Chapter 5

The Toil of Trace and TrailThirty days from the time it left Dawson, the Salt Water Mail, withBuck and his mates at the fore, arrived at Skaguay. They were in awretched state, worn out and worn down. Buck's one hundred andforty pounds had dwindled to one hundred and fifteen. The rest of hismates, though lighter dogs, had relatively lost more weight than he.

Pike, the malingerer, who, in his lifetime of deceit, had oftensuccessfully feigned a hurt leg, was now limping in earnest. Sol-lekswas limping, and Dub was suffering from a wrenched shoulder-blade.

They were all terribly footsore. No spring or rebound was left inthem. Their feet fell heavily on the trail, jarring their bodies anddoubting the fatigue of a day's travel. There was nothing the matterwith them except that they were dead tired. It was not the dead-tiredness that comes through brief and excessive effort, from whichrecovery is a matter of hours; but it was the dead-tiredness that comesthrough the slow and prolonged strength drainage of months of toil.

There was no power of recuperation left, no reserve strength to call upon.

It had been all used, the last least bit of it. Every , every fibre,every cell, was tired, dead tired. And there was reason for it. In lessthan five months they had travelled twenty-five hundred miles, duringthe last eighteen hundred of which they had had but five days' rest.

When they arrived at Skaguay they were apparently on their last legs.

They could barely keep the traces taut, and on the down grades justmanaged to keep out of the way of the sled.

"Mush on, poor sore feets," the driver encouraged them as theytottered down the main street of Skaguay. "Dis is de las'. Den we getone long res'. Eh? For sure. One bully long res'."The drivers confidently expected a long stopover. Themselves,they had covered twelve hundred miles with two days' rest, and in thenature of reason and common justice they deserved an interval of loafing.

But so many were the men who had rushed into the Klondike, and somany were the sweethearts, wives, and kin that had not rushed in, thatthe congested mail was taking on Alpine proportions; also, there wereofficial orders. Fresh batches of Hudson Bay dogs were to take theplaces of those worthless for the trail. The worthless ones were to begot rid of, and, since dogs count for little against dollars, they were to be sold.

Three days passed, by which time Buck and his mates found howreally tired and weak they were. Then, on the morning of the fourthday, two men from the States came along and bought them, harness andall, for a song. The men addressed each other as "Hal" and "Charles."Charles was a middle-aged, lightish-colored man, with weak and wateryeyes and a mustache that twisted fiercely and vigorously up, giving thelie to the limply drooping lip it concealed. Hal was a youngster ofnineteen or twenty, with a big Colt's revolver and a hunting-knifestrapped about him on a belt that fairly bristled with cartridges. Thisbelt was the most salient thing about him. It advertised his callowness--a callowness sheer and unutterable. Both men were manifestly out ofplace, and why such as they should adventure the North is part of themystery of things that passes understanding.

Buck heard the chaffering, saw the money pass between the man andthe Government agent, and knew that the Scotch half-breed and themail-train drivers were passing out of his life on the heels of Perrault andFrancois and the others who had gone before. When driven with hismates to the new owners' camp, Buck saw a slipshod and slovenly affair,tent half stretched, dishes unwashed, everything in disorder; also, he sawa woman. "Mercedes" the men called her. She was Charles's wifeand Hal's sister--a nice family party.

Buck watched them apprehensively as they proceeded to take downthe tent and load the sled. There was a great deal of effort about theirmanner, but no businesslike method. The tent was rolled into anawkward bundle three times as large as it should have been. The tindishes were packed away unwashed. Mercedes continually fluttered inthe way of her men and kept up an unbroken chattering of remonstranceand advice. When they put a clothes-sack on the front of the sled, shesuggested it should go on the back; and when they had put it on the back,and covered it over with a couple of other bundles, she discoveredoverlooked articles which could abide nowhere else but in that very sack,and they unloaded again.

Three men from a neighboring tent came out and looked on, grinningand winking at one another.

"You've got a right smart load as it is," said one of them; "and it's notme should tell you your business, but I wouldn't tote that tent along if I was you.""Undreamed of!" cried Mercedes, throwing up her hands in daintydismay. "However in the world could I manage without a tent?""It's springtime, and you won't get any more cold weather," the man replied.

