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the North； they would stand together； hand in hand； before the great
White Throne。 And God would judge them； God would judge them！
Then Percy Cuthfert closed his eyes and dropped off to sleep。
TO THE MAN ON THE TRAIL。
'DUMP IT IN。'
'But I say； Kid； isn't that going it a little too strong' Whisky and
alcohol's bad enough； but when it comes to brandy and pepper sauce
and…'
'Dump it in。 Who's making this punch； anyway？' And Malemute Kid
smiled benignantly through the clouds of steam。 'By the time you've
been in this country as long as I have； my son； and lived on rabbit
tracks and salmon belly； you'll learn that Christmas comes only once
per annum。 And a Christmas without punch is sinking a hole to
bedrock with nary a pay streak。'
'Stack up on that fer a high cyard；' approved Big Jim Belden； who
had come down from his claim on Mazy May to spend Christmas； and
who； as everyone knew； had been living the two months past on straight
moose meat。 'Hain't fergot the hooch we…uns made on the Tanana； hey
yeh？'
'Well； I guess yes。 Boys； it would have done your hearts good to see
that whole tribe fighting drunk… and all because of a glorious ferment
of sugar and sour dough。 That was before your time；' Malemute Kid said
as he turned to Stanley Prince； a young mining expert who had been
in two years。 'No white women in the country then； and Mason wanted to
get married。 Ruth's father was chief of the Tananas； and objected；
like the rest of the tribe。 Stiff？ Why； I used my last pound of sugar；
finest work in that line I ever did in my life。 You should have seen
the chase； down the river and across the portage。'
'But the squaw？' asked Louis Savoy； the tall French Canadian；
becoming interested； for he had heard of this wild deed when at
Forty Mile the preceding winter。
Then Malemute Kid； who was a born raconteur； told the unvarnished
tale of the Northland Lochinvar。 More than one rough adventurer of the
North felt his heartstrings draw closer and experienced vague
yearnings for the sunnier pastures of the Southland； where life
promised something more than a barren struggle with cold and death。
'We struck the Yukon just behind the first ice run；' he concluded；
'and the tribe only a quarter of an hour behind。 But that saved us；
for the second run broke the jam above and shut them out。 When they
finally got into Nuklukyeto； the whole post was ready for them。 And as
to the forgathering； ask Father Roubeau here： he performed the
ceremony。'
The Jesuit took the pipe from his lips but could only express his
gratification with patriarchal smiles； while Protestant and Catholic
vigorously applauded。
'By gar！' ejaculated Louis Savoy； who seemed overcome by the romance
of it。 'La petite squaw： mon Mason brav。 By gar！'
Then； as the first tin cups of punch went round； Bettles the
Unquenchable sprang to his feet and struck up his favorite drinking
song：
'There's Henry Ward Beecher
And Sunday…school teachers；
All drink of the sassafras root；
But you bet all the same；
If it had its right name；
It's the juice of the forbidden fruit。'
'Oh； the juice of the forbidden fruit；'
roared out the bacchanalian chorus；
'Oh； the juice of the forbidden fruit；
But you bet all the same；
If it had its right name；
It's the juice of the forbidden fruit。'
Malemute Kid's frightful concoction did its work； the men of the
camps and trails unbent in its genial glow； and jest and song and
tales of past adventure went round the board。 Aliens from a dozen
lands； they toasted each and all。 It was the Englishman； Prince； who
pledged 'Uncle Sam； the precocious infant of the New World'； the
Yankee； Bettles； who drank to 'The Queen； God bless her'； and
together； Savoy and Meyers； the German trader； clanged their cups to
Alsace and Lorraine。
Then Malemute Kid arose； cup in hand； and glanced at the
greased…paper window； where the frost stood full three inches thick。
'A health to the man on trail this night； may his grub hold out； may
his dogs keep their legs； may his matches never miss fire。'
Crack！ Crack！ heard the familiar music of the dog whip； the
whining howl of the Malemutes； and the crunch of a sled as it drew
up to the cabin。 Conversation languished while they waited the issue。
'An old…timer； cares for his dogs and then himself；' whispered
