battle against the overwhelming legions of Nature. He had
survived, all unprepared and without experience. It was a struggle
such as none of those who came later were called upon to endure. For
all that has been told of the sufferings of the Yukon rush they were
incomparable with those which John Kars had been called upon to endure
at an age when the terror of it all might well have overwhelmed him.

But he had done more than survive. Good fortune and sanity had been
his greatest assets. The first seemed to have been his all through.
Sanity only came to him at the cost of other men's experience. For all
his hardihood he was deeply human. The early temptations of Leaping
Horse had appealed to the virile youth in him. He had had his falls.
But there was something in the blood of the youth which quickly
convinced him of the folly of the life about him. So he, to use his
own expression, "quit the poultry ranch" and "hit the bank roll trail,"
and good fortune followed hard behind him like a faithful spouse.

He became rich. His wealth became a byword. And later, when, out of
disorder and vice, the city of Leaping Horse grew to capital
importance, he became surfeited with the accumulations of wealth which
rolled in upon him from his manifold interests.

Then it was that the man which the Yukon world now knew suddenly
developed. He could have retired to the pleasant avenues of
civilization. He could have entered public life in any of the great
capitals of the world. But these things had no appeal for him.

The battle of the trail had left a fever in his blood. He was smitten
with the disease of Ishmael. Then, before all, and above all, he
counted the northland his home. So, when everything the world could
yield him lay at his feet, the drear, silent north trail only knew him.
His interests in the golden world of Leaping Horse were left behind
him, while he satisfied his passion in the far hidden back countries
where man is a mere incident in the world's unbroken silences.

Oh, yes, his quest was gold, frankly gold. But not in relation to
values. He sought gold for the joy of search, to provide excuse. He
sought gold for the romance of it, he sought it because adventure lay
in the track of virgin gold as it lies nowhere else. Besides, the
battle of it suited the man's hardihood.

Once, to his philosopher friend, Dr. Bill Brudenell of Leaping Horse,
he said, "Life's just a shanty most every feller start