She shook her head decidedly, and Charles and Hal put the last oddsand ends on top the mountainous load.

"Think it'll ride?" one of the men asked.

"Why shouldn't it?" Charles demanded rather shortly.

"Oh, that's all right, that's all right," the man hastened meekly to say.

"I was just a-wonderin', that is all. It seemed a mite top-heavy."Charles turned his back and drew the lashings down as well as hecould, which was not in the least well.

"An' of course the dogs can hike along all day with that contraptionbehind them," affirmed a second of the men.

"Certainly," said Hal, with freezing politeness, taking hold of the ustn't," as shecaught hold of the whip and wrenched it from him. "The poor dears!

Now you must promise you won't be harsh with them for the rest of thetrip, or I won't go a step.""Precious lot you know about dogs," her brother sneered; "and I wishyou'd leave me alone. They're lazy, I tell you, and you've got to whipthem to get anything out of them. That's their way. You ask any one.

Ask one of those men."Mercedes looked at them imploringly, untold repugnance at sight ofpain written in her pretty face.

"They're weak as water, if you want to know," came the reply fromone of the men. "Plum tuckered out, that's what's the matter. They need a rest.""Rest be blanked," said Hal, with his beardless lips; and Mercedessaid, "Oh!" in pain and sorrow at the oath.

But she was a clannish creature, and rushed at once to the defence ofher brother. "Never mind that man," she said pointedly. "You'redriving our dogs, and you do what you think best with them."Again Hal's whip fell upon the dogs. They threw themselvesagainst the breast-bands, dug their feet into the packed snow, got downlow to it, and put forth all their strength. The sled held as though it werean anchor. After two efforts, they stood still, panting. The whip waswhistling savagely, when once more Mercedes interfered. She droppedon her knees before Buck, with tears in her eyes, and put her armsaround his neck.

"You poor, poor dears," she cried sympathetically, "why don't youpull hard?--then you wouldn't be whipped." Buck did not like her, but hewas feeling too miserable to resist her, taking it as part of the day'smiserable work.

One of the onlookers, who had been clenching his teeth to suppresshot speech, now spoke up:--"It's not that I care a whoop what becomes of you, but for the dogs'

sakes I just want to tell you, you can help them a mighty lot by breakingout that sled. The runners are froze fast. Throw your weight againstthe gee-pole, right and left, and break it out."A third time the attempt was made, but this time, following theadvice, Hal broke out the runners which had been frozen to the snow.

The overloaded and unwieldy sled forged ahead, Buck and his matesstruggling frantically under the rain of blows. A hundred yards aheadthe path turned and sloped steeply into the main street. It would haverequired an experienced man to keep the top-heavy sled upright, and Halwas not such a man. As they swung on the turn the sled went over,spilling half its load through the loose lashings. The dogs neverstopped. The lightened sled bounded on its side behind them. Theywere angry because of the ill treatment they had received and the unjustload. Buck was raging. He broke into a run, the team following hislead. Hal cried "Whoa! whoa!" but they gave no heed. He trippedand was pulled off his feet. The capsized sled ground over him, and thedogs dashed on up the street, adding to the gayety of Skaguay as theyscattered the remainder of the outfit along its chief thoroughfare.

Kind-hearted citizens caught the dogs and gathered up the scatteredbelongings. Also, they gave advice. Half the load and twice the dogs,if they ever expected to reach Dawson, was what was said. Hal and hissister and brother-in-law listened unwillingly, pitched tent, andoverhauled the outfit. Canned goods were turned out that made menlaugh, for canned goods on the Long Trail is a thing to dream about.

"Blankets for a hotel" quoth one of the men who laughed and helped.

"Half as many is too much; get rid of them. Throw away that tent, andall those dishes,--who's going to wash them, anyway? Good Lord, doyou think you're travelling on a Pullman?"And so it went, the inexorable elimination of the superfluous.

Mercedes cried when her clothes-bags were dumped on the ground andarticle after article was thrown out. She cried in general, and she criedin particular over each discarded thing. She clasped hands about knees,rocking back and forth broken-heartedly. She averred she would not goan inch, not for a dozen Charleses. She appealed to everybody and toeverything, finally wiping her eyes and proceeding to cast out evenarticles of apparel that were imperative necessaries. And in her zeal,when she had finished with her own, she attacked the belongings of hermen and went through them like a tornado.

