IMMORTALS OF THE TRAIL
The brief summer was over. The flowers that had blossomed so freely and
so brightly under fair skies and in ceaseless sunshine were gone; and in
the air was the chill of the early Arctic winter.
The Woman shivered slightly in spite of her furs. There was excitement
in the air.
Beside her, erect and soldierly, walked Captain Rene' Haas of the French
Army, with a firm elastic tread that spoke of many marches.
He was talking earnestly with an enthusiasm that lighted up his keen
dark eyes as with an inner fire.
"You see, there were many places last winter on the battle-front where
horses, mules or motors could not be used; for the snow was too soft and
deep, and the crust too thin. Many places where they needed just such a
method of transportation as we of the North know so well,--dogs. I
tried," modestly, "to show them a little of all that could be done, with
a few that I trained casually. But I spoke much of the marvelous dogs of
Alaska that I have learned to know and love so well in the past few
years; of their intelligence, their endurance, and their almost
incredible speed in the big races. My Government listened; and so I was
sent to take back with me the pick of the whole North, though there will
be many more from parts of Canada and Labrador."
"But not like ours of Nome," proudly replied the Woman.
"No, not like yours of Nome. That is why I am here. A hundred or more
trained by Allan and other racing men will be worth a thousand ordinary
recruits. Since he received my cable message telling my plans, 'Scotty'
has assembled a splendid lot of team dogs for me, with a full equipment
of sleds and harness; and even the dog salmon for the 'Commissary
Department.'
"There is indeed but little left for me to do, as the outfit will be
perfect now, with a few more experienced leaders."
"And you think," questioned the Woman with lips that quivered and eyes
that were dim, "that they will be treated well, that--" Her voice was
unsteady and she hesitated.
The young Captain seemed to divine all the unspoken fears.
"There is very little danger in the work," he assured her readily. "They
will probably be used entirely in courier and carrier service in the
passes of the French Alps.
"I belong to an Alpine Corps myself, and they will be under my direct
supervision, so far as possible. Really," with honest conviction, "they
will be far better off than if you sold them to freighters or
prospectors for a life of toil, possibly of neglect even. All soldiers,
irrespective of nationality, are good to the animals in their charge."
"I suppose it's true," sighed the Woman, "that we cannot go on
accumulating dogs indefinitely; that some of them must be sold from time
to time. And I, too, would rather see them go like this than to feel
they might suffer worse hardships and abuses on the Trail."
"Scotty" met them at the door of the Kennel. "Come in, and we'll all go
over the place together. It will not take long now to make up the rest
of the required number," and he skimmed quickly over the paper in his
hand.
Matt, hovering near, doing unnecessary things for the dogs, was plainly
much disturbed. George and Dan, full of a war atmosphere produced by the
French officer, and a kennel and corral guarded night and day, conversed
eagerly of the important affairs that were happening about them; while
Ben, listening apparently to their serious discussions of the European
situation, as likely to be affected by this purchase, was in reality
beset with a dread that drove all else from his mind.
"It's going to be a hard choice," the Woman mused as she glanced down
the long line of stalls on either side, and one end, of the roomy
stable.
"Scotty" paused before the Mego dogs that had fought so valiantly for
first honors in the Juvenile Race.
[Illustration: CAPTAIN HAAS OF THE FRENCH ARMY, AND HIS ALASKAN SLEDGES]
"Excellent," observed Captain Haas, as he looked them over carefully.
"Strong, intelligent, fleet," and "Scotty" wrote the names of Judge,
Jimmie and Pete.
"I knew I was a pretty good judge o' dogs," announced Dan with pleased
conviction; "but there's some class t' bein' a judge backed up by the
French Government," and he regarded his former team with mingled
feelings of regret and satisfaction.
On they went, adding name after name to the fast growing list.
"Not Tom, Dick and Harry," the Woman exclaimed as they came to the
Tolmans. "These Veterans have served us too long and too loyally." And
"Scotty" nodded silently.
"Irish and Rover?"
But before the question could be answered, the gentle Irish Setters
gazed into her eyes beseechingly, and nosed her sleeve, confident of a
caress.
"Impossible," she murmured hastily; "they are our dear comrades. And
Spot," with an emphatic shake of the head, "belongs to George."
Finally they paused at the last two stalls and looked from Jack
McMillan to Baldy. McMillan tugged violently at his chain, striving to
reach the Woman; while Baldy, as though he understood it all, crept
close to "Scotty's" side.
Captain Haas knew both of the dogs well. He had seen Jack turned from a
career of rebellion and unrest to one of willing patient service; and
Baldy, plodding, obscure, hard working Baldy, become the boast of the
whole North.
"Here are the two," admiringly, "that please me most of all. McMillan's
strength is superb--Baldy's endurance unparalleled. What War Dogs they
would make! One I must have; it matters little which. The price--" he
gave an eloquent gesture of complete indifference.
The Woman stroked Jack's sable muzzle gently. She thought of the old
days when his name was once a symbol of all that was fierce and
wolf-like and wicked in the annals of Nome; and then of his unbroken
spirit and steadfast allegiance to her. "McMillan of the Broken Tusks,"
she said softly, "has no price."
Then, eagerly, "Baldy?"
"I cannot give Baldy up," was the firm reply. "He has led the team in
three great victories; and he did not desert me when I lay freezing and
helpless, alone in the snow." "Scotty's" hand rested lovingly on the
ugly dark head pressed so tightly, so trustfully against him. "He's a
wonderful leader and my faithful friend."
"I understand," the Captain said, and turned away. "The list is now
complete."
And in the dusk of the Kennel, as once on the Golconda Trail, the boy's
wet cheek was laid tenderly against the dog's rough coat; but the tears
that fell now were tears of joy. "Oh, Baldy," he whispered happily,
"some day you'll be with me Outside. We'll do things there some day."
[Illustration: BALDY OF NOME]
Then came the day, filled with excitement and thrills, when on a
tow-line three hundred and fifty feet long, one hundred and six famous
dogs passed through the streets of the far-away Arctic town, on their
way to the battle-fields of France.
At their head was Spot, with George Allan trudging proudly by his side.
"I'll lend you Spot to get them down to the dock," was his offer to
Captain Haas. "You know he is fine in a crowd," and the officer
smilingly accepted the services of Spot.
And crowds there were, too, to go through; for as on the Sweepstakes
Days all of Nome had gathered to bid a final God Speed to the greatest
dogs of Alaska--a Foreign Legion indeed--bound for the front.
With no confusion, under the direction of Captain Haas and "Scotty"
Allan, who was to go with them as far as Quebec, they had been placed on
board the "Senator" lying out in the roadstead.
A silent little group stood on the dreary beach watching the twinkling
lights of the distant ship as she sailed, phantom-like, out into the
misty grayness of Bering Sea.
Only the dull pounding of the surf and the weird cry of the wolf dogs
broke the stillness.
At last the Woman turned from the Big Man at her side toward the boy and
Moose Jones.
"Some time, perhaps," she said half sadly, yet with pride, "the Captain
may have great tales for us of the War Dogs of the North. But never,
never, Ben, will there be greater tales than we can tell of the Old
Guard, Baldy of Nome and the others--our Immortals of the Trail."
[Illustration]