Evening star., 1924-07-27
CHAPTER I.
The Trail Of the NIent.

trees had been stripped by a recent
wind of their white covering of frost.
and they seemed to lean toward each
other, black and ominous, in the fad
ing light A vast silence reigned
over the land. The land itself was
q d desolation, lifeless, without move
ment. so lone and cold that the spirit
of it was not even that of sadness.
There was a hint in it of laughter,
but of a laughter more terrible than
any sadness-a laughter that was
mirthless as the smile of the Sphinx,
d laughter cold as the frost and par
taking of the grimness of infallibil-
ity. 1t was the masterful and in
communica BILE wisdom of eternity
laughing at the futility of life and
the effort of life. 1t was the Wild,
the savage, frozen hearted Northland
Wild.
But there was life. abroad in the
land and defiant. Down the frozen
waterway toiled string of wolfish
dogs. Their bristly fur was rimed
with frost. Their breath froze in the
air as it left their mouths. spouting
forth in spumes of vapor that settled
upon the hair of their bodies and
formed into crystals of frost. Leather
harness was on the dogs, and leather
traces attached them TO IA sled which
dragged along behind. The sled was
without runners. 1t was made of
stout h-bark, and its full surface
rested on the snow. The front end
of the sled was turned up, like a
scroll, in order to force down and
under the bore of soft snow that
surged like wave before 1t. On the
Sled securely lashed, was a long and
narrow oblong box. There were
other things the SlaH-h1a ket
an AK, and a coffee pot and frying
pan; but prominent, occupying most
of the space. was the long and mar
row oblong box.
snowshoes, toiled man. At the rear
of the sled toiled Il second man. On
the sled, in the box, lay a third man
whose toll was over, a man whom
the Wild had conquered and beaten
down until he would never move nor
struggle again. 1t is not the way of
the Wild to like movement. Life is
an offence to it, for life is movement;
and the Wild aims always to destroy
movement. 1t freezes the water to
prevent it running to the sea; it
drives the sap out of the trees till
they are frozen to their mighty
riby of all does the Wild harry and
crush into submission mailman,
who is the most restless of life. ever
In revolt against the dictum that all
IiuSl III the enu come TO
the cessation of movement.
But at the front and rear, unawed
and indomitable, toiled the two men
who were not yet dead. Their bodies
We're covered with fur and soft
cheeks and lips were SO coated with
the crystals from their frozen breath
that their faces were not discernible
ghostly masques, undertakers in a
spectral world at the funeral of some
ghost. But under it all they were
men, penetrating the land of desola-
tion and mockery and silence, puny
adventures bent on colossal adven-
ture, pitting themselves against the
might of a world as remote and alien
and pulseless as the abysses of
space.
They travelled on without speech.
saving their breath for the work of
their bodies. On every side was the
silence, pressing upon them with
tangible. presence. 1t affected their
minds as the many atmospheres of
deep water affect the body of the
diver. 1t crushed them with the
weight OF unending vastness and un-
alterable decree. 1t crushed them
into the remotest recesses of their
own minds, pressing out of them, like
juices from the grape, all the false
ardors and exaltations and undue
self-values Of the human soul, until
they perceived themselves finite and
with weak cunning and little wisdom
amidst the play and interplay of the
great blind elements and forces.
An An hour hour went by, and a second
sunless day was beginning to fade,
when faint far cry arose on the
still air. 1t scared upward with a
swift rush, till it reached it's top
tant and tense, and then slowly died
away. 1t might have been a lost soul
walling, had it not been invested
with a certain sad fierceness and
turned his head until his eyes met
the eyes of the man behind And
then, across the narrow oblong box
each nodded to the other
tsilence with needlelike shriiiness
Both men located the sound. 1t was
TO the rear, somewhere in the snow
expanse they had just traversed A
to the rear and to the left of the
second cry.
They're after US, Bill" said the
man at the front
His voice sounded hoarse and un-
real, and he had spoken with appar-
ent effort
Meat is scarce" answered his
comrade. Il amt seen rabbit sign
for days"
Thereafter they spoke no more
though their ears were keen for the
huntins-cries that continued to rise
behind them.
At the fall of darkness they swung
the dogs into a cluster of spruce
trees on the edge of the waterway
and made camp. The coffin, at the
side of the fire, served for seat and
table. The wolfdogs, clustered on
the far side of the fire. snarled and
Dickered among themselves, but
evinced no inclination to stray off
into the darkness.
Seems to me, Henry. they're stay
IN remarkable close to camp" Bill
commented.
Henry. squatting over the fire and
settling the pot of coffee with a piece
of ice, nodded Nor did he speak till
he had taken his seat on the coffin
and begun to eat.
They know where their hides is
safe" he said. They'd sooner eat
grub than be grub. They're pretty
wise, them dogs.
Bill shook his head. "Oh, 1 don't
Know"
His comrade looked at him curl
ously. First time 1 ever heard you
say anythin' about their not bein'
Henry" said the other. munching
with de1iberation the beans he was
' eating, did you happen to notice the
. way them dogs kicked up when 1 was
a-feeding' 'em?"
They did cut up more'n usual"
Henry acknowledged.
How many dogs we we got,
Six"
We'll, Henry :" Bill stopped
for a moment, in order that his
words might gain greater signifi-
we've got six dogs. I took six fsh
out of the bag. 1 gave one fish to
each dog, an, Henry, was one fish
short"
.VpY, oouptoa