In the far Northern, country, in the depressing days of winter, there is something in being alone, when one is despondent, that augments all one's melancholy. Not a living thing had been up, down, or around me all day. The dogs felt my mood, and were not companionable. Even the “camp robber,” or Canadian blue jay, that sometimes favored me with his presence, had vanished, and I was left alone to brood.
Nor am I ashamed to say that the face of Elizabeth Wilton was in my memory most of the hours, and that she appeared as an unattainable apparition, a source of bitter regret. Life summed itself in this, that I was to go hungry for love, and that all I could hope for was money, a paltry success. And of that there was none in sight, for our claim was still a discouraging blank.
I sometimes fancy that the drunkard, or drinking man, has his recompense; for when I sat alone in my cabin that long winter evening, I thought that I should welcome the oblivion of bestial drunkenness! Anything to forget!
I could not interest myself in the book loaned me by Cavanaugh, and blew out my light and went to bed. Sleep came quickly as a boon. I was awakened by a terrific thumping at the door.
“Come in,” I called, sitting up, and wondering who it could be, and how long I had slept.
It opened, and outlined against the stars of the background stood some one, who answered: “Is that you, Tom?”
“Yes, Kentuck,” I replied, recognizing his voice. “Light the candle. You know where it is. What is it?”
“They've gone,” he said. “It must be that I didn't quite understand the time set. The Big Chicken and the Hatchet, I mean. Constantine and she had a row down at the camp to-day, and he came home alone. To-night one of the natives from across the river came up to a claim above, and stopped to tell Constantine that she had sent word she was going with friends to visit some relatives in Taninaw. Constantine went into a rage, and reckoned she could go and be hanged, for all of him; but I knew what it meant.
“If we're to take a try at finding where they've headed for, and get in and stake some of that gold they all talk about, we've got to get action to-night. We could cut across from here, and get to Taninaw not more than a day behind them. We'd save the time of going around the camp there by going to that little stream above it, direct. And there we ought to find their trail. I hate to lose the chance. It means a lot to me. Won't you come with me?”
I had crawled out of my bunk as he talked, and pulled on my trousers, and sat there on the edge thinking. He wanted to go to gain wealth to marry Elizabeth Wilton, the girl I loved. I knew that, and yet it influenced my decision but little. The glamour of gain was not all, either, but rather the fact that I was sick of life as it had been, and also that there was Dan to consider. Poor old Dan, with his cares and worries, eating his heart out because he could not take care of those others outside! And Dan was all man. If by chance I could make this expedition, and meet with success, it would mean more to Dan than anything in the world. But there were the discomforts and fatigues of what might prove to be a long, hard trail, vicissitudes, perhaps starvation and death!
I walked to the door and threw it open, and looked out into the night, while Kentuck sat watching me, anxiously waiting for my decision. Off in the north the aurora was beginning to rise above the trees on the crest of the mountains, shining in streamers of gold, fluttering, waving, and spreading across to consume the sky. The cold was so intense that I hurriedly drew back, and closed the door, and stood with my back against it, looking at Kentuck. The bunk was warm and comfortable, after all; but to lie soft meant an opportunity lost. The reckless mood invaded me again, and I took a step toward him.
“Yes,” I said. “I'll go!”
He threw his hat up, and shouted.
“Go out and pull the sled down off the roof,” I said, “and look over the dog harness you'll find hanging in the cache at the side of the door. Then we'll get the grub together, put the dogs in, and pull out. What time does it say there on the clock? Ten? Well, we should be away from here by eleven, and the moon rises just about that time, and is in the full.”
I began selecting the clothing I should want, extra moccasins, and mittens and socks, and dragged the fur robe from the bottom layer in my bunk. I had begun to wrap the bacon and beans and oatmeal into their separate sacks by the time he had finished his last repairs on the harness. I took my snowshoes from the wall, and threw Dan's to him, and told him to look at the lashings, then sat down and wrote a note to my partner: