smoke bellew-第18部分

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Later；　back　in　the　cabin；　Shorty　silently　overhauled　and　hefted　the　various　bulging　gold…sacks。　　He　finally　piled　them　on　the　table；　sat　down　on　the　edge　of　his　bunk；　and　began　taking　off　his　moccasins。

〃Seventy　thousan'；〃　he　calculated。　　〃It　weighs　three　hundred　and　fifty　pounds。　　And　all　out　of　a　warped　wheel　an'　a　quick　eye。　Smoke；　you　eat'm　raw；　you　eat'm　alive；　you　work　under　water；　you've　given　me　the　jim…jams；　but　just　the　same　I　know　it's　a　dream。　　It's　only　in　dreams　that　the　good　things　comes　true。　　I'm　almighty　unanxious　to　wake　up。　　I　hope　I　never　wake　up。〃

〃Cheer　up；〃　Smoke　answered。　　〃You　won't。　　There　are　a　lot　of　philosophy　sharps　that　think　men　are　sleep…walkers。　　You're　in　good　company。〃

Shorty　got　up；　went　to　the　table；　selected　the　heaviest　sack；　and　cuddled　it　in　his　arms　as　if　it　were　a　baby。

〃I　may　be　sleep…walkin'；〃　he　said；　〃but　as　you　say；　I'm　sure　in　mighty　good　company。〃




THE　MAN　ON　THE　OTHER　BANK。




I。

It　was　before　Smoke　Bellew　staked　the　farcical　town…site　of　Tra…Lee；　made　the　historic　corner　of　eggs　that　nearly　broke　Swiftwater　Bill's　bank　account；　or　won　the　dog…team　race　down　the　Yukon　for　an　even　million　dollars；　that　he　and　Shorty　parted　company　on　the　Upper　Klondike。　　Shorty's　task　was　to　return　down　the　Klondike　to　Dawson　to　record　some　claims　they　had　staked。

Smoke；　with　the　dog…team；　turned　south。　　His　quest　was　Surprise　Lake　and　the　mythical　Two　Cabins。　　His　traverse　was　to　cut　the　headwaters　of　the　Indian　River　and　cross　the　unknown　region　over　the　mountains　to　the　Stewart　River。　　Here；　somewhere；　rumour　persisted；　was　Surprise　Lake；　surrounded　by　jagged　mountains　and　glaciers；　its　bottom　paved　with　raw　gold。　　Old…timers；　it　was　said；　whose　very　names　were　forgotten　in　the　forests　of　earlier　years；　had　dived　in　the　ice…waters　of　Surprise　Lake　and　fetched　lump…gold　to　the　surface　in　both　hands。　　At　different　times；　parties　of　old…timers　had　penetrated　the　forbidding　fastness　and　sampled　the　lake's　golden　bottom。　　But　the　water　was　too　cold。　　Some　died　in　the　water；　being　pulled　up　dead。　　Others　died　of　consumption。　　And　one　who　had　gone　down　never　did　come　up。　　All　survivors　had　planned　to　return　and　drain　the　lake；　yet　none　had　ever　gone　back。　　Disaster　always　happened。　　One　man　fell　into　an　air…hole　below　Forty　Mile；　another　was　killed　and　eaten　by　his　dogs；　a　third　was　crushed　by　a　falling　tree。　　And　so　the　tale　ran。　　Surprise　Lake　was　a　hoodoo；　its　location　was　unremembered；　and　the　gold　still　paved　its　undrained　bottom。

Two　Cabins；　no　less　mythical；　was　more　definitely　located。　　'Five　sleeps；'　up　the　McQuestion　River　from　the　Stewart；　stood　two　ancient　cabins。　　So　ancient　were　they　that　they　must　have　been　built　before　ever　the　first　known　gold…hunter　had　entered　the　Yukon　Basin。　Wandering　moose…hunters；　whom　even　Smoke　had　met　and　talked　with；　claimed　to　have　found　the　two　cabins　in　the　old　days；　but　to　have　sought　vainly　for　the　mine　which　those　early　adventurers　must　have　worked。