This accomplished, the outfit, though cut in half, was still aformidable bulk. Charles and Hal went out in the evening and boughtsix Outside dogs. These, added to the six of the original team, andTeek and Koona, the huskies obtained at the Rink Rapids on the recordtrip, brought the team up to fourteen. But the Outside dogs, thoughpractically broken in since their landing, did not amount to much.

Three were short-hairegee-pole with one hand and swinging his whip from the other. "Mush!"he shouted. "Mush on there!"The dogs sprang against the breast-bands, strained hard for a fewmoments, then relaxed. They were unable to move the sled.

"The lazy brutes, I'll show them," he cried, preparing to lash out atthem with the whip.

But Mercedes interfered, crying, "Oh, Hal, you mustn't," as shecaught hold of the whip and wrenched it from him. "The poor dears!

Now you must promise you won't be harsh with them for the rest of thetrip, or I won't go a step.""Precious lot you know about dogs," her brother sneered; "and I wishyou'd leave me alone. They're lazy, I tell you, and you've got to whipthem to get anything out of them. That's their way. You ask any one.

Ask one of those men."Mercedes looked at them imploringly, untold repugnance at sight ofpain written in her pretty face.

"They're weak as water, if you want to know," came the reply fromone of the men. "Plum tuckered out, that's what's the matter. Theyneed a rest.""Rest be blanked," said Hal, with his beardless lips; and Mercedessaid, "Oh!" in pain and sorrow at the oath.

But she was a clannish creature, and rushed at once to the defence ofher brother. "Never mind that man," she said pointedly. "You'redriving our dogs, and you do what you think best with them."Again Hal's whip fell upon the dogs. They threw themselvesagainst the breast-bands, dug their feet into the packed snow, got downlow to it, and put forth all their strength. The sled held as though it werean anchor. After two efforts, they stood still, panting. The whip waswhistling savagely, when once more Mercedes interfered. She droppedon her knees before Buck, with tears in her eyes, and put her armsaround his neck.

"You poor, poor dears," she cried sympathetically, "why don't youpull hard?--then you wouldn't be whipped." Buck did not like her, but hewas feeling too miserable to resist her, taking it as part of the day'smiserable work.

One of the onlookers, who had been clenching his teeth to suppresshot speech, now spoke up:--"It's not that I care a whoop what becomes of you, but for the dogs'

sakes I just want to tell you, you can help them a mighty lot by breakingout that sled. The runners are froze fast. Throw your weight againstthe gee-pole, right and left, and break it out."A third time the attempt was made, but this time, following theadvice, Hal broke out the runners which had been frozen to the snow.

The overloaded and unwieldy sled forged ahead, Buck and his matesstruggling frantically under the rain of blows. A hundred yards aheadthe path turned and sloped steeply into the main street. It would haverequired an experienced man to keep the top-heavy sled upright, and Halwas not such a man. As they swung on the turn the sled went over,spilling half its load through the loose lashings. The dogs neverstopped. The lightened sled bounded on its side behind them. Theywere angry because of the ill treatment they had received and the unjustload. Buck was raging. He broke into a run, the team following hislead. Hal cried "Whoa! whoa!" but they gave no heed. He trippedand was pulled off his feet. The capsized sled ground over him, and thedogs dashed on up the street, adding to the gayety of Skaguay as theyscattered the remainder of the outfit along its chief thoroughfare.

Kind-hearted citizens caught the dogs and gathered up the scatteredbelongings. Also, they gave advice. Half the load and twice the dogs,if they ever expected to reach Dawson, was what was said. Hal and hissister and brother-in-law listened unwillingly, pitched tent, andoverhauled the outfit. Canned goods were turned out that made menlaugh, for canned goods on the Long Trail is a thing to dream about.

"Blankets for a hotel" quoth one of the men who laughed and helped.

"Half as many is too much; get rid of them. Throw away that tent, andall those dishes,--who's going to wash them, anyway? Good Lord, doyou think you're travelling on a Pullman?"And so it went, the inexorable elimination of the superfluous.

