JIMMY GROWS RESTLESS
The city was almost insufferably hot, and Jimmy, who had time on his
hands that afternoon, found it pleasant to saunter through the dim green
shadow among the Stanley pines which crowd close up to its western
boundary. They rose about him, old and great of girth, a tremendous
colonnade of towering trunks, two hundred feet above the narrow riband
of driving road which was further walled in by tall green fern. There
was drowsy silence in those dim recesses, and a solemnity which the
occasional faint hoot of a whistle or tolling of a locomotive bell did
not seem to dissipate, for the civic authorities had, up to that time,
at least, with somewhat unusual wisdom made no attempt to improve on
what nature had done for them. Here they cut a little foot-path, there a
wavy driving road, but except for that they left the Stanley Park a
beautiful strip of primeval wilderness.
Jimmy had arrived in Vancouver a few hours earlier with the _Shasta_
loaded deep, but, although affairs had been going tolerably well with
the Company, this fact afforded him no very great satisfaction. He liked
the sea, and had succeeded in making firm friends of most of the
ranchers and salmon-packers whose produce he carried; but there was
ambition in him, and of late he had been growing vaguely restless. After
all, the command of a boat like the _Shasta_, with some two hundred and
fifty odd tons of carrying capacity, could not be expected to prove a
very lucrative occupation, and Jimmy now and then remembered regretfully
that he might have had a commission in the Navy. He had also an
incentive for desiring advancement, upon which, however, he seldom
permitted himself to dwell, since on two occasions he and Anthea Merril
had read in each other's eyes a fact that had a vital significance to
both of them. Jimmy scarcely dared remember it, but he felt that the
girl would listen when he thought it fit to speak.
That, however, was in the meanwhile out of the question. He must by some
means first make his mark, and, as happens not infrequently in similar
circumstances to other men, he did not know how it was to be done. One
thing, at least, was clear: he could not expect to advance himself very
much by commanding the _Shasta_. There was also, in any case, Merril's
opposition to count on, while the bitterness Eleanor had endued him with
against the man she held responsible for the death of his father had its
effect, and it was in an unusually somber mood that Jimmy strolled
through the shadow of the pines that hot afternoon.
By and by he heard a soft thud of hoofs, and, looking up, felt the blood
creep into his face. He recognized the costly team that swung out of the
shadow, and the girl in the white dress who held the reins in the
vehicle behind them. He also recognized the lady beside her, for her
husband was an Englishman who held high office under the Crown in
Victoria. The fact that she was sitting by Anthea Merril's side
suggested how far circumstances held the latter apart from the
_Shasta_'s skipper. Silver-mounted harness and splendid horses had the
same effect, and, since these things also reminded him of something
else, Jimmy unfortunately lost his head. A sudden vindictive anger came
upon him as he remembered that the money that provided them and stood as
a barrier between him and the girl had been wrung from struggling men,
and that some of it at least was the result of his father's ruin.
It was, of course, not reasonable to blame Anthea for this, but Jimmy
was scarcely in a mood just then to make any very nice distinction, and,
straightening himself a trifle, he stood still a moment looking at the
girl. He saw the little friendly smile fade out of her face and a look
of perplexity take its place, and then, while his heart thumped
furiously, he turned and stepped aside into a little trail that led into
the shadow of the bush. In another moment the team swept past, and he
was left uncomfortably conscious that he had made a fool of himself. The
feeling, while far from pleasant, is no doubt wholesome, which is
fortunate, since there are probably very few men who are not now and
then sensible of it.
It was half an hour later when Anthea came up with him again. The road
was narrow and crossed a little bridge near where he was standing. As it
happened, another lady was then driving a pair of ponies over it. Anthea
pulled up her team close behind Jimmy, and when the impatient horses
moved and drew the vehicle partly across the road, he turned and seized
the head of the nearest. He did not know much about horses, but he
contrived to back the team sufficiently to leave a passage, and was
unpleasantly sensible that Anthea was watching him with a little smile.
It brought a tinge of darker color to her face, and hurt him
considerably more than if she had shown resentment of his previous
attitude by any suggestion of distance. There is, after all, a certain
vague consolation in feeling that one is able to offend a person whose
good-will is valuable. Anthea perhaps realized this, for when the other
team had gone by she made a sign to him. Jimmy, who felt far from
comfortable, approached the vehicle, and the girl looked down at him,
with the twinkle still in her eyes.
