A WINTER IN THE FROZEN NORTH
“For ten days that blizzard raged, and I began to think we never would get out again. Then one morning Hal called me to see the beautiful snow. I stretched and got up. Hal had managed to chop away some of the drift that had piled against the door, and after some digging we squeezed through an aperture and stood without.
“My, but it was grand! One great world of sparkling white, with drifted mountains of snow all over. Even our hut was but a smaller drift in the general picture. While I stood and admired, Hal brought out two pails which we had had in the canoes, and told me how important it was to get some water from the stream. We carried the water carefully to the hut, and then I watched Hal set a bear trap, as well as a trap for small game.
“The dogs enjoyed being out once more and lapped the water greedily while we filled the buckets. We worked several hours taking wood from outside the hut and piling it up on our depleted stack inside. Long before we were done, I heard a distant howling, and looked toward Hal for its meaning.
“‘Wolves! They scent our meat,’ he said laconically.
“We managed to fasten our door again, and sat down by the fire while the dogs went over to their corner to sleep.
“That night the thermometer dropped to thirty degrees below zero and stayed there for a week. Everything that could froze up solid, and the wild beasts could catch no more fish or small game, so took long jaunts away from their lairs to find food.
“Inside of forty-eight hours I heard every kind of a growl and howl imaginable, as bears prowled about the hut sniffing at the buried food, or scratching at our hut to get in.
“‘Wish we could get some of ’em in the traps,’ I said.
“‘They’d be torn to pieces and soon et up by the other wild beasts,’ replied Hal, as he made another notch in a log where he was keeping record of the days.
“It wasn’t very pleasant that week, for the room was small, and the dogs and meat began to make the air reek, so we were mighty glad, one morning, to wake and find it warmer. Without delay, Hal and I chopped the door out of the ice and snow and got out, followed by the dogs. The air was still so cold that it felt like a knife going through my lungs, but it was sweet and fresh. The dogs, too, were glad to have a run.
“The only thing to mark the hut from the other humps of snow round about was the dirty spot where the smoke came out. While we aired the room we cleaned up whatever débris lay about and filled the pails with some ice that Hal chopped out of the frozen stream.
“Meantime, the dogs were scenting about in the drifts and growling and yelping. Hal looked up and saw that they were off following some tracks. He ran after them for a few rods and then came back, calling them to come in.
“‘Those were bear tracks,’ he explained, as the dogs obeyed most unwillingly. ‘I wish I had some way to trap them without having the fur ruined by other animals.’
“‘Couldn’t you set a trap right in range with the chink of the door, and if you hear other animals about you can shoot them,’ I said.
“‘But it would waste a lot of valuable ammunition,’ he replied.
“He set the trap where I had suggested, however, and said he would wait and see what happened.
“We felt better for that day’s fresh air, but the storm settled down again during the night, and it was several days before it stopped snowing. The cold held on longer, but we knew it was clear by the bright gleam of light that filtered through our smoke-hole.
“‘I wonder if we can get out to-day?’ I asked, but at the same time howls were heard coming from the pines.
“‘Guess you will do better to stay in to-day,’ smiled Hal.
“That night we found it impossible to sleep, for the wolves howled madly just outside the hut, and some of them pawed at the smoke-hole so that Hal finally picked up a red-hot firebrand and poked it up through the opening just as one of the beasts tried to nose down into the hut. It must have caught him well, for he set up a terrific howling.
“The next night, as the wolves came back again to pay their nightly visit, we heard a new growl coming from a distance. I looked at Hal for information, and he chuckled with satisfaction.
“‘Ha! I thought so! I was sure a bear would come along before long.’
“‘A bear! Oh, I wish we could get him in that trap!’
“‘Will he attack the wolves?’ I asked.
“‘He will come sniffing about that pit for meat, and if the wolves bother him they will most likely get into trouble,’ said Hal, laughing.
“‘Gracious, Hal! S’pose he gets our meat—what will we do?’
“‘We’ll have to prevent him from gettin’ it, that’s all,’ said Hal, looking at his rifle to see that it was in good order.
“‘How are you going to do it?’
“‘Shoot him while he’s busy with the wolves, or try and get him while he is digging at the pit.’
“‘Wait and try the last plan. Let him kill off a pack of hungry wolves, and when he has driven them away he will come to the pit. Then is your time,’ I said.
“‘Kid, you’re comin’ on fine! Another season in the north and you will be a regular hunter,’ laughed Hal.
