W(»
An\rrirans M>«'. Whrn you'ip hf\nl \ip
yon go ti)\tn*i looking for a job of work

Now wo An^orir;n\s ain't hunting around

for A jol\ bo( auso wc know that when

Ttadc's down at one end it's up at the

other and we're ifiosfly *?/ M'" ot^^r nu(.

When V\\\ hard up I get out and rustic.

Hon't know what that means, eh ? VVall,
I'll explain.

Td lost a lot of n\oney selling lightning-
rods. Started in right enough I ealkilatc
— l>e-gan by getting awful yarns into the
local p;\pe!-s. ** Horrible Tragedy 1 Struck
by Lightning. Five Infants lUirnt to a
Crisp ! Mother in a Madhouse —Pa off

124

■^ PIP

1MK, (AT f^AC Tf'HV

cm rt hiuiik! lfn(»py IhMiie all I'roke-
iip ! No I J^hlnitiK < 'Hiftdctor I "

Tlmi fr(c:lip»l 'em ! iCvfry fi^rrri-hrmqe
1 went \n i\my liroM^lit tiir tluit newspaper
and juflt hej^^ffl ino to put np a lighfnin^-
rod t(» nave tlirlr innnrent bahes* 'riiat'«?
all il^ht. Mut then yon see there were
sewing inachhie men arotind who ^ot
jealons of my hick, and took to warning
folks against wasting their snbstanre on
riotfuis li^htnin^ ri>ds which jnst polarized
the sewing-maf hincR, magneti/.ed the
clock, and pnt the little bahy's works all
wrong entirely wilh electrolysis metem-
psychosis. After that the mothers would
say, ** I think not ; don't want any new-
fangled diseases cavuurling around here/'
It ruined me !

So that's how I came to start a Cat
Factory. What arc ye laughing at any-
ways? Where do you imagine the fur
comes frcjm ? Do you believe that the
sable, the marten, the mink, the royal
trmine, the stately fixings of the aris-
tocracy, come off 'n wild animals ? No,
Siree, you stroke the fur sacque of the
dowager Porkpackeress, and you think
that 'ere sacque is Hudson's Hay and

126

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

Siberian sables? Pshaw— go and cool
your head ! The Phcenix Domestic Cuss,
commonly known as the domestic cat, is
responsible for the winter splendours of
your rampant Peerage and Porterage ;
while even the tyrant Czar and his de-
luded Missus wear sables trapped in the
back areas or on the midnight tiles of a
distracted Metropolis. Yes, Sir, when the
lightning racket wouldn't delude any more
public, I pranced out into the boundless
West and started a Cat Factory.

You see a maiden aunt happened to
pass in her checks about that time — she'd
been taking patent medicines, poor thing
— and as she left me a couple of thousand
dollars in trust for missions to the unof-
fending heathen, I was pretty well fixed.
I located, gentlemen, in Southern Oregon,
and bought me a forty-acre let situate on
the bank of a river. At the back of the
meadow was steep bluffs flat on top,
which reached back a hundred yards or
so to the mountain-side. Now the heft
of my land was down in the meadow-flat,
but one corner reached back on top of
thebluff and took in a boiling spring just
at the foot of the mountain — which the

THE CAT FACTORY T2'J

same I used to bathe in every few months,
the habit of bathing, gentlemen, being
uncommon good for the health whatever
may be said to the contrary.

Now by winter I'd got the place well
fixed-up for a cat ranche, and was away
in Portland advertising around for suit-
able animals, when I heard that an
insinuating stranger had happened along
and annexed my boiling spring. Back I
comes, hot foot with my car-load of
pussies, calculating to shoot that same
stranger, when what should I find but a
large hotel building on the bench, my hot
spring turned into a sanatorium, and a
clerk with diamond shirt-studs and a
large eye-glass to order me off the pre-
mises ! Swear ? I swore until that bench
land just quivered, but what could I do ?
The hotel folks showed a clear title from
the late owner of the ranche. Of course
I started out to plug a hole through the
late owner ; but when I came to smell
round after his tracks I found that he'd
suddenly got religious and lit out for
foreign parts. In fact he'd done me up
just as if I Was a mere tenderfoot, and I
was plumb disheartened.

fKJStlW

128

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

Now I don't want to disparage the
works of Nature, but that 'ere hot spring
didn't have any medicinal qualities in my
time. Sure enough a gentleman — Faro
Bill his name was — had died in the bath
once, but then he'd had his mouth under
water at the time, so medicine or no
medicine he'd have been drowned any-
way. Fact is I was well acquainted with
the " drummer " ^ as supplied the chemical
ingredients for the spring. Gentlemen,
that sanatorium grieved me — for it was a
fraud.

What's the use of a hundred-dollar
stranger litigating with millionaires ? I
seen a little rat once bucking agin' a
hog, but when they got through fighting
tAere was no rat. No justice for me,
you bet — unless I kin buy up the jury.
I sot down at the foot of that bluff,
to make them bloated summer hotel
plutocrats wishful that they'd never been
born. Cats when they're left to them-
selves breed at much the same rale as
mosquitos, curates, and southern Irish ;
which means that if they weren't occa-
sionally thinned out by an exasperated
* Commercial traveller.

^^mmmm

THE CAT FACTORY

129

public the piling up of the critters would
disturb the terrestrial gravity and spin the
whole blooming planet into the adjacent
infinitudes. Wall, one car-load of cats
multiplied by itself three times a year
makes a total of sixteen car-loads.

**How did I feed 'em?" Oh, that
didn't bother me a little bit. There was
a United States cavalry post only two
miles away, so I was able to buy up all
the dead horses. "What killed the
horses.?" Well, fact is, partner, that
they'd so little to do they ate their heads
off.

But to continue. Sixteen car-loads of
cats — well, what's the matter now ? " Mar-
ket ? '' Why of course there's a market. A
good black tom-cat pelt fetches two
dollars, while the imperfect skins is dyed
into bear, musk, marmot, ermine — and in
fact all wild animals in general, except
snake-skins, which are manufactured in
Birmingham.

Well, to resume. Sixteen car-loads of
black pussies, multiplied by itself three
times for the second year's increase,
pretty well stocked up my cat factory.
You couldn't hear yourself speak for miles

13d

The arctic night

around ; while as to the sanatorium, they
had to pay a caretaker three dollars a
day and his ear plugs to induce him to
stop in the hotel. Them capitalists came
to me on their bended knees — but think
I'd sell out ? No, I ain't party to any
sanatorium that steals a poor man's bath
to defraud invalids.

