THE TRAIL OF ADVENTURE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LX, Issue 18565, 24 November 1923, Page 5 (Supplement)

THE TRAIL OF ADVENTURE.

BY OTTWELL BINNS,

(Copyright.)

.*• SYNOPSIS. Chapter I. describes the arrival in Skagway of » young Englishman, Roy Ranleigh, and his American friend, Purnell. Walking up the main street of the town in search _of lodgings, they at last secure accommodation in a hotel and sally out again to make some purchases. On entering the store Ranleish is greatly attracted by the extraordinary beauty and refined voice and air of a giri, whose attire, consisting of eumhoots, breeches and Indian tunic, seems oddly incongruous. \ desperado, who enters soon after, assaults the girl, and Ranleigh, forestalling her Indian attendant, rushes to her assistance. The girl, greatb' distressed on his account, begs him to leave at once, as the man whom ho has thrown out is one of Soapy Smith's gang. and will return for revenge. Arrived at their hotel, _ Purnell goes off _ to jnake arrangements for instant departure, but shortly afterwards Ranleigh is visited by the irirl, 'who tells him the gang is scouring the town for him, and conducts him to a boat on Ilia canal, by which they escape. CHAPTER II (Continued.) " The saints preserve us! Ye, Miss T.isette ? What joy wind blows ye into pvea, this night., me child?"

The girl indicated her companion. " Soapv's wolves were after my friend, Mr. Ranleigh—"

" Ranleigh interjected the hotel proprietor. " A rilative I—" •' No connection," broke in the girl, quickly. i; Just a friend who intervened to save mo front insult from one of Soapy's scoundrels, and whom they were out to cet even with. So Joe arid Xanook and I brought him to Dyea out of harm's way, and now we want rooms for the night."

"There's one for ye always, me child: an' inv friend iv yours is welcome at the Aurora, hut 'tis gospel-truth what I told ihini tender-feet that ivory plank lias its slumberer: but if a shake-down in the cook house 'II ino?t the gintleman's needs—"

'• It will at any rate be warm there," laughed Ranleigh. •• Thin we' ! 1 call it done, for inv friend iv Miss Lisette is as welcome as the geese that fly North in the spring. Bring your pack this Avar, sir. We'll make ye comfortable for the night, somehow. But maybe veil be wantia' somethin' to ate first."

No." answered Ranleigh

" Thin come on, bhoy. before any other si.tray bird shows up to demand to share the ni.>t. with ye.'' He turned to the girl. " Miss Lisette, ye know the way to the house quarters. The ould woman will jump for joy at the sight iv ye." Ranleich tented to the girl. " Good night. Miss Lisette, and many thanks for —"

The girl thrust out her hand and interrupted him smilinclv. "Please! Please. Mr. Ranleigh." Then as he took her hand she said: "Good night: and good luck when you hit the gold trail." '• But T shall see you again in the morning!" he cried, protesting*. " Possibly!" she said. "Possibly not. It depends at what hour you rise." •• Then I shall be up with the lark or whatever bird takes its place in Alaska," hp said with a laugh, but with a rinc of earnestness that brought the quick blood to the girl's face. There was a sound of heavy feet in the doorway, and two unkempt men, plainly prospectors, entered the hotel. '•This way. bhoy!" said the proprietor in low warning. " or I 11 not be able to denv*ye company." Ranleigh waved his hand to the girl, and followed the Irishman into the recesses of the hotel. When they readied the rather primitive kitchen the proprietor bade the young man make himself at home. " I'll bring ye blankets an' a pillow prisentlv, an' ye 11 be as snug as a mouse in a hole. There's many a worse lodgin' in Dvea to-night." The place was littered with pots and pans and great tin dis.'ies, but when the "blankets had arrived and a rough bed had V e en made up within reach of .the warmth from the stove, Ranleigh owned that his host was right; and as he stretched himself luxuriously among the blankets h's heart went out to the girl to whom he owed his arrival in Dyea. . Who was she? Lisette Ranleigh—that rll]r h he knew, but it told him little. But that she was well known to the Irishman was clear: and in the morning without undue curiosity he would prooably be able to learn more about her, with a little judicious questioning. It was even possible that the girl herself would te what he wanted to know; for, after all that had happened, it was inconceivable that thev should go out of each others lives, with the casnalness of mere passing ' acquaintance. As he visioned her again, kneeling in the ice-cold wa,er baling steadily, his heart glowed with some thing warmer than mere admiration .or her courage, rtid for a long time he permitted himself Co dwell upon the picture which his mind recalled; but presently, overcome by the heat, he slept, and m his sleep passed into dreams that had nothing to do with the treasure of gold that had brought him fo the bleak inhospitable North.