“I saw that I pleased the old man, and felt happy that I could do it so easily. But my attention was attracted by the din of battle outside, as howls and snarls mixed together so furiously that the dogs huddled down in a corner of the hut and showed their teeth at the doorway.
“We couldn’t tell from the sounds which was being worsted, but the fact that the wolves were so numerous led us to believe that they could finally tear to pieces any bear. Then, while we were checking off the howls, quite a singular snarl came from the opposite direction.
“We could tell from the noises that another bear had taken a hand in the fight, which continued for a long time. Then all was quiet.
“All that night we heard something scratching at the door and climbing up to the smoke-hole, but a firebrand always met the inquisitive nose, for we could hear the snarl of rage as a hasty retreat was made. One queer thing, though, was the fact that we only heard one beast clawing about.
“When light came again, Hal placed his ear to a chink in the door and listened. He seemed satisfied that the coast was clear, so we started to chop out the snow that bound the door on the outside.
“We got the door open about an inch, and Hal peeped out, but could see nothing. Then we managed to push it open a little further, and still nothing but snow was visible.
“Then suddenly a dark shadow fell across the light from outside. I stood rigid while Hal took a good aim.
“‘Why don’t you shoot?’ I cried, as I saw the largest bear I had ever seen standing there scenting the air.
“‘He isn’t in perfect range yet. I’d only ping him and make him run, if I shoot now,’ whispered Hal, still holding his finger on the trigger.
“‘If he’d only move a foot this way!’ I sighed.
“As if the brute felt my wish, he turned his head in our direction. Instantly a deafening report seemed to blow up the cabin, and powder smoke hung thick over our heads. The dogs were so startled that they yelped and rolled over on the floor.
“There was not a sound from outside, and Hal smiled to himself.
“‘Bet I got him first try. Didn’t hear any objections from him, did you?’
“‘Gee! I wish we could open this door and drag him in before those wolves come back,’ I said, digging frantically.
“‘They won’t get back straight off. They have been whipped for the time and will be feared to try it again unless they get the scent of the dead bears,’ said Hal, digging away at the top of the drift while I scooped at the bottom.
“We finally managed to open the door enough to get out.
“The bear had dropped dead in his tracks. At his feet—but out of range of the chink of our door—lay the other, literally ripped to pieces by the wolves during the night’s battle. She had put up a fine fight, though, for the area all about her was covered with the bodies of the wolves she had slaughtered, and the snow was all trampled and red.
“The dogs ran out, their hair bristling along their spines as they sniffed at the carcasses.
“We heard the wolves’ howls from the pine woods, so we hurriedly dragged the bear Hal had shot inside the hut. We put the carcass in one corner of the room, which left us scarcely enough space to move around in.
“Hardly had the door been closed before the pack of wolves were upon it, scratching and tearing at the logs.
“We had a difficult time skinning the bears and trying to cut the steaks properly; the grease we kept for oil after it had been melted down. I used to implore Hal to throw out the whole dreadful mess, but he knew the value of bear-grease and steaks, so kept his own counsel and minded me not at all.
“Parts that could not be used, however, and refuse were thrown to the wolves, thus keeping a howling horde of them in our vicinity constantly. This, as it happened, proved our salvation.
“We sat cross-legged one morning, figuring out by the notch calendar how many weeks of winter remained. Suddenly a most startling sound rose above the din of the snarling, fighting beasts outside.
“A shot rang out, followed by a shrill yelp of pain from one of the beasts; again a rifle cracked, and one more wolf was struck, judging from the noise and confusion that ensued.
“Hal and I looked at each other as if in a dream; then we comprehended, and almost choked with joy. The beasts outside slunk away as the strangers who had dealt death so swiftly among them approached. Hal and I both raised our voices and shouted and called as loudly as we could. I thought of his rifle, and brought it to him.
“‘Shoot through the rifle-hole in the door,’ I said, excitedly.
“‘Sure thing!’ he cried, raising his gun to his shoulder and shooting toward the sky.
“We heard an answering shot, and then voices approaching to within a few yards of the hut. We pried the door open far enough to hand out the spade. The unknown visitors already had one spade, and between the two we were soon excavated, the door was opened, and we leaped forth! There stood an Indian squaw with a boy of about twelve.
“Fancy our chagrin and sinking hearts! Hal said afterward that he thought a rescue party had started out to find us, although he knew this was practically impossible.