My cat factory continued to be a howl-
ing protest against the tortuous immor-
ality of the speculator — besides they
didn' t offer me enough.

Them capitalists was so hostile that
you could track them across country by
the blue swear-streaks they left in the
air. They couldn't prosecute me for
nuisance because I started my cat ranche
before ever they were heard of in them
parts. As for me, I just fed an extra cavalry
charger to my little pets so that they
yelled that night one horse-power louder
than ever.

The hotel folks got desperate. Their
sanatorium had been shut up two whole
years like a baronial castle with a bad
attack of the ghosts ; the whole state of
Oregon was laughing at them ; they
couldn't have me shot for fear of offending

M,^

THE CAT FACTORY

131

the tourist interest ; while, as I'd told a
dozen reporters how the hot spring was
drugged, it had already cost the directors
fifteen thousand dollars to prove it
was natural medicine. " So I beat them ? "
Now, stranger, that's how you jump at a
rash conclusion. The moment them
directors found out that their investment
was no good to them, they bought water-
rights in the mountains, built a flume,
turned on giant hose, washed out a deep
trench at the back of the sanatorium, and
one fine night, while I lay in my little bed
in the cottage by the river, down came
that gravel-terrace three hundred feet
high, including the sanatorium and the
fee simple of the estate, with a horrible
roaring smash, slap-bang on top of my
cat ranche ! There wasn't a kitten left
to howl. Gentlemen, the rest is silence.

**What did I do.?" Wall now, what a'
question ! Do.'' Why, can't you see that
the sanatorium was trespassing on my
ranche — that the said trespass had done
grievous bodily harm to my pussies, hav-
ing wiped them out as aforesaid .»* The
newspapers suggested a repussification ;
but no, after that catastrophe, I'd had

!»l)||UP*i<l|W^'<

132

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

furbearancc enough. I just turned right
round on that hotel company, and got
judgment agin them with damages to
more than the full appraised value of the
cat factory !

mmm

THE TRAGEDY OF THE * SEA-
BIRD'

TOLD BY THE CAPTAIN

Whejz he 7uas dyings a month after Sunrise

Well, since you must know, I'll tell
you fellows what I never told before, but
if any man repeats this story while I live,
I swear I'll kill him.

Why did I go these last seven years
among the Coast Tribes with whisky ?
Why, if I live, shall I go again this sum-
mer ? To carry damnation among the
Indians — because I'm at war ! Three
thousand there were in the Broughton
Archipelago, one thousand are dead, the
other two thousand I have yet to kill.
Horrible, isn't it ? But then you see war
is always horrible. Of course I might
have had a gunboat sent up to shell a
village or two, but then the Indian De-
partment would pay them compensation

133

T^r-

134

THE ARCTIC NKIHT

afterwards for having been so unkind. Is
that enough to satisfy me for the message
that killed my wife? Will that make
amends for the death of my only son?
No, I have better weapons — delirium
tremens, starvation, and raving madness.

In 188 — , after I left the sea to settle
down in Victoria as I thought for good
and all, my old woman consented that
Fred should have the wish of his heart
and be a sailor. I didn't want him to go
away in a strange ship until I had broken
him in ; perhaps the truth of it is that I
was sick of loafing around in the garden ;
anyway my little schooner the Seabird
was idle in harbour without any chance
of ])cing chartered until the spring, so I
thought it would do Fred good to learn
the rig of a fore and aft vessel, the hang
of a tiller, and the nature of coastwise
trade. I engaged two A.B.s I knew
well to help work the vessel, and managed
to get half a cargo for Alert Bay and
Fort Rupert, which lie to the norrard on
the inner coast of Vancouver Island.

We sailed from Victoria, and all went
well until we got into the Broughton
Archipelago, which lies between the

m*"' «

"^^

THE TRAriFDY OF THK * SKAHIRI) *

'35

northern part of Vancouver and the main-
land. The group is supposed to contain
about ten thousand islands and rocks,
and long fjords run off into the mainland.

It was late in the fall of the year, and
we had a south wind blowing in squalls,
with heavy rain. I didn't care to risk
travelling by night in those channels, so
I usually anchored at sundown. Now, I
knew that the Euclataus on Johnstone
Straits have a bad name, so I was not
anxious to put in at one of their villages.
But when I ran for a little deserted place
called Blenkinsop Bay, I found there a
whole tribe of Indians in camp, probably
on their way home from the Fraser River
salmon-fishing. Just as we dropped
anchor an Indian came alongside to ask
what we had to sell, and one of the sailors
yelled out " Whisky ! " for fun, he said.
For fun I kicked him down the fore-
scuttle, and told him to mind his own
business.

After supper I felt uneasy, but thought
that an anchor-watch was hardly neces-
sary. There had been no trouble with
these Indians for nearly twenty years ;
they wore civilized clothes, and had a

136

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

wholesome terror of British gunboats.
Would to heaven that Fred had had
some one better than a natural-born fool
to take charge of him ! The Indians
believed we had a loaH of liquor on
board, and there was no ch kept !

The lad lay back in his bunk chafting
me until I fell asleep, then fired a boot at
me out of sheer impudence, to let me
know I should go tq sleep properly, and
not snore. Once I woke up and saw him
by the light of the cabin-lamp, with his
head nestled in the bend of his arm and
the wavy brown hair hanging down over
his forehead. He looked as pure as a
little child. Oh, how I ved the poor
boy !

I woke again with a start. There was
a sound of tramping feet on deck, scuf-
fling, swearing, and then a loud yell.
Fred had left the cabin. Taking my
rifle from the rack, I jumped on deck.
There lay my men in their blood, and
scores of Indians were swarming aboard
from every side, brandishing knives,
yelling, and firing their guns. Of Fred
I could see nothing. I fired once and
missed, and then, as they made a rush

THE TRAGEDY OF THE * SEARIRD '

137

aft, I threw away my gun and jumped
overboard. Once I rose close under the
stern for air, then dived again, and swam
down the bay with the ebb-tide. Perhaps
I was taken for a seal, for no one shot at
me when I rose again for air. Finally, I
landed and took to the woods.

