Frank Richardson Pierce

“ Walton fought and clawed his way from the wreckage to the floe. There were men below in the fo’c’stle, but they died silently. The blue-eyed Swede burst from the wheelhouse and tore the covering from the narrow, squarish opening leading down to the engine-room. Old Schwartz was down there with his rheumatism, stiff-legged, unable to climb a ladder. A bit of blue haze came from below as the Swede disappeared; the screaming of the splintering schooner was like some living thing dying in agony. ”

“ The spear no longer lay on the ice in front of him, but he hugged the skin of oil even tighter to his breast. Walton caught himself plotting a route that would take him behind and above the Eskimo. Devils of his imagination whispered it would be easy; the native was unarmed save for a knife—a futile thing against a block of ice dropped from above. “He’s run his race; the end is near,” the voice of self-preservation whispered. “Your life is before you. You can do much for the world, for you are civilized and educated. Take his clothing for warmth, and his food for life. He is but a burden.” ”

“ First the explosive sound of breaking ice, then the grinding of millions of ice cakes as the flood waters lifted the ice bodily and carried it toward the sea. Here it stranded on bars and piled cake on cake until a dam had been formed. There it broke through the banks and relieved for a moment of pressure, while the country was flooded.
They crossed the bend in the river and, instead of the smooth surface they had desired, a churning, ice dotted flood filled the course to the banks. They ran madly, taking turns at trail breaking; helping one another over the bad places. ”

“ Like the majority of civilized people, Walton did not know of the strange code more ancient than that of self-preservation.
Alone, Walton would have fought his way to the ice-armored shore. The Eskimo ignored it and crossed the floe. As aboard the schooner, he considered many things—then leaped to a small berg. Unconsciously Walton found himself considering the skin of seal-oil, and wondering if he could drink it. Of course the native possessed it, along with the ivory-headed spear and walrus-hide, but he was aged and weak, while Walton was young and strong. Age must sleep sometime. ”

“ He retired to his bunk, snuggled in the warmth of the blankets and listened to the roar of the storm and the break of the seas against the riveted walls. The pulsations of the engine lulled him to sleep. ”

“ He had seen raw men rise to great heights of courage, and die in silent bravery. The colorless Swede could have saved himself, throttled the Eskimo with his bare hands and taken the skin of oil, the walrus-hide and the spear, and with them food, warmth and protection. With the spear or without it, he could have beaten Walton to his knees, for he was a physical giant. Instead, he had given his life for another; and greater heights no man can attain. ”

“ They moved with desperation; falling, fighting, each for himself, but working toward the jam.
One man looked up and saw the posse, but a greater danger confronted him. Ice cakes were being sucked into a vortex that poured through an opening in the jam. He judged his situation carefully, leaped at the right moment and was on the jam proper. He did not look back at his companion, but climbed upwards, knowing that if he gained the top and the smooth ice beyond, the posse had no chance; knowing too, that if he failed, the river would demand its toll. ”

“ The river, with its burden of ice moved on toward the sea.
The youngest member of the posse stood where the jam had once held the flood waters of an empire in check.
“Do you suppose...?” he ventured.
“No,” the marshal answered, pointing to a spruce log three feet through at the butt. It was a sound timber from heart to bark but it was now a pulpy mass being destroyed by the ice. “The only thing that’ll ever be found, son, is the gold nuggets. And maybe the river will keep even them. The rest will be destroyed. Well, boys, let’s go back and report. ”

“ The Eskimo took his first sip from the seal-oil.
Self-preservation came to him in his dreams the third night, awakened him and remained. He was bitterly cold, needed additional clothing, while his whole being cried out for food. As before, self-preservation pointed the way. Walton muttered aloud: “I can’t. I’m civilized. Mine’s a different code. We care for our aged to the last. We don’t strangle and rob them.” Self-preservation jeered:
“Of what avail is your civilization now? Will the few dollars in your pocket buy food? Can your education kill a bear or seal and provide you with meat? ”

