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Short Story.

A Desperate Endeavour. A Tale 01 Alaska. I By HUME KISBET, in the " Bristol ■; Times." (Concluded.) CHAPTER 111.—The Fate of a Woman. Cecil Walbrook was much bettor equipped than were most of his fellowauventurers to the new El Dorado or the snowy North. He had a year's provisions-with him, and money enough to carry him aiong in comfort as far as the line of civilisation extended. It was the end of August before he reached * Vancouver, and, although Strongly advised to wait there until spring, so eager was he to proceed north that he paid no attention to the warnings, except to provision himself amply and provide himself with extra furs. be was about to face winter an its most savage aspect, and pluck a fortune, it possiule, from the jaws of death. At Vancouver he was lucky enough to become acquainted witn a Scotch mmei-, by name Adam Wilson, who had spent most of his life on the goldlields of Australia, and Who was now, like himself, waiting on a chance to get to the Yukon Kiver. Adam was a rough companion, out he had the experience that Cecil as yet lacked ; therefore the two men joined forces, and, securing a passage in the last' boat of the season bound for Dyea, they shipped their traps and started on their adventures. It was a rough and slow as well as dangerous passage round that sterile and forbidding coast, and might have forced less resolute men to pause before they went on to more deadly dangers and privations ; but the two comrades were both fiercely impatient to move on. At Dyea, they procured what they required ; a couple of large sledges with dogs, horses, and two lnuian guides, who for a heavy bribe consented to leave the settlement. They got to Juneau without mishap, and then, without pausing- longer than to purchase some more provisions, they pushed on towards the Chilkoot Fass. The settlers of Juneau, after vainly trying to persuade them to camp there till winter was over, saw them depart with grave foreboding. They were amply provided for in tne matter of provisions, wraps, and furnishings, the weather still remained opeu, if piercingly cold, but winter was terribly close at hand. Three-days after they had departed a dreadful blizzard swept over tne land, and after that men barred their doors, and shut themselves inside their houses to wait until the long Arctic night was over.

Cecil Walbrook and his comrade set out on that wild trail with dogged resolve to let no difficulties conquer them. As for the Indians, they were indifferent stoics, and cared nothing for the dangers and privations before them so that they were well fed and received their wages regularly. They were not social companions, these guides, but they knew their business thoroughly, and did their duty faithfully—if sullenly. They got on fairly well for the first two days, then came that terrible blizzard which rushed down upon them without warning, froze everything up, and buried the lancLin snow. It caught them in a valley, so that its deadly force •was considerably broken by the lofty, wall-like cliffs that surrounded them. 'This was fortunate for them In the first place, as no human life could have survived that fearful storm on the heights. Fortunate also they were that it converted this valley into a prison,

by stopping up all the passes from it: They did not think this during the long mouths of darkness that they were immured in this valley, but afterwards Cecil had reason to be_ grateful to Providence for that mercy shown to him. The Indians acted promptly under the

circumstances, after the worst of the blizzard was over and tlhe snow had for the time ceased to fall. They fixed upon the highest elevation which the valley afforded, which chanced to be under a shelving cliff, and began to erect their winter quarters. ""All"hands were employed at this work, for every hour was now vital. They picked at and shovelled the snow, which froze as fast as it fell, until they had cleared a considerable space of ground, then they built their snow hut, leaving a small tunnel only, to creep out and in. After making the place as comfort-

able as possible—in fact, building this house round their stock—they occupied < themselves cutting down as much Urewoou as they could. The valley was fairly well wooded with larch and birch trees, and the blizzard had torn many of the young trees up by the roots, so that they had only to cut these into portable lengths and carry them inside. This task kept their blood in circulation, -and themselves cheerful while it lasted.

' They might as well have stopped in •Tuneau, however, as they saw now when it was too late to turn back. It would have saved them all the extra expense of having to feed their assistants and sacrifice the horses. The provender which they had brought for their horses they, however, utilised to keep their mattresses and blankets from the ground, and the animals they killed and cut up for food ; an hour's exposure outside made the pieces solid as blocks of J ice. The dogs, however, they kept • live and fed regularly. They were not uncomfortable'ln these winter quarters, Aor they had a good supply of food, '*■ drink, and tobacco. They were not without some pleasure and excitement either ; for although the daylight was short, three hours at most as the winter advanced, yet the moonlights were beautiful, and some famished game found them out, and fell victims to their guns.