Meanwhile the Indians amused them-
selves getting drunk on what liquor they
could find in the xrabin-lockers ; and
when they fired the schooner, I'm glad to
say two of them got burnt to death in
consequence. That made a total loss to
them of, I believe, five men, all of whom,
according to Indian law, must be avenged,
life for life. I crept to the edge of the
timber and saw the little craft blaze up
vhile all those devils hung round her
drunk, fighting among themselves, as
their canoes swayed to and fro in what
looked like a sea of blood. There was
no sign of my son.

In the morning I was captured, after
a good set-to with fists. I should have
been shot, but that I began to talk
French, bow, smile, and gesticulate just
as I once saw a little barber do in Mar-
seilles when the police came to arrest him

138

THK ARCTIC NIGHT

for having too iriany wives. They thought
I was crazy and inspired. A doctor came
up before me and began imitating a bear
or a whale — I couldn't quite tell which —
and then tried to flap his wings like an
eagle or a duck. In a voice resembling
a circular saw he claimed me as his pro-
perty : and finally I grabbed him by the
nose, looked earnestly into his eyes, and
intoned ** Mary had a Little Lamb'' and
" Rule Britannia." He walked before
me like one inspired — and I was saved !

The Indians lashed me hand and foot
in a canoe, and broke up their camp.
An hour later we were threading the
channels of the Archipelago, and that
evening reached a village which I recog-
nized as Mamalillicullah, at the mouth
of Knight Inlet, one of the great fjords.
There are about a score of large, low-
gabled Indian houses fronting upon a
little bay. Several of them are covered
with grotesque paintings, and before
them rise poles capped with figures of
impossible beasts. Behind the village I
noticed that many of the trees at the
edge of the big timber had coffins lashed
in their tops, and the lower branches all

THIC TRAGKDY O^ THE ^SKAIURD' I39

• 4 •

cut away— to prevent the bodies from
being stolen, the Indians said. I was
carried into one of the largest houses, on
which I had noticed an inscription : —

"Hyas Boston Tyee,

he give awa 3000 blankits every wonder."
The title means in English High Ameri-
can Chief. My modest host sent me out
next day under guard to cut firewood, but
the guard got two black eyes and a
broken head, and it took the whole tribe
three days to catch me. That made
them think that a bird in the hand is
worth two in the bush, so I was roped
down to the floor in a corner of the
house, and fed on any dried salmon that
was too wormy for my owners. When
the dogs got hungry they would come
and sniff at my legs, but found too little
meat on them for a good bite. As the
weather grew colder, and the wind poured
in through the cracks, carrying rain or
snow, I would lie straining for a glimpse
of the fire burning brightly in the middle
of the house, for even that was better
than nothing. Day and night I thought
about Fred, and wondered what had

140

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

become of him. Once the women had a
feast of berries and rancid fish-oil, and
one of them brought me some in a bowl.
As she stooped over me, I asked her, in
the trade jargon, what had become of my
son, the young white boy on the schooner.
Her eyes reddened, and I think I heard
a sob as she turned and ran away with-
out answering. That night she crept up
to my side and whispered, "They are
keeping you for the Ha-mad-siy What
was the Ha-mad-sif

A month passed, and I could see
through the cracks that the snow lay
deep round the village. It was bitterly
cold. The High American Chief came to
look over his treasure-boxes piled up
near where I lay. He found a " strong
paper " from a \vhite man, and threw it
to me to read. It was a testimonial that
the bearer was the biggest thief on the
coast. I said it was a very good paper,
but that if he would tell me the fate of
my boy I would make him a much
stronger one. You know an Indian con-
siders a white man's order for money as
good as cash, and that gives him great
faith in any kind of writing. The chief

THE TRAGEDY OF THE * SEABIRD * I4I

produced some paper bearing my own
monogram. I bled a dog for ink, and
trimmed an eagle plume for a pen. My
testimonial was a very strong one : —

^*' MamalillicuUahy Mouth of Knight Inlet :

^''December 1884.

** To whom this may come.

" Have bearer, Hyas Boston Tyee,
arrested on charge of murder. On
October i8th last, at Blenkinsop Ray,
Johnstone Straits, my schooner Seabird
was captured, plundered, and burnt by
this tribe, and two seamen, Robin Steele
and Hans Johnson, murdered and burnt.
My son, Frederick, is missing, and I am
a prisoner here, getting very weak.

" Forward this at once to the Local
Government, and a copy to Zaccheus
Wade, solicitor, New Westminster.
" Yours sincerely,
"Richard Kendrick."

I translated this to the chief, and he
was delighted at all the kind things I had
said of him, although I don't think he
ever showed the testimonial ; but when I
asked him about Fred, he grinned and

142

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

said, "Wait for the Ha-mad-siy Un-
grateful brute !

Somehow I managed to make friends
with his son, a good-looking young
savage. From him I learned that the
Ha-mad-si is a man-eating ghost some-
where in the mountains. He gives his
name to a secret society which exists in
all the villages of this nation. He him-
self was going to be initiated that winter,
and would have to stay in the woods
naked, and without food, until he met
this delightful ghost. Then, when all
the tribes were gathered together, the
initiates were to come into the village,
and I would know all about it. As he
spoke, a little boy jumped up from behind
him, and said, " Ha, ha ! they'll eat a
white slave ! '' From that I supposed
that this young man had a rather too
special interest in me, and I dropped his
acquaintance from motives of delicacy.

Only six miles away, on the island
opposite to the village, was White Beach,
where a trader lived. I decided to steal
away privily with the public larder by
night ; not that I desired to put anybody
to inconvenience, but rather that I did

THE TRAGEDY OF THE * SEABIRD * 143

not wish to incommode the public diges-
tion. From White Beach I would send
my compliments and a side of bacon as a
substitute, with a little strychnine on it
by way of condiment. My rope did not
bother me much, for it was not dirtier
than wormy salmon, and my teeth were
strong. At midnight I had eaten through
it, and was free. The fire still smoul-
dered, and the people were lying round it
asleep in their blankets — several families
of them. I crept to where the pans were
lying, hoping to find some bread, for I
wanted that almost more than liberty.
There was none. Reflecting as to
whether I would taste fishy after such a
diet of salmon, I stole to the door. There
lay the canoes hauled up on the beach ;
the black water reached away among
snowy islands, and there was not a sound.
Then I must needs stumble, and in an
instant all the dogs were yelling, and
people began to swarm out of the houses
with guns. I crept back to my old lair
and lay down.

