Connie Morgan in Alaska

ogs, an' we got to cut down on the feed. I hate to do it-on the trail-but they's no two ways about it. Three or

pleasant. The sun had not yet risen, and as the dogs swung into the trail Connie glanced at the little thermometer lashed firmly to the back of his sled

between them and Alaska. For, upon ascending the Tatonduk, they had passed out of Alaska into the unmapped Yukon district of sub-arctic Canada. Evening of the second day found them among the foothills of the mountains. Patches of stunted timber appeared and the lay of the land forced them to

n't sho'. I thought the one we tackled yest

back trail, but since the big snow everything looks differen

ck-then. Anyways, we'll try this one. We got to watch the grub now, fo' sho'. Them malamutes is

ooks like the creek. Still, so do

s source in a narrow canyon which lost itself upon the steep side of a gigantic mountain. We

d on, scrutinizing the mouths of creeks in a vain endeavour to locate a

," answered the boy, br

an' of these creeks, all jest alike, do

ill a dog,"

; onct they get good an' hongry they'll begin tearin' one ano

et above the surrounding level. The sleds were drawn up at the foot of this mound, the dogs unharnessed, and, unslinging his axe, Waseche Bill went to the thicket for firewood, leaving Connie to unpack the outfit. The

"way off by yourself. You look lonesome. Mayb

o the dogs. Supper was finished in silence, the fire replenished, and the two partners lay bac

e thicket is stubs wheah fiahwood's be'n chopped-an' one place wheah consid'able poles has be'n cut. The

what became of them? What

round a bit in the mo'nin'. Me'be we c'n find out who they was, an' wheah they was

cache. Then we wouldn

row puckere

wenty-one dawgs-that ain't right. Likewise with ouah own grub-a man's supposed to take from anotheh man's cache jest so much as is needful fo' life; that is, what will get him to the neahest camp-not an ounce mo'. This is the unwritt

Slasher dug their beds in the side of the mound near where Connie had spread his robes. The boy watched them idly as they threw the hard, dry snow behind them

e boy, as he glanced toward the tunnel fr

seemingly from the depths of the earth, came the sound of a muffled bark. Instantly Slasher was on his feet growl

Connie, pushing aside the growlin

ting a spruce twig torch.

covery. Waseche Bill lighted his torch at the fire, and pushing it before him, wriggled into the opening. After

ed the impatient boy

ly for a moment, and then

ked the hard-packed

loo buried in the snow. A

ied the ast

t's Carlson

igloo. More firewood was cut, and by the light of the leaping flames Waseche Bill attacked the hard-packed snow with his axe, while Connie busied him

er the various bags of provisions piled upon the snow floor. "He didn't stahve, an

sleep, had it not been for the marble whiteness of the skin. One by one, they examined all the dead man's effects; the little Yukon stove, half f

a rudely shaped copper pan in which a bit of wicking made from

e thong Waseche removed from beneath the shirt a flat pouch of oiled canvas. Connie lighted the wick in the copper pan and together the two sat upon a robe and, in the guttering flare o

eche, handing the book to Connie, and his eyes glowed with

age an' wo'k back,"

arly a year ago! He couldn't have been dead a ye

's froze solid as stone, an' he'll stay like that

For two days no fire. Too weak. Pain gone, but c

ed almost entirely to a record of the progress of the disease. The firs

ut 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 Pet

man seemed to grow rapidly weaker. When

He went marihuana." On the next page, unde

t's a cinch we cain

2 caches-then the claims on Ignatook, the creek of the stinking steam. I will go out by the Kand

And where is Ignatoo

t neveh hea'd tell of eitheh one, an' I

ey found as he had directed, concealed in the li

low 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 tr