The enterprise. [volume] (Harlem, Mont.) 1899-1926, 1911-06-01

Poor brown devils-and yet-Stand by
now, and If you feel yourself Gavin,
bite that cigar like a mink trap and
work away. Mustn't bungle this!"
We remained for a moment in the
shadow of the silent mill to rehearse
the lob" about to be perpetrated.
The Indians rudely-curtained hut win
dow cleaned family red-a bleared
eye in the dark void. We knocked.
A menacing grunt and a shifting of
moccasined feet withdrawing more
hospitable.
'"The doctor, with food and medi-
cine. Let me in" We let ourselves
into the hut before the Indian had
arisen from the floor.
The hut reeked with the foul stencil
peculiar to the domestic conditions Of
nomad Indians in this region.
We lured the Indian outside. Our
return from pestilence to the cold,
sweet air of the Alaskan forest, intox-
icated me.
The doctor began menacingly:
"Why didn't you ride out on the morn
ing tide? You said you would last
night. You lied and, damn you, en-
dangered the health of the whole
camp. You've got twenty minutes to
paddle off with your family or get
shot"
The Indian replied sullenly as he
moved toward the canoe upon the
beach. "SQuaw too sick. Hunt for
meat all day. go when the water
sleeps-mebbe soonly." He turned de.
family with clenched fists.
See here, Thlinkit, you've come
into this camp with what miners
would shoot you for. I've given you
two days to clear out at the risk Of
injecting our men and wrecking the
mine for three months. I've got
| twenty men in the shadow of that
mill ready to pound you into pulp
when my gun barks. You understan'?
Now, We'll do this quietly or We'll do
1t fighting" Saying which the doctor
drew his pistol while I entered the
hut and seized the Indians rifle.
A long dory-like canoe was torn
from the thin ice into which 1t lay
bedded. The brutal duty was under
way.
The squaw. whose disease had ad.
vanced to the stage of dessication,
opened her terrible eyes-eyes sunk.
en- and deliquescent.
Go six miles down the coast: you'll
find fresh water and game a-plenty.
Set your traps, and wait for the COM
pany's launch to pass on her way out.
Paddle out to meet her when you hear
her whistle-four days hence. II you
attempt to land within this inlet, I'll
sink your boat with a shot. Now,
then, heave off,"
Having given his commands, the
doctor Joined in some mighty showing
and cussing to get the boat away;
the Indians reluctant paddle caught
the water lazily. and the deeply laden
craft of disease and death, and hatred
Of the white man, finally pointed her
angular nose toward an unknown and
doubtful fate. l looked around for
Doc, before setting the hut aflre and
burning the last vestige Of the case
that had worried him. He was not
ashore. He had vanished like a ghoul
from the Indians dying fire. l he'll
loed softly, and, gazing toward the
disappearing boat-descried his squat
figure with a paddle in the bow!
Was it possible? Yes, there he was
and from there he called to me this
weird adieu: Good night, old chap.
We've done d-n fine job; but I'm
going to finish it alone. Send canoe
after me day after tomorrow. or pick
me up when the Mary Ann puts out to
sea. If I'm infected, I'll hang my
pink shirt high in fir tree near the
beach, and don't you come within a
hundred feet of me. II I'm all right,
Ill get aboard and see you OF for