Another month passed, and it was just
the same, except that they had a guard
over me at night. I didn't mind much^

m ^

144

THE ARCTIC MiGhT

save that he always slept sitting up, which
made his snoring convulsive, and kept
me awake. The cold became intense,
and the dirt troubled me — but I won't tell
you about that. There is one thing, I
didn't pretend to be mad any more — there
was no need.

I remember when the tribes began to
gather. The High American Chief gave
away three thousand blankets, and re-
ceived in trust a copper escutcheon, black
with age, and covered all over with ugly
eyes. All day and all night the doctors
rattled and howled beside a sick woman
in the next house, and sometimes I heard
them jump up and down on her chest to
drive the devils out. They drove some-
thing else out too, and she was buried in
a tree.

After the giving away of the blankets
the devil-dances began, and were kept up
night after night. The dancers wore
wooden masks with animal faces that
winked, and gaped, and flapped their
ears. These came out one by one, and
posed and stared all round the fire for
a minute or two, while the musicians
chanted and beat time on a board. Before

k%-

'IW^

Tfr-

THE TRAGEDY OF THE * SEABIRD 1 45

the dances came to an end three naked
men appeared in the village. Each had
a plaited ring of cedar-bark round his
shoulders, and another about his head.
When they came into the house people
cried, " Ha-mad-si." A man ran up to
one of the initiates, whom I recognized as
Yelth, the chiefs son, stripping the shirt
from his own arm. Yelth stooped and bit
savagely, and then spat out the living flesh.
Day after day the three came into the vil-
lages and bit men, women, and children.

And then all the people gathered in
the house one night, and a great fire was
built up on the hearth. They dressed me
up as a doctor, sprinkled eagle-down on
my hair — I was too weak to resist — and
made me sit in the seat of the chief, facing
the fire. I heard all the people laughing
at me, but my head ached, and I was
very weak. They were all looking to-
wards the door, chanting loudly to the
beating of a board. I saw a yellow cat
walk across near the fire.

The door opened, and the naked men
came in, bearing a body all shrivelled up
and dry. They were bending down, and
biting it and cutting off strips to eat.

'^^'"H" ili»pi.J'i :.^iim'"Vil" ' ''W-^H^'i

' ' ■f;if«;.«wi,-^^i>yi«3»f .;

146

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

And then they brought it nearer, and I
recognized that it was a man's body, very
white — yes, very white. Presently I saw
the face, the dead face, and everything
around grew very dark. It was very dark,
but I knew it. TAey were eating my son I

I remember that I was lying in a canoe,
and the Indians were paddling softly, and
chanting low. I felt the rise and fall of
the swell, and the ripples under the
bow ; and I looked up, and the air was
clear and warm, and the sun going down.
And there, ahead, I saw a mountain
about a mile high. A few trees grew on
the cliff ; but the top was crowned with
thick ice. The snow was melting, and all
over the face hung a lace-work of white
cataracts tumbling and leaping down in
the warm air. Then the channel turned,
and ahead there was a pale golden wall,
not so high as the other mountain, for I
could see trees on the crests, where it
was cut in sharp spires, with one great
dome below. The canoe put in behind
that rock as the night closed down. After
that the cold came.

II H I. "I w\

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"F^P'jJir'wi'w^

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THE TRAGEDY OF THE * SEABIRD * 1 47

The Alps know no time and are weary ;
but they let their glacier tongues lick up
all the warmth of the caiions : only the
flord swallowed up their avalanches. Out
of the grey lips of the clouds came hurri-
canes, and the little bitter waves crouched
down and avenged themselves on the
cliffs. The lightning was frightened at
the echo of the thunder, and all the little
birds hid away from the rain. Then all
that was grey above became white below
— and the cold came down.

" bh ! Almighty God, make it very
cold, and take away their food, for I am
weak to kill so many all by myself ! "

At last I looked up on the warm day,
for the sun shc.ie — and there was the face
of a white man bending over me. »

.43

MMUlMlliikiii

«-T"T"!r

A COWBOY ON ^CHANGE

TOLD BY JIM BALLANTYNE

*' Prisoner gives his name as Jones,*'
said the officer, chuckling. " He*s ironed
hand and foot for fear of accidents ; but
mind, if he goes for you, yell, and I'll let
you out."

So the deputy warder threw open the
grated door.

'* Prisoner — here's yer lawyer; and I
warn you, if you smash him up you won't
get another."

The door swung to behind me, but so
dark was the cell that at first I could see
nothing of " Mr. Jones."

*' Good-afternoon — ahem ! *' ' said I
feebly. One never knows what may
happen in the Bitter Root City jail.

" I ain't going to hurt you,'* growled the

prisoner. ** Sit down ; make yourself at

home."

148

A COWBOY ON CHANGE

149

The voice was manly, resonant ; the
man was a young athlete ; I could just
see that his boots, being the nearest part
of him, were the dainty high-heeled Wel-
lingtons of a cowboy ; while the rest of
his dress — a sombrero, shirt, overalls, a
broad web belt, and silk handkerchief
round the neck — bore out the character.
The man's presence already brought up
some faint memory ; indeed, I felt that
I knew him, but not under the surname
of Jones. Surely this sunburnt young
frontiersman was some old friend !

"I can't offer you any refreshments,
Mr. Lawyer," said the boy drowsily.
" The accommodations, in fact, are slim
— very slim. Why," he woke up, " what
the deuce are you staring at ? "

*' Jack Brancepeth," I ventured, " don't
you know me ? "

*' What ? Williams major ? Hurrah t
Shake, you duffer ! "

It was not easy to shake hands, for my
old schoolfellow was shackled spread-
eagle fashion to the bed.

"Yes," he laughed, ** they've got me
roped for branding, and then they'll clip
my ears, and corral me all by myself,

^,.

150

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

lest I corrupt the good manners of the
other victims."

*' Well," said I frankly, " it jolly well
serves you right. A fool who amuses
himself shooting the stockbrokers on
'Change ought to be "

** Smacked," said Jack. *' I knocked
out three deputy marshals, damaged one
sheriff, bored a few holes through things
generally. I only wish I could chew up
some more police by way of dessert. I
feel as happy as a chip."

" Look here, we're civilized people in
Bitter Root City, we're not used to cow-
punchers."

" Well, you don't amount to shucks, as
you say. Look here, I want you to let down
the bars of this corral, I've been lonesome."

" How can I get you out ? Don't you
see, these stockbrokers are not used to
being shot at .^"

** Yes," he groaned, " that's what's the
matter. I've offended their little local
prejudices. But that's all right ! "

" All right for state p jxplained.

