There the way led up a gentle slope, then down to the bed of Nome River, where they kept on the ice for several miles. It was here that Jemima's unfitness for work with experts began to manifest itself; as well as the unusual tenacity of purpose that seemed either perseverance or perversity—depending upon whether you looked at the matter from Baldy's standpoint or from hers.
"Scotty" watched with some amusement her efforts to keep up with the others on the slippery ice, and when he thought she was becoming tired he stopped her, and let her run free. When she realized that she was out of the team her amazement and chagrin were plainly manifest. She sat down in the snow while she figured out a plan of campaign for the restoration of her rights; and then was off immediately in pursuit. "Scotty" had brought Fisher back into the wheel with Baldy; and Jemima, without pausing, jumped over Fisher's back between him and Baldy, to the growling disgust of the latter. Of course all three became "tangled in the riggin'," and the sled slipped up and over them.
The Woman, thinking the dogs were hurt, gave a frightened scream, Ben was nearly thrown out by the sudden jolt, and "Scotty "—yes, "Scotty" said something short and forceful, which was most rare; though swearing much or little seems almost as invariable a part of dog mushing as it is of mule driving. Jemima was lifted out, the tow-line straightened, and another start was made; but after trotting along steadily for a time she gave a second sudden leap, and was between the two dogs just in front of the wheelers. Once more things were badly mixed, and the untangling process had to be repeated. "Scotty" was annoyed, but interested; for the usual rebukes had no effect on Jemima who was still agreeably but firmly bent upon being an active member of the team.
Again and again she tried the same move till she had been ousted from every position she had endeavored to fill. And then, more in sorrow than in anger, she abandoned the unsuccessful tactics, stepped up beside Kid, and, keeping pace with him, ran at the head of the team until they drew up before the door of the Nugget Road House, where they were to spend the night. Jemima believed in preserving appearances.
When they were settled, the Woman with "Scotty" and Ben went into the barn to see the dogs fed, and said if Jemima showed any inclination, because of her frustrated plans, to destroy Road House property, or refuse food, her name should be changed to Emmeline. But Jemima, at least to her own satisfaction, had demonstrated her ability, as well as her unswerving determination, so she ate dried salmon and corn meal porridge with zest, and slept soundly, content to leave the rest to Allan's sense of justice. Baldy looked distrustfully at the sleeping Jemima, and thought approvingly of the absent Mego—for Baldy was somewhat primitive in his ideas of the hitherto gentle sex.
Shortly afterward the other team came—and then followed the excitement and confusion that was the inevitable accompaniment of the arrival of Pete Bernard and his howling huskies.
What an untrained lot they were—fierce and unapproachable—for no one ever handled them but Pete, and he had no time to give to their higher education. If they had the strength to pull, he would see that they did it; he never used a dog physically unfit, and was perfectly willing to go through with them any of the severe hardships they were forced to endure. Did he not, without hesitation, drive them mercilessly through black night and raging blizzard to bring a freezing stranger to the hospital—a man whose one chance lay in skilled care?
It was no great thing in Pete's sight—a simple episode of the North. The man was in dire need, he himself was strong, and his dogs would go through anything with Pete "at the steerin' gear"—and so a life was saved.
When the Bernard team was also stabled, Baldy was overcome with that delicious drowsiness that follows a busy day in the open. From the house came those strange noises that people seem to so much enjoy—else why do they remain within reach of them instead of running far away, as did Baldy at first? But he, like the rest of the Allan and Darling family, had eventually become used to the phonograph; and their perfect self-control now enabled them to lie quietly through the "Sextette from Lucia" or the latest rag time at least with composure, if not with pleasure.
Not so, however, Pete's uncultured brutes; such strains were melancholy and painful to them in the extreme; and they did not hesitate to let it be known. One by one they began to howl, till all twelve were wailing dolefully and continuously. The Nugget dogs joined them, and Baldy noticed with stern condemnation that Fisher and Wolf, who had not yet acquired the repose of manner that comes of rigid discipline, were also guilty of this breach of Road House decorum. Allan and Pete rushed out to quell the disturbance, but the Big Man said not to interfere; that many a dollar he had paid for an evening of Strauss or Debussy when the clamor was just as loud, and to him no more melodious—and he was for letting them finish their "number" in peace.