CHAPTER 111. THE TRAIL OF THE CHILKOOT.

' Dav light was net yet come when Roy Ranleigh was awakened by a. clatter of pans, and as he stretched himself and rubbed his eves he became aware of a strct middle-aped woman who regarded him with an amused stare. " Tis sorry thaC I am to disturb ye, «orr; but in half an hour the bhoys wantin' to hit the trail will be shoutm- for mention it," said Ranleith, rolling out of his blankets. Then he asked ' with a laugh, "Is the lark up e< -- "The lar-r-k ! Shure I've newer heard av the craythure up here But why "Because I promised to be up with it this morning," laughed the young man, Trailing on his boots. ~, . _ , ,j The woman laughed with him. I should say ye was a trifle ahead of the bi-r-rd, S °"That's good! Tell me where I can get a wish, in this establishment' "There's a well at the back, said the ■ woman. an' a line av tin basins. Maybe veil be afther having a towel av jour

own ?" ( "Yes, and soap." " 'Tis the lucky man ye are, for soap is terr'ble short in Dyea these days! lauelieH the woman. ''But there, tis no throuble fo some men." Ranleigh laughed with her and made his wav to the well and to the line of tin basins which the_ establishment provided for the ablutions of particular guests, and after a swill he returned to fhe hotel, his face aglow, his eyes shining with expectation. Making bis way to the restaurant he encountered the proprietor. who greeted him genially. _ "flood morning to ye, Mr. Ranleigh , I hope the night wint peacefully with ye. "I never knew of its going, laughed fhe young man. , "Thin 'twas a perfect night, said the .Irishman cheerfully. "But ye 11 be wantin' breakfast —" , "Oh. I am in no hurry, answered Ranleigh. glancing at the yet empty restaurant. 4 'l suppose Miss Ranleigh. isn't, about vet." The Irishman laughed cheerfully. _ Up ami gone these fwo hours or more.

■'fjone!" As lie echoed the word there was a >ur?e of intense disappointment in R an " leigh's heart, and a look of such Wank dismay on his face that the hotel proprietor cheeked his laughter, and offered explanation. " The child was in a mortal hurry to git hark i*.i Skagwav, bavin' ter hit the trail North to-dav. " 'Tv.aMi't possible that she could shtay. But she left a message for ye."' "A message?" cried Ranleigh, his face aglow with eagerness. "Yes • She said that I was to tell ye that she wished ye 'Good luck on the trail an' plinfv iv 'colour in the pan !' " Ti "low died out of tho young man's face. -Was that all "he asked. "Was there nothing more?" "Nivver a word, me son." "But, she was taking the Northward trail, you said?'' cried Ranleigh with new hope. 'Perhaps von know her destination?" The Irishman shook his luad. "Destination? No. That's a sayrret the child an' her father keep to tliimselvcs !" "She has a father? Is he & miner? Tell me."

" 'Tis nothin* I kin tell, ye, bhoy. Rftoleigh befriended me once whin I was grcbbin* roots an' eatin' bark to keep my soul out iv purgatonf, an' 'tis not for mo to go shoutin' in the strate what Ranleigh wants to keep dark. Maybe as ve're filing North ye may run against the child, but 'tis not likely." Ranleigh was conscious of a sense of desolation. The girl had gone, and the North was so vast and wild that he knew it was little likely that he and the girl w->xtld cross trails again. But there was st 11 hope that ho might see her. "Is there a boat here that I could hire to take me to Skagway?" • "Niwer ft. boat will ye git to make the journey." "But there's a trail over the hills. ~ , *'There is, l>liov 5 but ye 11 not be takin

