Wauwatosa news. [volume] (Wauwatosa, Wis.) 1900-1948, 1918-01-11

49, AA.cAC NCA q SotAyAt. kHe toll OF
the trail win net permit such extrav-
ssal.se. and of l$u deadening labofs
that of the SorthlaDd trail is the WORT
Happy is the man who can weather :
days travel at the price of Silence
and that on beaten track.
And of all heart breaking labers that
Of breaking tran is worst. At every
step the great webbed shoe sinks till
the snow is level with the knee. Then
up. straight UP, tue deviation of frac-
ticn Of an inch being certain nre-
cursor of disaster, the snowshoe must
be lifted till the surface is cleared
then forward, down, and the other foot
is raised perpendicularly for the mat
ter Of half yard. He who tries this
for the first time, if haply he avoids
bringing his shoes In dangerous pro-
pinquity and measures not his length
on the treachtsrous footing. win give
up exhausted al fEe end Of a hunSse.s
yards. He VINO can keep out of the
way Of the dogs sor whole day may
Wen crawl into hk sleeping bag with
clear conscience and a pride which
passeth all understanding, and he who
travels twenty sleeps on the long trail
is a man whom the gods may envy.
The afternoon wore on, and with the
awe born Of the white silence the
yoiceless travellers bent to their work
Nature has many tricks wherewith
she convinces man Of his finity the
ceaseless flow of the tides, the fury of
the Storm the shock of the earth
quake, the long roll Of heavens artil-
lery-but the most tremendous, the
most Supplying of all, is the passive
phase Of the White silence. All move
ment ceases; the sky clears; the heav-
ems are as brass. The slightest whis-
per seems sacrilege, and man becomes
timid, affrighted at the sound of his
own voice. Sole speck of life journey
ing across the ghostly wastes of dead
world, he trembles at his audacity,
realizes that his is a maggot's life,
nothing more. Strange thoughts arise
unsummoned, and the mystery of all
things strives for utterance. And the
fear of death, of God, of the universe
comes over him the hope of the res
direction and the life, the yearning for
Immortality, the vain striving Of the
imprisoned essence. 1t is then, If ever,
man walks alone with God.
So wore the day away. The river
took great bend, and Mason headed
mis- team for the cutoff across the
narrow neck of land. But the dogs
baked at the high bank. Again and
again, though Ruth and Malemute Kid
were showing on the sled, they slipped
back. Then came the concerted effort.
The miserable creatures, weak from
hunger, exerted their last strength
Up, up, the sled poised on the top of
the bank, but the leader swung the
string of dogs behind him to the right.
fouling Mason's snowshoes. The re-
suit was grievous. Mason was whip
ped off his feet. One of the dogs fell
in the traces, and the sled toppIed
back, dragging everything to the bot
tom again.
slash The whip fell among the
dogs savagely, especially upon the one
which had fallen.
"Don't, Mason" entreated Malemute
Kid. 1.-THE poor devils on its last
legs. Wait and Wen put my team on. "
Mason deliberately withheld the whip
till the last word had fallen, then out
flashed the long lash, completely curl
ing about the offending creatures body.
Carmen-for it was Carmen covered
- the snow, cried piteously, then roll
ed over on her side.
1t was tragic moment, q pitlful in
cident Of the trail--a dying dog, two
comrades In anger. Ruth glanced So
hcitously from man to man, but Male
mute Kid restrained himself though
there was world of reproach in his
eyes, and, bending over the dog, cut
the traces. No word was spoken. The
teams ware double SPAWNED and the
difficulty overcome; the sleds were I'M
der way again. the dying dog dragging
herself along in the rear. AS long as
an animal can travel it is not shot,
and this last chance is accorded it,
the crawling into camp, if il can, in
the hope of moose being killed.
Already penitent for his angry ac-
ton, but too stubborn to make amends,
Mason toiled on at the head of the
cavalcade, little dreaming that danger
lowered in the air. The timber clus
tered thick in the sheltered bottom,
and through this they threaded their
way. Fifty feet or more from the trail
lowered lofty pine. For generations
it had stood there, and for generations
destiny had had this one end in view.
Perhaps the same had been decreed of
Mason.
He stopped to fasten the loosened
thong of his moccasin. The sleds came
to halt, and the dogs lay down in the
snow without a whimpel, The still
ness was weird. Not bseath rustled
| the frost encrusted forest. The cold
and silence of outer space had chilled
the heart and smote the trembling
lips of nature. A sigh pulsed through
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