“ McNulty replied. He sniffed the air, believing his sense more reliable than a weather report. “A man needs room in bad weather. If we crashed on a reef——”
“Ship and cargo are insured against perils of the sea,” Pritt interrupted.
McNulty scowled fiercely. Pritt flushed. McNulty clipped his words. “Let me remind you, sir, I am a sailor first. There are certain codes a real sailor never forgets. There’s saving human lives; and there’s sailing your ship whether she’s a great liner with hundreds of passengers or a fishing schooner. Never forget that, Mr. Pritt.” ”

“ Again the Eskimo repeated: “Men die and you live.”
At the native’s feet lay a section of walrus-skin, sufficient to wrap one man warmly. In his arms he held a skin filled with seal-oil—rancid stuff that would sicken a white man, though an Eskimo could live on it for a time. An ivory-headed spear was slung across his shoulders, and somewhere beneath his parka he carried a knife. Against this was Walton’s pocketknife and his youth. Which would survive? Walton knew the answer: neither! But one would go like a savage, and the other would go like a civilized man. ”

“ Age should give forth wisdom, and leave curiosity to youth, who must ever learn by experience. Strange that I should be curious at my age, but I wondered which code would prevail, your code or the code of self-preservation. ”

“ Sometime late in April or early in May the ice went out. Men sent in their money and with it the day, hour, minute and even second they believed the ice would go. Luck governed the contest, for no man could tell the exact hour. The man coming nearest to the moment of the break-up won the pot, less the expense of holding the event.
Leach spilled the contents of his poke on the rough cabin table.
“Enough,” he muttered, “to buy twenty ice pool chances. This year I’m going to win! Each year I’ve come nearer; each year the pool has been larger, but this year I win!” ”

“ The blanket blew back, disclosing a white face coated with the grease of the engine room.
The surgeon looked up briefly. “He’ll live, I think, but that foot will have to come off. Yes, he’ll live. The sea breeds men.”
Two of the Crayton’s crew leaped back to the deck of their own vessel as seamen took their places at the stretcher. The grim Coast Guard skipper cleared his throat. “Cast off the Crayton’s lines for’d and aft,” he shouted. He looked sharply at McNulty. ”

“ Twenty chances will give you the edge on a lot of others, but the man with one chance often wins.”
He opened a safe, already crammed with gold dust and bills, added the contents of the poke, entered the name and times in a large book and filed the letter away.
Men were already working on the ice. In the center of the river a tripod had been erected. Just below it a wire had been strung across the river. On the town side the wire was connected to a clock as well as a siren. When the ice moved the tripod was carried against the wire. ”

“ From the Crayton’s crow’s-nest came the lookout’s monotonous voice, “Chinook two points off the starboard bow, sir!”
McNulty growled a retort and glanced at Pritt who owned the cargo and ship. “The Chinook is ready to take us as usual, Mr. Pritt.”
Pritt swore with feeling. Then he swore again as the radio operator appeared with a weather report predicting a bad blow within a few hours. McNulty put to sea. This was no coast to be caught in a blow. Pritt ventured a suggestion. “The cutter is riding light and we are loaded. We can stand rougher weather than the Chinook ”

“ Nobody will know whether we’ve wintered there or just arrived. Nobody knows we’re here! And we won’t show ourselves in the camp.”
Like most prospectors he spoke of any thriving town as a camp. Originally it had been a gold camp. From it a town had grown. ”

“ You’re a selfish young pup. You’ve failed as a son; you’re failing as a man. That means I’ve failed as a father. I’d rather have succeeded as a father than as a business man. I can’t learn you nothing; maybe if you rub shoulders with life you’ll learn something. I wanted to make your row easier to hoe than mine was. I made it easy, and that’s my mistake. I tried to get under your skin, but never could make it, so we’ve hated each other at times. That’s bad business for both father and son—to hate. ”

“ You called me filthy, greasy. I wondered! You were the best educated man I had ever known. You spoke like the books I read from; yet you were not a man. Hanson and Schwartz were men. Civilization baffled me. ”