 Chapter 14 of On the Yukon Trail by Roy J. Snell This lemur box recording is in the public domain. Chapter 14. A strange sight. Before leaving his shelter, curly hack from the quarter of caribou meat, a piece the size of a roast. This he managed to tie to his back. He then faced up the hill and, having reached the top, scrambled and slid to the valley beyond. A wild battle with the storm followed. Panting, freezing, aching in every muscle, yet doggedly determined, he fought his way from the hilltop to hilltop. Lot to be getting near the place, he told himself as he found himself in a valley broader than any other he had crossed. Nothing looks familiar, can't see far, blame snow keeps blowing so. Suddenly he stopped short. A black hulk loomed just before him. His heart skipped a beat. What was it? A cabin? Some Indian's hut? A miner's shack? What a boon in a wild night such as this. He was not left long in doubt. Pressing eagerly forward for twenty yards, he at last paused to exclaim, Willows! Just Willows with dead leaves on. But Willows were something. They meant a shelter from the blasts of wind, which had been slowly beating the life out of him. They meant to a possible fire. I'll just get into them and see what can be done. He mumbled as he once more beat his way forward. So great was the relief from getting away from the knife-edged wind that he felt that there must be somewhere among the Willows a hidden fire. Might make one at that, he told himself. Struggling through the dense growth, he came at last to an open spot some five yards in diameter, which, he decided, was probably a frozen pool. About this the Willows grew to a height of eight feet. The protection from the gale was complete. I don't camp here till it blows over, he thought as he began cutting down some slender Willows with his sheath knife. Easy spread on the smooth surface of the bare spot. Above them he built a tent-shaped shelter with only one end open. This completed, he began making a pile of dry twigs and leaves. Over this at last he piled larger green branches. Finally, he dug down in the soft snow to where deep beds of mosses lay. These were soft and dry. He did tender. He murmured as he unwrapped a package of matches and struck one of them. Soon he had a crackling fire. That's better, he chuckled. Much better. Might even do a little cooking. Chipping off strips of frozen meat, he sharpened a twig and strung them upon it. These he held before the fire until they were done to a delicious brown. He exalted. Couldn't be better. I only wish the other boys had some. Wondered just where they are now. Had he but known it, they were camped on the other end of this willow clump, not a quarter of a mile away. Five minutes walk down the frozen stream would have brought him to them. They had allowed their fire to die down and had crept into their sleeping bags. No smoke came from them to him, and the smoke from his fire was blowing directly away from them, so they passed the night in ignorance of their close proximity to each other. When morning came, they took courses which carried them miles apart. As for Curly, when morning broke and he found the storm had passed, he at once made his way to the top of the hill to Reconoiter. Their strange things awaited him. As he reached the crest of the hill, he beheld, apparently on the ridge just beyond, a sight which caused his pulse to quicken. He saw two dog teams moving along at a steady walk. There were seven dogs in the first team and eight in the second. They were hitched white man fashion, two and two abreast. The sleds of the long basket type were well loaded. Atop the first rode a powerfully built man dressed in an Eskimo parka. On the second sled, with back to Curly, rode another person. Dressed as this one was in an Eskimo costume, one might have said he was looking at a small Eskimo man, a woman, or a girl. The outlaw and the whisperer, he murmured, involuntarily as feet moved forward. To approach them alone would seem madness, yet so great was his desire to unravel their secret that beyond question he would have risked it. But a strange thing happened at that moment. The sled party had come to the end of the ridge. They should naturally have gone gliding down the slope, but to Curly's vast astonishment, they moved straight on into thin air. What? His mouth flew open in astonishment. The next instant he laughed. A mirage! And so it was. As he focused his eyes closely upon the scene, he could detect the faint outline of the long ridge upon which the party was really traveling. Might be 40 miles away, he told himself. And I was going to stop them. Well, anyway, he mused. It's a glimpse that may aid us in the future. He set himself to studying every detail of the equipment, dogs, harnesses, sleds, clothing, everything. He even sat down on the snow and traced on an old envelope with the stub of a pencil, the picture as he saw it. Then suddenly the sleds dropped from view. Light changed, or they came to the edge of the ridge, he told himself. Left to his own thoughts, he began to doubt that this was the outline as companion. There were natives in this region. These people had been dressed as natives. Truly the dogs were hitched white man fashion, and the sleds were white man type. But the Eskimo had learned many things from the whites. They took pleasure in imitating this superior race of people. No, he said to himself. It might not have been them. I don't really know that the whisperer exists at all. I don't. He paused suddenly to stare away to the left of him, where was another stream and a second long clump of willows. The wind had dropped to a whisper. The air was keen and clear. From the midst of this clump of willows, straight up a hundred feet, there rose a thin pencil-like column of white vapor, which appeared to be smoke. Now who, he asked himself, can be camping down there. His heart beat fast. Was it Jennings and Joe? He would see. Hurriedly, yet with utmost caution, he made his way down the hill toward the clump of willows, from which the thin column continued to rise. End of Chapter 14 Recording by Tom Penn Chapter 15 of On the Yukon Trail by Roy J. Snell This Libra Vox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 15 Curly Vanishes As soon as morning broke, Joe and Jennings were out of the tent in a way to make a search for their lost comrade. With Joe's team of four dogs and an empty sled, they struck away up the hill in the direction of their old camp. They found the tattered handkerchief still fluttering in the breeze and Joe's note safe beside it. Not been here, said Joe. Better drive out in the direction he took when he went after that caribou. Taking his team to the right of the old camp site, he led them backward and forward until a ginger, the leader, suddenly pricked up his ears and whined. He's got the scent, said Joe. He's on the trail. He's a hound. Hounds are great for that. All we gotta do is to follow. Ginger will find him. Away they raced after the dogs. Ginger did not hesitate for a moment until he led them straight to the pile of snow on which Curly had cached his caribou meat. The party could not carry away. Shows he got his game, said Joe, looking with a feeling of pure joy at the pile of fresh meat. As for the dogs, they stood on their haunches and howled with delight. Hacking off some small pieces, ginnings threw one to each dog. These they swallowed at a gulp. He next piled the meat on the sled and lashed it there securely. Mud is well taken along, he explained. Once more, Joe took the dogs in a circle that they might pick up the trail. They found it at once and went racing away. But at the crest of the second hill, they paused and refused to go further. Urged them as he might, lead them back and forth as he did, Joe could not get them to pick up the trail and go on. The truth was, the trail did not go on. They had come to the spot where, after following the second caribou, Curly had turned back. All tracks were snow-blown, but the scent was still there. Lost the trail, said ginnings after a half hour of fruitless endeavor. Yes, so, said Joe, wrinkling his brow. Yes, the only thing we can do is to look around over the hills. They did look around over the hills. They searched until darkness began to fall, but discovered no trace of their missing comrade. Might as well go back to camp, suggested ginnings. He may have found his way back. He sure to turn up. There was a tone in his voice which suggested that Curly might not turn up. Hungry and weary, they were making their way back to camp when, on reaching the end of the willow clump farthest from camp, old Ginger suddenly pricked up his ears and, springing into the bushes, attempted to drag his teammates after him. Hey there, you, Ginger, shouted Joe. What are you doing there? Got a rabbit or something? Might be a trail, said ginnings excitedly. Cut him out of the team. Hang on to his trace. Follow him and see where he takes you. To Joe's great astonishment, the dog let him straight to a willow bush camp and the ashes of a burned-out fire. The camp, he exclaimed. Then he shouted, Oh, ginnings, tie up the other dogs and come in here. Do you think it could have been Curly that made this camp? He asked after the miner had looked it over. Might have. There is nothing to prove he did or didn't. He knows too hard to leave footprints and there's no other sign. Seems queer, doesn't it? Not a hundred rods from our camp. Question is, said ginnings. Whoever he may be, where is he gone? If he's a stranger, he may have looted our tent by now. That's right, said Joe, greatly disturbed. Let's get out on the edge of the bushes and see if Ginger doesn't pick up his trail. The old leader did pick up a trail at once. The trail led away from their camp. They were tired and hungry, but for all that, so eager were they to find some trace of Curly and to solve this new mystery that they cached the meat in the tops of some stout willows and supperless turned their faces to the trail. It was growing dark, but since there was nothing to be done save to follow the dog leader, they marched on over hill and valley in silence. At last they found they were approaching a second clump of willows. Involuntarily, Joe reached for his rifle. May be camp there, he whispered. May be all right, may not. In a wilderness like this, you never can tell. They approached the clump of bushes in silence. It was a small clump, soon searched. It was empty. They were about to leave it in disgust when Joe suddenly exclaimed, Look here at this! He pointed at some bushes from which the leaves had been completely stripped. Reindeer or caribou, whispered the miner as if afraid of being overheard. Snapping on his flashlight, Joe examined the bushes in the ground. Believe you're right. There are his tracks. He's trampled the ground in a circle and eaten all the leaves in a circle, too. How do you account for that? Reindeer tied to the bushes. Reindeer of the man we have been following, said Joe thoughtfully. The conclusion was so obvious that neither of them troubled to voice it. Curly Carson had no reindeer. Therefore, it was evident that it had not been he whom they had been following on this new scent. Some man, who it was they could not even guess, had come to their willow clump and had camped there all night. Before coming, he had tied his reindeer to this other clump and had left him there. In the morning, he had returned to the reindeer and, having untied him, had driven away. At least, this was the way Joe reasoned it out, in his own mind. It was probable that Jenin's conclusion was not far from the same. It is probable, Joe went on to assure himself, that this fellow is some Eskimo herder who, having left his reindeer to search for other reindeer or for a rabbit and ptarmigan, has been caught in the storm and been obliged to camp in our willow clump for the night. All this fine reasoning was, as reasoning very often is, entirely wrong. But since neither Joe nor Jenin's knew it to be wrong, they turned their reluctant dogs toward camp and really made their way back. Joe was thoroughly downhearted. Currently, he felt sure, had been frozen to death. There was nothing left but to go on without him. But without his genius to aid them, it seemed probable that the expedition would end in utter failure. The message he had caught the night before had been that of the Whisperer, the one which had so fortunately waken Curly from what might have been a fatal sleep. And the Whisperer was less than 40 miles away, Joe now told himself. If Curly had got back to camp, we might by now have had our men in handcuffs. As it is, he has made another day's travel and their race is still young. But, he thought, with a feeling of determination, with Curly, we catch him yet. End of Chapter 15, Recording by Tom Penn Chapter 16 of On the Yukon Trail by Roy J. Snell This Leber Rocks recording is in the public domain. Chapter 16, A Strange Steed As you have doubtless guessed, the camp discovered by Joe and Jennings was that made by Curly. They had been on his trail and not on the trail of some stranger. But had they attempted to follow his trail from the last clump of willows where the reindeer had been tied, they would have become more and more bewildered. And had they followed the trail all night, they would have caught no glimpse of their lost companion. That you may understand why all this is true, I must tell you what happened to Curly after he began to approach the clump of willows, from which rose the thin column of white vapor. Glad I've got my rifle, he told himself as he moved in close to the willows. You can never tell what you're coming up against. Walking on tiptoes, he approached the end of the willow clump, furthest from the column of white vapor. Just slip in through here and have the first look, he whispered. Pushing aside the bushes, he disappeared behind the dead leaves. There was not a breath of wind. This made it hard. It was impossible to avoid rustling the leaves. Since there was no wind to stir up other leaves, he felt sure that his presence must be detected. His breath came quick as he paused to listen. No sound came to him. He moved on a few paces, then suddenly he paused. Had he caught a sound? Yes, there it was. A rustling of the leaves. A branch is switching together. What's that for? He whispered, crouching low. Maybe a signal. For some time he did not move. When at length he ventured to go forward, it was on hands and knees. Down low there were no leaves. Traveling on this manner, he made no sound. Only once his foot touched his rifle, causing a rattling sound. Stopping dead still, he paused with wildly beating heart to listen. What a fool I am! He told himself at last. Creeping up on some simple innocent people, probably. But when a fellow is a hunter, he gets the habit of wanting to have the first look. A moment later he did get the first look. And at that instant he leaped to his feet and let out a wild shout of laughter. The only creature to be seen in the bushes was a milk white reindeer. This deer was hitched to a short flat sled, such as reindeer herders use. The sled was overturned and had tangled with the willows. Because of this and because of the three inch wide rawhide strap which held him in the sled, the reindeer was unable to move from the spot. The explanation of the column of vapor was not far to seek. It was merely the deer's breath rising straight up from the willows. Since it was intensely cold, the moisture from his breath froze at once and since there was not a breath of air stirring, it could be seen mounting an air for many feet. Wouldn't do to get too close to an enemy on such a day, he told himself. He'd spot you in an instant. This knowledge was destined to prove of great value to him in the days that were to come. Well now, he said, addressing the deer, I've got you. Question is, what am I going to do with you? You're evidently a bad actor, must have run away from your master. And I never drove a reindeer in my life. He paused and thought. The reindeer would be of service to him if he could, but learned to drive him. He needed no food save that which the tundra supplied, the reindeer moss under the snow, to ride on the broad bottom sled in his search for his companions would be far preferable to walking. Besides, it meant more speed. Huh, he grunted. Try anything once. So, you old lost ship of the Arctic Desert, let's turn you over and see what you've got on you. Grasping the sled, he disentangled it enough to allow him to turn it over. The sled carried a light load, all of which was covered with a piece of canvas, securely bound on by a raw-hide rope. That the reindeer had traveled some distance was testified to by the fact that many holes had been torn in the canvas as the sled traveled upside down. Let's see what treasure is hidden here, he said. His fingers trembled from curiosity as he untied the rope. To his joy he found a very good sleeping bag of deerskin, a pair of deerskin mittens, three large frozen fish, and a camp kit consisting of knives, spoons, cups, a tin plate, matches, reindeer sinew for thread, and various other odds and ends beneath the canvas. For all these, Curly said, old reindeer, I thank you. They'll come in handy when we take the trail. He proceeded to replace all the articles into a rebind the sled. Hardly had this been accomplished, then the reindeer, who had stood all this time with head down like a tired workhorse, suddenly sprang into action. With a wild snort he cleared with one leap a low willow bush and, dragging the sled after him, sprang away at a terrific speed. Curly had barely time to leap, stomach down upon the sled in a grasped raw-hide rope with both hands. He was determined not to be left behind. Scarcely realizing that his most priceless possession, his rifle, was not on the sled, he still clung there while he was whirled along at a terrific gait. Rocking like a rowboat in a storm, the sled took the ridges of snow as the boat would the waves. Expecting at every moment to see the sled go over and to be forced to lose his hold, Curly lay prepared for any emergency. But the short, broad, low-runnered sled, built for just such an emergency as this, did not turn turtle. So, across one ridge and down it they raced along the side of a low receding slope. Then across a valley they sped. Skirting a willow clump, they crossed a narrow stream to climb a hill again. Lotta let him rip and go back after my rifle. The boy told himself, but, tired as he was, hungry and sleepy too, he was still game. This beast had challenged his power of wits and endurance. He would stick to the end. Wonder how in time you'd go about it to stop him. He tried shouting, but this only served to frighten the deer into greater speed. So again he was silent. They shot down a hill. There was danger that the sled would overtake the deer and that they would be tumbled into a heap. To prevent this he began using his foot as a break. It worked. That gave him an idea. Have to tire him out, he told himself. Keep the break on all the time. That'll help. Digging his heel in as hard as he could, he created a great deal of friction which in time began to tell upon the reindeer. He traveled with his mouth open and his breath began to come in horse pants. I'll get you, curly triumphed. Sorry to do it, old boy, but it seems to be the only way we can come to terms. Slowly and yet more slowly they traveled. The reindeer had dropped almost to a walk when, with a sudden spurt, it did a peculiar thing. They were near a clump of willows, charging straight at these like an ostrich hiding his head in the sand. He buried himself in the rustling leaves. Well, said Curly, rising stiffly, that's that. And now, he said, rubbing his eyes sleepily, I think I'll just tie you up here and leave you to browse on these tender willow leaves while I have a bit of frozen fish. After that I'll drag the sleeping bag into the brush for forty winks. A half hour later two thin columns of vapor rose from the willows, one from the reindeer and one from Curly. Wonder if anyone will see them, Curly puzzled before he fell asleep. Well, if they do, they do. I can't help it and I'm too dead for sleep to care. Curly's runaway reindeer had carried him far. Hardly had he fallen asleep when two dog teams appeared over the crest of the ridge. This ridge, a mile away, looked down upon the willows from which the breath of Curly and the reindeer arose. The foremost of the two powerful dog teams was driven by a strongly built man who ran beside the sled. Upon the other sled rode a second individual. Oh, the weary dogs halted. Someone camp down there. The man spoke more to himself than to his companion. Might mean some food. He looked to the loading of his rifle. Might mean trouble. So he stood there, apparently undecided, while the columns of vapor continued to rise from the willows. Had Curly Carson possessed a guardian spirit, he would beyond doubt have whispered in his ear. Curly! Curly Carson! Awake! You are in danger! But since he had none, he slept peacefully on. End of Chapter 16. Recording by Tom Penn. Chapter 17 of On the Yukon Trail by Roy J. Snell. This Liber Rocks recording is in the public domain. Chapter 17. A Naughty Problem. Joe Marion and Jennings were facing a problem. They had returned to their camp after following what they thought was the trail of some other person than Curly. You will remember that they had discovered the marks of a reindeer which apparently had been tied in the brush. This reindeer, they had concluded, belonged to some herder who had camped in the other clump of willows for the night. It was in fact the very reindeer which Curly had found tangled in the brush. But this they did not know. And since they did not know it, they suppose they had lost all trace of their companion and were more than half convinced that he had been frozen to death in the blizzard. Now, under the circumstances, what were they to do? They had come a long and dangerous way to capture a man, the air outlaw. To get his man had been Curly's constant thought. He was doubtless getting farther and farther from them as the hours passed. They now had meat to last them three or four days. What should they do? Press on as rapidly as they could, leaving Curly to find their trail and follow if he were still alive? Or should they continue the search for him, circling the hills in the tundra with the dogs in the hope of again picking up his trail? Might be still alive but with frozen feet unable to travel, suggested Joe. Yes, that has happened often in the Arctic, said Jennings. But he has his belt radio phone set, said Joe thoughtfully. The air is quiet now. His balloon aerial would work beautifully. Why don't suddenly he started? In his eager search for his companion, he had neglected the radio phone. Now he turned his attention to it, tuning it to 200, their agreed wavelength. He listened in while Jennings fried caribou steak. That's a rare treat, said Jennings as he set his teeth in a juicy morsel. It's surprising how you can keep all liking for caribou and reindeer meat. In 98 we came in four or five thousand strong over the trail from Valdez. We each had sixteen hundred pounds of kit and grub, which cost us about four hundred dollars. With that food and the fish and game we got, we lived up here a year and a half. Think of it, a year and a half on a sled load of grub. Did you find much gold? Asked Joe. Many of us did. Most of us went back to the States poorer than when we came. That is, we did as far as money goes, but in other ways we had gained much. We had learned how to live without the white man's luxuries. We had learned how to face danger, hardship, and even death with a smile. We had lived hundreds of miles from doctors, drugs, and nurses. And yet most of us came out of it, brown, sturdy, hard muscle, keen a nerve, and of mind, ready for anything that life might hand us. That's the pay men get for daring a wilderness. Shhh, Joe held up a warning finger. He was getting something out of the air. He knew at once that it was not curly speaking, yet he felt sure it was important. It came from the north. Steamship Tarantino. Munson, the explorer, speaking. Joe thrilled at the sound of that name. Tarantino crushed by ice. The voice went on, sinking by the bow. Position about 1,000 miles do north of Flaxman Island. All supplies unloaded on floating icepans shall attempt pole by plane. Later returned by plane to Flaxman. Must have transportation for 30 men from Flaxman. Authorize any necessary expense. The message ended. Joe sat wrapped in deep thought. I don't see how he hopes to get transportation for 30 men from Flaxman Island. That's spot. Why, that's off the map. All but off the earth. Nobody there. No one near. We can help him some with our dogs if we happen to be there when he arrives, but our teams are but a sample of what he needs. ought to have left dogs and a native or two with his supplies at Flaxman, said Jennings. Yes, but he didn't. No, that's the real point. Say, exclaimed Joe suddenly, there must be a reindeer herd somewhere near here. Otherwise that fellow with the sled deer wouldn't be wandering around so close. Probably, but you can't be sure of it. Those little brown folks think a lot of their reindeer. I've known them to trail a deer that had run away in a company with wild caribou for more than 500 miles. Anyway, it's worth looking into. If there is a good size herd close to us, the Eskimo who owns it will have enough sled deers to bring Munson's whole party out to civilization. I think we ought to look into that at once. I agree with you, but for one consideration, said Joe thoughtfully, What's that? said Jennings sharply. The outlaw. What's he got to do with it? He's going north, isn't he? Yes. Port Flaxman Island? Probably. But what of that? What little food he and his companion, if he has one, will eat won't amount to anything. No, it won't, not if he stops at that. But as Curly and I have said to you before, everything goes to indicate that he is sore at Munson, that he'd like to do him an injury. What greater injury could he do him than to load down his sled with supplies from Flaxman Island, then touch a match to the rest? Why, man, the whole 30 of them would starve, just as Sir John Franklin's 150 men did in that same region two or three generations ago. Yes, if the outlaw is that kind of a bird. Who knows about that? The only way to find out is to go after him. I think it's mighty important that we get him and get him quick. Then we'll have to leave Curly to make the best of things. To shift for himself. Well, said Joe, speaking very slowly. I'm not sure what we should do. Let's leave that discussion till morning. Agreed, said Jennings as he began unlacing his felt shoes, preparatory to creeping into his sleeping bag. End of Chapter 17. Recording by Tom Penn. Chapter 18 of On the Yukon Trail by Roy J. Snell. This Liber Vox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 18. A mysterious attack. After a moment of indecision, the man driving the team of powerful dogs, who, as you remember, was standing looking down at the two columns of vapor, which marked the spot where Curly Carson slept, spoke to his dog team. He had been debating the advisability of descending the hill and entering that clump of willows. What he now said to his dogs was, The dogs leap forward and, since he had given them no order as to direction, they raced away straight along the ridge and not down to the willows. A hundred yards further on, he dug his heels into the snow as he clung to the handle of the sled and shouted, Again he appeared to debate the question. This time he was more prompt in his decision. Again the team followed the ridge while, away in the willow clump, all unarmed and defenseless, Curly Carson slept and his newly acquired reindeer munched on at the dead willow leaves. The deer was sleek and fat. He would have made prime feed for the traveler's dogs as well as for him and his companion. And as for Curly, well, perhaps the man might have rejoiced at meeting him alone and unarmed. Of that we shall learn more later. Curly slept longer than he had intended doing. His weary brain and tired body yearned for rest and once this was offered to them they partook of it in a prodigal manner. At last he awoke to poke his head out of the sleeping bag and to stare up at the stars. Where am I? he asked himself. Oh yes, now I remember in a comp of willows. I have a mysterious reindeer and no rifle. I have some frozen fish. This comp of willows. Where is it? Where is our camp? Joe Marion? Jennings? Where are they? Who can tell? He sat up and scratched his head. Well, I'm here. That much is good. He caught the sound of the reindeer stamping the ground. He did learn to drive the reindeer and that quite speedily. He found that a long rope of rawhide was fastened to the deer's halter. This was long enough to run back to the sled. It was, he concluded, used as a jerk line such as was once employed by drivers of oxen. The harness he found to be a very simple construction. Two wooden affairs fitting closely to the shoulders and tied together at top and bottom without rawhide thongs served as both collar and harness. From the bottom of these ran a broad strap which connected directly with the sled. This strap was held up from the ground by a second broad strap which encircled the animal's body directly behind its forelegs. Now, he told the reindeer, we're going to try it over again. We got a bad start last time. Fact is you were away before the starters whistle blew. You see, he said, straightening out the jerk strap. I'm going to hold on to this. If you get excited and speed up a little too much I'll pull your head over on one side and make you go in a circle. That'll slow you up. Then I'll pile off the sled and dig in my heels. That should stand you on your head. You know way much not over three or four hundred. When I put you on your head a few times I shouldn't be surprised if you turn into a very good obedient little reindeer. It took but three tryouts to convince the reindeer that curly was not an ill meaning sort of fellow but that he was one who meant to have his own way. Then like all other creatures who have been trained he settled down to business and carried his newly acquired master to go. That is, he did up to a certain moment. After that moment things changed and curly was carried straight into trouble. When he left the clump of willows curly drove his reindeer up the slope to the crest of the ridge. He did this that he might get a better view of the surrounding country to determine if possible the direction in which their former camp lay. Imagine his surprise on coming to a patch of soft freshly blown snow at the crest of the ridge to find the tracks of a dog in sleds. Fresh tracks he whispered breathlessly not ten hours old he went over to study these tracks for a moment he examined each imprint of a dog's foot in the snow each trace of sled runner and every footprint of the driver then with a sudden bound he stood up again. It is he exclaimed. It is the outlaw passed while I slept while I must a fellow be everlastingly sleeping his life away but then he thought after a moment's deliberation perhaps it was just as well what could I have done without help and without weapons of any kind seating himself on his sled while his reindeer pawed deep into the snow in his search for reindeer moss he thought things through Joe Marion and Jennings he told himself we'll sooner or later give up on their search for me and we'll get back on the outlaw's trail they realize the importance of capturing him they are brave fellows they will not hesitate to undertake it without me the surest way to get in with them again is to stay on this trail only question is shall I turn back to meet them shall I camp right here or shall I follow up the outlaw at once after some deliberation he concluded that going back over the trail would be risky he might miss his companions they might get back on the outlaw's trail after he had passed the spot on which they entered the trail remaining inactive did not suit him not that kind of a boy I'll follow the outlaw he told himself I believe I've got a speedier outfit than he has white men seldom drive reindeer so the outlaw won't suspect me even though he sees me at a distance I can shadow him and even unarmed as I am may be able to prevent a disaster having come to this conclusion he led the reindeer to the crest of the ridge faced him north, leaped upon the sled slapped him on the hip with the jerk rain and was away for ten miles to the crack crack of the reindeer's hoofs he shot away over the snow as the keen air cut his cheek as the low flat sled bobbed and bumped beneath him curly thought he had never known another such mode of travel surely a reindeer when well broken was the ideal steed of the Arctic and the beauty of it is he told himself you don't have to go hunting out feed for him when the day is done he finds it for himself under the snow you hey there he exclaimed suddenly what are you doing the reindeer had suddenly paused in his flight to sniff the air the next instant he had gone plunging down the snow-covered ridge this was no time to think of stopping or turning him should either be accomplished curly and his sled would have gone spinning in a circle at last to go rolling over and over in the snow in which event curly would beyond doubt find himself at the foot of the ridge very much bruised in minus both sled and reindeer the most he could do was to hold back the sled with his foot to prevent it overtaking his mad steed and to allow the deer to continue in his wild race the ridge here was long and steep a half mile away it ended in a forest of scrub spruce trees which beyond doubt lined the bank of a stream but what was this he saw as he near the dwarf forest a herd of reindeer he murmured in astonishment 500 or a thousand of them my buddy, my friend here smelled them and yearned for company so he what was that from the edge of the forest there leaped a tongue of fire a rifle cracked a bullet sang over his head then another and another say do you think I'm a reindeer rustler he groaned want to kill me instantly he dropped from the sled not much use he told himself but it will give a fellow time to think maybe those fellows are rustlers themselves and they think I'm an officer or something his blood ran cold at the thought end of chapter 18 recording by Tom Penn chapter 19 of On the Yukon Trail by Roy J. Snell this little box recording is in the public domain chapter 19 ships that pass in the night much as they regretted it Joe Marion and Jennings after a night's sleep were forced to admit that it seemed their duty to push on over the trail left by the outlaw it wouldn't be so bad if we hadn't caught Munson's message said Joe thoughtfully in a case like this one is obliged to consider the highest good to the greatest number it might easily happen that a delay on our part at this moment would mean the loss of Munson's entire party it would almost surely mean that if they arrived at Flaxman Island to find their supply depot in ashes and as for Curly added Jennings if he came out of that blizzard alive with his rifle in hand he'll take care of himself trust him for that yes and with that high order of caribou meat so it was decided that they should press on they had followed the trail of the outlaw for ten miles or more when they came upon footprints in the snow beside the trail which seemed to indicate the outlaw had paused in his travel wonder what he stopped there for said Jennings examining the tracks carefully from the position of his feet I would say he had been looking down the hill oh come on said Joe the big point is he went straight on and we're following a hundred yards further on they came to a place where a reindeer and sled joined the trail that's queer said Jennings pausing again funny that fella would follow the outlaw looks exactly like the track made by that other fella when he pulled out of that clump of willows after he left his deer tied there all night and it camped in our thicket wonder if it could have been the same man he would have wondered still more if he'd known that his companion Curly was on that sled and that each mile he traveled brought him closer to the Curly here young radio phone expert his wonder did draw a pace when mile after mile the reindeer driver followed the trail of the outlaw wonder what he's after he mumbled over and over when presently he saw the reindeer track suddenly swing to the right and down the ridge and by straining his eyes he made out a large herd of reindeer feeding at the edge of the scrub forest he was truly disappointed but it meant something he grumbled he was following along that way but I guess he was just following the ridge for a good going until he got to his reindeer herd we might go down and buy some reindeer meat I think I see a cabin at the edge of the forest they might have other things to eat coffee, hortic and the like natives often do can you afford to use up the time said Joe we're doing well enough on caribou meat got quite a supply of it yet so we better mush along alright ginger let's go he shouted his leader leaped to his feet and they were away it would be interesting to speculate on just what would have happened and they decided to descend the hill to trade with the natives they might have been ambushed and slain for Curly Carson was at that moment in the cabin at the edge of the forest and he was far from free to go his own way so like ships in the night they passed Curly Carson and his pals only once Jennings paused to look back then as he shaded his eyes he said to Joe it seems like I see something hovering up there above the treetops white owl or raven said Joe I don't think it is can't quite make out what it is though then they pressed on over the trail leapt by the sledge of the outlaw the fluttering above the edge of the forest was caused by neither white owl nor raven but by three balloons bobbing about in the air a red one a white one and a blue one these balloons considerably larger than toy balloons were kept from fluttering away by silk hordes reaching to the cabin below before we can explain their presence here we must first tell what had happened to Curly Carson since we left him huddled behind the snowbank with bullets singing over him without knowing why he had been attacked Curly realized that he was in grave danger these rough men whoever they might be were apparently bent on his destruction for the moment he was safe the snowbank was thick and solid a bullet he knew made little progress in snow but they might outflank him and come into the right or left of him they doubtless believed him to be in possession of a rifle or at least an automatic they would plan their attack with extreme caution but in time they would get him twisting about under cover he studied the lie of the snow to right and left of him it was not reassuring true there were other snow ridges but to reach these he must expose himself this would not do to cut himself a trench along the hillside would take too long besides he would be detected in the attempt he thought of his belt radio phone equipment might get up a balloon aerial he told himself and send an SOS but that would take time too much time besides who'd come to my rescue due to a mess I'd say the length determined on a bold move might get shot down on the spot but it's better than waiting the thing he did was to leap suddenly upon the crest of the snow bank with his hands held high in air at the same time keeping a sharp eye on the attackers if they shot he would instantly drop back they did not shoot their rifles went to their shoulders but when they saw his hands in the air they hesitated after a brief consultation two of them with rifles extended before them for a hip shot walked slowly towards him when they were within 20 yards of him curly said in the calmest tone he could command what's the matter with you fellows I didn't steal your reindeer found him tangled in a thicket where he would have starved besides I have no guns what harm could I do you what harm could I do you without a word the two men proceeded to advance as they came closer curly became convinced that they were Indians and not Eskimos as he had supposed them to be that makes it look different he told himself they may be reindeer wrestlers who have stolen the reindeer herd probably are never heard of a reindeer herd being given to Indians might have for all that or they may be just hurting them for some white men as the two men came up to him one man felt of his clothing for concealed weapons after this with a grunt he pointed toward the cabin then led the way leaving his companion to bring up the rear arrived at the edge of the forest the foremost man joined the man who had remained behind for consultation in tones too low to be understood he returned to Curly and again motioning him to follow led him to the low log cabin once inside the cabin he pushed Curly into a small dark room after which he swung a heavy door and dropped a ponderous bar well now what about that Curly whispered to himself a hasty survey of his prison revealed a chair and a rough bed made of poles on which there rested some filthy blankets the place was lighted by two windows not more than ten inches square the walls were of heavy logs I wonder who they are and who they think I am he asked himself he sat down to think and as he did so his arm brushed his belt at that moment an inspiration came to him worth trying anyway he whispered as he rose hastily I have to be quick about it though lucky that windows at the back of the cabin end of chapter 19 recording by Tom Penn Chapter 20 of On the Yukon Trail by Roy J. Snell this lemur rocks recording is in the public domain Chapter 20 we have met with disaster Curly's fingers working rapidly yet with trained precision drew various articles from his belt a coil of fine wire two long spools made of some black substance a pocket spirit lamp a miniature metal retort three small balloons made of a specially prepared elastic fiber all these and many more things appeared as if by magic and were spread out upon a blanket on the cot after unwinding and winding again some yards of fine copper wire he snapped open the metal cased spirit lamp and a tiny flame appeared attaching a balloon to the retort he applied the flame to the body of the retort once the balloon began to expand chemicals already in the retort were assuming a gaseous form just here he found himself facing a difficulty the balloons were going to expand to a size beyond that of the windows with lightning like decision he climbed upon a chair and thrust a balloon, retort, spirit lamp and all out of the window there he held them all at arms length might be seen but I can't help it he muttered the balloon was tugging at his hand when the tug had grown strong he snapped on our rubber band withdrew the retort tied the balloon to a round of the chair and was at once busy with a second balloon when all three balloons were bobbing about outside the window he breathed a sigh of relief attaching a spool of fine wire to a silk cord which was tied to all three balloons he allowed the balloons to rise while he played out two strands of wire having reached the second spool he allowed the fine copper wire which he had thus made to rise with the balloons until they had reached a height of 300 feet a fine insulated copper wire ran from the aerial to the ground this he attached to an instrument in his belt having tuned in on 200 he sat down calmly to repeat in a low tone at regular intervals S-O-S S-O-S S-O-S it was the only way he had been able to think of for letting the world know he was in trouble it brought results for soon to his waiting years came a gruff grumble which resembled the growl of a bear disturbed from his slumber hey, what's a rumpus? what do you want? who are you? curly whispered back deputy marshal mcdonald of the US station at cemizals who the blazes are you? slowly distinctly in a tense whisper curly told of this predicament I know them came in a roar through the air they stole those deer don't let them know you know when they come in let them listen to me tell them who I am they know me that'll settle them tell them I'll follow them to the pole if they don't let you go no, don't tell them let me they don't know about radio phones just got mine last week they're superstitious it'll knock them dead let me tell them alright whispered curly keep your batteries connected and stand by I'll see what I can find out nothing like the little old radio he told himself nothing at all like it when you're in a pack of trouble hanging his receiver on a nail he turned toward the door placing his ear against a crack he listened to his surprise he found that the men were speaking English one of them is a half breed maybe of another tribe and doesn't understand the native language of the others was his mental comment as he now and then caught a snatch of the conversation his blood ran cold there could be no mistaking the subject of their debate they were discussing the question of whether or not he, curly should be killed the half breed was standing out against it while the others insisted that it was the only safe thing to do so determined were they about it and so earnest in their debate that at times their voices rose almost to a shout if you were to consult me on the matter curly whispered to himself I would most certainly agree with my old friend the half breed even as he joked with himself the true significance of his situation was born more closely in upon him here he was many miles from human habitation in the heart of a wilderness three men calmly debated his destruction two against one there could be no question of the verdict escape was impossible the windows were too small the men were powerfully built there was no chance to fight his way to freedom there stood between him and death a slender wire reaching up to two yet more slender ones hanging in the sky what if the gas escaped from the balloons what if a sudden gust of wind sent them crashing down into the treetops to tear and tangle as slender aerials what if the deputy at the other end should make some mistake and be unable to listen in little wonder that as he stood there listening waiting his face turned gray with anxiety and fear in the meantime an important message had come to Joe and Jennings as they listened in on long wavelengths from their camp some ten miles from the cabin the message was from the explorer Munson Munson's expedition Munson speaking came the voice from the air we have met with the air dash to pole abandoned ice began piling at four this morning many supplies much gasoline lost will not have enough gasoline to bring planes to the land one plane smashed cannot bring food only men if supporting party can be sent from due north of flaxman island it may save our lives listen to the message as it was repeated three times then turned a grave face to Jennings that's serious he said after he had repeated the message I might answer it but what could I promise him you'd only give our position away to the outlaw I might try to relay the message to others he might help there's no one near enough then the only thing we can do is try to reach them with such supplies as we can carry looks that way just now said Jennings wrinkling his brow we might think of something later how about the outlaw do we get him first that's the question we'll have to wait and see might get another message later in the meantime let's turn in early and get a start tomorrow before daybreak the importance of our mission to the north has greatly increased end of chapter 20 recording by Tom Penn chapter 21 of On the Yukon Trail by Roy J. Snell this LibriVox recording is in the public domain chapter 21 a tense situation if Curly's knees trembled as he heard the heavy bar being lifted from the door there was no trace of emotion on his face when at last the door swung open and he stood facing his three captors welcome in he smiled coolly I was just thinking of calling you you see he explained I've just been talking to your old friend McGregor of the US service the men started back to stare about the small room as if suspecting that the deputy was hidden somewhere within he's not here smiled Curly I knew danger which confronted him was enjoying the situation I was just speaking to him over the phone phone the half breed whispered the words it was evident that the trio was more bewildered than before they had seen telephones and telephone wires in centers of civilization which they had visited they knew what they were knew too that there was not a yard of telephone wire within 300 miles of their cabin as for a telephone had they not built this cabin and then could it contain a telephone without their knowing it hmmm granted the older of the two Indians he uttered a low laugh of contempt which showed plainer than words that he thought Curly was bluffing Curly's hand went to his side he looked at a transmitter to his lips then touched a button on his belt are you there McGregor he pronounced the words distinctly it was one of those periods of time in which one lives a year in the space of a moment a moment tense with terrible possibilities into Curly's mind there flashed a score of questions was McGregor there would he respond would the Indians be frightened by the point of giving him up if he did was the slender aerial still dangling in the air and still working these and many others sped through his active brain as breathlessly he waited then suddenly with a fervently whispered thank god he caught McGregor's gruff voice ah here let me have him put him on the older Indian was so surprised by Curly's actions that the receiver was on his head before he knew it the next instant his mouth sagged open his eyes bulged out his knees scarcely supported him he was hearing McGregor's voice he did not know how nor why but he heard it was enough he was afraid for three minutes they all stood their spellbound then apparently the voice ceased well what do you want the Indian quavered only my reindeer my sled and a chance to get away from here smiled Curly most peeling go get him the Indian spoke to the half breed at once he was away alright McGregor Curly breathed into the transmitter thanks a lot hope I meet you sometime if there's anything further you'll get my SOS turning to the window he began hauling in on the wire and silk cord just as the reindeer arrived at the door he replaced in his belt the last bit of apparatus all okay for next time he whispered to himself trust the old radio phone to pull you through after leaving the cabin he was obliged to lead his reindeer for the first two or three miles had he not done this the deer might have rebelled again and gone racing back wish I'd insisted on them giving me a rifle he told himself wish there was some way of getting that reindeer heard from them he thought a few moments later it's a shame that they should rob the Eskimo that way the reindeer are everything to the Eskimo food, clothing, bedding and means of travel it's a crime to rob them of course the rascals will be caught and punished but by that time the splendid herd may be scattered to the forewinds little did he guess the strange circumstances under which he would see that herd again nor of the ways in which the herd would assist him in carrying out the purposes which were already forming in his mind an exclamation of joy escaped his lips as he swung back on the trail running along the ridge there after the outlaw good old Jennings and Joe we'll get him yet I'll catch up with them hooray he threw his hands in the air and gave such a lusty shout that the reindeer came near leaping out of his harness he had discovered that while he was being held prisoner by the Indians Joe and Jennings in pursuit of the outlaw had passed him all I've got to do he told himself is to speed up this old white ship of the Arctic desert and I'll be with them in 24 hours in this he was mistaken but since he did not know it he went bumping merrily along over the ridges now and then shouting at his reindeer now and then bursting forth into snatches of boisterous song he appeared filled with quite as much