it." ''"Why not?" demanded Ranleigh, a little heat in his tones.. The Irishman put a kindly hand upon hi: shoulder _ ~ , A 'Because Miss Lisetfe wouldn't want ye to The child brought ye here last nighti at some risk to save ye from bigger risks at Skagway. Ye don't want her to bear that site made the venture for nothin , an' €hat afther all Soapy's crowd plugged ve in Skagway street, Twould be an ungracious thing for ye to follow her back, bhoy, an' well ye know it." i Ranleigh did know it, and owned as much. "Of course you re right. But can't you give roc a hint as to where in the North I might look for her?" " "Veil now—" began the Irishman, then broke off and stared at the young maji with measuring eyes. Then^ he said, " Ve're a gint.bman, av course. ' • I hope so," said Ranieigh. though tie other's words had been an affirmative rather than a question. " There's quality about ye. as tnyone can see mavbe in the old counthry ye're well . . • something or some*hor'y? Mavbe ye've a handle to the na* e iv ye?" . '•anleigh laughed a little at the ns "" m; i's question but answered frankly: ""• m a baronet in England." _ t 'Bv all the saint*. if that isn t a wnder '"cried the Irishman, staring at hi vi in amazement. # . . . •Why?" demanded Ranleigh. divining that itJiere was something behind the Irishman's words to which he himself hud no clue. " 'Tis not for me to tell ye. hhov. answered the other promptly, "an' if ye !sx me I will not do so. .But 'tis sure tlO finger iv Providence is in the pie. I £ uess ye're goning to Dawson?' "Oh course!" " An bevond belike? ' "That is very possible!" . " An' ye want to see the li 1 lr l

; apn.'* The Irishman considered a moment, tien ho asked : " I guess li I Lisette (:in hang your scalp on the tepee pole light enough?" . , In spite of the seriousness of bis Qe<re for information. Roy Ranleigh ashed. . " Well —" he began, only to be mter- ; ted. . . " Sav no more. bhoy. I see bow it is v-it-h VP. an' this much I'll tell ye : If i e should happen to go beyond Dawson, i 5. far as the counthry that lies between Si:? big bend iv the Porcupine River 'tis ] -ivK- possible that ye'll meet the girl ; 'in." . ~ ■' Can't you be more precise, La van- ' Divil a bit." answered the Irishman. ' Mre'dy I've told ye more than I should ; ■:,u' veil*have to be* contint. though to be ~s , -e if ye was to move slickly an git is- front" ye might wait for the colleen i! Lake Bennett." Then I'll have breakfast in double c ; k time and take the trail!" cried f . younger man joyously. " I thought, ye would." laughed the liishman, and left him to his own resources: but when Ranleigh had buckled the pack-straps about him, and was ready 'or the start. Cavannagh appeared again. " Good luck on the trail an' phnty iv colour in the pan— a praste to the band iv ye. when ye're wantin hint for the weddin'." . , , . Tie laughed a great rolling laugh of friendliness as he made the addition to the girl's own message, and thrust out a hand to his departing guest. Ranleigh took if on the instant. "Thank you. Cavannagh!' he said simply, and two minutes afterwards was hi'tins? the trail up Dyea Street. Early as lie was, there were many i• ?rs ahead of him: part of that liner ling line of men which for weeks had owled out of Uvea up to Sheep Camp, a- .1 over the frowning and inhospitable C ; ilkoot. These men for the most part \r, re heavily laden, with shoulders.new iff tV ) galling" pack-straps, and bending to 11 'ir burdens. Lightly ladened as be was, nleigh soon began to overtake and pass tho trudgers. The most of them were vounff. and like himself new to the wiu'itry. though here and there were grizzled veterans who bad tramped the desolate wastes and panned the bottom of many a stream in search of pay-dirt long before the great discovery of placer gold on Bonanza Creek had set the world rineing, and brought the Ishrnaels of the earth to share the spoil. As he passed the heavily-burdened seekers of the Golden Fleece, with a quite natural curiosity, Ranleigh looked at his fellow Argonauts, crawling up the muddy trail. In the first mile or two almost all faces had the same look of eagerness; and notwithstanding the packs that bowed the shoulders, all the pedestrians were characterised by an elasticity and aler - ness that sprang from sheer hopefulness They were on the gold-trail at last, and anticipation was singing in the heart. But presently there came a change, lhe ei.gerness died out as the strain of the desperate realities of the trail began to tell, and all the elasticity withered before tHe cutting wind screaming down the ass rad adding weight to the already cruel picks. Soon he began to pass men resting f om their bitter labours, and the furtner \ r-i went the more numerous these became ; a 'd vet these seemed in 110 way to dimi -sh' the long line of men who crawled 1 e slowly-moving ants, toiling up the h". art-breaking valley toward the menacii j pass. He could see that line "winding 1. 'and out on the trail where in places t' "> passage of manv feet had churned Vri moss to mud; which further on ran a ; :oss flinty places, arid over heaped-up b aiders of granite heaved from the lulls i;. forgotten ages, over which men liter-s'-Jv crawled, with faces set and grim, or grilling and gasping curses according to f•; nature of each man. There were places where that line could only move forward on all fours, and yet it moved—over ground that drew blood. He saw where it disappeared in the dark woods only to re-emerge, moving still, but with infinite slowness toward stormshattered, glacier-worn, weather-beaten Chilkoot. Across the whiteness of the snow-field he could mark its progression clearlv; slowly overcoming the towering and massive barrier that the gaunt and ragged front of the mountain opposed to the puny endeavour of men. From far down the valley it seemed impossible that the line of marching men could ever pass the hoary and storm-swept crest. And vet there was the evidence of his eyes that it did: for up across the ice and snow it. crawled, its component parts no bigger than flies on the white ceiling of some large room, then the line ended, and as he watched he knew that the disappearance of each black dot that in turn made the head of the line and passed from sight meant, that for some man of the iron will and resolute heart the first gateway to the treasure house of the North was won. But not all were destined to pass that frowning and frozen portal. The way tip from the sea, with its bogs, its boulders, its swamps, its roots, its stumps, its slippery places, its sixty-foot pine-trunk flung across the wild Dyea river by way of a bridge, was a great sifter of men. It tested the spirit, and only the indomitable and the true Argonauts survived; the rest it broke and flung away as too feeble for the stern quests of the North. bong before they reached the snow line, before even they reached Sheep Camp, many of these knew defeat, and fell aside from the trail, oppressed with their fate. One such whom Ranleigh stumbled on was seated on a rock at the side of the trail, with his pack unbuckled and thrown off, a look of utter despair on his face, his eves fixed in stony gaze on the stormbeaten giant that guarded the Golden North. As Roy Ranleigh caught the look in [ the man's eyes he halted.

