The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1907-09-08

other side He could see nothing near
at hand, but he waited patiently.
Again came the shuttle and cough, and
outlined between two jagged rocks, not
a score of feet away, he made out the
gray head of a wolf The sharp ears
were not pricked so sharply as he had
seen them on other wolves; the eyes
were bleared and bloodshot, the head
seemed to droop Imply and forlornly.
The animal blinked continually in the
sunshine. 1t seemed sick. AS he look
ed 1t snuffled and coughed again.
This, at least, was real, he thought,
and turned on the other side so that
he might see the reality of the world
which had been yelled from him be-
fore by the vision. But the sea still
shone in the distance, and the ships
spars were plainly discernible. Was it
reality after all? He closed his eyes
for a long while and thought, and then
it came to him. He had been making
north by east, away from the Dease
divide and into the Coppermine valley.
This wide and sluggish river was the
Coppermine. That shining sea was the
Arctic ocean. That ship was a whaler,
stTayed east, far east, from the mouth
of the Mackenzie, and it was lying at
anchor in Coronation gulf. He re-
membered the Hudson Bay company
chart he had seen long ago, and 1t was
all clear and reasonable to him.
He sat up and turned his attention to
immediate affairs. He had worn
through the ket-wrappings, and his
feet were like shapeless Jumps of raw
meat. tbs last blanket was gone.
Rifle and knife were both missing. He
had lost his hat somewhere, with the
| bunch of matches in the band, but the
matches against his chest were safe
and dry inside the tobacco pouch and
oiled paper. He looked at his watch. 1t
marked II o'clock and was still run
ming. Evidently he had kept it wound
He was calm and collected. Though
extremely weak he had no sensation OF
pain. He was not hungry. The thought
] Of food was not even pleasant to him.
and whatever he did was done by his
reason alone. He ripped off his pants
legs to the knees and bound them
about his feet Somehow he had sue
ceeded in retaining the tin bucket. He
would have some hot water before he
| began what he foresaw was to be a
| terrible journey to the ship.
His movements were slow. He shook
as with a palsy. When he started tC
/ collect dry moss he found he could not
rise to his feet. He tried again and
| again, then contented himself with
|
| once he CraWled near to the sick wolf
The animal dragged itself reluctantly
out Of his way, licking its chops with
a tongue which seemed hardly to have
| the strength to curl. The man noticed
/ that the tongue was not the customary
healthful red. 1t was a yelIowish
brown and seemed coated with a rough
and half-dry mucus.
After he had drunk a quart of hot
water the man found he was able to
stand, and even to walk as well as a
dying man might be supposed to walk
Every minute or so he was compelled
to rest. His steps were feeble and un-
certain, Just as the VOLTS that trailed
him were feeble and uncertain: and
that night, when the shining sea was
blotted out by blackness, he knew he
was nearer to 1t by no more than four
miles.
Throughout the night he heard the
| cough of the sick wolf, and now and
then the squawking of the caribou
calves. There was life all around him
but it was strong life, very much alive
and well, and he knew the sick wolf
chung to the sick mans trail in the
hope that the man would die first. In
the morning, on opening his eyes, he
beheld it regarding him with a wistful
and hungry stare. 1t stood crouched
with tail between its legs, like a mis-
cradle and woe-begone dog. 1t shiver-
ed in the chill morning wind, and grin
ned dispiritedly when the man spoke
to it in a voice which achieved Nc
more than a hoarse whisper.
The sun rose brightly, and all morn
ing the man tottered and fell toward
the ship on the shining sea. The
weather was perfect. 1t was the 'briei
Indian summer of the high latitudes
1t might last a week Tomorrow OF
next day it might be gone.
In the afternoon the man came upon
a trail. 1t was of another man, VIII