〃I　wish　you　was　goin'　with　me；〃　Shorty　said　wistfully；　at　parting。　〃Just　because　you　got　the　Indian　bug　ain't　no　reason　for　to　go　pokin'　into　trouble。　　They's　no　gettin'　away　from　it；　that's　loco　country　you're　bound　for。　　The　hoodoo's　sure　on　it；　from　the　first　flip　to　the　last　call；　judgin'　from　all　you　an'　me　has　hearn　tell　about　it。〃

〃It's　all　right；　Shorty。　　I'll　make　the　round　trip　and　be　back　in　Dawson　in　six　weeks。　　The　Yukon　trail　is　packed；　and　the　first　hundred　miles　or　so　of　the　Stewart　ought　to　be　packed。　　Old…timers　from　Henderson　have　told　me　a　number　of　outfits　went　up　last　fall　after　the　freeze…up。　　When　I　strike　their　trail　I　ought　to　hit　her　up　forty　or　fifty　miles　a　day。　　I'm　likely　to　be　back　inside　a　month；　once　I　get　across。〃

〃Yes；　once　you　get　acrost。　　But　it's　the　gettin'　acrost　that　worries　me。　　Well；　so　long；　Smoke。　　Keep　your　eyes　open　for　that　hoodoo；　that's　all。　　An'　don't　be　ashamed　to　turn　back　if　you　don't　kill　any　meat。〃



II。

A　week　later；　Smoke　found　himself　among　the　jumbled　ranges　south　of　Indian　River。　　On　the　divide　from　the　Klondike　he　had　abandoned　the　sled　and　packed　his　wolf…dogs。　　The　six　big　huskies　each　carried　fifty　pounds；　and　on　his　own　back　was　an　equal　burden。　　Through　the　soft　snow　he　led　the　way；　packing　it　down　under　his　snow…shoes；　and　behind；　in　single　file；　toiled　the　dogs。

He　loved　the　life；　the　deep　arctic　winter；　the　silent　wilderness；　the　unending　snow…surface　unpressed　by　the　foot　of　any　man。　　About　him　towered　icy　peaks　unnamed　and　uncharted。　　No　hunter's　camp…　smoke；　rising　in　the　still　air　of　the　valleys；　ever　caught　his　eye。　He；　alone；　moved　through　the　brooding　quiet　of　the　untravelled　wastes；　nor　was　he　oppressed　by　the　solitude。　　He　loved　it　all；　the　day's　toil；　the　bickering　wolf…dogs；　the　making　of　the　camp　in　the　long　twilight；　the　leaping　stars　overhead　and　the　flaming　pageant　of　the　aurora　borealis。

Especially　he　loved　his　camp　at　the　end　of　the　day；　and　in　it　he　saw　a　picture　which　he　ever　yearned　to　paint　and　which　he　knew　he　would　never　forgeta　beaten　place　in　the　snow；　where　burned　his　fire；　his　bed；　a　couple　of　rabbit…skin　robes　spread　on　fresh…chopped　spruce…　boughs；　his　shelter；　a　stretched　strip　of　canvas　that　caught　and　threw　back　the　heat　of　the　fire；　the　blackened　coffee…pot　and　pail　resting　on　a　length　of　log；　the　moccasins　propped　on　sticks　to　dry；　the　snow…shoes　up…ended　in　the　snow；　and　across　the　fire　the　wolf…　dogs　snuggling　to　it　for　the　warmth；　wistful　and　eager；　furry　and　frost…rimed；　with　bushy　tails　curled　protectingly　over　their　feet；　and　all　about；　pressed　backward　but　a　space；　the　wall　of　encircling　darkness。

At　such　times　San　Francisco；　The　Billow；　and　O'Hara　seemed　very　far　away；　lost　in　a　remote　past；　shadows　of　dreams　that　had　never　happened。　　He　found　it　hard　to　believe　that　he　had　known　any　other　life　than　this　of　the　wild；　and　harder　still　was　it　for　him　to　reconcile　himself　to　the　fact　that　he　had　once　dabbled　and　dawdled　in　the　Bohemian　drift　of　city　life。　　Alone；　with　no　one　to　talk　to；　he　thought　much；　and　deeply；　and　simply。　　He　was　appalled　by　the　wastage　of　his　city　years；　by　the　cheapness；　now；　of　the　philosophies　of　the　schools　and　books；　of　the　clever　cynicism　of　the　studio　and　editorial　room；　of　the　cant　of　the　business　men　in　their　clubs。　　They　knew　neither　food　nor　sleep；　nor　health；　nor　could　they　ever　possibly　know　the　sting　of　real　appetite；　the　goodly　ache　of　fatigue；　nor　the　rush　of　mad　strong　blood　that　bit　like　wine　through　all　one's　body　as　work　was　done。

