“Gold! gold!! Nothing but gold!!! I tell you Bill,” ejaculated Jack in the wild frenzy of the gold seeker who has made his strike.
“Yes, old pard, and we’ve got it in our clutches where it won’t get away,” returned Bill, just as excitedly. “Jack I’ve got to take my hat offen to you for bein’ the only, original man with the hunch that always makes good.”
CHAPTER XII
BACK TO THE HAUNTS OF MEN
After the boys had taken the sacks of gold out of the pit they lowered the rude box that held all that was mortal of Michael Carscadden into it; stood with Eileen by the open grave with bowed heads and made their silent prayers for him. Then Bill played Nearer My God To Thee on his mouth-organ and never before had he played the toy musical instrument so sweetly and with such feeling.
This done the boys filled in the space around and above the box with snow which they packed down tight; then they came to rigid attention, gave the military salute and Bill sounded taps on his mouth-organ when the simple but sincere service was over. So ended the life of adventure and romance of one of Alaska’s greatest hunters of moose and seekers of gold—Michael Carscadden.
After the boys had put back the heavy hewn timbers, which formed the floor, they fell to discussing the best way to get Eileen and the gold over to their permanent camp, for it was about as hard a puzzle as getting the fox, the geese and corn across the river.
There were three ways of doing it but as two of them necessitated leaving Eileen alone at one or the other of the cabins they did not think well of either of these and hence eliminated them. The matter resolved itself down to the conclusion that the only feasible plan was for them all to go together and take along the gold at the same time.
“You can hitch up my dogs, boys,” spoke up Eileen, “then you will have seven dogs in each team and they can haul these heavy loads.”
“But your dogs are nothing but skin and bones, Eileen,” Jack explained to her, “and I doubt very much if they will be able to drag themselves back to our camp, let alone do any team-work.”
“Here we are millionaires in our own right an’ only half-a-pound of tea, a dozen biscuits and two cans of pemmican left and our dogs a-starvin’ to death. I’ll give a hundred dollars for a beefsteak as big as my hand,” said Bill, and he meant it, but there were no takers, for here in the frozen wilderness gold had lost its purchasing power.