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The third member of the party, Bill Wilson, or Big Bill as they called him, came in with a hundred-and-forty-pound pack; and what Tarwater esteemed to be a very rotten breakfast was dished out by Charles. The mush was half cooked and mostly burnt, the bacon was charred carbon, and the coffee was unspeakable.
Twice Old Tarwater essayed to rise and go on, and each time, warned by his shakiness, sank back to recover more strength. From around the boulder he heard voices in greeting, recognized Charles Crayton's voice, and realized that at last they had met up with Young Liverpool.
Like a man in fever, waking to intervals of consciousness, so Old Tarwater awoke, cooked his moose-meat, and fed the fire; but more and more time he spent in his torpor, unaware of what was day-dream and what was sleep-dream in the content of his unconsciousness.
He's got a say so, and he isn't here to say it." "What kind of a party might he be?" Tarwater inquired. "He's a rough-neck sailor, and he's got a quick, bad temper." "Some turbulent," Anson contributed. "And the way he can cuss is simply God-awful," Big Bill testified. "But he's square," Big Bill added. Anson nodded heartily to this appraisal.
Some went mad, and still others, under the irk of the man-destroying strain, broke partnerships and dissolved life-time friendships with fellows just as good as themselves and just as strained and mad. Work! Old Tarwater could shame them all, despite his creaking and crackling and the nasty hacking cough he had developed.
Tarwater coughed and shivered for a space, ere he could get freedom of breath for speech. "Son," he said, "I just want to tell you one thing. I drove my four yoke of oxen across the Plains in Forty-nine and lost nary a one. I drove them plumb to Californy, and I freighted with them afterward out of Sutter's Fort to American Bar. Now I'm going to Klondike.
"The time's past for you to cut and run for a place like the Klondike, and singing won't buy you nothing." "Just the same," he answered quietly. "I bet I could go to that Klondike place and pick up enough gold to buy back the Tarwater lands." "Old fool!" Annie contributed. "You couldn't buy them back for less'n three hundred thousand and then some," was William's effort at squelching him.
"Well, boys," Old Tarwater answered, "and thanking you kindly, all I can say is that a hundred thousand will do nicely, and very nicely, for a starter. Of course, I ain't goin' to stop till I get the full three hundred thousand. That's what I come into the country for." They laughed and applauded his ambition and reckoned they'd have to hunt a richer creek for him.
Out of the north, across the full sweep of the great lake, blew an unending snow gale. Three mornings they put out and fought it and the cresting seas it drove that turned to ice as they fell in- board. While the others broke their hearts at the oars, Old Tarwater managed to keep up just sufficient circulation to survive by chopping ice and throwing it overboard.
The Big and Little Salmon rivers were throwing mush-ice into the main river as they passed, and, below the riffles, anchor- ice arose from the river bottom and coated the surface with crystal scum. Night and day the rim-ice grew, till, in quiet places, it extended out a hundred yards from shore. And Old Tarwater, with all his clothes on, sat by the stove and kept the fire going.
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