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romance of adventure。 One day they waxed mutinous； and being vilely
cursed by Jacques Baptiste； turned； as worms sometimes will。 But the
half…breed thrashed the twain； and sent them； bruised and bleeding；
about their work。 It was the first time either had been manhandled。
Abandoning their river craft at the headwaters of the Little Peel；
they consumed the rest of the summer in the great portage over the
Mackenzie watershed to the West Rat。 This little stream fed the
Porcupine； which in turn joined the Yukon where that mighty highway of
the North countermarches on the Arctic Circle。 But they had lost in
the race with winter； and one day they tied their rafts to the thick
eddy…ice and hurried their goods ashore。 That night the river jammed
and broke several times； the following morning it had fallen asleep
for good。
'We can't be more'n four hundred miles from the Yukon；' concluded
Sloper； multiplying his thumb nails by the scale of the map。 The
council； in which the two Incapables had whined to excellent
disadvantage； was drawing to a close。
'Hudson Bay Post； long time ago。 No use um now。' Jacques
Baptiste's father had made the trip for the Fur Company in the old
days； incidentally marking the trail with a couple of frozen toes。
Sufferin' cracky！' cried another of the party。 'No whites？'
'Nary white；' Sloper sententiously affirmed； 'but it's only five
hundred more up the Yukon to Dawson。 Call it a rough thousand from
here。'
Weatherbee and Cuthfert groaned in chorus。
'How long'll that take； Baptiste？'
The half…breed figured for a moment。 'Workum like hell； no man
play out； ten… twenty… forty… fifty days。 Um babies come' （designating
the Incapables）； 'no can tell。 Mebbe when hell freeze over； mebbe
not then。'
The manufacture of snowshoes and moccasins ceased。 Somebody called
the name of an absent member； who came out of an ancient cabin at
the edge of the campfire and joined them。 The cabin was one of the
many mysteries which lurk in the vast recesses of the North。 Built
when and by whom； no man could tell。 Two graves in the open； piled
high with stones； perhaps contained the secret of those early
wanderers。 But whose hand had piled the stones？
The moment had come。 Jacques Baptiste paused in the fitting of a
harness and pinned the struggling dog in the snow。 The cook made
mute protest for delay； threw a handful of bacon into a noisy pot of
beans； then came to attention。 Sloper rose to his feet。 His body was a
ludicrous contrast to the healthy physiques of the Incapables。
Yellow and weak； fleeing from a South American fever…hole； he had
not broken his flight across the zones； and was still able to toil
with men。 His weight was probably ninety pounds； with the heavy
hunting knife thrown in； and his grizzled hair told of a prime which
had ceased to be。 The fresh young muscles of either Weatherbee or
Cuthfert were equal to ten times the endeavor of his； yet he could
walk them into the earth in a day's journey。 And all this day he had
whipped his stronger comrades into venturing a thousand miles of the
stiffest hardship man can conceive。 He was the incarnation of the
unrest of his race； and the old Teutonic stubbornness； dashed with the
quick grasp and action of the Yankee； held the flesh in the bondage of
the spirit。
'All those in favor of going on with the dogs as soon as the ice
sets； say ay。'
'Ay！' rang out eight voices… voices destined to string a trail of
oaths along many a hundred miles of pain。
'Contrary minded？'
'No！' For the first time the Incapables were united without some
compromise of personal interests。
'And what are you going to do about it？' Weatherbee added
belligerently。
'Majority rule！ Majority rule！' clamored the rest of the party。
'I know the expedition is liable to fall through if you don't come；'
Sloper replied sweetly； 'but I guess； if we try real hard； we can
manage to do without you。 What do you say； boys？'
The sentiment was cheered to the echo。
'But I say； you know；' Cuthfert ventured apprehensively； 'what's a
chap like me to do？'
'Ain't you coming with us。'
'No… o。'
'Then do as you damn well please。 We won't have nothing to say。'
'Kind o' calkilate yuh might settle it with that canoodlin'
pardner of yourn；' suggested a heavy…going Westerner from the Dakotas；
at the same time pointing out Weatherbee。 'He'll be shore to ask yuh
what yur a…goin' to do when it comes to cookin' an' gatherin' the
wood。'
'Then we'll consider it all arranged；' concluded Sloper。 'We'll pull
out tomorrow； if we camp within five miles… just to get everything
in running order and remember if we've forgotten anything。'
The sleds groaned by on their steel…shod runners； and the dogs
strained low in the harnesses in which they were born to die。
Jacques Baptiste paused by the side of Sloper to get a last glimpse of
the cabin。 The smoke curled up pathetically from the Yukon
stovepipe。 The two Incapables were watching them from the doorway。
Sloper laid his hand on the other's shoulder。
'Jacques Baptiste； did you ever hear of the Kilkenny cats？'
The half…breed shook his head。
'Well； my friend and good comrade； the Kilkenny cats fought till
neither hide； nor hair； nor yowl； was left。 You understand？… till
nothing was left。 Very good。 Now； these two men don't like work。
They'll be all alone in that cabin all winter… a mighty long； dark
winter。 Kilkenny cats… well？'
The Frenchman in Baptiste shrugged his shoulders； but the Indian
in him was silent。 Nevertheless； it was an eloquent shrug； pregnant
with prophecy。
Things prospered in the little cabin at first。 The rough badinage of
their comrades had made Weatherbee and Cuthfert conscious of the
mutual responsibility which had devolved upon them； besides； there was
not so much work after all for two healthy men。 And the removal of the
cruel whiphand； or in other words the bulldozing half…breed； had
brought with it a joyous reaction。 At first； each strove to outdo
the other； and they performed petty tasks with an unction which
would have opened the eyes of their comrades who were now wearing
out bodies and souls on the Long Trail。
All care was banished。 The forest； which shouldered in upon them
from three sides； was an inexhaustible woodyard。 A few yards from
their door slept the Porcupine； and a hole through its winter robe
formed a bubbling spring of water； crystal clear and painfully cold。
But they soon grew to find fault with even that。 The hole would
persist in freezing up； and thus gave them many a miserable hour of
ice…chopping。 The unknown builders of the cabin had extended the
sidelogs so as to support a cache at the rear。 In this was stored
the bulk of the party's provisions。 Food there was； without stint； for
three times the men who were fated to live upon it。 But the most of it
was the kind which built up brawn and sinew； but did not tickle the
palate。 True； there was sug