joy as a boy off for a fishing trip so for hours he traveled until his reindeer was in need of rest and food then he turned off into the edge of the scrub spruce forest here after tethering the deer in an open spot where there was much moss he built himself a rude shelter of green boughs kindled a fire roasted some strips of reindeer meat procured from the Indians then crept into his sleeping bag here for a time threw a crack in his green canopy he watched the big dipper in its wide circle about the north star which blinked down from nearly straight above him he at last fell asleep in the meantime in a camp some distance further down the valley beneath a cut bank at the edge of a frozen river companions were receiving a strange and startling message the message was once more from months in the explorer again the expedition had met with disaster having attempted the flight to shore in their airplanes they had made but half the distance when one of the planes became disabled and landed to crash into a pile of ice with the remaining planes much overloaded they had been obliged to abandon all food 200 miles from shore the gasoline had given out making fortunate landings on broad icepins they had at once started on foot for shore they had been carried to the right by a strong gale and would doubtless reach land some 20 miles west of their food depot on Flaxman Island that is they would land there if anywhere without food they were well nigh hopeless still they had two light rifles and a hundred rounds of ammunition there were seals in water holes and polar bears wandering over the flows there was a chance for life if anyone listening in on this message were in a position to come out and meet them they might be the instruments in saving lives that means us said Joe and it means such a struggle we've never experienced before means we leave the trail of the outlaw at once said Jennings why Joe stammered this trail will lead us 20 miles out of the way Flaxman Island is 20 miles to the east of us these explorers are straight ahead we follow this stream straight to the sea hard packed river trail all the way the outlaw unless I miss my guests we'll turn off soon to cut across the hills we haven't much food to take to them we have our dogs said Jennings grimly me don't eat dogs when they're starving Joe looked at his old leader Ginger who lay with feet stretched out before the fire the dog roves stretched himself then walked over to rub his cold nose against his young master Joe gulped yes I suppose they do we'll unload everything we don't need all that radio phone equipment except the light set and cash them here then we'll make a flying trip of it and he said noting Joe's discomfort at the thought of sacrificing his faithful four the team that had fought with him starved with him and carried him so far we got rifles and ammunition who knows what game may bob up to take the place of our dogs end of Chapter 21 recording by Tom Penn Chapter 22 of On the Yukon Trail by Roy J. Snell this lemur watch recording is in the public domain Chapter 22 a mad dream it was with a feeling of great accomplishment that currently early in the afternoon of the next short Arctic day came upon a pile of radio phone instruments and other articles which had been piled beside the trail by his companions now what does this mean he said addressing his reindeer can't be they've been ambushed and robbed things are piled away too carefully for that hello he exclaimed a moment later they've left the trail of the outlaw of all the unbelievable things what could have induced them to do that can't be trying to outflank him trail they've taken is a lot longer than his he returned to sit down on the sled and scratch his head traveling light they are I'll never catch them now again he was silent for some time wish they had left me a rifle I go after the outlaw single handed but of course they wouldn't don't even know I'm alive let alone on their trail with a reindeer nothing more improbable than that wish I'd risked a call to them didn't dare though outlawed no we were after him if he'd listened in now what's to be done have to see how much radio phone stuff they've left behind for some time he busied himself sorting out the parts of the heavier radio phone set and connecting them up all here he breathed at last even my little outfit for making mince pie of a fellow's speech then piecing it together again Joe took all the smaller set though that's good best thing I can do is to camp right here and wait until I'm sure they must be camped for the night then I'll send out a signal and see if I can get them I can talk mince meat fashion so the outlaw won't know what it's about anyway got to get in touch with them some way or another realizing that after hearing from them he might want to travel at night to make up for lost time after tethering his reindeer he crept into a sleeping bag and in a moment fell into a sound sleep so it was quite dark getting busy at once with his radio phone he sent a signal quivering through the air and you received no response a half hour later he sent out a second still no answer that's queer mighty queer he murmured still they may have made rapid time and got in ahead of the outlaw maybe close in too close to risk an answer no harm in keeping on trying though it will be remembered that Curly had not listened in on any of the messages sent by the exploring party as a consequence he was totally ignorant of their plight and unable in any way to account for his companion sudden change of course queer business he told himself as he prepared to send his third signal mighty queer every half hour for three hours he sent out the signal then just as he was about to give it up his receiver rattled and a succession of short, sharp meaningless sounds began to pour forth that's Joe he smiled delightedly nobody up here can talk that language now we'll know what's what his conclusion was correct it was Joe speaking as he decoded the jumbled message he needed only to signal back and answering okay in short concise sentences Joe had told him all that he needed to know and now he sat down rather dizzily on his sled where does that leave me far as I can see it leaves me guarding in the food supply until the party gets in it's the best I can do and unless I miss my guests it's going to be some job I'm to be a guard without a gun and the fellow I'm going up against has a gun probably two or three of them after a few moments had elapsed he spoke again short days journey now no use risking coming upon him in the night might as well take another snooze and freshen up a bit at that he crept into a sleeping bag once more but not to sleep at once his mind was too full of thoughts for that the curtain to the crowded third act of this little drama of life which he had been playing was he felt sure about to rise what was it to be like what gunplay what struggles what battle of wits would be enacted upon that light and glistening stage with no audience save the stars his mind was filled with a thousand questions who was the outlaw was he the smuggler chieftain or was he not what grudge did he hold against the great explorer that he would travel all this distance to satisfy it or did he hold a grudge at all was he merely coming here to winter in safety would he can't buy the food depot or would he destroy it who was his companion or did he have no companion had it been he who had appeared in the mirage or had it not who was the whisperer or was there no whisperer if there was such a person was that person a girl and was she with the outlaw at the present time if he succeeded in outwitting the outlaw would he at last meet the whisperer face to face all these and many more questions seething through his brain kept him for a long time awake but at last Marina's conquered and he fell asleep when only a few hours later he awoke it was with a feeling of impending danger before he opened his eyes he could hear the reindeer thrashing about among the willows to which he was tied in a vain attempt to break away when he opened his eyes it was to stare up at a broad sky which appeared to be all on fire the food depot he groaned leaping to his feet it was closer than I thought it's gone burned no he exclaimed a second later no it's worse than that he put his hand to his forehead the next instant reeling like a drunken man in a delirious dream of a reindeer End of Chapter 22 Recording by Tom Penn Chapter 23 of On the Yukon Trail by Roy J. Snell Leslie Brevoch's recording is in the public domain Chapter 23 A Bear A Bear In the meantime Joe Marion and Jennings were making their way over the treacherous ice flow toward the party of explorers who were battling for their lives against the winter and ever perilous flows they had crossed a broad expanse of ice which level as a floor lay between the shore in a series of low barren sandy islands then for three miles further they had traveled over ice which was frozen to the shore this ice piled as it had been by storms of early winter into fantastic heaps here and there mixed with flat cakes and with narrow teamstone like fragments set on end was nevertheless firmly united to the shore over this winding back and forth on flat cakes and over tumbled piles of ice they traveled without fear when they came to what lay beyond this all was changed they entered upon a new life with fear and trembling true the ice pressed hard on shore by a north wind was not at this moment moving yet the slow rising and falling of a broad cake of ice here the crumbling of a pile there told them that they were now far out over the fathomless ocean told them too that should the wind shift to south east or west they might at any moment be carried out to sea never to be heard of again can't be helped Jennings said grimly as he spoke of this when the lives of 30 of Uncle Sam's brave citizens are at stake one does not think of personal danger he goes straight ahead and does his duty our duty lies out there he pointed straight over the ice flows which lay far as I could scan out to sea right oh said Joe as he turned to urge the dogs forward it was hard on Joe this urging of his faithful for forward over the difficult trail wouldn't be so bad he told them if I wasn't driving you straight on to your own destruction to think that after all this struggle your reward is being eaten by some starving explorers that's what breaks my heart oh well he sighed as he climbed a tumble pile of ice fragments