ith
stress and strain to every step of the way, we moved our bulky outfit
forward from camp to camp. All days were hard, all exasperating, all
crammed with discomfort; yet, bit by bit, we forged ahead. The army
before us and the army behind never faltered. Like a stream of black
ants they were, between mountains that reared up swiftly to
storm-smitten palisades of ice. In the darkness of night the army
rested uneasily, yet at the first streak of dawn it was in motion. It
was an endless procession, in which every man was for himself. I can see
them now, bent under their burdens, straining at their hand-sleighs,
flogging their horses and oxen, their faces crimped and puckered with
fatigue, the air acrid with their curses and heavy with their moans. Now
a horse stumbles and slips into one of the sump-holes by the trail side.
No one can pass, the army is arrested. Frenzied fingers unhitch the poor
frozen brute and drag it from the water. Men, frantic with rage, beat
savagely at their beasts of burden to make up the precious time lost.
There is no mercy, no humanity, no fellowship. All is blasphemy, fury
and ruthless determination. It is the spirit of the gold-trail.

At the canyon head was a large camp, and there, very much in evidence,
the gambling fraternity. Dozens of them with their little green tables
were doing a roaring business. On one side of the canyon they had
established a camp. It was evening and we three, the Prodigal, Salvation
Jim and myself, strolled over to where a three-shell man was holding
forth.

"Hullo!" says the Prodigal. "It's our old friend Jake. Jake skinned me
out of a hundred on the boat. Wonder how he's making out?"

It was Mosher, with his bald head, his crafty little eyes, his flat
nose, his black beard. I saw Jim's face harden. He had always shown a
bitter hatred of this man, and often I wondered why.

We stood a little way off. The crowd thinned and filtered away until
but one remained, one of the tall young men from Minnesota. We heard
Mosher's rich voice.

"Say, pard, bet ten dollars you can't place the bean. See! I put the
little joker under here, right before your eyes. Now, where is it?"

"Here," said the man, touching one of the shells.

"Right you are, my hearty! Well, here's your ten."

The man from Minnesota took the money and was going away.

"Hold on," said Mosher; "how do I know you had the money to cover that
bet?"

The man laughed and took from his pocket a wad of