The Magnetic North Part 48
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"How is that possible when it's been carried four thousand miles?"
"Because the A. C. and N. A. T. and T. boats got frozen in this side of Dawson. They know by the time they get there in June a lot of stuff will have come in by the short route through the lakes, and the town will be overstocked. So there's flour and bacon to burn when you get up as far as Minook. It's only along the Lower River there's any real scarcity."
The Big Chimney men exchanged significant looks.
"And there are more supply-boats wintering up at Fort Yukon and at Circle City," the General went on. "I tell you on the Upper River there's food to burn."
Again the Big Chimney men looked at one another. The General kept helping himself to punch, and as he tossed it off he would say, "Minook's the camp for me!" When he had given vent to this conviction three times, Benham, who hadn't spoken since their entrance, said quietly:
"And you're going away from it as hard as you can pelt."
The General turned moist eyes upon him.
"Are you a man of family, sir?"
"No."
"Then I cannot expect you to understand." His eyes brimmed at some thought too fine and moving for public utterance.
Each member of the camp sat deeply cogitating. Not only gold at Minook, but food! In the inner vision of every eye was a s.h.i.+p-load of provisions "frozen in" hard by a placer claim; in every heart a fervid prayer for a dog-team.
The Boy jumped up, and ran his fingers through his long wild hair. He panted softly like a hound straining at a leash. Then, with an obvious effort to throw off the magic of Minook, he turned suddenly about, and "Poor old Kaviak!" says he, looking round and speaking in quite an everyday sort of voice.
The child was leaning against the door clasping the forgotten Christmas-tree so tight against the musk-rat coat that the branches hid his face. From time to time with reverent finger he touched silver boat and red-foil top, and watched, fascinated, how they swung. A white child in a tenth of the time would have eaten the cakes, torn off the transfiguring tinfoil, tired of the tree, and forgotten it. The Boy felt some compunction at the sight of Kaviak's steadfast fidelity.
"Look here, we'll set the tree up where you can see it better." He put an empty bucket on the table, and with Mac's help, wedged the spruce in it firmly, between some blocks of wood and books of the law.
The cabin was very crowded. Little Mr. Schiff was sitting on the cricket. Kaviak retired to his old seat on Elephas beyond the bunks, where he still had a good view of the wonderful tree, agreeably lit by what was left of the two candles.
"Those things are good to eat, you know," said the Colonel kindly.
Mac cut down a gingerbread man and gave it into the tiny hands.
"What wind blew that thing into your cabin?" asked the General, squinting up his snow-blinded eyes at the dim corner where Kaviak sat.
There wasn't a man in the camp who didn't resent the millionaire's tone.
"This is a great friend of ours--ain't you, Kaviak?" said the Boy.
"He's got a soul above gold-mines, haven't you? He sees other fellas helping themselves to his cricket and his high chair--too polite to object--just goes and sits like a philosopher on the bones of dead devils and looks on. Other fellas sittin' in his place talkin' about gold and drinkin' punch--never offerin' him a drop--"
Several cups were held out, but Mac motioned them back.
"I don't think," says John Dillon slyly--"don't think _this_ punch will hurt the gentleman."
And a roar went up at the Colonel's expense. General Lighter pulled himself to his feet, saying there was a little good Old Rye left outside, and he could stock up again when he got to the _Oklahoma_.
"Oh, and it's yersilf that don't shoy off from a dthrop o' the craythur whin yer thravellin' the thrail."
Everybody looked at Benham. He got up and began to put on his furs; his dog-driver, squatting by the door, took the hint, and went out to see after the team.
"Oh, well," said the General to O'Flynn, "it's Christmas, you know"; and he picked his way among the closely-packed company to the door.
"We ought to be movin', too," said Dillon, straightening up. The General halted, depressed at the reminder. "You know we swore we wouldn't stop again unless--"
"Look here, didn't you hear me saying it was Christmas?"
"You been sayin' that for twenty-four hours. Been keepin' Christmas right straight along since yesterday mornin." But the General had gone out to unpack the whisky. "He knocked up the mission folks, bright and early yesterday, to tell 'em about the Glad News Tiding's--Diggin's, I mean."
"What did they say?"
"Weren't as good an audience as the General's used to; that's why we pushed on. We'd heard about your camp, and the General felt a call to preach the Gospel accordin' to Minook down this way."
"He don't seem to be standin' the racket as well as you," said Schiff.
"Well, sir, this is the first time I've found him wantin' to hang round after he's thoroughly rubbed in the news."
Dillon moved away from the fire; the crowded cabin was getting hot.
Nevertheless the Colonel put on more wood, explaining to Salmon P. and the others, who also moved back, that it was for illuminating purposes--those two candles burning down low, each between three nails in a little slab of wood--those two had been kept for Christmas, and were the last they had.
In the general movement from the fire, Benham, putting on his cap and gloves, had got next to Dillon.
"Look here," said the Trader, under cover of the talk about candles, "what sort of a trip have you had?"
The Yukon pioneer looked at him a moment, and then took his pipe out of his mouth to say:
"Rank."
"No fun, hey?"
"That's right." He restored the pipe, and drew gently.
"And yet to hear the General chirp--"
"He's got plenty o' grit, the General has."
"Has he got gold?"
Dillon nodded. "Or will have."
"Out of Minook?"
"Out of Minook."
"In a sort of a kind of a way. I think I understand." Benham wagged his head. "He's talkin' for a market."
Dillon smoked.
"Goin' out to stir up a boom, and sell his claim to some sucker."
The Magnetic North Part 48
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The Magnetic North Part 48 summary
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