of their temperament, to have cut the Gordian knot of the
difficulty by risking themselves on this unprecedented quest for peace
and food. Gold, too? Oh, yes--with a smile to see how far that main
object had drifted into the background--they added, "and for gold."

They believed they had hearkened well to the counsel that bade them
"travel light." "Remember, every added ounce is against you." "Nobody
in the North owns anything that's heavy," had been said in one fashion
or another so often that it lost its ironic sound in the ears of men
who had come so far to carry away one of the heaviest things under the
sun.

The Colonel and the Boy took no tent, no stove, not even a miner's pick
and pan. These last, General Lighter had said, could be obtained at
Minook; and "there isn't a cabin on the trail," Dillon had added,
"without 'em."

For the rest, the carefully-selected pack on the sled contained the
marmot-skin, woollen blankets, a change of flannels apiece, a couple of
sweaters, a Norfolk jacket, and several changes of foot-gear. This last
item was dwelt on earnestly by all. "Keep your feet dry," John Dillon
had said, "and leave the rest to God Almighty." They were taking barely
two weeks' rations, and a certain amount of stuff to trade with the
up-river Indians, when their supplies should be gone. They carried a
kettle, an axe, some quinine, a box of the carbolic ointment all miners
use for foot-soreness, O'Flynn's whisky, and two rifles and ammunition.
In spite of having eliminated many things that most travellers would
count essential, they found their load came to a little over two
hundred pounds. But every day would lessen it, they told each other
with a laugh, and with an inward misgiving, lest the lightening should
come all too quickly.

They had seen in camp that winter so much of the frailty of human
temper that, although full of faith by now in each other's native sense
and fairness, they left nothing to a haphazard division of labour. They
parcelled out the work of the day with absolute impartiality. To each
man so many hours of going ahead to break trail, if the snow was soft,
while the other dragged the sled; or else while one pulled in front,
the other pushed from behind, in regular shifts by the watch, turn and
turn about. The Colonel had cooked all winter, so it was the Boy's turn
at that--the Colonel's to decide the best place to camp, because it was
his affair to find seasoned wood for fuel, his to