“The squaw and Hal could speak, after a fashion, and he explained to me that she and her son were hunting the day before, and had been caught by night’s swift approach. They were forced to rest in a cave until morning. Here they had to keep the wild animals at bay, although they could see them moving around in the shadows just outside the circle of their campfire, and heard them howling all through the night. When light came again, they started to find their way home, and had seen the beasts prowling around a hump in the snow from whence issued a thin stream of smoke. They knew immediately that some human being was there, and tried to drive away the animals long enough to investigate.
“Hal explained how we had come to be there—and how grateful we would be to get away. The squaw managed to tell us that she would return to her tribe at once and find out whether or not we would be welcomed among them.
“Hal made her understand how much money she would have if she would help us reach Forty-Mile, where he had ‘much money’ waiting for him in the bank.
“The squaw had heard of ‘Old Hal,’ the guide, and was evidently surprised to find him lost while so near the trail.
“‘With this kid, I couldn’t take any chance at hunting for the trail any longer,’ he explained, ‘but decided to follow the most sensible course, and wait until Spring!’
“We offered the squaw the bear-pelts if she would return with help and rescue us. In the native manner of ‘hearing without speaking’ she stalked away, and we were not sure as to whether she would return or not.
“In a few days, however, we again heard the sound of a shot which came from the direction of the woods, and after forcing the door open we found the squaw with two young men from her tribe.
“‘Trail—him all right,’ mumbled the squaw.
“We found the weather clear enough to enable us to travel, so we packed all of our belongings upon the sledge, leaving the canoe in the snowbank, where it lay hidden against the house. The bear-steaks were almost gone, but Hal showed the squaw where the other food was buried, and told her she could use the hut any time she liked. She nodded, and as soon as the dogs were hitched to the sledge, we proceeded on our journey, guided by the squaw and the two boys.
“We had only a few hours in which to travel, but in that time we reached the cave the squaw had told us of, and there spent the night. The following morning, we continued the journey, reaching the village before dark.
“The settlement was small, comprising but a dozen families and about six huts, but it seemed like a town to us, who had been lost all Winter with nothing but wild animals and snow around us.
“Our dogs were delighted at being able to join some of their breed again, and, upon the whole, we were all treated as well as could be expected.
“We stayed there for two nights, then made an early start on the third morning for Forty-Mile.
“The faithful squaw and her two boys accompanied us a short distance, until Hal had gotten his bearings and said he would be all right.
“We started on the trail at a goodly speed, and reached a small settlement by night-fall. The next day we arrived at the first real colony of white people we had encountered since we left the camp, and a week after we had left the squaw we came to the town of Forty-Mile, where we filed the papers for the claim Herrick and Dwight had staked out.
“Hal knew this was an important matter, and wondered if the rascal who stranded us had found his way to the land-office first.
“I was sitting in the little smoking-room in the place they called ‘Hotel’ one morning, while Hal was in our room sewing his gold-dust belt a bit safer inside of his shirt.
“I had changed so much in appearance—with a boyish growth of beard over my chin, and my hair as long as a poet’s—that a villainous-looking man who came in and asked for whiskey failed to recognize me; but I knew him at once as being the man who had escaped from our canoe.
“I managed to get out of the room without being seen, and ran to Hal.
“‘What do you think! The murderer is downstairs!’
“‘Who?—Sit down and talk sensible,’ said Hal.
“‘One of the Indians who got away from the canoe,’ I cried in a hoarse whisper.
“Old Hal leaped to his feet. He strapped on his belt and swung his gun over his arm. After making sure his revolver was all right, he crept downstairs. I was not going to be cheated out of anything as exciting as this promised to be, so I cautiously followed him.
“The tavern-keeper and by-standers knew Hal well, and, of course, would stake their all on his word; so when he entered the bar-room and cried: ‘Hands up!’ to the Indian, everyone took sides with him, and we soon had the fellow safely bound.
“‘Now, let me see those papers you forged for our claims,’ snarled Hal, fishing through the man’s dirty pockets, but finding nothing.
“The man’s face showed too much elation for an old guide like Hal to be fooled, and he ordered the boys standing about to help him strip the Indian, and there—fastened to his back with strips of plaster—were found the drawings rudely sketched, somewhat like the set of surveys Hal had already filed.
“They were ripped off and thrown into the fire and the villain was chained to a post out in the shed with the dogs, with his arms tied behind him to prevent his escape, until the Sheriff should come in the morning.
“Hal told the crowd all about the treachery of the Indians, and they promised to attend to this man after we were gone.