" What's the matter, chum? " The man flashed & single glance at him, then one© more his eyes fixed themselves upon Chilkoofc in stony and fascinated gaze. " Matter? M lie said hoarsely, with a wave of his arm toward the hoary height. " That's the matter. I can't go forward, that —that thing would kill me. It's waiting, just waiting to do it." " Nonsense, man," said Ranleigh; " get a move on and forget it. You have it in you to walk over it." " Walk over it? " The man laughed in a crazy kind of way. " The brute would hit me, pulverise me, throw me in dust to the wind! I can feel it. It is just waiting to do it, crouching up there like a beast." He broke off, flashed a second glance at Banleigh, then he said suddenly : " The Angel with the flaming sword—it's that blasted Chilkoot! "

Ranleigh jecogniged that {the fcnan's norve was gone, that there was nothing to be done with him, and passed on. Half an hour later he met another man, stumbling down the trail toward Dyea and the seaway to the south. The man carried a heavy pack, and he passed the Englishman without so much as raising his eyes to look at him; it may have been shame that prevented him ; but more likely it was theCdull apathy of despair, for he wore the same set stony look that had been on the face of the other man further down the trail.

And everywhere there were men whose faces were grey-white with the strain of their endeavour; men with grim lines about their mouths, and a tense, fixed look in their eyes, who. gal Ted by the pack straps and crushed by unaccustomed burdens, still staggered on, fearing defeat but lighting against it and matching their indomitable souls against the harsh immensities of an alien and inimical nature. To these men every step of the way was pain, every yard burdened with the imminence of defeat; and yet each step represented victory, and each yard won in such dismay was a triumph for the human spirit.

Such men falling into the mud-holes of the trail, lifted themselves out, and with faces , stern and teeth hard-set staggered on once more. When they slipped among the chaos of granite fragments tossed from the high hills In ages past as if to form a barrier to the advance of covetous humanity, and helpless by reason of their heavy packs rolled' backwards. tliey took little account of cuts and bruises, but -with sore limbs and blooded faces, {gathered themselves up and went anew to the assault; the set hypnotic look :n the eyes, the grim lines af agony deepened about their mouths. When they were forced to rest on the terrible Via Dolorosa, these men threw themselves down and lay sprawling by the trail like dead men who were not infrequent. on that road: but presently, cursing, or in silence that was even more eloquent of the strain on their resolution, they gathered themselves up. and moved on their way once more, puny atoms of life matching themselves against the inanimate immensities, which dwarfed them so that they seemed no bigger than sluggish aphides crawling across the world. As Ranleigh, with . his light burden, looked on them, a great pride in his race awoke within him. and he found himself marvelling at what men could endure and not yield. But there were odd contrasts that took his eyes also, and that made hint marvel scracely less at the follies of men. Rounding a pile of rocks which made a screen against the wind where almost all the packers who could find room came to rest, a raucous American voice broke on his ears.

