The Indians having started, Jim began to strap the rest of the packages about him. Despite her hate, she could not but feel a sense of admiration. When she thought his back was about to break he still added more, grunting as he took up the packages. All but a sack of beans found lodgment on that huge body. The latter he placed into her hands.
“Take that,” he said.
She hesitated, and then took it, carrying it in her arms as she might a child.
“Better shoulder it,” he growled.
“I can carry it better this way,” she retorted.
He said no more but began the ascent. In a 119 few minutes she found herself almost exhausted. She moved the sack to her shoulder and found this method much easier.
Looking at it from the base, the Chilcoot had been terrifying enough, but on the slope it was a thousand times worse. She remembered a conversation between Jim and a man on the steamer who had made the ascent many times.
“Say, is this Chilcoot as husky a thing as they make out?” queried Jim.
“Wal, stranger, I calculated it would be steepish, but darn me if I thought it would lean back!” the other had replied.
She was beginning to realize how nearly true this was. She had made up her mind she would not give way to the terrific fear that gripped her. She hated to think that she might appear contemptible in his eyes. But the last thousand feet broke all her resolutions. It shot up in one unbroken, dizzy ascent. She saw the Indians, like black ants, climbing and resting alternately. She took a few faltering steps, looked down and shivered. Far below was the black train of climbers, reaching away as far as the eye could 120 see. But above—she dare not risk that awful path. She sat down.