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board bill； which was just； being the law of the land； but it was mighty
hard on us； especially that first winter on the Chilcoot； when we were
busted； paying for whole hams and sides of bacon that we never ate。 He
could fight； too； that Spot。 He could do everything but work。 He never
pulled a pound； but he was the boss of the whole team。 The way he made
those dogs stand around was an education。 He bullied them； and there
was always one or more of them fresh…marked with his fangs。 But he
was more than a bully。 He wasn't afraid of anything that walked on four
legs； and I've seen him march； single…handed into a strange team； without
any provocation whatever； and put the kibosh on the whole outfit。 Did I
say he could eat？ I caught him eating the whip once。 That's straight。
He started in at the lash； and when I caught him he was down to the handle；
and still going。
But he was a good looker。 At the end of the first week we sold him
for seventy…five dollars to the Mounted Police。 They had experienced
dog…drivers； and we knew that by the time he'd covered the six hundred
miles to Dawson he'd be a good sled…dog。 I say we KNEW； for we were
just getting acquainted with that Spot。 A little later we were not brash
enough to know anything where he was concerned。 A week later we
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woke up in the morning to the dangdest dog…fight we'd ever heard。 It
was that Spot come back and knocking the team into shape。 We ate a
pretty depressing breakfast； I can tell you； but cheered up two hours
afterward when we sold him to an official courier； bound in to Dawson
with government despatches。 That Spot was only three days in coming
back； and； as usual； celebrated his arrival with a rough house。
We spent the winter and spring； after our own outfit was across the
pass； freighting other people's outfits； and we made a fat stake。 Also； we
made money out of Spot。 If we sold him once； we sold him twenty times。
He always came back； and no one asked for their money。 We didn't want
the money。 We'd have paid handsomely for any one to take him off our
hands for keeps'。 We had to get rid of him； and we couldn't give him
away； for that would have been suspicious。 But he was such a fine looker
that we never had any difficulty in selling him。 〃Unbroke；〃 we'd say； and
they'd pay any old price for him。 We sold him as low as twenty…five
dollars； and once we got a hundred and fifty for him。 That particular
party returned him in person； refused to take his money back； and the way
he abused us was something awful。 He said it was cheap at the price to tell
us what he thought of us； and we felt he was so justified that we never
talked back。 But to this day I've never quite regained all the old self…
respect that was mine before that man talked to me。
When the ice cleared out of the lakes and river； we put our outfit in a
Lake Bennett boat and started for Dawson。 We had a good team of dogs；
and of course we piled them on top the outfit。 That Spot was along
there was no losing him； and a dozen times； the first day； he knocked one
or another of the dogs overboard in the course of fighting with them。 It
was close quarters； and he didn't like being crowded。
〃What that dog needs is space；〃 Steve said the second day。 〃Let's
maroon him。〃
We did； running the boat in at Caribou Crossing for him to jump
ashore。 Two of the other dogs； good dogs； followed him； and we lost two
whole days trying to find them。 We never saw those two dogs again； but
the quietness and relief we enjoyed made us decide； like the man who
refused his hundred and fifty； that it was cheap at the price。 For the first
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time in months Steve and I laughed and whistled and sang。 We were as
happy as clams。 The dark days were over。 The nightmare had been
lifted。 That Spot was gone。
Three weeks later； one morning； Steve and I were standing on the
river…bank at Dawson。 A small boat was just arriving from Lake Bennett。
I saw Steve give a start； and heard him say something that was not nice
and that was not under his breath。 Then I looked； and there； in the bow
of the boat； with ears pricked up； sat Spot。 Steve and I sneaked
immediately； like beaten curs； like cowards； like absconders from justice。
It was this last that the lieutenant of police thought when he saw us
sneaking。 He surmised that there were law…officers in the boat who were
after us。 He didn't wait to find out； but kept us in sight； and in the M。 &
M。 saloon got us in a corner。 We had a merry time explaining； for we
refused to go back to the boat and meet Spot； and finally he held us under
guard of another policeman while he went to the boat。 After we got clear
of him； we started for the cabin； and when we arrived； there was that Spot
sitting on the stoop waiting for us。 Now how did he know we lived there？
There were forty thousand people in Dawson that summer； and how did he
savve our cabin out of all the cabins？ How did he know we were in
Dawson； anyway？ I leave it to you。 But don't forget what I said about
his intelligence and that immortal something I have seen glimmering in his
eyes。
There was no getting rid of him any more。 There were too many
people in Dawson who had bought him up on Chilcoot； and the story got
around。 Half a dozen times we put him on board steamboats going down
the Yukon； but he merely went ashore at the first landing and trotted back
up the bank。 We couldn't sell him； we couldn't kill him （both Steve and I
had tried）； and nobody else was able to kill him。 He bore a charmed life。
I've seen him go down in a dogfight on the main street with fifty dogs on
top of him； and when they were separated； he'd appear on all his four legs；
unharmed； while two of the dogs that had been on top of him would be
lying dead。
I saw him steal a chunk of moose…meat from Major Dinwiddie's cache
so heavy that he could just keep one jump ahead of Mrs。 Dinwiddie's
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squaw cook； who was after him with an axe。 As he went up the hill； after
the squaw gave up； Major Dinwiddie himself came out and pumped his
Winchester into the landscape。 He emptied his magazine twice； and
never touched that Spot。 Then a policeman came along and arrested him
for discharging firearms inside the city limits。 Major Dinwiddie paid his
fine； and Steve and I paid him for the moose…meat at the rate of a dollar a
pound； bones and all。 That was what he paid for it。 Meat was high that
year。
I am only telling what I saw with my own eyes。 And now I'll tell you
something also。 I saw that Spot fall through a water…hole。 The ice was
three and a half feet thick； and the current sucked him under like a straw。
Three hundred yards below was the big water…hole used by the hospital。
Spot crawled out of the hospital water…hole； licked off the water； bit out
the ice that had formed between his toes； trotted up the bank； and whipped
a big Newfoundland belonging to the Gold Commissioner。
In the fall of 1898； Steve and I poled up the Yukon on the last water；
bound for Stewart River。 We took the dogs along； all except Spot。 We
figured we'd been feeding him long enough。 He'd cost us more time and
trouble and money and grub than we'd got by selling him on the Chilcoot
especially grub。 So Steve and I tied him down in the cabin and pulled