"Thank you! That is permissible?" she said.
Jimmy flushed again. "In any case, I'm not sure it's exactly what I
deserve."
"Well," said Anthea reflectively, "I really was wondering whether you
saw us a little while ago."
"I did," said Jimmy, meeting her inquiring gaze. "Still, perhaps there
were excuses for me."
There was a scarcely perceptible change in Anthea's expression, but
Jimmy noticed it, though he did not know that she was thinking of what
his sister had told her. Next moment she smiled at him again.
"I scarcely think it would be worth while to make them," she said.
Then she shook the reins, and left him standing in the road. When they
were out of earshot her companion turned to her.
"Who is that young man?" she asked.
"Captain Wheelock of the _Shasta_."
"Ah!" said the other; "I remember hearing about him. The man who took
off the schooner's skipper? But what did he mean by saying that there
were excuses for his not seeing you?"
"I don't know," said Anthea, who contrived to smile, though she was
rather more thoughtful than usual. "I don't mind admitting that the
question has a certain interest. Still, one cannot always demand an
explanation."
Her companion flashed a keen glance at her. "Well," she said, "I almost
fancy it would have been a sufficient one if you had heard it. In fact,
I think I should like that man. After all, honesty is a quality that
wears well. But what is a man of his description doing in that very
little and somewhat dirty _Shasta_? I made somebody point her out to me
one day in Victoria."
"I don't know," said Anthea; "that is, I know why he went on board her
in the first case, but not why he seems content to stay there
altogether. Still, it naturally isn't a matter of any particular
consequence."
Then they spoke of other things, while Jimmy, who suddenly remembered
that he was standing vacantly in the road, turned toward the city,
wondering as Anthea had done why he had remained so long the _Shasta_'s
skipper. Now that the trade Jordan and his associates had inaugurated
had been well established in spite of Merril's opposition, he felt that
they had no longer any particular need of him.
The city was unusually hot when he reached it, but he fancied that alone
did not account for the crowded state of the saloons he passed. It also
seemed to him that the groups of men who stood here and there on the
sidewalks talking animatedly must have found some unusually interesting
topic; but he had his own affairs to think of, and, as they appeared
sufficient for him just then, he walked on quietly until he reached
Jordan's office. It was not elaborately furnished. In fact, there was
very little in it besides a table, a safe, a chair or two, and an
American stump-puller standing against one wall. Jordan sat reading a
newspaper, with a cigar, which had gone out, in his hand, but he looked
up and threw the paper on the table when Jimmy came in.
"Read that. They've struck it rich at last," he said. "Guess there are
men who have believed in that gold ever since we bought Alaska from the
Russians. Ran across one of them, 'most eight years ago, Commercial
Company man, and he told me it was a sure thing there was gold up the
Yukon. Odd prospectors had struck a pocket here and there, but though
they brought a few ounces out, nobody seemed inclined to take up the
thing. Practically every white man in that country was connected with
the Indian trade in furs, and I'm not sure they were anxious to see an
army of diggers marching in. Anyway, the few men who believed in the
gold couldn't put up the money to prove their confidence warranted. Now,
as you see, they've found it, and before long the whole Slope will be
humming from Wrangel to Lower California."
Jimmy read a column of the paper with almost breathless interest, as
many another man had done that day in every seaboard city and lonely
wooden settlement to which the news had spread. Then he looked at
Jordan.
"The thing appears almost incredible," he said.
"It isn't," said his companion. "I know what the Alaska Commercial
old-timer told me quite a while ago. It's going leagues ahead of
Caribou. They'll be going up in their thousands in a month or two. Now,
you sit still a minute, and listen to me. This is a thing I believe in,
and I'll tell you what I know."
He spoke for ten minutes with dark eyes snapping, and Jimmy's blood
tingled as he listened. Jordan's faith, the all-daring optimism of the
Pacific Slope of which many men have died in the wilderness, was
infectious, and something in Jimmy's nature responded. He had fought
with bitter gales and frothing seas, and it seemed to him that the
struggle with ice and frost, rock and snow, could not be harder. He was
also, though he had not quite realized it until that moment, one of
those who are born to play their part in the forefront of the battle
between man and nature--and nature is not beneficent, but very grim and
terrible until she is subdued, as everybody who has seen that strife
knows.
Then Jimmy stood up and slowly straightened himself, with a quiet smile.
"You'll have to get a new skipper for the _Shasta_--I'm going north," he
said.
