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Updated: June 5, 2025
We found thim frozen. . . . A blizzard had shprung up, but we shtrapped th' stiffs on th' sled an' mushed ut oursilves tu save th' dogs. "I am a big man, an' shtrong . . . . but Yorkey was th' betther man av us tu that night havin less weight tu pack. I was all in dhrowsy, an' wanted tu give up th' ghost an' shleep an' shleep. . . . Nigh unto death I was. . . ." The murmuring voice died away.
Its stove had rotted away years since; it contained neither food nor blankets nor furniture, yet it was a shelter against the night and the cold. And even now it was within half a mile of where he stood. Exultant and thankful, Bill turned in his tracks and mushed over toward it. There was plenty of heart-breaking work to do when Bill finally reached the little cabin.
Ordinarily his sharp eyes would have discerned it long before: perhaps the same inner spirit, encountered before this eventful day, was trying to protect him still. He turned without a word, and no man could have read the expression on his wind-tanned face. He mushed slowly on to his journey's end. It was a new cabin, just erected, and smoke drifted faintly from its chimney.
In his time he had mushed in Alaska, fought in Mexico, driven stage at the Nevada gold-fields, and wandered into many a lawless camp. Always he had answered the call of adventure regardless of where it led. His thoughts were fugitive, inconsequent. Now they had to do with Daisy Ellington, the New York chorus girl whose mobile, piquant face was helping to make the Lunar reels popular.
There was just a possibility that the fugitive might have caught sight of them and be preparing an unwelcome surprise. But it was a possibility that did not look like a probability. "Something gone 'way off in his plans," Morse said after they had mushed on the south trail for an hour. "Looks like he don't know what he's doing. Has he gone crazy?" "Might be that. Men do in this country a lot.
A man named Fred Tague pushed to the front. He kept a feed corral near the edge of town. "I can tell you one man who mushed out before five o'clock this morning and that's Gid Holt." The eyes of Macdonald, cold and hard as jade, fastened to the man. "How do you know?" "That dog team he bought from Tim Ryan Well, he's been keeping it in my corral. When I got there this morning it was gone.
Nor would he have guessed that less than two short months before this girl had been a skin-clad native of the North who had mushed for thirty days unattended through the heart of the barren grounds.
Rasmunsen made a rapid calculation. "Twelve thousand dollars," he said aloud. "Hey?" the man asked. "Nothing," he answered, and MUSHED the dogs along. When he arrived at Stewart River, seventy from Dawson, five of his dogs were gone, and the remainder were falling in the traces. He, also, was in the traces, hauling with what little strength was left in him.
The snow was quite a foot deep, with a crust on top which we broke at almost every step, and which made it hard walking. On we "mushed," past the cliff, the boats, and out upon the ice. The traps had been set by Mollie a week before on the northeast shore of the bay among a few low bushes, and this was our objective point.
Twist," she called shrilly, "if you don't come in right away and have your food before it gets all mushed up with cold I guess you'll be sorry." "All right coming," he called back very loud and cheerfully, striding towards her as one strides who knows there is nothing for it now but courage. "All right, Mrs. Bilton sorry if I've kept you waiting. You shouldn't have bothered about me "
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