As the winter wore on the cold grew more intense. Ice on the streams was thick. Wild animals appeared to vanish from the scene. Snow covered much of the river surfaces. All these things served to make “bringing them home alive” more difficult.
At last the boys gave up this strange occupation and turned to the task of clearing the ten-acre tract.
“If we can get that tract cleared we’ll plant it in barley, oats and peas. When these are ground together they make excellent chicken feed. We’ll go in for poultry. There’s a steady market for dressed chickens and eggs at Fairbanks,” said Mr. Lawson.
“Yes, if we get that tract cleared,” Lawrence thought, but did not say. No further suggestion that they go into debt for a tractor was made by anyone.
The long Arctic evenings were divided between games and dreaming. The fame of Johnny’s and Joe’s boxing had traveled far. The recreation room at Palmer was given over to this excellent sport two nights a week.
A boxing club was formed. Even Jack Mayhorn dropped his feud with Johnny and joined up. Members of a boxing club at Seward accepted an invitation for a contest. Johnny and Joe won this by a narrow margin.
On the evenings when business or pleasure did not take them to town Johnny and Lawrence might often be found dreaming by their own hearth-fire.
“When the land is cleared and plowed, when the grain is sowed and we’ve earned a breathing spell,” Lawrence would say, “then we’ll hunt up old Smokey Joe and go out for one of those glacier bears.”
“If we can find Smokey Joe,” Johnny would smilingly agree. “And if they don’t need us for service in Bristol Bay.”
“Bristol Bay,” Lawrence would reply doubtfully. “Seems as if I’d rather catch animals alive than go after those Orientals.”