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| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-05 00:35:57 -0800 |
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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-05 00:35:57 -0800 |
| commit | 707cc4b293ecb8957f7f6d26ce22e609f50535f4 (patch) | |
| tree | a02440d07adb535d526a4455efff184e434f24b6 /50320-h | |
| parent | e9ae8a479d19ab38850525cecfadb5213d2a13b2 (diff) | |
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-<pre>
-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Secret Mission to Alaska, by Roger Barlow
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: Secret Mission to Alaska
- Sandy Steele Adventures #5
-
-Author: Roger Barlow
-
-Release Date: October 26, 2015 [EBook #50320]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SECRET MISSION TO ALASKA ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan, and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
-
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
-<div class="img">
-<img id="coverpage" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Secret Mission to Alaska" width="500" height="776" />
-</div>
-<p class="center">SANDY STEELE ADVENTURES</p>
-<p class="center"><span class="sc">Black Treasure</span>
-<br /><span class="sc">Danger at Mormon Crossing</span>
-<br /><span class="sc">Stormy Voyage</span>
-<br /><span class="sc">Fire at Red Lake</span>
-<br /><span class="sc">Secret Mission to Alaska</span>
-<br /><span class="sc">Troubled Waters</span></p>
-<div class="box">
-<h1>Sandy Steele Adventures<br />
-<br /><i>SECRET MISSION
-<br />TO
-<br />ALASKA</i></h1>
-<p class="tbcenter">BY ROGER BARLOW</p>
-<p class="tbcenter"><span class="small">SIMON AND SCHUSTER</span>
-<br /><i>New York, 1959</i></p>
-</div>
-<p class="csmaller">ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
-<br />INCLUDING THE RIGHT OF REPRODUCTION
-<br />IN WHOLE OR IN PART IN ANY FORM
-<br />COPYRIGHT © 1959 BY SIMON AND SCHUSTER, INC.
-<br />PUBLISHED BY SIMON AND SCHUSTER, INC.
-<br />ROCKEFELLER CENTER, 630 FIFTH AVENUE
-<br />NEW YORK 20, N. Y.</p>
-<p class="csmaller">FIRST PRINTING</p>
-<p class="csmaller">LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOG CARD NUMBER: 59-13882
-<br />MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
-<br />BY H. WOLFF BOOK MFG. CO., INC., NEW YORK</p>
-<h2 class="toc">CONTENTS</h2>
-<dl class="toc">
-<dt class="jr"><span class="jl"><span class="small">CHAPTER</span></span> <span class="small">PAGE</span></dt>
-<dt><span class="cn">1 </span><a href="#c1">Off to Alaska</a> 9</dt>
-<dt><span class="cn">2 </span><a href="#c2">A Hint of Trouble</a> 14</dt>
-<dt><span class="cn">3 </span><a href="#c3">A Mysterious Intruder</a> 26</dt>
-<dt><span class="cn">4 </span><a href="#c4">Charley Works Out the Huskies</a> 37</dt>
-<dt><span class="cn">5 </span><a href="#c5">Christmas in the Wilderness</a> 49</dt>
-<dt><span class="cn">6 </span><a href="#c6">Attack from the Air</a> 59</dt>
-<dt><span class="cn">7 </span><a href="#c7">The Big Race</a> 66</dt>
-<dt><span class="cn">8 </span><a href="#c8">Lost in a Blizzard</a> 80</dt>
-<dt><span class="cn">9 </span><a href="#c9">Trapped in an Icy Tomb</a> 98</dt>
-<dt><span class="cn">10 </span><a href="#c10">Down the Chilkoot Chute to Victory</a> 109</dt>
-<dt><span class="cn">11 </span><a href="#c11">Off to Hunt Kodiak Bears</a> 121</dt>
-<dt><span class="cn">12 </span><a href="#c12">Treed by a Wounded Bear</a> 135</dt>
-<dt><span class="cn">13 </span><a href="#c13">The Ghost Mine</a> 156</dt>
-<dt><span class="cn">14 </span><a href="#c14">The Plot Revealed</a> 167</dt>
-<dt><span class="cn">15 </span><a href="#c15">Final Victory</a> 185</dt>
-</dl>
-<div class="img" id="pic1">
-<img src="images/pic1.jpg" alt="Secret Mission to Alaska" width="600" height="851" />
-</div>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_9">9</div>
-<h2 id="c1"><span class="small">CHAPTER ONE</span>
-<br />Off to Alaska</h2>
-<p>Sandy Steele twisted his lanky six-foot frame in
-the cramped airplane seat, stretching his long legs
-out in the aisle. Yawning, he glanced out of the
-small, round window beside him. Although it was
-daylight now, the ground was completely hidden
-by a layer of dense clouds that stretched away to
-the horizon on all sides like fluffy marshmallow
-topping. The sound of the motors was a dull, monotonous
-throbbing in his ears.</p>
-<p>Sandy leaned forward and ruffled the black
-crew cut that was just visible over the top of the
-seat ahead of him. “Hey, Jerry, you awake?”</p>
-<p>“Yeah,” a voice mumbled sleepily, “I’m awake.
