Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-02-16

dts old Ben Woodland, and he's up near
the head of Wassemebi."
The doctor stopped with one arm half
way in the sleeve of his coat "Ben Wood
ard? I've heard of him. Wassemebi? Good
Lord, Man! That's forty or fifty miles
from here, isn't it,"
Canada Charley nodded his head, and
something in his appearance made the doc
tor step closer, replace his glasses, and look
at him critically.
you just got here, didn't your
"Ycs.'
"How long have you been hiking through
this Storm"
"Since early evenin yesterday"
The doctor gave a long whistling note of
surprise. "And you re ready to start back
and buck the storm for forty miles again,
without any rest, for this friend of yours!"
he asked, his tone expressing great ad1nira-
ton.
Certainly"
"Well, you II attempt nothing of the sort'
snapped the doctor. "Why, it would kill
YOU! We'd never get there. You We got to
have some rest. like your nerve, and just
because you've go. it I'll go; but III be
| hanged if I'd do it if the case was any differ
cnt. I'm not SO husky as | have been. This
trip may get me; but III go just the same.
Now you go in the back room there, take off
your clothes, and lie down on my bed until
| call YOU. Well move tomorrow"
"Nopei We go sooner'n that Charley
asserted, and then took to pleading, and the
best the doctor could do was to get him to
promise to sleep four hours, and have meal
before they started.
at must be somethin' mighty serious to
| call Doc and that teller out into the trail
such a evenin' as this, was the comment of
| the two or three men who saw them start
| away in the dusk, with Canada Charley i'm
patiently in the lead and the doctors case
strapped to his back.
| TT was dark almost before the first six
miles had been conquered. This time
| the night going was easier; for the doctor
| had provided one of those oldtime bullseyc
| lanterns that we later used when we wanted
| to "shine" moose or deer. The wind had
abatcd little when they made their start
but now, even there in the great forest, they
could hear its upper moan increasing, and
an icy wave seemed to sweep down through
the trees, in and out among the bare trunks,
like wolves gathering for the kill. The path
of light, tiny and struggling, showed occa
sional whirls of snow flying like chill ghosts
through the night across the trail. The
drifts were soft in places, and their snow
y
nerve, endurance, and patience to the limit.
The wind was in their faces as they made
the turn on the divide and started down
ward 1t now seemed to fill all gulles, to
invade all coves, and to rage in every spot
where they had hoped for hull. Charley
turned his back to it for an instant, utterly
exhausted by its persistent enmity, to dis
cover that the little doctor had Jagged be-
hind many PAGES and was coming forward
with logged effort.
"Come on, Doc" he croaked encourag
ingly, and his voice barely lifted above the
whining of the forest and the storm. Come
on. About a mile more, and there's the
cache. Well have some hot tea there"
But, although the doctor was gamely
struggling, and attempted to respond, his
snowshoes were barely clearing themselves
as he came on. Canada walked more slowly,
looking back every minute lest his compan-
ion SUI ccunb to the desire for rest that is
fatal when the mercury is frozen. At the
cabin the doctor lunged in and threw him
self on the old bunk needless of little drifts
of snow that had filtered through Granny,
chinking, and crack, while Canada Charley
fastened to fill the little tin stove with
birch bark and start it into blaze. The
"a hin RESPONDED with O,1ick generous heat