Clay thanked him and bent over the chart thoughtfully. “Look’s like clear water for a couple of hundred miles up.” The Kid nodded. “Pretty smooth sailing until we get to the Upper Yukon. Then it’s rapids after rapids, and some of them pretty fierce.”
“I see an Indian village marked down about 110 miles above here,” Clay remarked. “I believe we will run ahead and camp there tonight. We haven’t seen a native village yet.”
“This one is rather small. Most of its inhabitants died of famine last winter, and all the able bodied men and squaws are off on the long hunt now. You’ll likely find only old men and old women there now. Well, I’ll have a look at Friend Case and then I’ll have to get back aboard. I’ve been gone too long already.”
“Getting afraid your old-timer cannot hold down that chair?” smiled Clay with freedom of their quickly born liking for each other.
“Oh, Olson will keep that seat reserved all right,” said the Kid confidently. “He’s gun shy on women folks. What I am afraid of is that some chekako may try to take it away from him. If that happens there will sure be some blood spilled on deck, an’ I don’t reckon she’s used to sights like that. Don’t get me wrong. It’s no case of spoons or anything like it. She’s just an innocent girl with an old father and mother, and the poor innocents have got an idea that they are going to make a fortune by opening up a restaurant in Dawson. Think of it, boys. Those three poor innocents trying to stack up such a game in Dawson of all places on earth. They have brought in no supplies either, and even flour will be nearly worth its weight in gold dust before the winter is over. The chekakos are pouring in faster than the supplies. That’s what makes me want to get back to the steamer quick. There is a crowd of greenhorns on board and some of them think they are mashers. If any of them try to get gay there will sure be something doing. Well, I’ll just run down and see the invalid while you run me back to the steamer.”
Case, suffering intently in his bunk, greeted the Kid with delight. His firm, friendly hand shake seemed to lessen his intense pains.
The air of strength, energy and power radiating from the Kid seemed to enthuse his own battered body with new strength. The Kid sat down on the edge of the bunk and with a touch as tender as a woman’s, examined the deeper wounds. “You’ll be fit as a fiddle in no time,” he declared, cheerfully. The wounds are beginning to heal already. That’s the reason they hurt so. I’ll see you again tomorrow maybe. I’ve got to go now. Good-bye, keep as quiet as you can and don’t fret.”
Case, soothed and strangely comforted by the mighty magnetism of the man, snuggled down in his bunk and dropped off to sleep.
“He’ll be all right if you take good care of him and fever does not set in,” said the Kid as he came to deck. “But have one of you down with him all the time so as to keep him entertained and to wait on him. Just a simple little thing like his getting up to get a drink of water for himself might prove fatal to him in his present condition. At the best though, it will be a long long time before he will be completely well.”
“I should have stayed right by him,” Ike exclaimed with contrition. “I go right down now to him.” He paused on the steps to add shyly, “I got so interested to see if that mail was still well guarded that I forgot. It’s all right, Mr. Kid.”