Cecil soon got used to the intense cold, which was often SOdeg. below zero, but his comrade, Adam Wilson, succumbed to it, after a lingering month or two, and died before Christmas. They buried him out amongst the snow, and then existence became more dismal to Cecil Walbrook. Only the most robust could have survived the extremity of that terrible winter, but it had one good effect on the survivor. He became like iron, and so

was prepared for the greater hardships still before him. When spring came, 'with its hurricanes of rain and wind, which cleared the passes, he felt confident of being able to face the, thousand miles still before him:

As they struggled on their way, through the horrors of the Chilkoot Pass, he was able to appreciate the mercy that had been shown to hiin in locking him within that sheltering valley. ** When the snows had melted he passed hundreds of uncovered skeletons and corpses of victims who had~l*allen by the way. It was like walking through the Yalley of Defttbrw tracing

the court*, ot an army. From Moscow ■to Poland must have resembled this trail, the spring after Napoleon's retreat; cud the gold still lay beyond that awful sacrifice. It took them three and a-half months of unparalleled privations and dangers, Jiom Hoods, landslips, and other difficulties, before they reached Dawson city ; and when tney got there they found the place in a state of famine. All the winter the inhabitants had been on short commons, so that tho stores which Cecil managed to bring he was forced to distribute. The gudd was there riyh't enough ; and if he Ihad cared to realise on h.s he might Unaive sold Ms gooes at his own price to tihote feu-daed diggers &..d in ir luimilies. Cecil, however, bad. not the Ibeaa-t to do Uliis; t-e. ebore in a ve.y tflijit time ihe wtas reduced to the ccaUA-on of jihUae around Ihiui, >Cnxc toy th.s sacriiicj Ihe hiaSd won the goodwill of 'the wtee community. . „ The gold was in the country iigi.it eiiougn, and many had been successful. But iiiie luck of Cecil WaMDwHk was \h <t of the majority. All that short summer Ihe toiled w.tuout success, and wflieu Winter cunme once aga.h he seamed as far as ever from his fortune. lVulde, or islhiaime ait his failure, kupt Mm fr-in writing home.

Success; or disaster, are often like epidemics ; tluey run a course until some mysterious power abedis tiueui and turns .them ensi'de. Now, whether it was What J'a'dk Colviu's inonety bought good fortune or the sautiike of Cecil nau been accepted by tne F'atee, but iivrn tola hour •that the banker, Ivdinund Wulbivou, cached -that piiwdy dheque, Fortune left off peisccutiin,, and bestowed upon Ihim her 'best gift* instead. The hist ten tihoousand sufficed to put biin out of danger ; before his next bills came due lie was euab.ed to meet them out of the results of his own speeraUuonis without encioajdhing upjn <he stamd uj fund, and before Ciariktmias arrived tint baark was oaice more en its lormer steady •and opulent basis, fie had weathered tne storm without causing alarm to the depositors and shareholders., and could once again face the world a~ an honest imam, lb ■i ■ But he would never be alble to forget *liM!t awful crisis through which he had paused, unknown to all except hJni.e.f, liis aJbsent son, aind his Cod. When he went to dhiurch it was no larger for tlbc sake of reapecti.ibiiity, but with tut •tnite and earnest spirit of a gratuful smmer who had been spa rod to witness <tihc Divine mercy. It tikes ami ui.le to subdue most 'hearts, ain'd few lives paiss without one, at Jeaiat, being vouchsafed to them, if tlhty lhave eyas to sje and wits to understand. Ed'i-Jh .t-ld id one what Cetail 'hiad told her, but visit d the' b .nicer and his wife still as the engaged wile of their aibsen't son. She fckaaglht witu bitterness upon the fatiier who had caused them to part, but she hid tihi-s feeling in 'her own breai.'t, and went about .'hoping that all Would yet be w.l'. The last letters were dated from Dyea, and tlhey "'lkne>w no move could possibly ' came before the next yea'', th re ore they ' lliaid to wait as patiently as human . n&'trare •could endure slow susnenee.

