suddenly and treacherously, and butchered every one of my comrades.
For some reason they spared my life and held me a prisoner."

The old man paused a moment, breathing heavily. "After a month of
captivity, during which my sufferings were terrible, I managed to
escape," he went on, in a weaker voice. "I could not return through
Alaska, so I headed to the southeast through the Hudson Bay Company's
territory. I had musket and powder and ball--which I recovered from the
Indians--and I built myself a rude sledge. This was thirteen months ago
and since then I have been on the way. Ay, I have plodded more than
fifteen hundred miles, through all seasons, over rivers, mountains, and
plains. And to what end? To fill a grave in the wilderness! I had hoped
to reach civilization, but the task was too great."

Such was Hiram Buckhorn's narrative, and when it was finished we looked
silently at him with awe and amazement, with the deepest pity. His
exploit had far surpassed anything in the annals of the pioneers of the
Northwest. Fifteen hundred miles, on foot and alone, through an
untrodden wilderness that even the Hudson Bay Company had never dreamed
of tapping! It bore the stamp of truth, and yet it was so incredible a
thing that we wavered between doubt and belief.

He noted this, and a grim smile flitted across his face.

"You shall see!" he whispered. "Reach under my head! Be quick!"

I gently thrust a hand beneath the pillow of skins, and drew out a small
but heavy bag fashioned of rawhide. At his bidding I placed it beside
the old man. With a hard effort, he loosed the mouth and turned the big
upside down. Out fell on the fold of a blanket a mass of golden nuggets
of the purest quality. There were not less than fifty, of large size,
and they gleamed dull yellow in the rays of the fire. The sight almost
took our breath, and we gazed with greedy, wondering eyes.

"Look! I spoke the truth," said Hiram Buckhorn. "There is the evidence!
Millions like them are to be dug in the region of the Klondike! But put
them back--their glitter is no longer for me!"

I hurriedly gathered the nuggets into the bag and thrust it deep under
the skins again. The old man watched every movement and heaved a faint
sigh.

"The gold is yours, my friend," he muttered. "Take it and divide it when
you have put me beneath the snow. And one other favor I crave. Send word
at the first opportunity to San Francisco, of the fate of those who
sailed with m