Mercedes cried when her clothes-bags were dumped on the ground andarticle after article was thrown out. She cried in general, and she criedin particular over each discarded thing. She clasped hands about knees,rocking back and forth broken-heartedly. She averred she would not goan inch, not for a dozen Charleses. She appealed to everybody and toeverything, finally wiping her eyes and proceeding to cast out evenarticles of apparel that were imperative necessaries. And in her zeal,when she had finished with her own, she attacked the belongings of hermen and went through them like a tornado.

This accomplished, the outfit, though cut in half, was still aformidable bulk. Charles and Hal went out in the evening and boughtsix Outside dogs. These, added to the six of the original team, andTeek and Koona, the huskies obtained at the Rink Rapids on the recordtrip, brought the team up to fourteen. But the Outside dogs, thoughpractically broken in since their landing, did not amount to much.

Three were short-haired pointers, one was a Newfoundland, and theother two were mongrels of indeterminate breed. They did not seem toknow anything, these newcomers. Buck and his comrades looked uponthem with disgust, and though he speedily taught them their places andwhat not to do, he could not teach them what to do. They did not takekindly to trace and trail. With the exception of the two mongrels, theywere bewildered and spirit-broken by the strange savage environment inwhich they found themselves and by the ill treatment they had received.

The two mongrels were without spirit at all; bones were the only thingsbreakable about them.

With the newcomers hopeless and forlorn, and the old team worn outby twenty-five hundred miles of continuous trail, the outlook wasanything but bright. The two men, however, were quite cheerful. Andthey were proud, too. They were doing the thing in style, with fourteendogs. They had seen other sleds depart over the Pass for Dawson, orcome in from Dawson, but never had they seen a sled with so many asfourteen dogs. In the nature of Arctic travel there was a reason whyfourteen dogs should not drag one sled, and that was that one sled couldnot carry the food for fourteen dogs. But Charles and Hal did not knowthis. They had worked the trip out with a pencil, so much to a dog, somany dogs, so many days, Q.E.D. Mercedes looked over theirshoulders and nodded comprehensively, it was all so very simple.

Late next morning Buck led the long team up the street. There wasnothing lively about it, no snap or go in him and his fellows. They werestarting dead weary. Four times he had covered the distance betweenSalt Water and Dawson, and the knowledge that, jaded and tired, he wasfacing the same trail once more, made him bitter. His heart was not inthe work, nor was the heart of any dog. The Outsides were timid andfrightened, the Insides without confidence in their masters.

Buck felt vaguely that there was no depending upon these two menand the woman. They did not know how to do anything, and as thedays went by it became apparent that they could not learn. They wereslack in all things, without order or discipline. It took them half thenight to pitch a slovenly camp, and half the morning to break that campand get the sled loaded in fashion so slovenly that for the rest of the daythey were occupied in stopping and rearranging the load. Some daysthey did not make ten miles. On other days they were unable to getstarted at all. And on no day did they succeed in making more thanhalf the distance used by the men as a basis in their dog-food computation.

It was inevitable that they should go short on dog-food. But theyhastened it by overfeeding, bringing the day nearer when underfeedingwould commence. The Outside dogs, whose digestions had not beentrained by chronic famine to make the most of little, had voraciousappetites. And when, in addition to this, the worn- out huskies pulledweakly, Hal decided that the orthodox ration was too small. Hedoubled it. And to cap it all, when Mercedes, with tears in her prettyeyes and a quaver in her throat, could not cajole him into giving the dogsstill more, she stole from the fish-sacks and fed them slyly. But it wasnot food that Buck and the huskies needed, but rest. And though theywere making poor time, the heavy load they dragged sapped theirstrength severely.

Then came the underfeeding. Hal awoke one day to the fact thathis dog-food was half gone and the distance only quarter covered;further, that for love or money no additional dog-food was to beobtained. So he cut down even the orthodox ration and tried toincrease the day's travel. His sister and brother-in-law seconded him;but they were frustrated by their heavy outfit and their ownincompetence. It was a simple matter to give the dogs less food; but itwas impossible to make the dogs travel faster, while their own inabilityto get under way earlier in the morning prevented them from travellinglonger hours. Not only did they not know how to work dogs, but theydid not know how to work themselves.

