"It's all over," said Constance, gently withdrawing her hand. "The long trail is ended."
"And thank God," Keith replied, "that it's of no earthly mine the gold he's struck to-night."
CHAPTER XXX
THE CONSECRATION
"The ice is going! The ice is going!"
The cry rang through Klassan late one afternoon, and produced a magical effect. Men dropped their frying-pans, axes, or whatever they had in their hands, and hurried to the river. The Indians swarmed from their lodges and raced along the bank, eager to see the stirring of the great, icy monster.
It was truly a marvellous spectacle which met their view. Far up the Yukon the vast field was moving irresistibly onward. From shore to shore the wildest confusion reigned as the huge blocks of ice tore and jammed one another in their rapid rush. Now a massive, sparkling fragment would be lifted into the air, held for a time as if in a vise, and then, released, would plunge with a roar beneath the surface, to emerge hundreds of feet below like some monster of the sea. Logs, swept down from tributary streams, snapped like pipe-stems in the merciless grip, while trees, torn roots and all from the banks, were whirled along like wisps of hay.
Where the banks were steep and high the crush was terrible, and the ice wedged and jammed as if struck by the sledge of Thor. The water rose accordingly, and every creek was inundated for miles back.
After the river became clear of ice anxious days of waiting followed. When would the steamer come? That was the question on the lips of all. At length their patience was rewarded, for early one morning a shout was raised that at last she was coming. Far away down stream a film of white smoke was to be seen curling up into the sky. Nearer and nearer it approached, and then the wheezy puffing could be faintly heard, sounding like the sweetest of music to the weary, waiting ones. Steadily she approached, bravely stemming the racing current, until at length her smoke-stack and pilot-house appeared above the bank. She was a jaunty little craft, and had made a noble struggle up that northern stream, laden with supplies. Rocks had ripped and scarred her hull; floating ice had damaged her small stern wheel, and for several days she had been stranded upon a bar. But she had conquered every obstacle, and now port was in sight.