-Are we going to land yet?”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_10">10</div>
-<p>“I don’t know.” Sandy looked across the aisle
-at his father, who was just lighting his pipe. “How
-about it, Dad?”</p>
-<p>Dr. John Steele studied his watch thoughtfully.
-“Oh, I’d say about another half hour.”</p>
-<p>The steward, an army corporal, walked back
-from the forward compartment with a tray of
-paper cups. “Coffee, anyone?”</p>
-<p>The steaming-hot black liquid cleared the cobwebs
-out of Sandy’s head, and he began to look
-forward with excited anticipation to their arrival
-in Canada.</p>
-<p>“Will Professor Crowell meet us at the airport?”
-he asked his father.</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele nodded. “Yes. Then we’ll drive back
-to his place and pick up his dog team.”</p>
-<p>Jerry James’s granite-jawed face appeared over
-the back of the seat as he knelt, facing Sandy.
-“What’s this about dogs?”</p>
-<p>“Berkley Crowell breeds sled dogs as a hobby,”
-Dr. Steele explained. “Eskimo huskies. He’s taking
-his prize team up to Alaska to compete in the annual
-race from Whitehorse to Skagway.”</p>
-<p>“Hey, that sounds like fun,” Jerry said.</p>
-<p>“As a matter of fact,” the doctor went on, “that
-will be one of your major jobs on this expedition.
-You boys will drive the truck with the dogs and
-help the professor with their care and feeding.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_11">11</div>
-<p>Dr. Steele turned his attention back to his book
-as Sandy and Jerry got into a conversation with
-the young corporal who had served the coffee.</p>
-<p>“Both you fellows from California?” the corporal
-asked. “Whereabouts?”</p>
-<p>“Valley View,” Sandy told him. “That’s near
-San Diego, but more inland.”</p>
-<p>“I have a cousin in the Navy,” the corporal said.
-“He was stationed at San Diego. Nice country.”
-He grinned. “You guys are going to find the climate
-of Alaska a lot different than California.”</p>
-<p>Jerry shivered. “You’re telling us!”</p>
-<p>“You go to school in Valley View?” the corporal
-asked.</p>
-<p>“High school,” Sandy told him. “We’re both
-juniors.”</p>
-<p>“How long are you going to be in Alaska?”</p>
-<p>“About three weeks, I guess. It’s the Christmas
-vacation, and my dad got our principal to let us
-take an extra week on account of the educational
-value of this expedition we’re going on.”</p>
-<p>The corporal looked interested. “What kind of
-an expedition is it?”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_12">12</div>
-<p>“My dad is a United States government geologist,”
-Sandy explained. “This expedition is part
-of a long-range Canadian-American project to
-chart glacial movements during the Ice Age. We’ll
-be collecting soil, rock and ore samples on our
-way through western Canada and Alaska.”</p>
-<p>“Sounds like fun,” the corporal said. “You’ll
-get a kick out of Alaska. It’s a great place. I’ve
-flown up there a couple of times.”</p>
-<p>“What’s our forty-ninth state like, anyway?”