there may be a way out yet night came on and still by the light of the moon they fought their way forward every moment counted their own lives as well as the lives of those they sought to rescue were at stake only when the dogs completely exhausted lay down in the traces and howled piteously begging for rest and food did they pause and seek a place for the night a broad cake of ice some hundred yards wide from edge to edge was chosen in the center of this they pitched their tent no arctic feathers for them that night only the hard surface of the ice but even such a bed as this was welcome after a day of heroic toil when the dogs had been fed and they had eaten their own supper they set up the radio phone being detected by the outlaw sought to get into communication with the exploring party got to find out whether we were going right Joe explained in a surprisingly short time they received an answer and were cheered by the news that their course was correct and that they were at this moment not more than 75 miles from the explorers with good luck did not the ice flow begin to shift they might almost hoped to meet the men they sought at the evening of the next day and to relieve them of their suffering from hunger after getting in touch with Curly and rejoicing over the knowledge that he was alive and safe they crept into their sleeping bags and speedily drifted away to the land of dreams Joe was awakened some time later to hear old major sawing at the chain which bound him to his sled and barking lustily before his eyes were fully open he heard a ripping sound at the flaps of the tent the next instant two great round balls of fire appeared at the gap made in the tent wall Jennings, Jennings he shouted hoarsely a bear, a bear the polar bear attracted by the sound of his voice lunged forward taking half the tent with him Joe had scarcely timed creep back into the depths of his sleeping bag when the bear's foot came down with a thud exactly where his head had been a second before what Curly Carson saw as he plunged toward his reindeer there at the edge of the scrubbed forest was a spectacle which might well have staggered a person much older than himself the forest of scrubbed spruce was on fire the fire was traveling toward him seemed indeed to be all but upon him there was not a breath of air the fire traveled by leaping from tree to tree the very heat of it appeared to seize the dwarf trees and uprooting them to hurl them hundreds of feet in air it was such a spectacle as few would call upon to witness a red column of flame rose a sheer hundred feet in air dry rosiny spruce cones and needles rose like feathers high in air to go rocketing away like sparks from a volcano the sky, the very snow all about him seemed on fire and near so near he muttered through parched lips as he tore at the thong which bound his terrified reindeer to the willow bush his thought had been to loose the reindeer and clinging to the sled to escape it was fortunate that the thong resisted his efforts for just as he was about to succeed in loosing it he caught above the tremendous roar of the fire a strange crack cracking the next instant he saw a vast herd of wild and half tame things all maddened by the fire bearing down upon him there was just time to flash his knife twice to cut the thong in the sledstrap then to leap astride the white reindeer then the surge were upon him like a mighty flood they surrounded him and gulfed him carried him forward he saw them as in a dream reindeer by a hundred caribou by thousands wolves, a bear all struggling in a mad effort to rush down the narrow valley from the destroying pillar of fire he saw a wolf snapping at caribou's heels saw innumerable hooves strike the wolf and bear him down to sheer destruction trampled him to death he shivered trampled him as they would me if I fell from my reindeer he clung to the deer's neck and to his harness with the grim grip of death sled's gone radio phone set gone everything gone but life in a reindeer thus far you are lucky so his mind seemed to tell him things as he felt himself floating forward as if on the backs of the innumerable host End of Chapter 23 Recording by Tom Penn Chapter 24 of On the Yukon Trail by Roy J. Snell The Sleeper Vox recording is in the public domain Chapter 24 A Wild Mixup Just when Joe trapped in the sleeping bag with the ponderous bear moving near him was wondering what had happened to Jennings he felt himself suddenly lifted from the ice and shaken till his teeth rattled then suddenly he went crashing upon the hard surface beneath him he guessed well enough what had happened the bear had seized the sleeping bag and having lifted it as a cat lifts a rat had shaken it violently then the deer skin had given way beneath Joe's weight and he had gone down with a thump what next? his agitated mind asked him what next? he could only guess at what happened next inside his sleeping bag he could see nothing but that something tremendous was happening he was forced to believe from the mouth of the bear there came a sudden sound like the hissing of a cat and after that such a tumbling and thrashing the bear heard tell of over and over the bear appeared to roll there were sounds of tearing canvas and straining ropes once the bear rolled across his feet and for a second he feared he would be lained for life then suddenly the sound ceased he only knew one thing which was that something heavy rested on his sleeping bag to realize what had really happened we must follow Jennings as he proceeded to meet this strange and novel situation being more fortunate than Joe he had succeeded in wriggling from his sleeping bag and in grasping his rifle before the bear saw him he had been engaged in the business of getting a bead on the bear's ponders head when there came a sudden tearing at the ropes of the tent the next instant it doubled up and came flapping down on him if you were able to imagine what it might be like to be caught in a net with a whale you have some notion of Jennings position at this time the tent had enveloped both him and the bear together they rolled over and over one moment it seemed he would be crushed to death and the next, as an opening appeared a new rent on the canvas it seemed that he might be freed at last with a mighty effort he pinched himself loose and, much to his own astonishment found that he still grasped his rifle in his left hand the bear was still thrashing about Joe was still buried beneath the tent Jennings was just trying to figure out the next move when he heard one of the dogs let out a wild ca-ya-ya of fright wheeling about he saw a huge bear grasping a dog by the middle of the back with his teeth and attempting to carry him away since the dog was chained to a sled and six other dogs were also chained to that sled it was necessary for him to drag the sled and six very reluctant dogs after him be funny if it wasn't serious said Jennings grimly as he took steady aim at the beast's head three times his automatic rifle barked the bear crumpled up in a heap there was, however, not a second to be wasted as he turned he found himself staring at a towering white apparition this apparition which stood some three feet above his head had red gleaming eyes and a lolling tongue the second bear had escaped from the tent angered by his experience in the death of his companion he was ready for battle with these strange invaders of his domain what satisfaction do you said Jennings grimly well, there take it with a movement that for speed and accuracy could not be beaten he thrust the muzzle of his rifle at the base of the bear's skull and fired thus a second bear had just been bagged by Jennings when Joe came creeping out of his sleeping bag for a few seconds he sat rubbing his shins then suddenly his face lightened with a smile as he sang out we killed the bear Betsy and I killed the bear well, anyway smile, Jennings you're gonna have one of your dearest wishes granted your old dogs Ginger, Pete, Major and Bones will have to be fed to the starving explorers here's a day's rations for the commitment of soldiers I bet that big bear weighs a ton and a half whoopee! cried Joe springing to his feet and rushing over to embrace his astonished friend Ginger that's sure good news to us 16 inches between the ears pronounced Jennings after measuring with his hands the skull of the fallen goliath of the north some bear some bear I'd say echoed Joe there's a day's work to be done on the tent said Jennings he ripped it up something awful but we'll have to make it do at least till we meet Munson yes, until we get ashore guess so in the hand let's see what shift we can make for a week more of sleep before we march on in a few moments Joe and Jennings were curled up in their sleeping bags snoring as if they were safe in bed at home End of Chapter 24 Recording by Tom Penn Chapter 25 of On the Yukon Trail by Roy J. Snell This LibriVox recording is in the public domain Chapter 25 The Wild Stampede At no time in Curly Carson's adventurous life had he experienced such strangely mingled emotions as he did while riding us tried the white reindeer in the midst of the wild stampede a sea of tossing antlers was all about him behind him was the red glare of a mountain of flame what the next moment would bring forth he could not even guess now the mass of struggling life was crowded into a narrow runway between banks of a river and now they spread out over an open flat now his legs were pinched by antlers pressed against them and now he rode almost alone but always his white steed plunged on into the night made light his day by the great conflagration our hope is in the open tundra open treeless tundra he told himself over and over the great horde of creatures seeming to know this by instinct headed straight for it now he could see the tundra's broad white expanse gleaming before them would they make it? the fire was gaining upon them he felt a hot breath of flame upon his cheek the crowding from behind became all but unbearable beside him mouth open, panting raced a monstrous caribou before him crashed a spotted reindeer would they make it? now they were a half mile from safety now a quarter the smell of burning hair came stiflingly from the rear and now the foremost of the pack reached the open tundra then like a swollen stream which has suddenly broken through its barriers they spread out racing still over the silent glistening expanse of white prairie like tundra a few of the