The record-union. [volume] (Sacramento, Calif.) 1891-1903, 1898-01-10

toner's. She has been ailing for a long
time. Yes" in answer to Campbelfs
question, tits the same old story. Con-
sumption, that dread disease which so
closely follows in the wake of civiliza-
ton when brought to this northern
CLINE, is carrying her off, as it will in
evitably carry them all off sooner or
later" He moved toward the door as
he spoke
Good bye; don't wait up for me if /
am gone too long; Ivan will show you
Your room," and the next moment he
was gone swallowed up in the blackness
of the bowling wind and rain.
CHAPTER II.
A trackless waste of desolate snow
covered the plain. AS far as the eye
can reach it lies in one sheet of undi-
minished whiteness. The monotony Of
the landscape is broken here and there
by row after row of low lying hills,
their SUBMITS cleaning in the star
llght like so many diamonds. All about
reigns the awful impenetrab BILE silence
of the Arctic; silence so intense that
1t has driven more than one intrepid
northern traveller to insanity and death.
Presently across the frosty surface of
the snow is heard the sharp cracking
CT long whips interspersed with hoarse
gutteral cries. The sounds approach
ever nearer and nearer until finally the
short body of native comes into sight.
he is running abreast of the team of
dogs who are pulling the sleigh in which
Campbell sits, and urges them ON with
blows and cries. Darkness is coming
on swiftly and they decide to camp
here for the night. The native builds
fire in the snow before which he pre-
pares the evening meal. When it is
finished and While Campbell is eating
he throws the hungry dogs a piece of
raw meat which they quarrel over vic
lously and when it is gulped down
stretch themselves to sleep in the snow.
Campbells thoughts are far away. He
is thinking that in a short time, per-
| haps only few days, he will reach
| Fort Yukon, there he Will meet the mail
carrier. Never for moment does the
man doubt but that he will get a let
| ter and never for moment does he
! doubt what the contents of that letter
will be. Dear Little Faith" he muir
murs aloud. AS he thinks of her the
| Whole expression of his face changes
and softens. IT has been almost a
year, he thinks, since he last heard from
| her. But he has carried the letter with
| him ever since; it is one of his most
! cherished possessions. He takes the
bit of crumpled paper from his pocket,
and by the Pickering fire light reads
again the loving words of cheer and
comfort her dear hand has penned. He
almost knows each word and phrase by
| heart so often has he read and re-read
them. AT the thought of another let
| ter impatience possesses his soul. The
| intervening days between him and the
| qualification of his desire seem like in
| terminable ages. In a frenzy of i'm
patience he PAGES up and down in the
| snow. He has forgotten his surround
| ings; he no longer heeds the piercing
cold. He brings all the power of his
| mind to dwell upon her, and as he does
| so once more he sees her, tall and
| slim and golden haired; so life-li7xe is
| the vision that he involuntarily
| stretches his arms toward her as though
to clasp her to his heart, but only the
empty air greets his caresses. Impa-
| tIently he retraces his steps toward the
tent the native has erected during his
absence, and rolling himself in his mink
skin blanket he falls asleep.
For many days after this he travels
over the country. The way is long
and tedious and their passage is often
blocked for days at time by the on
slaughts of fierce mountain storms
which more than once threaten COM
plete humiliation. Many days he is
compelled to sit idly in his tent and
watch the falling of the snow. He
read and smoked all day, and when it
grew dark he slept. In sleep one can
always find a merciful oblivion. In
the night the snow would drift high
over the tent and they would have to
dig their way out. This grew to be
q daily occurrence.
At last, after days and weeks and
months of this existence, Campbell
made up his mind that he would stand
IL no longer and in spite of the protesta
! tons of his guide resolved to push on
at all hazards. In after years he new
i er thought of the perils of that Journey
/ TO Fort Yukon without a shudder:
many time he felt as though he
would like to lie down in the snow and
! die, but his love and expectancy car
ried him through what would have been
| almost certain death to another.
! Reaching Fort Yukon the sight of
/ the blue coated mail carrier was al
! most too much for him. His courage
! deserted him and he could hardly frame
/ the words upon his lips His heart
/ pounded against his ribs like a trip
! hammer as the carrier with painful de-
| liberation searched through his BAD
! When the familiar envelope was given
/ him his hand trembled so that he al
/ most dropped it in the snow. He went
straight to his room and opened it, He
/ sat upon the edge of the bed with a
! happy light on his face. but as he read
/ the light faded, and a blank stony des-
pair took possession of his soul He
| was compelled to read 1t many times
/ before its full meaning came upon him
with all of it's crushing force. 1t told
| him that she was tired of waiting for
1 him; that as she saw no immediate
! prospect of betterment for him in a
! financial way, she thought that the
/ best thing would be for them TO part
| But the unkndest cut Of all was when
/ in closing she incidentally remarked
| that an old friend of her family's. a
man whom she had known since child
hood a man reputed TO be rich in the