-Jerry asked curiously. “We bought it from the Indians
-for twenty-four dollars, didn’t we?”</p>
-<p>Sandy and the corporal laughed. “That was
-Manhattan Island, you dope!” Sandy said. “We
-bought Alaska from the Russians for about
-$7,000,000.”</p>
-<p>“It’s twice as big as Texas,” the corporal told
-them, “but the population is only a little over
-200,000. And most of these people have only been
-there since the end of World War Two.”</p>
-<p>“I guess we never would have realized just how
-valuable Alaska is if the Japanese hadn’t tried to
-attack us across the Aleutian Islands,” Sandy said.</p>
-<p>At that moment, a buzzer sounded and the
-green light at the front of the cabin began to
-flash. “Oh-oh,” the corporal said. “Looks like
-we’re getting ready to land. Fasten your seat belts,
-folks.” He turned and hurried forward.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_13">13</div>
-<p>Dr. Steele stood up and removed his mackinaw
-from the overhead rack. As he did so, a big, black,
-ominous-looking .45 Colt automatic slipped out of
-one of the pockets and crashed to the floor.</p>
-<p>The boys’ eyes widened and Sandy blurted out
-in shocked surprise, “Where did you get that,
-Dad?”</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele retrieved the gun hastily and stuck
-it back into his pocket. “Oh—er—something a
-friend advised me to bring with me. In case we
-get a chance to do any hunting,” he added.</p>
-<p>Sandy frowned. “Hunting with an <i>automatic</i>!
-That’s crazy, Dad. Wouldn’t a rifle have been
-more practical?”</p>
-<p>A thin smile spread the doctor’s lips. “I suppose
-you’re right. I should have consulted you before
-I got it.”</p>
-<p>“Just where <i>did</i> you get it, Dad?” Sandy asked
-suspiciously. “The Colt .45 automatic is an official
-U.S. Army sidearm.”</p>
-<p>There was just the faintest trace of irritation in
-Dr. Steele’s voice when he answered. “All these
-questions! You’re beginning to sound like your
-Aunt Vivian.... Look, we had better fasten our
-safety belts. We’re going to land.”</p>
-<p>“Sure, Dad, sure,” Sandy said. There was something
-uncommonly mysterious about his father’s
-behavior, and it worried him.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_14">14</div>
-<h2 id="c2"><span class="small">CHAPTER TWO</span>
-<br />A Hint of Trouble</h2>
-<p>The big U.S. army transport touched down at
-the R.C.A.F. military airstrip at Fort St. John,
-British Columbia, shortly after dawn on December
-23. Dr. Steele and his party were groggy after
-spending a restless night of fitful slumber on the
-hard, uncomfortable canvas seats that were slung
-along the walls of the plane’s huge, drafty cabin.
-But the first bite of the dry-ice bitter air of the
-Canadian winter snapped them wide-awake and
-alert.</p>
-<p>“Wow!” Jerry exclaimed, bundled up like a
-bear in his hooded parka. “It must be at least one
-thousand degrees below zero.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_15">15</div>
-<p>Dr. Steele smiled. “You think this is cold? Just
-wait until we get farther up north.”</p>
-<p>Lou Mayer, Dr. Steele’s assistant, groaned.
-“When does the next plane leave for California?”
-He broke into a fit of uncontrollable shudders. A
-dark, mild-mannered young man in his late
-twenties, Lou had been born in Texas and spent
-half of his life in Southern California. He consequently
-had little tolerance for the cold.</p>
-<p>Sandy grinned superciliously. “You guys should
-have been smart like me. I wore my long red
-flannels.”</p>
-<p>“That’s a good point,” Dr. Steele said. “In this
-country, proper clothing is essential to survival.
-It’s as vital as sufficient food and drink. You must
-start conditioning yourselves to think about it.”</p>
-<p>Abruptly, they all became aware that Jerry was
-staring with hypnotic fixity toward the edge of the
-landing field.</p>
-<p>“Hey!” Sandy asked. “What gives with you?
-What are you looking at?”</p>
-<p>Jerry’s eyes were glazed. Dumbly he raised one
-arm and pointed at the mountains of snow banked
-at the sides of the field. Finally he managed to
-mumble, “Snow. That’s snow?”</p>
-<p>“Of course it is. You act as if you never saw it
-before.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_16">16</div>
-<p>Jerry nodded, wide-eyed. “I never did.”</p>
-<p>Sandy and the two men broke out laughing.