And　all　the　time　this　fine；　wise；　Spartan　North　Land　had　been　here；　and　he　had　never　known。　　What　puzzled　him　was；　that；　with　such　intrinsic　fitness；　he　had　never　heard　the　slightest　calling　whisper；　had　not　himself　gone　forth　to　seek。　　But　this；　too；　he　solved　in　time。

〃Look　here；　Yellow…face；　I've　got　it　clear！〃

The　dog　addressed　lifted　first　one　fore…foot　and　then　the　other　with　quick；　appeasing　movements；　curled　his　bush　of　a　tail　about　them　again；　and　laughed　across　the　fire。

〃Herbert　Spencer　was　nearly　forty　before　he　caught　the　vision　of　his　greatest　efficiency　and　desire。　　I'm　none　so　slow。　　I　didn't　have　to　wait　till　I　was　thirty　to　catch　mine。　　Right　here　is　my　efficiency　and　desire。　　Almost；　Yellow　Face；　do　I　wish　I　had　been　born　a　wolf…　boy　and　been　brother　all　my　days　to　you　and　yours。〃

For　days　he　wandered　through　a　chaos　of　canyons　and　divides　which　did　not　yield　themselves　to　any　rational　topographical　plan。　　It　was　as　if　they　had　been　flung　there　by　some　cosmic　joker。　　In　vain　he　sought　for　a　creek　or　feeder　that　flowed　truly　south　toward　the　McQuestion　and　the　Stewart。　　Then　came　a　mountain　storm　that　blew　a　blizzard　across　the　riff…raff　of　high　and　shallow　divides。　　Above　timber…line；　fireless；　for　two　days；　he　struggled　blindly　to　find　lower　levels。　　On　the　second　day　he　came　out　upon　the　rim　of　an　enormous　palisade。　　So　thickly　drove　the　snow　that　he　could　not　see　the　base　of　the　wall；　nor　dared　he　attempt　the　descent。　　He　rolled　himself　in　his　robes　and　huddled　the　dogs　about　him　in　the　depths　of　a　snow…drift；　but　did　not　permit　himself　to　sleep。

In　the　morning；　the　storm　spent；　he　crawled　out　to　investigate。　　A　quarter　of　a　mile　beneath　him；　beyond　all　mistake；　lay　a　frozen；　snow…covered　lake。　　About　it；　on　every　side；　rose　jagged　peaks。　　It　answered　the　description。　　Blindly；　he　had　found　Surprise　Lake。

〃Well…named；〃　he　muttered；　an　hour　later；　as　he　came　out　upon　its　margin。　　A　clump　of　aged　spruce　was　the　only　woods。　　On　his　way　to　it；　he　stumbled　upon　three　graves；　snow…buried；　but　marked　by　hand…　hewn　head…posts　and　undecipherable　writing。　　On　the　edge　of　the　woods　was　a　small　ramshackle　cabin。　　He　pulled　the　latch　and　entered。　　In　a　corner；　on　what　had　once　been　a　bed　of　spruce…boughs；　still　wrapped　in　mangy　furs；　that　had　rotted　to　fragments；　lay　a　skeleton。　　The　last　visitor　to　Surprise　Lake；　was　Smoke's　conclusion；　as　he　picked　up　a　lump　of　gold　as　large　as　his　doubled　fist。　　Beside　the　lump　was　a　pepper…can　filled　with　nuggets　of　the　size　of　walnuts；　rough…surfaced；　showing　no　signs　of　wash。

So　true　had　the　tale　run；　that　Smoke　accepted　without　question　that　the　source　of　the　gold　was　the　lake's　bottom。　　Under　many　feet