James B. Hendryx

“ Always the man appeared to be afraid. Always his eyes searched the shores. And always he scanned the faces of the Indians who approached in canoes as though he feared some man who would come to him over the water. But now, the Indians know that it was no man he feared, but the kultus tamahnawus. For one day, a small party of Indians who were hunting upon a hill saw the canoe of the white man driving rapidly down the lake. In the bow was the woman and the man was in the stern, and both paddled furiously so that the canoe shot forward with great speed. ”

“ Despite the utmost efforts of the men, ice-cakes occasionally rasped the sides of the rotten canoe, until at the end of an hour, although Connie redoubled his efforts, the water gained so fast that Sergeant McKeever was forced frequently to abandon his paddle and bail with his cap. To add to the peril of their position, a stiff breeze sprang up from the west, which caught them broadside and forced the floating ice to their side of the river. Waves broke over the gunwale of the loggy craft and the thickening ice-field seriously hampered its movement. ”

“ And, above Two Prong, strung along the whole length of its hundred miles of mountain windings, were the isolated cabins of trappers, and old-time prospectors who may be found in the hills about the head- waters of any placer creek, hammering and chipping their lives away in vain search for that will-o'-the-wisp of the prospector's dreams—the mother lode.
Possibly twenty white men, all told, and a band of half-starved Indians, who dwelt near the head waters, comprised the population of Cameron Creek—and these were they who enjoyed, and encouraged the disrepute into which the valley had fallen. ”

“ A volley of protest surged from the lips of Spotted Dog—but the star of the medicine man had set—White Eagle silenced him with a gesture, and, motioning to the young men, ordered them to bind him and throw him into his lodge.
"We weary of your howling," spoke the chief. "Not one life has it saved in the village. When the white man has finished with us, you shall go with him to the tepee of Long Raven, who is covered with the sores of the Red Death, and you shall touch him with your hands, and we shall see whose medicine is strong." ”

“ The mountain that formed the south wall of the valley was a solid mass of fire. The crackling of flames was real, now. It was everywhere. Great flaring sheets detached themselves, and hurtled through the air high above him. Pockets of gas exploded into red flame and tore great rifts in the writhing smoke cloud. The heat was intense. Gasping for air, Connie ran on, the sweat streaming from every pore. His blouse smoked, and he slapped at his shoulder. The flames had leaped the valley and already the north wall was ablaze. ”

“ There was a swift movement within, and the voice of High Light rang loud:
"Don't shoot a kid, Bill! Duck kid!" And at the same instant, Connie heard the futile snap of a hammer descending upon a firing-pin, and, with the bellow of a wild beast, Bill Cosgrieve slammed the rifle onto the floor and reached for another—and another—and another—all the time yelling, and all but frothing with an insane rage, from the noise of which, Connie caught fragments of sentences: "Double-crossed—Imp o' Satan—stole them shells—trapped like a rat!" ”

“ They lifted the children in and pushed off—and just in time! For as the boat swung out into the current, Connie pointed toward the mouth of the creek, and as the woman looked she shuddered. The full force of the fire was roaring down the valley, and from its mouth flames shot across the gravel bar to its very edge. The valley had become a veritable furnace. ”

“ This trail, following the windings of the stream, grew rougher and steeper as it approached the divide. The keen eyes of the boy told him that some one had recently passed that way—and passed hurriedly. And he smiled as he saw, cached in a niche of rock, a light pick and a battered gold-pan—a pick and pan that he had noticed the night before reposing behind the door of the prospector's" cabin.
"It's too bad," Connie muttered, "that the woman and kids have got to be mixed up in this. He's a fool to think he can get away with it. ”

“ The next morning the camp was early astir and after breakfast while Connie was rolling his blankets, Notorious Bishop filled his pipe. "D'you say, Constable, that the last boat leaves for Alaska on the fifteenth?"
"Yes," answered the boy. "That's when she's due to leave. She always gets away by the seventeenth."
The man removed his Stetson, and thoughtfully scratched his head as his gaze travelled up and down the river. "Seems like a man can't do no good here," he mused. "You say you got room in your canoe?"
"Sure," answered Connie, "that is, if you don't pack too big an outfit." ”

“ It had been a great year for the boy—those twelve months during which he had served side by side with the men of the Mounted—a year that had rounded out and crystallized the hand-hammered principles that were his heritage from Sam Morgan and that his association with Waseche Bill and the rough men of the gold country had taught him to apply to life in its daily round. ”

“ Between them and Dawson raged thirty miles of swirling, ice-choked flood. Their canoe was leaking like a sieve and each moment jagged ice-cakes threatened to rip away sides or bottom.
“They didn’t have no great start,” cheered McKeever, “an’ we’re travellin’ a heap faster’n what they are with that heavy scow. If we can only stay afloat we’ll catch ’em sure—an’ when we do, Squigg’ll wisht he never seen the Yukon!”
“Ye spoke a mouthful, Dan!” vociferated Rip Wade, as his eyes eagerly sought the river ahead. ”

“ A small clearing surrounded the cabin—so small that although Connie lay concealed by the underbrush, the window was only twenty-five feet distant. "If there are dogs, so much the worse for the dogs," he gritted, and crawling into the open, wriggled swiftly to the wall of the cabin. From within came the voices of men, but strain his ears as he would, he could not catch their words, and dared not risk showing his face at the window. ”

“ Upon the ground the old squaw laughed—a horrid, cackling laugh—and Connie shuddered.
His revolver was empty and a wounded Brushwood reloaded it for him. But he could see no more faces above the barricade. He heard loud yells of triumph. Tex Gordon, with a strip of blanket bound tightly about his head, rushed up.
"They've quit! They've quit, kid! Look at 'em run!" Connie peered through the loophole, and saw the half-naked forms running toward the timber across the clearing. ”

