It was nearly two in the afternoon when they cleared the crest of the divide and began dropping down a feeder of Squaw Creek.Earlier in the winter some moose-hunter had made a trail up the canyon--that is, in going up and down he had stepped always in his previous tracks.As a result, in the midst of soft snow, and veiled under later snow falls, was a line of irregular hummocks.If one's foot missed a hummock, he plunged down through unpacked snow and usually to a fall.Also, the moose- hunter had been an exceptionally long- legged individual.Joy, who was eager now that the two men should stake, and fearing that they were slackening pace on account of her evident weariness, insisted on taking the lead.The speed and manner in which she negotiated the precarious footing, called out Shorty's unqualified approval.
"Look at her!" he cried."She's the real goods an' the red meat.Look at them moccasins swing along.No high-heels there.She uses the legs God gave her.She's the right squaw for any bear-hunter."She flashed back a smile of acknowledgment that included Smoke.He caught a feeling of chumminess, though at the same time he was bitingly aware that it was very much of a woman who embraced him in that comradely smile.
Looking back, as they came to the bank of Squaw Creek, they could see the stampede, strung out irregularly, struggling along the descent of the divide.
They slipped down the bank to the creek bed.The stream, frozen solidly to bottom, was from twenty to thirty feet wide and ran between six- and eight-foot earth banks of alluvial wash.No recent feet had disturbed the snow that lay upon its ice, and they knew they were above the Discovery claim and the last stakes of the Sea Lion stampeders.
"Look out for springs," Joy warned, as Smoke led the way down the creek."At seventy below you'll lose your feet if you break through."These springs, common to most Klondike streams, never ceased at the lowest temperatures.The water flowed out from the banks and lay inpools which were cuddled from the cold by later surface-freezings and snow falls.Thus, a man, stepping on dry snow, might break through half an inch of ice-skin and find himself up to the knees in water.In five minutes, unless able to remove the wet gear, the loss of one's foot was the penalty.
Though only three in the afternoon, the long grey twilight of the Arctic had settled down.They watched for a blazed tree on either bank, which would show the centre-stake of the last claim located.Joy, impulsively eager, was the first to find it.She darted ahead of Smoke, crying: "Somebody's been here! See the snow! Look for the blaze! There it is! See that spruce!"She sank suddenly to her waist in the snow.
"Now I've done it," she said woefully.Then she cried: "Don't come near me!I'll wade out."Step by step, each time breaking through the thin skin of ice concealed under the dry snow, she forced her way to solid footing.Smoke did not wait, but sprang to the bank, where dry and seasoned twigs and sticks, lodged amongst the brush by spring freshets, waited the match.By the time she reached his side, the first flames and flickers of an assured fire were rising.
"Sit down!" he commanded.
She obediently sat down in the snow.He slipped his pack from his back, and spread a blanket for her feet.
From above came the voices of the stampeders who followed them."Let Shorty stake," she urged"Go on, Shorty," Smoke said, as he attacked her moccasins, already stiff with ice."Pace off a thousand feet and place the two centre- stakes.We can fix the corner-stakes afterwards."With his knife Smoke cut away the lacings and leather of the moccasins.So stiff were they with ice that they snapped and crackled under the hacking and sawing.The Siwash socks and heavy woollen stockings were sheaths of ice.It was as if her feet and calves were encased in corrugated iron.
"How are your feet?" he asked, as he worked.
"Pretty numb.I can't move nor feel my toes.But it will be all right.The fire is burning beautifully.Watch out you don't freeze your own hands.They must be numb now from the way you're fumbling."He slipped his mittens on, and for nearly a minute smashed the open hands savagely against his sides.When he felt the blood-prickles, he pulled off the mittens and ripped and tore and sawed and hacked at the frozen garments.The white skin of one foot appeared, then that of the other, to be exposed to the bite of seventy below zero, which is the equivalent of one hundred and two below freezing.
Then came the rubbing with snow, carried on with an intensity of cruel fierceness, till she squirmed and shrank and moved her toes, and joyously complained of the hurt.
He half-dragged her, and she half-lifted herself, nearer to the fire.He placed her feet on the blanket close to the flesh-saving flames.
"You'll have to take care of them for a while," he said.
She could now safely remove her mittens and manipulate her own feet, with the wisdom of the initiated, being watchful that the heat of the fire was absorbed slowly.While she did this, he attacked his hands.The snow did not melt nor moisten.Its light crystals were like so much sand.Slowly the stings and pangs of circulation came back into the chilled flesh.Then he tended the fire, unstrapped the light pack from her back, and got out a complete change of foot- gear.
Shorty returned along the creek-bed and climbed the bank to them.
"I sure staked a full thousan' feet," he proclaimed."Number twenty- seven and number twenty-eight, though I'd only got the upper stake of twenty-seven, when I met the first geezer of the bunch behind.He just straight declared I wasn't goin' to stake twenty- eight.An' I told him....""Yes, yes," Joy cried."What did you tell him?""Well, I told him straight that if he didn't back up plum five hundred feet I'd sure punch his frozen nose into ice-cream an' chocolate eclaires.He backed up, an' I've got in the centre-stakes of two full an' honest five- hundred-foot claims.He staked next, and I guess by now the bunch has Squaw Creek located to head-waters an' down the other side.Ourn issafe.It's too dark to see now, but we can put out the corner-stakes in the mornin'."