The first to go was Dub. Poor blundering thief that he was, alwaysgetting caught and punished, he had none the less been a faithful worker.

His wrenched shoulder-blade, untreated and unrested, went from bad toworse, till finally Hal shot him with the big Colt's revolver. It is asaying of the country that an Outside dog starves to death on the rationof the husky, so the six Outside dogs under Buck could do no less thandie on half the ration of the husky. The Newfoundland went first,followed by the three short-haired pointers, the two mongrels hangingmore grittily on to life, but going in the end.

By this time all the amenities and gentlenesses of the Southland hadfallen away from the three people. Shorn of its glamour and romance,Arctic travel became to them a reality too harsh for their manhood andwomanhood. Mercedes ceased weeping over the dogs, being toooccupied with weeping over herself and with quarrelling with herhusband and brother. To quarrel was the one thing they were never tooweary to do. Their irritability arose out of their misery, increased withit, doubled upon it, outdistanced it. The wonderful patience of the trailwhich comes to men who toil hard and suffer sore, and remain sweet ofspeech and kindly, did not come to these two men and the woman.

They had no inkling of such a patience. They were stiff and in pain;their muscles ached, their bones ached, their very hearts ached; andbecause of this they became sharp of speech, and hard words were firston their lips in the morning and last at night.

Charles and Hal wrangled whenever Mercedes gave them a chance.

It was the cherished belief of each that he did more than his share ofthe work, and neither forbore to speak this belief at every opportunity.

Sometimes Mercedes sided with her husband, sometimes with herbrother. The result was a beautiful and unending family quarrel.

Starting from a dispute as to which should chop a few sticks for the fire(a dispute which concerned only Charles and Hal), presently would belugged in the rest of the family, fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, peoplethousands of miles away, and some of them dead. That Hal's views onart, or the sort of society plays his mother's brother wrote, should haveanything to do with the chopping of a few sticks of firewood, passescomprehension; nevertheless the quarrel was as likely to tend in thatdirection as in the direction of Charles's political prejudices. And thatCharles's sister's tale-bearing tongue should be relevant to the buildingof a Yukon fire, was apparent only to Mercedes, who disburdenedherself of copious opinions upon that topic, and incidentally upon a fewother traits unpleasantly peculiar to her husband's family. In themeantime the fire remained unbuilt, the camp half pitched, and the dogs unfed.

Mercedes nursed a special grievance--the grievance of sex. She waspretty and soft, and had been chivalrously treated all her days. But thepresent treatment by her husband and brother was everything savechivalrous. It was her custom to be helpless. They complained.

Upon which impeachment of what to her was her most essential sex-prerogative, she made their lives unendurable. She no longerconsidered the dogs, and because she was sore and tired, she persisted inriding on the sled. She was pretty and soft, but she weighed onehundred and twenty pounds--a lusty last straw to the load dragged by theweak and starving animals. She rode for days, till they fell in the tracesand the sled stood still. Charles and Hal begged her to get off and walk,pleaded with her, entreated, the while she wept and importuned Heavenwith a recital of their brutality.

On one occasion they took her off the sled by main strength. Theynever did it again. She let her legs go limp like a spoiled child, and satdown on the trail. They went on their way, but she did not move.

After they had travelled three miles they unloaded the sled, came backfor her, and by main strength put her on the sled again.

In the excess of their own misery they were callous to the sufferingof their animals. Hal's theory, which he practised on others, was thatone must get hardened. He had started out preaching it to his sister andbrother-in-law. Failing there, he hammered it into the dogs with a club.

At the Five Fingers the dog-food gave out, and a toothless old squawoffered to trade them a few pounds of frozen horse-hide for the Colt'srevolver that kept the big hunting-knife company at Hal's hip. A poorsubstitute for food was this hide, just as it had been stripped from thestarved horses of the cattlemen six months back. In its frozen state itwas more like strips of galvanized iron, and when a dog wrestled it intohis stomach it thawed into thin and innutritious leathery strings and intoa mass of short hair, irritating and indigestible.