“A public sledge was about to leave for Dyea in a few days, and Hal engaged seats for himself and me. He paid the tavern-keeper to keep the dogs until he returned.
“I had refrained from asking Hal about my future while there was any doubt of our getting to the Coast, but this seemed to be the best time to speak of it.
“‘What you going to do with me?’ I asked.
“‘We’ll skip right down to Juneau, and see if there are any letters there. It all depends,’ he replied.
“In a few days more we reached Dyea, where Hal secured some trustworthy men into whose charge he could commit the mining work. Then we took the boat and started for Juneau.
“After a rough voyage of more than ten days, we docked at the wretched little city, and went to the post-office for our mail.
“Three letters awaited me—but every one of them were from chums to whom I had sent cards from Seattle. My mail had been forwarded to me from Seattle to Juneau, but there was no word from my parents.
“As Hal and I stood reading our letters, the postmaster—a shrivelled-up, little old man, peered at me over the rim of his spectacles, and called out:
“‘Be you the one thet jist got some old letters from the East?’
“‘Yes, sir,’ I returned, going over to the counter.
“‘Waal, heah’s one thet cum a long time ago, an’ I meant to send it back, but somehow fergot it. I cum across it yistiddy, and made up my mind to do somethin’ with it sure, so heah ye aire.’
“With relief I recognized my father’s writing, but the letter was dated two months previous.
“I opened the letter and read it through with intense emotion. First, I learned that my Mother had died after a brief illness. Next, my Father had lost his fine saw-mill by fire. Third, my oldest sister had married, and the home was broken up, Father having gone to live with her in New York.
“I wondered where I would go if I went home. There was no Mother waiting, no home, and my Father was in a strange city with his son-in-law.
“I turned and handed the letter to Hal. He read and comprehended.
“‘Guess it’s Alaska for ye, Kid. Want to go back with me?’
“Did I?—well, I just guess I did, and I fairly jumped at the hand that was held out to me.
“‘Glad myself, Kid, to have you. I sure would have missed you tol’able ef I saw you sailin’ away from me, headed for Seattle.’
“‘Hal, will the bosses think it is all right now?’ I asked.
“‘Sure thing, when they read this letter, Kid. And, say, I never told anyone this, but seein’ thet I am to be your ’dopted father, now, I may as well tell yeh—I am to have a tenth-share in the claim up there, and, as my ’dopted son, you come in fer a part of mine—see?’
“‘Hal, do you mean you will take me under your wing?’ I cried, all forgetful of the goldmine.
“This pleased the old guide so much that he laughed as he retorted, ‘I knew I wasn’t wrong on the stuff you’re made of. That was a lucky day when my horse stumbled, eh?’ and he slapped me kindly on the back.
“Well, we went back to Dyea, and waited for a caravan to start on the trail. We joined the very first one out, and Hal earned our passage and keep all the way, as guide.
“We found the camp in excellent condition, and the new miners we had chosen in place of the villainous Indians proved to be all that could be desired.
“Some machinery was purchased by Hal at Dyea, and as soon as it was delivered at our camp, all hands set to work.
“I stayed at that camp with Hal for three years before we sold out our interests and took a vacation. The bosses had only remained until the gold was panning out well, then they sent for experts to come and value the entire mine.
“Hal had filed some property claims for himself and me adjoining the Dwight mine, and after the experts had rendered their verdict on the property we were able to sell them at a big price.
“Hal and I decided to go to Seattle for a while, and then travel a bit; if we found the life too lazy we could easily get back to Alaska.
“We put in a year of pleasure-seeking together, but the life and climate was too mild for the old guide who had always been accustomed to work and cold, and one night I found him breathing hard, and he complained of pains in his chest. In a week he had passed away, leaving me with all of his wealth to add to my own.
“I had written father, and sent him some money several times during the year, and now I wrote to tell him I was coming home.
“Needless to say, we were overjoyed to see each other again, and then I told him I was going to take him on a little trip.
“We went straight to our old home town, and to his surprise I took him to the old homestead where I was born, telling him that I had repurchased it from the folks who had bought it from him. He trembled with happiness as we entered the door and found all of the familiar old furniture there, too. Above all, there stood his maiden-sister, in the dining-room door, smiling a welcome!
“I explained how I had found Aunt Delia, and made her promise to keep house for him, and how we had collected the old furniture that the village-folks bought when mother died. I was always thankful that my money enabled me to make his last days happy.”