Jordan gazed at him a moment in amazement, and then laughed in a fashion
which suggested that comprehension had dawned on him.
"Sit down again," he said. "I begin to understand how it is with you.
Still, you can't afford to do the thing you want to. It quite often
happens that way."
"I fancy that what I can't afford is to remain on board the _Shasta_,"
said Jimmy dryly.
"Sit down," said Jordan; "we'll talk out this thing. Now, why do you
want to go up there?"
Jimmy did as he was bidden, though there was a significant gleam in his
eyes. "Well," he said, "perhaps it's your due that I should tell you.
For one thing, because I feel that I must. I'm not sure you'll
understand me, but I feel it's what I was made for. There are
half-frozen swamps to be crossed, leagues of forest, canyons, melting
snow to be floundered through. That kind of thing gets hold of some of
us. I feel I have to go. Secondly, there seems to be gold up there. I
want the money."
Jordan noisily thrust back his chair, and then took up a pen and,
apparently without recognizing what he was doing, snapped it across.
"Stop right there! I can't stand too much--and there's Eleanor," he
said, and broke into a harsh laugh as he glanced down at the pen. "In
one way, it's significant that I've broken the--thing."
He said nothing for the next moment or two, and appeared to be putting a
restraint upon himself, but there was longing in his voice when he went
on again. "Lord! I guess it's in us. When we'd only the wagons and axes
we worried right across the continent. There was always something that
drew us to the place we didn't know. The harder the way was the more the
longing grew. I was up in the Selkirks on the gold-trail once, and I'm
never going to work something that life left behind right out of me."
"Come!" said Jimmy simply.
The veins rose swollen on Jordan's forehead, but he struck the table
with a clenched fist and gazed at his comrade with hot anger in his
eyes.
"Will you stop, you--fool?" he said. "Don't you know how I want to go?
Stop, or I'll throw you out right now!"
He sat still, looking at Jimmy for perhaps half a minute, and each was
conscious of the same longing in his heart and the same tingling of his
blood, for that is a country where men still feel the lust of the
primeval conflict and the allurements of the wilderness. Then Jordan
appeared to recover himself.
"I guess we'll be ashamed of this afterwards, but I have got to talk,"
he said. "Anyway, we can't all get right in with the axe and shovel. My
work's here, and I've just sense enough to stay with it. Besides, it's a
sure thing that everybody who goes north won't rake out money. Now, you
want the snow and the canyons? You can't have them; but I'll give you
drift-ice, blinding fog, reefs and breaking surf instead. You want
money? Well, we'll try to meet your views on that point, and by and by
we'll double what you're getting."
Jimmy gazed at him in evident bewilderment, and his comrade waved his
hand.
"You're going to take the first of the crowd to St. Michael's in the
_Shasta_, and the man who can run a 250-ton boat there and back again
will have all the excitement he has any use for. Half the reefs aren't
charted, the tides run any way, and when the gale drops, the fog shuts
down thicker than a blanket. You can't pound a rock-drill or swing the
shovel, but you can hold a steamer's wheel. Get hold of that, and try to
understand it. It's the whole point of the thing."
He stopped a moment as if for breath, and then went on again, hurling
out his words incisively while his eyes snapped.
"It's St. Michaels now, but by and by they'll find a way in from the
Pan-handle or over British soil. The C.P.R. will put big boats on, and
they'll run everything that will float up from 'Frisco and Portland; but
we'll be in first and take hold with the _Shasta_. The men you're going
to carry would go in a canoe. She has built up the coast trade enough to
make it easy for us to raise the money to buy another boat--I'm hanging
right on to that trade too--and I know of a handy steamer. I'll get an
option on her now. She'll be worth considerably more in a week or two.
You stand by the _Shasta_ Company, and do your part in the rush that's
coming in the way you know, and you'll rake in more money than you ever
would mining. We'll put a thousand-ton boat on before long if you play
our hand well. I want your answer right off: are you hanging on to us?"
"Yes," said Jimmy quietly. "After all, your point of view is no doubt
the right one. If the boat were only fifty tons I'd start as soon as she
was ready."
Jordan rose and grabbed his hat before he flung a letter across the
table. "Then I'm going for old Leeson now. Hustle, and wire those people
that we want an option on that steamboat firm until to-morrow."
He strode out of the office, and when Jimmy reached the street a minute
later he saw him running hard in the direction of Leeson's house.