weaker ones have perished the great mass of this life is saved was curly's mental torment a mile from the flames curly dropped stifly from his place on the reindeer's back and patting his head in grateful appreciation tied him with a loose rope to a willow bush there he murmured feed up a bit the reindeer began digging in the snow for moss while curly climbed a nearby knoll to have a look at the strange spectacle as each wild creature pursued his own course curly looked on with interest the wolves were the first to slink away the bear a huge barren ground grizzly climbed a distant hill there to suck his sore paws in nurses grievances the caribou began passing to right and left like some army ordered to deploy and in an astonishingly brief space of time had all disappeared only the reindeer 500 to a thousand in number remained to feed peacefully upon the moss of the tundra well curly said to himself it seems I've come into possession of a reindeer herd don't seize they have any masters no men in sight just then a dog barked it was answered by a second one dogs he exclaimed two of them that's interesting wonder what kind putting two fingers to his lips he sent out a shrill whistle a moment later two beautiful collies came racing up to him collies he cried in great joy reindeer collies here I am all set up in business with a herd of reindeer and collies to help herd them he sat down to think this was undoubtedly the herd which had been held by the Indians had the fire caught them unawares and had they been burned alive or had they set the fire in hope of concealing their theft of the reindeer if they're still alive and did not set the fire he told himself they'll be along after the fire ties down and they'll be more trouble on the other hand if I could take some of these deer out upon the ice flow to meet Joe and the explorers it would be a great boon to them plenty of meat the right kind too it might save their lives but there's the outlaw he exclaimed suddenly got to settle him first he can't why he can't be more than eight or ten miles from the food depot on Flaxman Island a brisk morning's walk that's all after careful deliberation he decided to mount his reindeer and ride directly for the shore of the island the island would be solidly connected to the shore by the ocean ice he would search out the depot and ride boldly up to it surely he told himself no man who plots mischief is going to be afraid of an unarmed boy getting a reindeer hope I can catch him unawares and steal a march on him having put his plan into action his faithful reindeer and he soon went racing away over the tundra coming to the shore of the island in order to reach the north shore where the food depot was placed he began skirting it the ice was everywhere smooth as a floor and covered with just enough snow to give the reindeer good footing would be a regular lark if it wasn't so dangerous this marching right up to a man you have followed for thousands of miles is not what it's cracked up to be a high cut bank hid the food depot a long low building from his sight until he was all but upon it as he rounded the point of the cut bank he saw a man whose back was turned to him disappear around the northwest corner of the building did he see me he breathed all play he didn't hastily wheeling his reindeer about he retreated to the shelter of the cut bank here after a moment's thought he tied the reindeer to an outcropping willow root then on hands and knees crept back to the corner peeping around the point he stood at strained attention he saw no one heard no one happy spying at me he whispered got to risk it though at that he leaped to his feet and dashed full speed toward the cabin the distance was 200 yards his heart beat madly would he be shot down before he reached that shelter now he had covered half the distance now two thirds now three quarters that his footsteps might not be heard he was on tiptoes with his breath coming in short gasps he leaped to a corner of the cabin threw himself upon the snow close to the wall and was for the moment safe so much so good he breathed now if only he doesn't see me first into chapter 25 recording by Tom Penn chapter 26 of on the Yukon Trail by Roy J. Snell this lever box recording is in the public domain chapter 26 the sparkle of diamonds just as Joe and Jennings had finished their breakfast of polar bear meat and were preparing to go forward the broad cake of ice on which they had camped gave a sudden lurch then rose to such an angle as threatened to pitch them all into a yawning gap of black water Joe sprang forward the dogs howled dismally only Jennings kept his head wonder if that's the beginning of a breakout he said wrinkling his brow if it is every man buck with that exploring party is lost and will be doing fine if we escape ourselves it's a tremendous affair when this ice gets to piling big cakes wide as a city lot thick as a one story house climb on top of each other like kittens playing with a yarn ball what's a man's chance in a mess like that there was however no thought of turning back as long as there was a chance of saving Munson's party their duty lay straight ahead only one part of their plans was changed it was decided that they would pack their dogs as burrows or pack on mountain trails and not until the return trip their sled should be abandoned it was a strange procession that started out over the roughly piled ice Jennings with a bulky sleeping bag strapped to his back led the way he was followed by a long line of dogs on each dog's back was securely fastened a long strip of meat Joe brought up the rear with the other sleeping bag had an airplane passed over them as they moved forward its pilot might have seen what seemed some huge brown worm wriggling its way in and out among the ice piles to their great relief the ocean staged no more demonstrations the ice remained motionless all day guided by a compass they made their way forward far into the night they traveled two hours after midnight they ate and rested then again pushed forward just as the tardy sun was rising they heard a shot in the distance and to their great joy found themselves a few moments later being cheered lustily by the worn out and starving explorers soon over a fire of barifat caribou meat was roasting when an hour later they started back over the trail it was with high hopes of reaching shore in safety yet many a mile of treacherous ice lay between them and that coveted gold the site which met Carly Carson's gaze as he finally mustered up courage to creep up to the corner of the food depot building and peer around it made his blood boil hot with anger before him crouching over and placing the last contributions to a huge bonfire of excelsior paper and packing boxes piled against the building was the outlaw guessed right Carly told himself and just in time a moment more and the thing would have been done the house all aflame he means to burn it but he won't a second glance showed him the outlaw's sled pile high and his dog team grouped about it all ready to race away he breathed as he tightened his muscles for a spring it was a desperate chance from the man a rifle leaned against the cabin the man was between Carly and the rifle there was not a moment to lose with a snarl like a tiger Carly sprang for the others back they went crashing to the snow in a heap the struggle was brief and terrific when they broke their hold Carly was bruised and bleeding but he had gained a point an all important point between the man and his rifle quicker than a cat he sprang for it and the next instant aimed at Square at the others breast with a wild cry of terror the man turned and fled toward the shore where ice was piled in jagged heaps still panting from his recent struggle Carly followed him slowly he was examining the rifle it was a new design totally unknown to him good thing he didn't know I couldn't fire it he breathed they say what you don't know don't hurt you well that's one time it did after a moment's struggle he discovered the rifle's secret he smiled as he walked out upon the ocean's ice thinks he can hide from me guess he failed to notice that in this still cold air one's breath rises far above him he'll have to stop breathing if he wishes to escape he walked straight toward a high ice pile in a moment later he had the pleasure of seeing a dark object dart away from it I could shoot him he told himself deserves it too trying to burn those supplies and leave thirty men to freeze and starve wonder why I did it I'll find out I'll tire him out then capture him after that I'll ask him he never did the game of hide-and-go-seek had lasted for two hours when the man pursued started straight across a broad expansive ice which was smooth as a floor that looks dangerous looks like new ice gasped curly as he threw himself flat down upon it with his sheath knife he hacked at it until a stream of water came bubbling up and he heard the wild rush of the current that raced on beneath it not more than half an inch thick he breathed to himself the next instant he was on his feet backing off the ice and shouting hey hey there danger danger thin ice he did not complete the last word for just at that minute there came a wild shout of despair splitting from end to end the ice caved in at the middle for a moment the man clung to the edge then the current seized him just before he disappeared his right hand went up in a shower of sparks which glimmered and glistened like stars went shimmering away across the dark water to light upon a broad stretch of ice which had not broken diamonds breathed curly diamonds and rubies from Russia he was the smuggler chief wonder why I threw them that way the question had no answer yet there they lay thousands of dollars worth of jewels out of a fellow's reach for the present curly told himself but I guess if the ice doesn't break up anymore for a day or two it will be easy to come out and pick them out of the ice and now he told himself I must get in some quick work on behalf of our friends the explorers with a whole reindeer herd at my disposal I ought to be able to do something he walked away for a hundred yards then paused to look back it's tough he told himself tough to be blinked out like that no question he deserved it but there's so much bad in the best of us then we can well afford to feel a lot of pity for the worst of us with that he turned and hurried away toward the shore end of chapter 26 recording by Tom Penn