-“Well, this is an occasion,” Dr. Steele said. “I
-promise you you will have your fill of it before
-we’re through with this trip.”</p>
-<p>Jerry was flabbergasted. “I’ve seen pictures of it,
-but I just never realized there could be so much
-of it in one place. Man! That one drift must be
-twenty feet high. Can you imagine waking up
-some morning in Valley View and finding that in
-your front yard, Sandy?”</p>
-<p>“Well, I haven’t seen too much of it,” Sandy
-admitted. “But I’ve been up to the Northwest
-with Dad a few times.”</p>
-<p>At that moment a jeep screeched to a stop
-nearby, its exhaust spewing out smoke like a
-chimney. The corporal at the wheel leaned out
-and yelled to them. “Dr. Steele here?” After the
-geologist identified himself, the corporal told them
-to pile into the jeep. “There’s a gent waiting for
-you at headquarters. A detail will be right out to
-unload your baggage.”</p>
-<p>“How do you keep these runways free of ice?”
-Dr. Steele shouted to the driver above the loud,
-rowdy roar of the little jeep motor.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_17">17</div>
-<p>“Sweep ’em with giant vacuum cleaners regularly,”
-the corporal replied. “When it gets really
-rough we melt the ice with flame throwers.”</p>
-<p class="tb">Professor Berkley Crowell was waiting for them
-close by the glowing steel-drum coal stove that
-reinforced the electric heaters in the big quonset-hut
-headquarters. “You can’t beat the old-fashioned
-way,” he said with a smile, toasting his fingers
-in the shimmering heat waves that radiated
-from the top of the steel drum.</p>
-<p>The professor was a slight, stooped, very British-looking
-man in his middle fifties. He had a thin
-weatherbeaten face, a sharp nose and a close-cropped
-mustache. His deep-set blue eyes were
-warm and full of good humor.</p>
-<p>“Well,” he said, upon being introduced to
-Sandy and Jerry, “I understand that you boys will
-be helping me with my dog team.”</p>
-<p>“We’ll do the best we can, sir,” Sandy told him.</p>
-<p>“They won’t give you too much trouble,” the
-professor said. “Titan—that’s my lead dog—he
-practically runs the whole show himself. Possesses
-human intelligence, that animal.”</p>
-<p>“When do we get to see them?” Jerry asked.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_18">18</div>
-<p>“As soon as we get back to my ranch. I’m situated
-about ten miles down the Alaska Highway,
-toward Dawson Creek. That’s the southern terminus
-of the highway.”</p>
-<p>When they had finished the steaming mugs of
-hot coffee served up by the flying officers’ mess,
-Professor Crowell and his party climbed aboard
-the big station wagon parked in the drive and
-drove away from the air base.</p>
-<p>The Alaska Highway was a broad, smooth,
-gravel-topped road hewed through some of the
-thickest forests and most rugged terrain on the
-North American continent. Now the gravel was
-topped by a thick crust of snow.</p>
-<p>“A miracle of our century,” Professor Crowell
-explained as they drove. “Built in just eight
-months by your amazing U.S. Army engineers in
-1943, when the Japanese forces were threatening
-the Aleutian Island chain. It was a lifesaving
-artery to Alaska and a vital chain to our western
-air bases. Sixteen hundred and seventy-one miles.
-Just imagine!”</p>
-<p>An auto filled with shouting children whizzed
-past them, traveling in the opposite direction. It
-was weighted down with valises and bundles
-strapped to the roof and fenders.</p>
-<p>“Where are they going?” Jerry inquired.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_19">19</div>
-<p>“Pioneer settlers for your glorious forty-ninth
-state,” Professor Crowell answered. “There’s a
-steady stream of them. Did you know that the
-population of Alaska has tripled since World War
-Two?”</p>
-<p>“It sort of gives you goose pimples,” Sandy said.
-“It’s almost as if you turned back the clock a
-hundred years.”</p>
-<p>“The last frontier of the United States,” Dr.
-Steele remarked. “On this planet, at least.”</p>
-<p>“When will we be leaving, Professor Crowell?”
-Lou Mayer asked.</p>
-<p>The professor glanced down at his wrist watch.
