Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-12-21


night, and he burrowed himself great
hole in the soft snow and filled it with
balsam boughs for a bed. When ne
awakened, hours later, he stood up and
| thrust out his head, and found himself
| buried to the armpits With the aid OF
his broad snowshoes he drew himself
| out, until he stood knee deep in the sur
face.
He lifted his pack. AS he swung 1t be-
fore him, one arm thrust through strap.
| he gave startled cry. Half of one side
of the pack was eaten away!
He thrust his hands through the breach.
and a moan of despair sobbed on his lips
when he found that his food was gone.
A thin trickle of flour ran through his
| fingers upon the snow. He pulled out a
gnawed pound of bacon, a little tea-and
| that was all.
Frantically he ripped the rent wider in
his search, and when he stood up, his wild
| face staring into the chaos about him,
| he held only the bit of bacon in his hand.
| In 1T were the imprints of tiny teeth
sharp little raZor-edged. teeth that told
him what had happened. While he had
| slept a mink had robbed him of his food.
With one of his shoes he began digging
furiouSly in the snow. He tore his balSam
| bed to pieces. OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES
| not very far away-the little animal must
| have cached its theft. He dug down until
| he came to the frozen earth. For an hour
| he worked and found nothing.
Then he stopped. Over small fire ne
melted snow for tea and broiled slice of
| the bacon, which he ate with the few bis
cult crumbs he found in the pack. Every
| particle of flour that he could find he
| scraped up with his knife and put into
one of the deep pockets of his caribou
coat. After that he set out in the direc-
ton in which he thought he would find
| Lac Balm.
| Still he shouted for Dixon and fired an
occasional shot from his rife. By noon
| he should have struck the lake. Noon
| came and passed: the gloom of a second
| night fell upon him. He built himself a
| fire and ate two-thirds of what remained
| of the bacon. The handful of flour i'll his
| pocket he did not disturb.
| 1t was still night when he broke his rest
| and struggled on. His first fears were
gone. In place of them there filled him
| now a grim sort of pleasure. A second
| time he was battling with death for Me-
| 1isse. And this. after all, was not very
| hard fight for him. He had feared death
| in the red plague, but he did not fear the
| thought of this death that threatened him
| in the big SHOWS. 1t thrilled him, instead.
with a strange sort of exhilaration. III
he died it would be for Melissa, and for
| all time she would remember him for
what he had done.
| When he ate the last bit of his bacon
he made up his mind what he would do
when the end came. In the stock of his
rifle he would stratch q few last words
to Melissa. He even arranged the words
in his brain-four of them" Melissa,
love you"r He repeated them to himSe
as he staggered on, and that night be-
side the fire he built, he began by carving
her name.
Tomorrow" he said softly. II will do
the rest
He was growing very hungry. but he
did not touch the flour. For six hours he
slept and then drank his fill of hot tea.
I'VE will travel until day. Jan Tho
reau.' he informed himself. land then.
il nothing turns up. we Will build our last
camp and eat the -four. 1t will be the
la ST of us. for there will be no meat above
this snow for days.
His SnoWShoes were an impeachment
now. and he left them behind. along with
one of his two blankets. which had grown
to be like lead upon his shoulders. He
counted his cartridgeS-ten of. them. one
of these he fired into the air.
Was that an echo he heard?
A sudden thrill shot through him. He
strained his ears to catch a repetition of
the sound. In moment it came again
clearly no echo this time.
'Iedoq.' he cried aloud.
He fired again.
Back to hin, came the distant. splitting
crack of a rifle. He forced his way to-
ward it. After a little he heard the sig
ma again. much nearer than before. and
he fired in RESPONSE. A few hundred
wards farther on he came to low noun
tain ridge, and lifted his voice in a loud
shout \ shot came from just over the
mountain.
Waist deep in the light snow he began
the ascent. DRAGGING himself up by the
tops of the slender saelings, stopping
every few yards to half stretch himself
out i'm the soft mass through which he
was struggling. painting with exhaustion
Il Az 4,
ridge Up through the white blur of snow
on the other side there came to him faint
ly a shout: vet. in spite of its faintness.
Jan knew that it was verv near.
"Somethin@ has hanpened to LedOn."
he told himself 'but he surely has food
and we can live it out until the storm is
over.
1t was easier going down the ridge, and
he went quickly i'll the direction from
which the voice had come. until d mass
of huge powders loomed UP before him.
There was faint odor of smoke in the
air. and he followed it in among the
rocks. where it grew stronger
.'Ho Ledoq. he shouted.
A voice replied a dozen yards away.
Slowly, as he advanced. he made out the
dim shadow of life in the white gloom
a bit of smoke climbing weakly in the
Storm the black opening of brush
shelter-and then. between the opening
and the spiral of smoke. living thing
that came creeping toward him on all
tours, like an animal.
He plunged toward it. and the shadow
staggered upward, and would have fallen
had it not been for the support of the
deep snow. Another step and sharp cry
fell from JAMS lips. 1t was not Ledoq
but Dixon, who stood there with white.
starved face and staring eyes, in the
snow gloom!
my God, am starving-and dying for
drink Of water!" gasped the English
man. chokingly. thrustn" out his arms.
'''Thoreau, God be praised
He staggered and fell in the snow. Jan
dragged him back to the shelter.
II will have water for you-and some
thing to eat-very soon.'' he said.
His voice sounded unreal There was a
mistiness before his eyes which was not
caused by the storm, a twisting of strange
shadows that bothered his vision, and
made him sway diZzily when he threw
off his pack to stir the fire. He suspended
which he coaxed into blaze. Both he
filed with snow; into one he emptied the
handful of -four that he had carried in his
pocket--intO the other he put tea. Fifteen
minutes later he carried them to the
Englishman.
Dixon sat up, a glazed passion filling
his eyes. He drank the hot tea greedfly.
and as greedily ate the boiled -four pud
ding. Jan watched him hungrily until
| the last crumb of it was gone. He re-
filled the pals, with snow. added more
| tea and then rejoined the Englishman.
New life was already shining In Dixon's
| eyes.
said Thankfully, reaching over to grip
| the others hand another night and
| S,,d5arly ba Sfouped "Great heaven