He only chucV- '
- " Well, I did 1 iC c ip, jme. But,
as I say, that's ah right I'll tell you the

A COWBOY ON ^CHANGE 151

Straight yam — then you can turn it into
the right kind of lies and have them
sworn to. See?"

"Go on," said I.

" Well, to begin with, I got me a tract
of meadow-land up Wild Creek, back of
Branchville, Idaho — do you know the
place? No? Well, I stocked the ranche
out of what I'd saved, with a short-horn
bull — by Climax — together with thirty-
nine head of scrub cattle, and a band of
ponies. Since then whenever IVe hap-
pened upon mavericks — unbranded cattle,
you know— I've adopted the poor orphans,
clapped on my little Q — that's my brand
— and turned 'em into the pasture.
There's been some satisfaction in annex-
ing old Silas Hewson's calves, but even
then it ain't over and above square deal-
ing, besides which it's slow work building
up wealth out of strays. So I suppose a
hundred head all told would make up the
sum of what I had last fall, though since
then I've been laying by my thirty dollars
a month cow-punching for the * Square
Triangle' outfit down Boise way, which
money I've put into improvements on my
Wild Creek ranche.''

'SUW^'

152

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

**You seem to have been on the
make."

"Yes/' Jack heaved a great sigh, "but
it came deuced tough. Why, Tve sworn
off poker, quit getting drunk, even tried
to worry along without cussing."

" But why all this virtue ? "

" Why, don't you see, you loon— you
pilgrim ? I'm in love ! "

" Oh."

" It was all for Kitty's sake."

" Who's Kitty ? "

"She's my girl. Say, do you know
old man Hewson — down to Idaho Flats ? "

"What, the capitalist who floated the
Grubstake Mine?"

" The same. A right smart silver pro-
position is the Grubstake. Why, I guess
the old man must be worth his cool five
millions now. Anyway, he's got six head
of young fillies, that there ain't the like
of west of the Bitter Root Mountains,
calkers, and away up at that."

"Blooded?"

" I should smile. Out of the very best
Virginian, and old man Silas ain't no
slouch of a sire. There's Kitty, Saph,
Matred, Nehushta, Zebudah, and Mehita-

wwWfW^

■^^■"^^«M>m^^>iii^pnvMiVHP

wmmfmmmmm

A COWBOY ON 'change 1 53

bel, all raised on the ranche, all tended
the same school at Wild Creek.**

" School ! '* I howled ; " do you mean
the man's daughters ? ''

"Weil, rather! Think Vd fallen in
love with one of his mares ? You see a
' man needs lots of wealth to pretend to
any of these girls, for Silas is like them
Old Testament chiefs who'd see lords and
dukes sniffling around the lodge, and let
the dogs at *em because they weren't kings.
She's too good anyway for a common
scrub cowboy like me. Oh, man, but
you should see her sit a bucking horse :
she's the west wind riding a cloud, with
the bright hair flying around her head,
and her eyes like stars. The broncho
tears up the ground, but she laughs as she
drives home the spur, and there's no fear
in her. I've fought two men for fooling
around her already — one with rifles on
horseback, he's in hospital ; the other
shooting at sight with guns, but I hunted
him out of the country."

Jack Brancepeth always was hand-
some, but now, as he laughed in tri-
umph, I felt that Miss Kitty had no
need to rue her choice, for this gallant.

154

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

simple, boyish lover had the fece of a
Galahad.

"Yes, that's why I've been trying to
keep straight. Why, I'd be a mangy
hermit if I could make myself good
enough for her. I tell you what, when
a man's got an option on such a piece as
Kitty Hewson, why it's worth while rust-
ling. But, as she said, the old man
would never let me have her unless I'd
lots of wealth. I've tried hard enough,
but then we'd been engaged more or less
for two whole years without my making
my pile."

"But," said I, "this doesn't seem to
have much bearing on the present
trouble."

" It hasn't, eh ? Well, you reach your
hand into the left pocket of my belt, and
you'll find her letters. There, that's
right ; now read the one on top.*'

So I found myself glancing over the
first of a batch of letters in a fine round
school-girl hand like a string full of knots.

"Dear Jack," wrote Kitty Hewson,
" if you want me don't be a fool. Here's
Pa favouring Daddy Longlegs, who wants

A COWBOY ON 'change 1 55

me awful bad. He' s given Daddy Long-
legs a straight tip how to make his for-
tune. Pa told him that they've just found
a tremendous lot of silver in the Grub-
stake mine; but the principal owners
are lying low, and saying bad things
about the mine until they can rope in all
the stock, whatever that means. Anyway,
they've broken down the pumps on pur-
pose to let the works get flooded, so as to
hide what they've found. Daddy Long-
legs has sense enough to speculate in
Grubstakes, you haven't. — Kitty."

" Yes," continued Jack, " Kitty's pretty
straight goods, and when she means a
thing she says it. If Daddy Longlegs
had a thousand dollars, I was worth two
thousand ; at least that's what I realized
in hard cash by selling my ranche to a
tenderfoot. So I rode down here to
Bitter Root City, went to Kitty's uncle,
Hi Hewson, the stockbroker, planked
down my roll of bills, and said : * Buy
Grubstakes.'

"*You hadn't ought to buy outright,'
says Hewson; *you should cover.'

" ' What's that ? " said I.

iS6

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

" * It means,' said he, * that you plank
down your money, I run the show; if
the stock goes up, I sell out when you
think that you're pretty well fixed for life ;
if the stock goes down two thousand
dollars' worth, you lose all you've got.'

"*ril gamble,' said I, *with all I can
hold down by sitting straddle.'

"Well, you should have seen the
brokers guying Hi Hewson in the Mining
Exchange, and afterwards I heard them
talking among themselves in the Coffee
Palace.

" * What,' says one Smart Aleck, ' you
think Hi Hewson's working for Silas, eh?
You must think Silas P. Hewson's gone
* loco ' ! The old man confessed only last
week to a friend of his'n that the mine's
played out. Why, the works are chuck
ablock with water, and no tunnelling
facilities to drain it ; the pumps have
broken down, and of real pay ore there
isn't a dollar in sight.'

" * A level head has old man Silas,' says
another; *as to Hi Hewson, he's roped
r a sucker who thinks he can gamble —
some fool of a cowboy, he says.'