-“It’s eight o’clock now. I estimate we’ll be on
-our way shortly after noon. I want you fellows to
-get a hot meal into you first. Then we’ll load the
-truck and station wagon.” He looked around at
-Dr. Steele. “We’ll pick up your equipment at
-Fort St. John on the way back.”</p>
-<p>Jerry was fascinated by the high banks of snow
-on the shoulders of the road. “Boy, I wonder how
-they keep this thing open. Back in the States we’re
-always reading about whole towns being cut off
-by a measly two feet of snow.”</p>
-<p>“Even big cities like New York,” Sandy chimed
-in.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_20">20</div>
-<p>The professor smiled. “That’s because cities like
-New York aren’t prepared for heavy snowfalls. Up
-here, we expect it. Why, I bet a little village like
-Dawson Creek has more snow equipment than
-most big cities on the eastern seaboard of the
-United States. Along the Alaska Highway, for instance,
-there are one hundred and twenty-five
-weather stations alone, and almost as many maintenance
-stations. No, you stand a better chance of
-getting marooned on the Pennsylvania Turnpike
-than you do on this road.”</p>
-<p>Professor Crowell’s ranch house was located on
-a cutoff about a quarter of a mile from the main
-highway. It was a sprawling frame building with
-a large barn at the back of the property and completely
-surrounded by a thick spruce forest.</p>
-<p>The professor, a widower, had twin daughters,
-Judy and Jill, who kept house for him. Their
-domestic efficiency made them seem older than
-their seventeen years. The girls were blond and
-blue-eyed and very pretty, and Jerry couldn’t look
-at them without stammering and blushing. It was
-obvious he was smitten with the twins.</p>
-<p>The Crowell household also included a middle-aged
-French couple, the Duprés; Henri took care
-of the livestock and his wife, Marie, did the cooking.
-Then there was Tagish Charley, who took
-care of the kennels.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_21">21</div>
-<p>Tagish Charley was a full-blooded Indian. He
-stood 6′ 4″ tall, weighed 230 pounds and was as
-lithe as a panther. His hair was the flat black
-color of charcoal, and his skin was the texture
-of ancient parchment. Charley could have been
-any age, from 40 to 400. He spoke English well
-enough, when he spoke, which was very seldom;
-and he said what he had to say in as few words as
-possible.</p>
-<p>“Charley is economical with his money and his
-speech,” Professor Crowell said when he introduced
-him to his guests. “He’s as stoic as a cigar-store
-Indian.”</p>
-<p>Sandy and Jerry hit it off with Charley from the
-start. While the geologists went over the last-minute
-details of their trip in the professor’s study,
-Charley took the boys out to the kennel at one
-side of the barn. A dozen husky dogs were frolicking
-in the snow inside a wire enclosure. As soon as
-they saw Charley they all rushed over to the gate
-and piled up in a seething mass of yelping, snarling,
-twisting fur, leaping up against the chain link
-fence and falling back on top of each other. It was
-a wild melee.</p>
-<p>“Wow!” Jerry exclaimed. “They look as if
-they’d eat you alive.”</p>
-<p>The Indian grunted. “No hurt. They want to
-play.”</p>
-<p>Jerry looked dubious. “I bet they play rough.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_22">22</div>
-<p>The Eskimo dogs were handsome animals. In
-reality they weren’t particularly large; probably
-they weighed about 75 to 80 pounds and stood 18
-inches high at the shoulder; but with their broad
-chests, thick necks and massive heads they looked
-enormous. Their great thick coats varied in color
-from black-and-white to slate-gray, solidly and in
-combinations of all three. They had powerful
-wolflike muzzles, sharp ears and slanting eyes.</p>
-<p>Tagish Charley opened the gate and motioned
-the boys to follow him into the pen. The dogs
-barked and leaped around the Indian, nipping
-his trousers and mittens playfully. They ignored
-the boys. There was one exception. Standing off
-to one side was a big, solid-black husky with a
-white mask across his eyes and upper muzzle. By
-far the largest dog of the lot—Sandy estimated his
-weight to be at least 100 pounds—he seemed to
-regard the antics of his fellows with regal aloofness.
-Finally his eyes turned solemnly on the boys
-and he started toward them.</p>
-<p>“Charley!” Jerry yelled, grabbing Sandy’s arm
-nervously. “He’s charging us.”</p>
-<p>Sandy laughed. “Go on, you sissy. His tail is
-wagging. That means he wants to be friends.”</p>
-<p>“You know that, and I know that,” said Jerry,
-edging backward, “but does <i>he</i> know that?”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_23">23</div>
-<p>“That Black Titan,” Charley said. “Lead dog.
-Best husky in all the North.”</p>
-<p>As the big dog nuzzled against his leg, Sandy
-leaned down and stroked his broad, glossy head.