And through it all Buck staggered along at the head of the team as ina nightmare. He pulled when he could; when he could no longer pull,he fell down and remained down till blows from whip or club drove himto his feet again. All the stiffness and gloss had gone out of hisbeautiful furry coat. The hair hung down, limp and draggled, or mattedwith dried blood where Hal's club had bruised him. His muscles hadwasted away to knotty strings, and the flesh pads had disappeared, sothat each rib and every bone in his frame were outlined cleanly throughthe loose hide that was wrinkled in folds of emptiness. It washeartbreaking, only Buck's heart was unbreakable. The man in the redsweater had proved that.

As it was with Buck, so was it with his mates. They wereperambulating skeletons. There were seven all together, including him.

In their very great misery they had become insensible to the bite of thelash or the bruise of the club. The pain of the beating was dull anddistant, just as the things their eyes saw and their ears heard seemed dulland distant. They were not half living, or quarter living. They weresimply so many bags of bones in which sparks of life fluttered faintly.

When a halt was made, they dropped down in the traces like dead dogs,and the spark dimmed and paled and seemed to go out. And when theclub or whip fell upon them, the spark fluttered feebly up, and theytottered to their feet and staggered on.

There came a day when Billee, the good-natured, fell and could notrise. Hal had traded off his revolver, so he took the axe and knockedBillee on the head as he lay in the traces, then cut the carcass out of theharness and dragged it to one side. Buck saw, and his mates saw, andthey knew that this thing was very close to them. On the next dayKoona went, and but five of them remained: Joe, too far gone to bemalignant; Pike, crippled and limping, only half conscious and notconscious enough longer to malinger; Sol-leks, the one-eyed, stillfaithful to the toil of trace and trail, and mournful in that he had so littlestrength with which to pull; Teek, who had not travelled so far thatwinter and who was now beaten more than the others because he wasfresher; and Buck, still at the head of the team, but no longer enforcingdiscipline or striving to enforce it, blind with weakness half the time andkeeping the trail by the loom of it and by the dim feel of his feet.

It was beautiful spring weather, but neither dogs nor humans wereaware of it. Each day the sun rose earlier and set later. It was dawnby three in the morning, and twilight lingered till nine at night. Thewhole long day was a blaze of sunshine. The ghostly winter silencehad given way to the great spring murmur of awakening life. Thismurmur arose from all the land, fraught with the joy of living. It camefrom the things that lived and moved again, things which had been asdead and which had not moved during the long months of frost. Thesap was rising in the pines. The willows and aspens were bursting outin young buds. Shrubs and vines were putting on fresh garbs of green.

Crickets sang in the nights, and in the days all manner of creeping,crawling things rustled forth into the sun. Partridges and woodpeckerswere booming and knocking in the forest. Squirrels were chattering,birds singing, and overhead honked the wild-fowl driving up from thesouth in cunning wedges that split the air.

From every hill slope came the trickle of running water, the music ofunseen fountains. AU things were thawing, bending, snapping. TheYukon was straining to break loose the ice that bound it down. It ateaway from beneath; the sun ate from above. Air-holes formed, fissuressprang and spread apart, while thin sections of ice fell through bodilyinto the river. And amid all this bursting, rending, throbbing ofawakening life, under the blazing sun and through the soft-sighingbreezes, like wayfarers to death, staggered the two men, the woman, andthe huskies.

With the dogs falling, Mercedes weeping and riding, Hal swearinginnocuously, and Charles's eyes wistfully watering, they staggered intoJohn Thornton's camp at the mouth of White River. When they halted,the dogs dropped down as though they had all been struck dead.

Mercedes dried her eyes and looked at John Thornton. Charles satdown on a log to rest. He sat down very slowly and painstakingly whatof his great stiffness. Hal did the talking. John Thornton waswhittling the last touches on an axe-handle he had made from a stick ofbirch. He whittled and listened, gave monosyllabic replies, and,when it was asked, terse advice. He knew the breed, and he gave hisadvice in the certainty that it would not be followed.

"They told us up above that the bottom was dropping out of the trailand that the best thing for us to do was to lay over," Hal said in responseto Thornton's warning to take no more chances on the rotten ice. "Theytold us we couldn't make White River, and here we are." This last with asneering ring of triumph in it.