" * There was another sucker last week,'

A COWBOY ON CHANGE

157

says Smart Aleck, * Daddy Longlegs they
call him — planked down a thousand dol-
lars on a falling market, he ! he ! Well,
he*s busted now, cover all run out.'

" At that they all drank a toast, * Long
live the suckers ; ' but, well, I laughed.

" Now read the second letter," said
Jack.

"YouVe a daisy," I read. "Daddy
Longlegs has come back dead broke, and
his language is just disgraceful. Hold
on, keep a tight hold on, Jack, for Pa
says he'll soon be letting the cat out of
the bag, so if the stock goes down any
more you must keep a good heart and
hold on.— Kitty."

" That's all right," said Jack, " but by
the time I got the letter on Monday
morning my cover was running out too.
Says Hi, * It's all your own fault ; you
never took the trouble to ask my advice,
or you wouldn't have bought till to-day ; '
but that was poor consolation, for I was
like to be as big a fool as Daddy Long-
legs, When the Exchange closed on
Monday, the Grubstake was quoted at

ipp^

w^m^^i

158

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

forty-three, and if it went a point lower
my two thousand dollars was lost. Read
the third letter."

" Hold on to the stock," I read. " You
needn't have been jealous of Daddy. He
ain't in it, never was, for I love you, old
boy. On Wednesday morning the news
will be in all the papers that the Grub-
stake was flooded on purpose to keep
the secret of a great bonanza ; your stock
will be worth a fortune. Hold on for
my sake, darling. Hold on for all you're
worth.— Kitty."

" At that I plucked up courage," said
Jack cheerfully, " sold my horse, saddle,
rifle, *shaps,' lariat, spurs, coat, watch,
everything ; and planked down the cash
with Hi Hewson. I could hold on now,
he told me, till the stock dropped to forty
and a half; but if it went below that I
was lost.

"On Tuesday I went to the Mining
Exchange Building with my heart in my
mouth. The stock opened at forty-three,
then a little was sold at forty-two^ and at
noon it stood at forty-one and a half.

A COWBOY ON CHANGE

159

u
e
d

P
k

Scared, almost crazy, I grabbed hold of
a reporter, stood the drinks, and loaded
him up with news. I told him to say in
his paper that the Hewson outfit was
bearing down the market, that Silas had
flooded the mine to hide his bonanza
until the moment came to shout But
the reporter made out that the next
edition came out at four o'clock, and the
Exchange closed at half-past three.

"*Get out the posters early,' I told
him, * bribe the printers, work the ropes
somehow, and if I win my game, I won't
forget you.'

"The reporter winked and started to
write out his news ; but when the market
opened again in the afternoon there
seemed to be no hope left, for the stock
was at forty-one and a quarter, with only
three-quarters of a point between me and
perdition.

"From where I stood in the public
gallery I saw the brokers whispering, for
a rumour had got wind from the printers
that made them crazy. Some of them
were offering forty-three, forty-four, even
up to fifty for Grubstake stock ; but there
wasn't a dollar for sale. Twas old Hew-

mt^

i6o

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

son's broker that started the counter
rumour making out that the newspaper
yam was some fool's canard — or else a
tale gotten up so that the holders could
sell out in a hurry. I was paralyzed when
the bidding stopped short ; I didn't
know one more move that could save the
game ; I was ready to kill myself.

" Hi Hewson sent up a clerk to say he
hated to see . me ruined — Vd better sell.
It was decent of him, but I told the clerk
to go to blazes, and further, before I'd
throw up my hand like a white-livered
coward.

"At three o'clock came a telegram
from Kitty that said, * Be brave. Pa has
bought all the stock he wants, and wired
his broker to quit * bearing.'

" Oh, man, but she was worth fighting
for. She's an angel out of heaven, and
I'd rather have died than broken faith
with her.

" The clock was going so slow that it
seemed to have stopped. Five past three,
ten past, quarter-past three ; the stock at
forty-one ! Twenty past three, twenty-
three past ! I was saying my prayers
with my revolver ready in my hand for

A COWBOY ON CHANGE

l6l

death if I lost the game. There was a
commotion down below in the hall — a
rumour was spreading through the crowd,
till it rippled up into the gallery, and I
heard the news : the Grubstake Syndi-
cate bankrupt !

** I knew it could only be a lie gotten
up by old Hewson's broker. I knew that
in another moment the newspaper posters
would be fastened up at the door. I
knew that if the market held still another
three minutes I'd saved my game.

" The fool at the blackboard was mark-
ing the closing prices on Tigers, Poorman,
Coeur d'Alene Limited, Eagle of Mur-
derer's Bar, Grubstake. He'd wiped out
the old figures to write down Grubstake
at the price of a bankrupt mine ; the
brokers were yelling like demons; the
place shook with the uproar ; the clock
ticked at twenty-nine past ; the fool was
writing the figures that meant ruin —
despair— death !

" Raising my gun I fired right at his
fingers, missed, fired again, but the fool
was gone. I fired again and again, then
once again, and flung my revolver at the
blackboard across an empty hall. Yes,

l62

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

i !

I'd stampeded the brokers, I'd stampeded
the whole confounded bunch — the ruck
of them was screeching with panic
against the doors — and I stood alone in
the gallery. The game was won !

"What matter if I did get excited?
What matter if I did knock a few deputy
marshals out of the gallery ? What
matter if I did damage a city official — or
a dozen — or scores ?

" The news is out ; IVe won me a wife
and a fortune ; I'm boss of the Range ;
and Kitty shall live like a queen because
I love her — because I've loved her like a
man—and she's mine ! "

EPILOGUE

DAYBREAK

TOLD BV BILLY

I REGRET to record that the middle
part of this narrative, some seventy pages
in manuscript, was stolen by the Tender-
foot during the occasional weeks when it
was his turn to look after the fire. If
that wretched young man had not been
able to sleep through cold incredible,
showers of boots, and clouds of impreca-
tion, the fire would scarcely have needed
kindling ; but regrets are useless. Pro-
bably no publisher could have been bribed
to print that part of the manuscript ; but
one feels an irritation on being reminded
of the fact, which the most copious
thrashings of the young gentleman in
question have altogether failed to allay.
This note was necessary to account for

163

"■t'^TW'

164

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

an hiatus otherwise likely to have both
puzzled and annoyed the reader.