-“Nice feller. Good boy.... Hey, where did you
-get that lump on your skull, Titan?”</p>
-<p>“He save professor’s life,” Charley declared
-without emotion. “Bad man hit him on head
-with club.”</p>
-<p>“Bad man! When?” the boys exclaimed in a
-chorus.</p>
-<p>“Five, six nights back. Titan hear prowler.
-Jump over fence. Man open window, climb into
-professor’s room, choke professor. Titan jump
-through window, save him.”</p>
-<p>“What happened to the burglar? Did they catch
-him?” Sandy asked excitedly.</p>
-<p>“No. He club Titan, dive through window into
-snow. Get away with dog team.”</p>
-<p>“Gee,” Jerry said. “Even up here they got characters
-like that. Only instead of a getaway car,
-they use dog sleds.”</p>
-<p>“Did he get away with anything valuable?”
-Sandy asked.</p>
-<p>The Indian’s brown face seemed to grow even
-darker. “He no come to rob money.”</p>
-<p>“What do you mean?” Sandy asked.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_24">24</div>
-<p>Charley shrugged. “Many strange things happen
-here this year. Professor sleep with gun under his
-pillow.”</p>
-<p>Sandy and Jerry exchanged wondering looks.
-“Now who’d be out to get a nice old geezer like
-the professor?” Jerry wanted to know.</p>
-<p>Sandy was thoughtful. “I don’t know, Jerry. I
-don’t know. But I have a feeling we’re going to
-find a lot more excitement on this trip than we
-bargained for.”</p>
-<p>“I agree with you,” a terse female voice said
-from behind them.</p>
-<p>Surprised, Sandy whirled around to find Judy
-Crowell standing in the open gateway. Bundled
-up in ski pants, mackinaw and high boots, she
-might have been a boy, except for the mass of
-golden hair sticking out in tufts from beneath her
-wool cap.</p>
-<p>“Charley’s right,” she said. “A lot of strange
-things have been happening around here during
-the last few months. Ever since Dad spent a week
-in Ottawa this fall, he’s been a different man.
-He’s lost weight. He can’t sleep or eat. And—”
-she shivered—“he always carries a pistol with him.
-He’s afraid of something—or someone. But when
-Jill and I ask him, he just laughs and says we’ve
-been seeing too many American motion pictures.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_25">25</div>
-<p>Sandy felt cold prickles creep up his back. “It’s
-funny. My dad brought along a gun with him
-too.”</p>
-<p>Jerry whistled. “What’s it all mean, Sandy?”</p>
-<p>“I don’t know, pal. But I don’t like it.”</p>
-<p>Still surrounded by his ring of canine admirers,
-Tagish Charley addressed Judy Crowell. “You no
-worry about your papa, Miss Judy. Charley take
-good care of him. Bad fellers come around, me
-break ’em up like firewood.” He made a twisting
-motion in the air with his two huge fists.</p>
-<p>For some reason Sandy felt relieved. “I didn’t
-know you were coming with us, Charley.”</p>
-<p>Charley’s serious, expressionless face altered
-for a fleeting instant in a suggestion of a smile. “I
-just decide now.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_26">26</div>
-<h2 id="c3"><span class="small">CHAPTER THREE</span>
-<br />A Mysterious Intruder</h2>
-<p>The little caravan headed north on the Alaska
-Highway about 12:20 <span class="sc">P.M.</span> Professor Crowell, Dr.
-Steele and Lou Mayer led the way in the big station
-wagon, which was loaded down with scientific
-equipment and supplies. Sandy, Jerry and Tagish
-Charley followed in a surplus U.S. Army six-by-six
-truck. The boys and the Indian all rode in the
-roomy cab, with Sandy at the wheel. The back of
-the truck, roofed with a heavy canvas top, had
-been converted into a comfortable compartment
-for the professor’s seven prize huskies. Here, also,
-were the big dog sled, a pyramidal tent, sleeping
-bags, cooking utensils and a Coleman stove.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_27">27</div>
-<p>As Professor Crowell pointed out, there were
-tourist camps and aid stations all along the highway,
-but sometimes it was more convenient to set
-up one’s own camp at the side of the road. Particularly
-in winter, travelers had to be prepared for
-emergencies.</p>
-<p>Both vehicles were equipped with heavy-duty
-tire chains on all wheels, plus oversized snow tires,
-and they rode smoothly and firmly across the hard-packed
-snow surface of the highway.</p>
-<p>As the afternoon deepened into an early dusk,
-the temperature plummeted, and the chill penetrated
-the cab of the truck, even though the heater
-was going full blast. Sandy doubled up his hands
-into fists inside his mittens and wriggled his feet
-inside his fur-lined boots to stimulate his circulation.</p>
-<p>“I’m warm as toast except for my fingers and
-toes,” he said.</p>
-<p>Jerry fingered his nose gingerly. “My old schnozzola
-is getting numb.”</p>
-<p>Tagish Charley, who was taking his turn at the
-wheel, patted his stomach. “Belly say soon time to
-stop and eat.”</p>
-<p>Jerry yawned and looked at the dashboard clock.