Malemute Kid to Prince as they listened to the snapping jaws and the
wolfish snarls and yelps of pain which proclaimed to their practiced
ears that the stranger was beating back their dogs while he fed his
own。
Then came the expected knock； sharp and confident； and the
stranger entered。 Dazzled by the light； he hesitated a moment at the
door； giving to all a chance for scrutiny。 He was a striking
personage； and a most picturesque one； in his Arctic dress of wool and
fur。 Standing six foot two or three； with proportionate breadth of
shoulders and depth of chest； his smooth…shaven face nipped by the
cold to a gleaming pink； his long lashes and eyebrows white with
ice； and the ear and neck flaps of his great wolfskin cap loosely
raised； he seemed； of a verity； the Frost King； just stepped in out of
the night。 Clasped outside his Mackinaw jacket； a beaded belt held two
large Colt's revolvers and a hunting knife； while he carried； in
addition to the inevitable dog whip； a smokeless rifle of the
largest bore and latest pattern。 As he came forward； for all his
step was firm and elastic； they could see that fatigue bore heavily
upon him。
An awkward silence had fallen； but his hearty 'What cheer； my lads？'
put them quickly at ease； and the next instant Malemute Kid and he had
gripped hands。 Though they had never met； each had heard of the other；
and the recognition was mutual。 A sweeping introduction and a mug of
punch were forced upon him before he could explain his errand。
How long since that basket sled； with three men and eight dogs；
passed？' he asked。
'An even two days ahead。 Are you after them？'
'Yes； my team。 Run them off under my very nose； the cusses。 I've
gained two days on them already… pick them up on the next run。'
'Reckon they'll show spunk？' asked Belden； in order to keep up the
conversation； for Malemute Kid already had the coffeepot on and was
busily frying bacon and moose meat。
The stranger significantly tapped his revolvers。
'When'd yeh leave Dawson？'
'Twelve o'clock。'
'Last night？'… as a matter of course。
'Today。'
A murmur of surprise passed round the circle。 And well it might； for
it was just midnight； and seventy…five miles of rough river trail
was not to be sneered at for a twelve hours' run。
The talk soon became impersonal； however； harking back to the trails
of childhood。 As the young stranger ate of the rude fare Malemute
Kid attentively studied his face。 Nor was he long in deciding that
it was fair； honest； and open； and that he liked it。 Still youthful；
the lines had been firmly traced by toil and hardship。 Though genial
in conversation； and mild when at rest； the blue eyes gave promise
of the hard steel…glitter which comes when called into action；
especially against odds。 The heavy jaw and square…cut chin
demonstrated rugged pertinacity and indomitability。 Nor； though the
attributes of the lion were there； was there wanting the certain
softness； the hint of womanliness； which bespoke the emotional nature。
'So thet's how me an' the ol' woman got spliced；' said Belden；
concluding the exciting tale of his courtship。 '〃Here we be； Dad；〃 sez
she。 〃An' may yeh be damned；〃 sez he to her； an' then to me； ''Jim；
yeh…yeh git outen them good duds o' yourn； I want a right peart
slice o' thet forty acre plowed 'fore dinner。〃 An' then he sort o'
sniffled an' kissed her。 An' I was thet happy… but he seen me an'
roars out； ''Yeh； Jim！' An' yeh bet I dusted fer the barn。'
'Any kids waiting for you back in the States？' asked the stranger。
'Nope； Sal died 'fore any come。 Thet's why I'm here。' Belden
abstractedly began to light his pipe； which had failed to go out；
and then brightened up with； 'How 'bout yerself； stranger… married
man？'
For reply； he opened his watch； slipped it from the thong which
served for a chain； and passed it over。 Belden picked up the slush
lamp； surveyed the inside of the case critically； and； swearing
admiringly to himself； handed it over to Louis Savoy。 With numerous
'By gars！' he finally surrendered it to Prince； and they noticed
that his hands trembled and his eyes took on a peculiar softness。
And so it passed from horny hand to horny hand… the pasted
photograph of a woman； the clinging kind that such men fancy； with a
babe at the breast。 Those who had not yet seen the wonder were keen
with curiosity； those who had