Since the Stranger's coming the Hon-
ourable Larry had taken a " half-interest "
in my blanket. How he kicked in his
sleep ! When he dreamed, my shins
would be blue with bruises ; if he snored,
the Captain's missiles never failed to hit
me, because of my greater bulk, and after
he woke up the youngster always reviled
me for taking more than my share of our
scanty covering. That morning I dreamed
of home until in drowsy abstraction he
pulled my hair, swore at me in murmurs,
crowded me against the sharp edge of the
bunk, and finally began to growl.

" Sleep ! What do you want with sleep ?
YouVe snored like a tug in a fog ever
since midnight. Fat lot of rest I get —
wish I was tinned beef with a tin all to
myself, and a red label * Pastured on the
Prairies — to be well warmed before open-
ing.'"

There could be no advantage in pitch-
ing him out of the bunk — for that with
the Tenderfoot was hardly ever conducive
to peace. So he went on : " The Honour-
able Larry Wych-Bradwardine, that's

atxassssttaa

EPILOGUE

165

h
e

what I am, stuck in a beastly hole under-
ground, fed on three cranberries a day,
with the joyful expectation of a fish-tail
for dinner to-morrow. Of course I growl !
There's that confounded Yankee, heave a
boot at him. Why — " The boot struck
fair, but as it so happened the Colonel's
bunk was empty. "He must have gone
out. Last night he won the last of our gold
from Jim — Jim's a fool. Fat lot of use
being a prospector when a Yankee comes
along with a taste for poker. Who says
I growled? I never said he cheated !
What I do say is that the luck's gone the
way of our meat — we've swallowed it.
Now what I—

" Gentlemen ! " the Stranger stumped
ponderously into the shanty, leaving the
door wide open.

" Were you born in a barn ? " the Cap-
tain shrieked at him. " Shut the door ! "

" Captain, I'll go you one better. Shut
the door? Why, don't you feel it — the
south wind? Out of your bunks, boys,
for the snow is steaming- wet ! Gentlemen,
this makes me feel real good, so I'm
going to quit the cripple business right
now — here goes for Freedom ! "

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THF ARCTIC NIOHT

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^:;»

He broke his crutches with the axe
and flun^ the splintered fragments into
the hearth.

" Now," yawned Jim, ** what a kindling
that would make if we only had a break-
fast to cook."

''Don't talk about it," answered the
Tenderfoot miserably. ^' Breakfast "--he
tightened his belt — " is a myth."

'^ Gentlemen," said the Colonel blandly,
" have I the ear of tnc house ? "

'* He wants our ears now ! "

*' We're too hungry for the decencies of
discussion, or I'd break that youngster's
head. Let's come down to facts." He
hauled out from under his bunk, bag after
Ixig, a hundredweight of gold. " See
here — Jim may be virtuous—he may be
beautiful, his heart is immense — but he
can't play poker."

The Captain growled.

"Yes, maybe I've gotten more hearts
than one sore against me, seeing that I
never mined an ounce in Scurvy Gulch.
I came here prospecting for mammoth
ivory, I've located several cargoes, each
v;orth a gold mine ; anyway, I didn't
come meanderhsg around the Barren

EPILOGUE

167

Grounds for gold, and I've no disposition
to cumber my hunting with a sleigh load
of specie ; but you gentlemen are partners
— share up your earnings now like white
men, while I stand referee to see fair
play."

" Boys," said the Tenderfoot hoarsely,
" the Colonel saved us from scurvy and
being turned into cold bones, and all that
sort of thing, don't you know. Now I
vote he stands in with us as a partner —
or be hanged if I'll take a pennyworth of
that dust— I — I mean if you don't mind,
just to oblige us, Colonel Gig — Gig —
Giggleswick."

" And all that sort of thing, don't-cher-
know !" said Jim derisively, upon which
the Tenderfoot went for him with his
belt.

The Stranger took a long time to be per-
suaded—he was actually blushing ! — ^but
in the end the gold was divided into five
portions, and we threw dice for the choice
of them.

We wcie still seated in council o^•er
the gold, when the clatter of dice and
uproar of talk were interrupted by a loud
call, a yelping of dogs, a mighty jangle of

ppwj!? ,k ' nw^^ . ,''■■* "^"

i68

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

bells. In an instant we had kicked away
our seats and were jostling around or
over the table, but before even the Ten-
derfoot could cross the cumbered floor a
big man darkened the doorway.

"Hurroar boys — are you still alive?
Happy New Year to you. How's every-
thing ? What I don't you know me,
BiUy?"

" Eric ! "

" That's me — got anything to eat ? "

We looked at him in horror, we who
had starved en short rations these last
two months — another mouth to feed !

** Hustle, Kid," said brave old Jim,
** never mind the Captain — you're caterer
this week — don't weigh the rations — a
good square meal ! "

The Captain began grov/ling.

" Boys," said I, ** let me introduce my
old friend Eric."

" Mr. Eric," quoth the Colonel, with a
great warm grip of the hand, " glad to
make your acquaintance, sir." The rest
of them were holding back from a mere
half-breed. "Off with them wet mocca-
sins — we'll 3ee to your dogs."

" Thanks," said Eric simply ; " now if

EPILOGUE

169

you fellows will help unload the carriole,
IVe brought two hundredweight of pem-
mican from Fort Silence."

There was no stiffness now in the half-
breed's reception.

" Here, Mr. Billy," said Eric, when the
others had gone out to unload, ** this will
explain — a letter from Mr. d'Anvers."

"My dear Billy," I read, " I have
been a little uneasy as to you outlying
parishioners of mine, so now send north-
ward a supply of provisions by way of
thankoffering for the sunrise. My bi-
annual mail reached me this winter,
which will account for letters herewith,
also a newspaper of May 3rd last.

" By the way, some Indians brought up
a letter from the south which I sent on
last summer per one Giggleswick, appar-
ently insane, who had left a whaler at the
Mackenzie Delta to go hunting for mam-
moth ivory. He may have called on you,
if still living. The letter in question was
for Master Larry of the long name, whose
parents, the Earl and Countess of Brad-
wardine, have been searching the planet
for him these last three years. It seems
that he fell in love with a curate's daugh-

■

170

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

ter, but after what has happened they
would rather consent to the engagement
than have their son continue in my parish.
As I am leaving here soon for my year's
furlough, I shall be glad of the lad's com-
panionsliip on the long trail, so trusting
that you will not detain Eric, but send
this precious consignment with hhn by
return of post,

" I am, yours sincerely,

"John d'Anv5:rs."