-“Three-thirty,” he announced. “We’ve been on
-the road for about three hours. How far have we
-come?”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_28">28</div>
-<p>Sandy studied the speedometer. “A little over
-one hundred and ten miles.”</p>
-<p>“That’s pretty good,” Jerry said. “We’re averaging
-almost forty per.”</p>
-<p>A little while later they passed a river, and now
-Charley turned the headlights on. Out of nowhere,
-it seemed, thousands of tiny snowflakes
-swirled suddenly into the yellow cones of light.</p>
-<p>“It’s snowing!” Jerry exclaimed.</p>
-<p>Sandy surveyed the wilderness on both sides
-anxiously. “I’d hate to spend the night out here
-in a blizzard.”</p>
-<p>“We stop soon,” Charley assured him.</p>
-<p>The words were scarcely out of his mouth when
-they rounded a curve and came upon a little settlement
-set back in a clearing in a pine grove. It
-consisted of two large quonset huts and three small
-log cabins. The warm glow of lights in the small
-windows of the buildings gave Sandy a feeling
-of well-being. The station wagon slowed down,
-tooted twice with its horn and swerved off the
-highway into the circular drive that had been
-plowed up to the entrance of the main building.
-As the truck’s headlights swept across the front of
-the other larger quonset hut, they could see that
-it had big sliding doors that allowed one entire
-wall to open up like an airplane hangar. And as
-the lights probed the interior of the hut, they
-could make out a neat two-engine plane mounted
-on skis. The brief glimpse also revealed a big
-bulldozer plow and other snow-fighting machinery.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_29">29</div>
-<p>“Road crew,” Charley told the boys. “They
-good fellers. We eat good, drink good and sleep
-good.”</p>
-<p class="tb">“You were so right, Charley,” Jerry said later, as
-he pushed himself away from the big plank table
-after sharing a hearty meal of roast lamb, fried
-potatoes, home-made rolls and apple pie with
-Superintendent MacKensie and his maintenance
-gang. “I never ate so good.” He polished off a pint
-mug of milk that was half cream and sighed. “Or
-drank so good either.”</p>
-<p>Superintendent MacKensie, a big florid-faced
-man, tugged at one side of his blond handlebar
-mustache. “Here now, you’re not finished, are
-you?” he asked.</p>
-<p>Jerry patted the round swell of his stomach. “If
-I ate another mouthful, I’d burst, sir.”</p>
-<p>“That’s a shame,” MacKensie said solemnly.
-“Now Cooky’s feelings will be hurt and he’ll make
-you wash the dishes.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_30">30</div>
-<p>A swarthy giant of a man at the far end of the
-table pounded the planks with hamlike fists. “By
-gar, I weel!” he roared in mock anger. “You no
-like Frenchy’s cooking?”</p>
-<p>Everyone laughed as Jerry looked around uncertainly.</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele patted his mouth with a napkin. “As
-Jerry so aptly put it, Frenchy, ‘We never ate so
-good.’”</p>
-<p>“We’re happy you enjoyed it, Doctor,” Superintendent
-MacKensie said. “Now if you’d like to go
-into the other room and toast your feet by the
-hearth, I’ll have one of the lads stir up that fire in
-your cabin.”</p>
-<p>“An excellent suggestion,” Professor Crowell
-agreed.</p>
-<p>With the exception of a half dozen men of the
-road crew who had some tasks to attend to, they
-all retired to the large, comfortably furnished
-recreation room where an enormous stone fireplace
-almost covered one wall. Sandy, Jerry and
-Lou Mayer sat cross-legged directly in front of the
-blazing logs, on a thick bearskin robe that was
-spread-eagled on the floor.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_31">31</div>
-<p>“Man!” Jerry whispered in an awed voice, lifting
-the huge head and inspecting the gleaming
-fangs that were still frightening even in death.