" Ten dollars against five that none of you Jasonites places the pea. Watch the little sprite and see where he hides, then make your bets, gentlemen. So long as the hank lasts you may pile up the dollars without any of the toil of old 'Ercufes. Now, you boys, which of you makes the dollars

* Looking towards the speaker, Ranleigh j saw a man standing by a small folding table on which reposed three walnut shells, around which, drawn by the curiosity or the gambling instinct, were a number of trailers, their straps thrown off, and the packs lying on the ground. " Now, you pioneers of the Golden North, you saw me place the bean. Which of you backs the quickness of his eye against the dealer's clumsy hand ? Ten dollars to five, a hundred to fifty for the man who'll find the fairy." A big man. bowed beneath an immense pack, stumbled forward. His eyes seemed glued to the shells, and ho fumbled in his pocket whilst the shell-man eyed him indifferently. and chanted carelessly: "Tb/ee little nigger shacks standing in a row; find little nigger boy an' colla' the dough." The big man drew forth his wallet, solemnly placed a five dollar bill on the table, and putting a quick hand over one of the shells, as if fearful of some slim action on the part of the owner of the game, lifted it. The pea reposed there plain for all to see. The operator groaned. " Optic-men all dead from starvation where you come from, Rube, I'll lay. But the bank is honest and the bank pays so long as its doors are open. There's your ten dollars. Ten dollars in two seconds; better than a pay-claim on Bonanza. Keep it up an' you'll be a millionaire before you're over the Chilkoot. You got sharp eyes, Rube; sharpest I ever seen. Watch whilst I shuffle the shells an' add to your little store by another little flutter." He shuffled the "shells, and lifting his hands looked st the heavy-laden one expect antlv. But with a sheepish grin on his face" the man shook his head, backing slowly away; and it was -plain that, having won. he would gamble no more. The operator of the game looked at him reproachfully and addressed him in tones of pained surprise. " You milk the bank an' quit the game! Well, I've no remedy. Rube. I take's my chances an' stand my losses, but I'd call it a favour if ver'd just tell me in wot (state, they raise such eagle-eved young Solons as you. Speak up. Rube!" " New England." fewned the other as, still with the grin upon his face, he continued to back away. " " Might hev known it!" groaned the operator. " They're so durn thrifty down there, an' savin' banks is like ferries on a bush! But will any other gent saywhere the nigger slumbers ? Three little nigger shacks standing in a row— Another man quite young, lured bv the thought of easy gain, stepped forward. It was as plain as daylight that he was convinced that he knew tinder which shell the pea rested; and Ranleigh, interested in spite of himself, took a step forward the better to see. " I'll lay a hundred dollars that I find

" A hundred!" The operator whistled and then laughed. " Well, boy, the hank ■will stand it, an'- we're here for big business as for small. If you'll count out the papers you kin find the sleeping beauty. The bank faces the risks." _ The young man counted his bids and pointed to the shell of lis choice. Ranleigh. however, did not see the shell lifted, for at that moment the big man who had won the ten dollars, still retreating from the table, stumbled backward, and fell with his pack against the Englishman. Ranleigh put up his hands to save the man. and they rested on the pack, which pressed almost flat with the weight of the hearer resting on it. In a second the big man had recovered himself and swung round, a silent bur. ferociors menace in his eyes. Rov Rn<>leigb was amazed, then the man said gruffly: " Thank ver, pard. Yc'r saved me from the much." Before the Englishman could reply the man' moved quickly away, and at that moment the voice of the shell operator broke out exultantly. "The bank wins this time! What we loses on the rounal.outs domes swinging hack to us on the S win ; ™. an" so we gets bed an' board an' a dollar for tie day when it rains. ' Three little rugger shacK, standin' in .a row— " Suddenly Ranleigh understood the ferocious look that he had seen in the big man's eves. The fellow was a decoy, ft booster in partnership ' with the man by the table: and the big pack upon his hack was a fraud, as was his whole makeup as an innocent miner. He . lookec round and saw the mar. regarding him with watchful eyes. For a moment he was tempted to proclaim the fraud, then realising the absolute uselessness of any such proceeding on his part, he shrugged, his sho"lder and turned un the trail toward Sheep Camp, marvelling at the trivial follies of men in a setting of immensities so terrible and august. (To be continued oil Saturday next.)