“ The trail of the Mooseheads led down stream in the direction of Lansing Creek. Having come overland along the ridges, the marauding band brought no canoes and their progress was slow, as the conformation of the valley necessitated frequent fording of the river to avoid impassable barriers. Again and again, as the canoe shot down stream, Connie and the scout saw signs of these crossings upon gravel bars and clay banks, and at each crossing the trail grew fresher. ”

“ One or two even affirmed that they had seen the great hand of the kultus tamahnawus rise from the water and drag the canoe into the depths. But this I did not believe. For I know that young men who are stricken with fear are more apt to see with the eyes of the heart than with the eyes of the head. And there are many strange and terrible things told which, in truth, never occurred. Many of the older men were like-minded. For they knew that to move from good hunting grounds at the coming on of winter is bad. ”

“ We're men o' short temper, we are! We're hard!"
Again Connie laughed. "So your partner told me this morning," he drawled, "when I walked up and took his gun away from him and made him roll around in the snow like a trick bear. Who's been kidding you? Trot along now and don't bother me. I'm hungry. I'm going to fry some nice sizzly bacon and cook up a pot of beans." Suddenly, one of the men raised his rifle and fired and the bullet sputtered dully against the thick logs. "Have all the fun you want," called Connie, "only don't break any windows, or I'll have to take your guns away." ”

“ The voice of Rickey was low and tense, and Connie whispered quickly:
"I'm alone. Can they talk English?"
"Some of 'em—a little. They trade on the Mackenzie."
Without answering, the boy faced the Indians who were closing about him, urged on by the frantic medicine man. He held up a small hand and, for an instant, the red men hesitated. The boyish voice cut clear, in tones of authority: "Stop! The first man that moves, dies!" ”

“ When Tex Gordon and Ick Far had bound up his wounded arm, the boy called a council. It was the unanimous opinion that the Mooseheads would not risk another charge. Their losses could only be estimated as Connie forbade any one to venture beyond the barricade. An Indian, like a rattlesnake, is never dead till he is good and dead, and many a man has been treacherously murdered while endeavouring to aid a wounded enemy. ”

“ It was almost dark when Connie Morgan swung his outfit in toward the little cabin on Coal Creek. As the dogs stopped at the sharp word of command the door flew open and a man appeared on the threshold. The man was Brek Wiley and Connie knew that his keen eyes had taken in at a glance every detail of the outfit. ”

“ The white man says the Yellow Knives shall live. Is death better than life?"
Slowly he rolled back the sleeve of his heavy Hudson's Bay Company shirt. "We must all die—Spotted Dog has spoken. If we be wounded with the little medicine arrows, we shall live—the small white man has spoken. If we must die, one small wound upon the arm is nothing. If, by one small wound, and one small sickness, we shall live—what is one small wound? Life is better than death, and we can do no worse than die—and Spotted Dog says we shall die anyway."
He extended his arm toward Connie. ”

“ Being ignorant of the positions of the men, he did not dare punch the moss inward. As the chinking thinned, the voices became more distinct, and at length the boy placed his eye to a tiny hole through which filtered a single ray of candlelight. There were two men in the room—one he could not see, the other was a shaggy man who sat beside the stove and smoked a pipe. The man out of line was speaking and Connie applied his ear to the crevice. ”

“ Hardly had he finished his breakfast next morning, when a call from without brought Connie to the loophole for a peep at the four dejected-looking figures that stood in a row before the cabin.
"Ahoy!" called one of the men. "We want somethin' to eat. An' we don't want no fish neither! We hain't no dogs!"
"It ain't what a man wants, it's what he gets that makes him fat," grinned the boy. "You'll eat snow, or fish. And you won't get fish unless you work for it. There's the nose of an old sled sticking out of the snow at the corner of the cabin. ”

“ Suddenly he stood erect. "Who says I'm afraid of ghosts?" he cried. "Or kultus tamahnawuses, or whatever they call 'em!" And with outthrust jaw, walked deliberately into the scrub and beyond the dancing shadows, nor did he return to the fire until he had made a complete circuit of the camp. A few moments later he crawled between his blankets and as he drew them over his head an owl hooted in a near-by tree and upon a far sand-hill a lone wolf howled dismally. ”

“ And upon the ridge the three gazed in silence into each other's faces.
When the Indians at Tilton Lake Post heard the story of the accident and saw that the woman who returned with Connie Morgan and Ick Far was a real woman of flesh and blood, they returned once more to their hunting-ground on Red Tail Lake.
And while the men of the Yukon wonder, Connie Morgan and Ick Far know, that the trail of the "Demon's Heart" is ended. For the great nugget lies to this day griplocked in the hand of a dead man on the floor of a black water lake in the heart of the land of gold. ”

“ For he knew that somewhere among those peaks and passes lay twelve picked men—stern-faced—experienced. Men who were the very flower of the Mounted, and who were there for the express purpose of preventing one certain man from crossing that divide. And despite their vigilance—despite the best efforts of that grim parol, the man had crossed the divide! Notorious Bishop was upon the McQuesten and it was up to him. Special Constable Connie Morgan, to take into Dawson the man who had time and again flaunted his escapes in the face of the Mounted! ”

“ Suddenly, with a wild yell, a man plunged overboard, and as the dogs, with one accord, surged toward the remaining man, he, too, stood not upon the order of his going, but leaped far out into the icy waters to escape the death of the flashing fangs. A few moments later, two dripping black objects crawled painfully onto a huge cake of drifting ice which swept on past the Dawson landing. ”