Christmas passed and Easter came, to | be succeeded by hot sumimer, and s.i-l j no signal frum Cecil. J'aick Colvin ran as often as he could down from the c.ty and made himself lagieeaJble, but he did ■not aittempt any loye-mialkinig. He was satisfied to be regarded as her friend for the present, and he could afford to . wait. ; The time came for that toil of eighty ■thousand pounds 'bo be nut or renew.d, and no word fiom 'tllie absent mm. | There were ruamurs now and then | floated over from America of goLl being discovered in Bi'd'tMi Columbia, but ; mothing in the mature of a boo.ll tj caiui:e j the London speculators to interest thean- j selves. The dirii'cwMios of tlhe country ■were too great for men t> risk. The few ] who had gone- prospecting were, i:ke Cecil Walbiwok, uimhiiard of. 'Explorers I reported ibhnt only for a few weeks in the summer could life be supported ; during the long winter no life could exist. The bind was am he-locked and hopeless waste. Jack Colvin did net disturb the bill and agreement. He felt sure now that his money was gone, 'but he did not consider ifflie price too high for the dhanees he now had of winning the woman he sincerely and devot'dely loved. Another wiiin'ter fell upon England, nnd then even Edith Staiunnore gave up .hope. She had studied .the geography of tQia't far-away north, amd she knew ilhat if Cecil had survived Ihe would have written. He was dead—and that love page was closed for ever ! She was (twenty-three this second winter, about the age wllion some women regard the past with regret and the future with a vague uneasiness. As they get older they lose this unlhaippy dread, but the most steadfast of women at twenty■three do not like to contemplate those spreading yeais of solitude.. Jack Oolvin had quietly but persistently mode himself her most intimate friend, and ingratiated himself with her relatives. He was too important a personage for any of his other male acquaintances to offer to compete against Ihim, and wMle treating flier with the utmost respect !he managed in his quia'!-, dominant way to keep rivals back. The banker Iliad long since mourned his son as dead, as all who had known him did ; and so it oaime to pats that a little over twenty-four months from the date Of Cecil Walbrook's departure Edith Stanmore engaged herself to Ids friend Jack Colvin. She did not love the man she had accepted, nor did Ihe 'ask that yet from her ; but She respected him, as ad the world did, as an honourable and well-living man. Jack Oclvin was a Napoleon of finance, and a grave student of barman nature, also the mast devoted of lovers ; but he was not nor could he ba demonstrative as Cecil had been. Tlhe tears slhe shed in lier own room, •as she burnt -the letters ot her dead hero, are unrecorded. In the future she would do her duty, and in time duty would become a sweet pleasure, as 'duty HaiWbJfully performed always becomes. Tlhe niarria&e was fixed for Decemibor, and everybhSmg was prepared on a regal scale. Tlhe man who could drop eighty thousand without an after consideration would celebrate his happiness like a king. % Two days before her wedding Edith received a letter in 'the writing «f that hand that ene thought (long dead. S(he ! took it toaier own room and read it cue-" I fully tlirouglh, and then burnt it, without a tear. It was 'written from New York, ; and announced that Cecil was following it by tlhe next boat He had not written j because he had 'been unsuccessful up to wiitlhin a few weeks of his present letter. New he was rich, antl returning. The bitterne-s 'wlhich EdiHi had felt towards the father passed on to the eos. Was a woman's heart to be weighed by «aia 1 Couia toe totoas o£ iher miim that

heart out, ijugimg ior a worn, ana yvi rcttnain silent ? She wrote a reply wlhiah would reach him in Plymouth. It was brief, and as follows :—" Forget me, I have married your friend." Jack Colvin that same day got his letter lainmouncing that Cecil had t-old one claim to the Now York syndicate for three nundrod (thousand pounds, and was bringing over two other claims to float in London. He had discovered gold in prodigious quantities <m the Youk- n River. Jack sat still after (he read this letter from his partner, and thought wuu d he inform Edith about this unexpected resurrection and let her decide wh d.i of her two lovers she would take now, or hold his tongue till af.e:- :he ma:ri. ge. He rose after a few mome ts of oneditatioiu, and looking this letter in beside tlhe bill ar.d ogreemwmt murmun d, " No. I'll let tihings 'bike their conn Be. If ihe has written to her, tlhe will have decided ; if not, it is too late." Two days alfter th s Mr. and Mk, Colvin departed upon Uheir wedding tour.

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Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/GBARG19040915.2.16

Bibliographic details

Golden Bay Argus, Volume IX, Issue 68, 15 September 1904, Page 3

Word Count
2,516

Short Story. Golden Bay Argus, Volume IX, Issue 68, 15 September 1904, Page 3

Short Story. Golden Bay Argus, Volume IX, Issue 68, 15 September 1904, Page 3