"I am afraid my time has come. If so, tell Pete Mateese the claims are staked on Ignatook—mine and his. See map in lining of parka. Maybe Pete is dead. He has been gone a year. He tried to go out by the Tatonduk. I can't find him. I can't find the divide. The Lillimuit has got me! They said it would—but the gold! It is here—gold, gold, gold—yellow gold—and it is all mine—mine and Pete Mateese's. But the steam! The stillness! The white, frozen forest—and the creeks that don't freeze! After Pete left things came in the night. It is cold—yet my brain is on fire! I can't sleep!"
This proved to be the longest entry; the man seemed to grow rapidly weaker. When the boy finished Waseche Bill shuddered.
"The Lillimuit got him," he said slowly. "He went marihuana." On the next page, under the date of January sixth, the boy read:
"We'ah lost, kid. It's a cinch we cain't find the divide."
"Made a cache here in timber. Growing weaker. Tomorrow I will turn back. Mapped the back trail. 2 caches—then the claims on Ignatook, the creek of the stinking steam. I will go out by the Kandik. I mapped that trail. It is shorter, but I must find Pete Mateese. I must tell him—the claims."
"Who is Pete Mateese? And where is Ignatook?" inquired the boy.
"Sea'ch me!" exclaimed Waseche. "I ain't neveh hea'd tell of eitheh one, an' I be'n in Alaska goin' on fo'teen yeah."
For an hour they studied Carlson's map, which they found as he had directed, concealed in the lining of his parka. Finally Waseche Bill looked up:
"We'ah lost, kid. It's a cinch we cain't find the divide if Carlson couldn't—he know'd the country. The thing fo' us to do is to follow Carlson's map to his camp, an' then on out by the Kandik. Neah's I c'n make out, it means about three or fo' hund'ed miles of trail—but we got to tackle it. Tomorrow we'll rest an' hunt up the cache—Carlson's past needin' it now. We sho' got hea'h jest in time!"