"And they told you true," John Thornton answered. "The bottom'slikely to drop out at any moment. Only fools, with the blind luck offools, could have made it. I tell you straight, I wouldn't risk my carcasson that ice for all the gold in Alaska.""That's because you're not a fool, I suppose," said Hal. "All the same,we'll go on to Dawson." He uncoiled his whip. "Get up there, Buck! Hi!

Get up there! Mush on!"Thornton went on whittling. It was idle, he knew, to get between afool and his folly; while two or three fools more or less would not alterthe scheme of things.

But the team did not get up at the command. It had long sincepassed into the stage where blows were required to rouse it. The whipflashed out, here and there, on its merciless errands. John Thorntoncompressed his lips. Sol-leks was the first to crawl to his feet. Teekfollowed. Joe came next, yelping with pain. Pike made painfulefforts. Twice he fell over, when half up, and on the third attemptmanaged to rise. Buck made no effort. He lay quietly where he hadfallen. The lash bit into him again and again, but he neither whined norstruggled. Several times Thornton started, as though to speak, butchanged his mind. A moisture came into his eyes, and, as the whippingcontinued, he arose and walked irresolutely up and down.

This was the first time Buck had failed, in itself a sufficient reason todrive Hal into a rage. He exchanged the whip for the customary club.

Buck refused to move under the rain of heavier blows which now fellupon him. Like his mates, he barely able to get up, but, unlike them, hehad made up his mind not to get up. He had a vague feeling ofimpending doom. This had been strong upon him when he pulled in tothe bank, and it had not departed from him. What of the thin and rottenice he had felt under his feet all day, it seemed that he sensed disasterclose at hand, out there ahead on the ice where his master was trying todrive him. He refused to stir. So greatly had he suffered, and so fargone was he, that the blows did not hurt much. And as they continuedto fall upon him, the spark of life within flickered and went down. Itwas nearly out. He felt strangely numb. As though from a greatdistance, he was aware that he was being beaten. The last sensations ofpain left him. He no longer felt anything, though very faintly he couldhear the impact of the club upon his body. But it was no longer hisbody, it seemed so far away.

And then, suddenly, without warning, uttering a cry that wasinarticulate and more like the cry of an animal, John Thornton sprangupon the man who wielded the club. Hal was hurled backward, asthough struck by a failing tree. Mercedes screamed. Charles looked onwistfully, wiped his watery eyes, but did not get up because of hisstiffness.

John Thornton stood over Buck, struggling to control himself, tooconvulsed with rage to speak.

"If you strike that dog again, I'll kill you," he at last managed to sayin a choking voice.

"It's my dog," Hal replied, wiping the blood from his mouth as hecame back. "Get out of my way, or I'll fix you. I'm going to Dawson."Thornton stood between him and Buck, and evinced no intention ofgetting out of the way. Hal drew his long hunting-knife. Mercedesscreamed. cried, laughed, and manifested the chaotic abandonment ofhysteria. Thornton rapped Hal's knuckles with the axe-handle,knocking the knife to the ground. He rapped his knuckles again as hetried to pick it up. Then he stooped, picked it up himself, and with twostrokes cut Buck's traces.

Hal had no fight left in him. Besides, his hands were full with hissister, or his arms, rather; while Buck was too near dead to be of furtheruse in hauling the sled. A few minutes later they pulled out from thebank and down the river. Buck heard them go and raised his head tosee, Pike was leading, Sol-leks was at the wheel, and between were Joeand Teek. They were limping and staggering. Mercedes was ridingthe loaded sled. Hal guided at the gee-pole, and Charles stumbledalong in the rear.

As Buck watched them, Thornton knelt beside him and with rough,kindly hands searched for broken bones. By the time his search haddisclosed nothing more than many bruises and a state of terriblestarvation, the sled was a quarter of a mile away. Dog and manwatched it crawling along over the ice. Suddenly, they saw its backend drop down, as into a rut, and the gee-pole, with Hal clinging to it,jerk into the air. Mercedes's scream came to their ears. They sawCharles turn and make one step to run back, and then a whole section ofice give way and dogs and humans disappear. A yawning hole was allthat was to be seen. The bottom had dropped out of the trail.

John Thornton and Buck looked at each other.

"You poor devil," said John Thornton, and Buck licked his hand.