Never was there a more jovial dinner
than that which we discussed during the
few hours of adulterated darkness we
were pleased to describe as a day. Real
tea we had, veritable smgar,and condensed
milk^ tinned beef, sahnon, and plum-
pudding; and fine old pemmican, rich
with berries and herbs. " Poor Tender-
foot," sighed Jim, "banisbed from all
this! Come, try anotlier siunmer in
Scurvy Gulch ! "

" Vm for GxKi's country," the lad's eyes
reddened; *'1'11 punch your head if you
talk of Scurvy Gulch. " Then with a lieart-
broken laugh be left the table to pile more
logs on the fire. Now that all opposition

EPILOGUE

171

ed they
gement
' parish.
y year's
I's com-
Tusting
It send
iinn by

dinner
ng the
ss we
Real
lensed
plum-
rich
rnder-
m all
er in

eyes
you

iearl>
more
ition

was ended, his love for the curate's
daughter seemed strangely chilled. Was
it possible that the spell of the North was
upon him ?

"Why confound you/' he argued, " I'm
going back to live with white men —
besides — demmit — ain't I going to be
married?" Then, brushing his wrist
across his eyes, " I'll live in God's
country with white men ; 111 have a
wife — and family — and I wish I was
dead ! "

"My God's country,'^ grumbled the
Captain, " is the blasted sea."

" Mine's in the Bitter Root Mountains,"
— Jim*s voice was very low, — "with my
old woman — and there'll be three kids
now,"

The Colonel laughed. "My God's
country is the Land of the Almighty
Dollar, anH don't you forget it."

" Mine's Piccadilly ! " squeaked the
Kid, now quite recovered, for lie was
consoling Jim with both fists.

" And yours, Eric } "

"The North ** — his deep eyes were look-
ing out as though across the distances of
the white tundras— "the great North."

172

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

" Mine too," said I, clasping his hand,
"for God's Own Country is not so far
away."

What an afternoon that was ! All hazy
in a divine cloud of tobacco, we sat round
our one sputtering home-made candle —
the Captain doubled up in a comer, with
spectacles and the newspaper, reading
aloud last May's telegrams, advertise-
ments, editorials, births, deaths, and
marriages ; Eric sewing up his skin
breeches for to morrow's journey, while
he told me in *vhispers of a little woman
waiting for him on the Saskatchewan ;
the Stranger expansive and full of en-
thusiasm about mammoth, mastodons,
wood-buffalo — or, for all I heard, unicorns
and sea-serpents. So the day wore on
until, after supper, Eric, with broad smiles
of triumph, produced a bottle of Hudson's
Bay rum — sent by the humane d'Anvers-^
which was presently translated into a
gorgeous brew of rum punch. The night
resounded with song and chorus ; we had
step-dancing by Jim ; then came horse-
play, which ended in a general onslaught
upon the Tenderfoot for slipping icicles
down the Stranger's neck.

■pp

mmm

mmmmmmm

EPILOGUE

s hand,
so far

Vll hazy

t round

indle —

sr, with

reading

vertise-

;, and

s skin

, while

woman

lewan ;

of en-

odons,

icorns

>re on

smiles

dson's

^ers^-

ito a

night

e had

orse-

lught

:icles

Next morning Eric and the Kid pre-
pared for their trip to Fort Silence. Of
course the half-breed could not possibly
have made the winter journey of five
hundred miles with the provisions of one
dog-train ; but he had wisely left his
party of Indians in a base camp at the
three-hundredth mile, so that on the
return they would be reinforced, and pro-
ceed thence in comfort to their journey's
end. Fort Silence, the last permanent
outpost of mankind, is some two thousand
miles from the nearest railroad — indeed,
d'Anvers and Larry must travel for many
a hard month before parting with Eric on
the banks of the Saskatchewan where the
civilized world begins.

It was nearly noon when, with the
carriole loaded, dogs lying in harness and
everything ready for a start, the half-
breed asked us to join him for once in
prayer. The Captain protested with a
growl, but the Stranger gravely spread
his red handkerchief in the snow, just as
the Arab unfolds a prayer-carpet on his
native desert. " See here," he said, " I
don't take much stock in religion as you

174

THE ARCTIC NIGHT

know, but I guess it's above scoffing at,
and the Rev. Mr. d'Anvers wishes this
anyways ; so, Mr. Eric, I'm with you."
The Tenderfoot giggled, Jim shifted
uneasily* from foot to foot, the Captain
backed into the shanty.

" Boys," said I, " if the Almighty hadn't
sent us help this winter we should not be
alive now. Let's give thanks for our
lives."

" Eric," said Jim, with a queer gulp in
his throat, " you're damn well right. Come,
Tenderfoot ! "

So they both knelt with us in the
snow.

Through the tail of one eye I could see
into the darkness of the shanty where the
Captain was standing with bent head,
irresolute; but presently he went down
on his knees, his whole frame shaken with
strong emotion, and I thought I heard
something like a sob.

Then Eric lifted up his hands to the
grey of the dawn, pleading with the
Master of Life for mercy upon His little
children, who all the winter had wrestled
with Death in the Barren Grounds, who

EPILOGUE

I7S

mg at,
es this
L you."
shifted
)aptaui

hadn't
not be
or our

julp in
Come,

In the

lid see

^e the

head,

down

m with

heard

the
the
little
estled
who

still must wander along lonely trails fight-
ing with spiritual Dangers, until the light
streaming through the doors of God's
Hostel should welcome the traveller to
his Rest

And while he prayed the stars were
melted from the terrible brows of Night
—of Arctic Night ; the snows of the
tundra became like amethyst ; the firma-
ment was suffused with roseate glow, the
little clouds were changed to living
fire.

A deep silence fell upon all the earth.
Far away in the distances of the southern
sky, where the azure melted into pale
translucent green, there hung a range of
clouds like mountains, violet — molten at
the base — incandescent — blazing with
ruby light ; and the edge of the world was
gold like unto clear glass. Then, as it
were upon the pavement of heaven, there
arose a little hill of burning splendour to
prove to us poor mites that we were not
utterly forgotten.

" Hurrah, boys I " cried the Tenderfoot,
while the lash roused the team of squeal-
ing dogs, and Eric jumped on the carriole

ijip\ -y ,

^4 . .

TH£ ARCTIC NIGHT

— s.** Home, boys, home— for England,
^ine^ . and Beauty ! Home, boys,

fbinc!"

Home? The darkness was settling
down again as we turned back into the
cabin.

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