-“I think if I ever ran into one of these babies I’d
-just roll over and die before he laid a paw on me.”</p>
-<p>Lou Mayer poked one of the clawed forepaws
-with his toe. “Well, it’s a sure bet you’d die if he
-ever <i>did</i> lay one of those paws on you. They’re as
-big as dinner plates.”</p>
-<p>Superintendent MacKensie, slouched in an old-fashioned
-rocker, sucked his pipe gravely. “I’ve
-seen them kill a horse with one swipe.”</p>
-<p>“You’ve <i>seen</i> them?” Sandy asked.</p>
-<p>MacKensie smiled reminiscently. “As a matter
-of fact <i>that</i> fellow did kill my horse. I was hunting
-with a party up on Kodiak Island. I blundered
-around a rock right into the beggar. He rose up on
-his hind legs, caught my horse with one blow in
-the choppers and that was it. I managed to jump
-free. Then I pumped five shots into him. They
-might as well have been darts. He would have got
-me for sure if the guide hadn’t dropped him with
-a brain shot.”</p>
-<p>“Powerful beasts,” Professor Crowell acknowledged.
-“The Roman Emperor Nero used to pit
-bears against lions in the arena. And frequently
-they killed the lions.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_32">32</div>
-<p>“It’s a lucky thing we did bring all those guns
-along—” Jerry began, than caught himself as
-Sandy and Lou Mayer stiffened visibly. “Well, it’s
-a good idea with mankillers like this running
-loose,” he finished lamely.</p>
-<p>Superintendent MacKensie laughed. “So you
-expect to do some hunting while you’re up north,
-do you?” he said to Professor Crowell. He turned
-to Dr. Steele. “Of course, the customs officials
-plugged up the barrels of your weapons, didn’t
-they?”</p>
-<p>“Yes, they did,” Dr. Steele said emphatically.
-Speaking directly to Sandy and Jerry, he explained.
-“You see, the Canadians don’t want visitors
-to shoot up their game preserves, and quite
-rightly so. When we cross the border into Alaska,
-the officials will remove the seals from the barrels.
-Do you <i>understand</i>?”</p>
-<p>“Yes, sir,” Sandy mumbled, looking quickly
-away into the embers. He was stunned. <i>Those
-automatics weren’t plugged up.</i> He had never
-heard his father deliberately tell a lie before.</p>
-<p>Unaware of the tension that had mushroomed
-up, MacKensie stretched. “I’d better be getting
-back to the radio shack and see what’s come in
-from the weather stations on this storm. If she
-looks bad, I’ll have to keep a crew on alert. Any
-time you gentlemen feel like sacking in, go to it.
-Your cabin should be warm now. It’s small, but
-cozy. There are six bunk beds, so it won’t be too
-crowded.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_33">33</div>
-<p>“Where’s Charley?” Sandy asked, suddenly
-aware that the Indian was not in the room.</p>
-<p>“Right after supper he went outside to get your
-dogs bedded down,” one of the crewmen told him.</p>
-<p>Professor Crowell smiled. “He treats them like
-children, and they love it. Actually, though, all
-those huskies need for a bed is a soft snowdrift.”</p>
-<p>“They like to sleep in snow?” Jerry asked incredulously.
-“Don’t they freeze?”</p>
-<p>“No, once they tuck in their paws and stick their
-noses under their tails, they’re ready for anything.
-Have you noticed their coats? Double thick.
-Underneath that heavy outside fur there’s a short
-woolly undercoat. The fact is they’re probably
-more comfortable sleeping outside than next to a
-roaring fire.”</p>
-<p>Lou Mayer held his hands up to the flames. “We
-have nothing in common.”</p>
-<p>After MacKensie left, the other maintenance
-men began to drift off to bed. The snow was coming
-down very hard, and they faced the prospect
-of a long, hard day battling the drifts.</p>
-<p>About nine o’clock, Sandy yawned and
-stretched. “What do you say we turn in, pal?” he
-said to Jerry.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_34">34</div>
-<p>“I’m with you,” Jerry replied promptly.</p>
-<p>The boys looked inquiringly at the older men.
-“You two run along,” Dr. Steele told them. “We’ll
-finish our pipes first.”</p>
-<p>Sandy and Jerry dug their mackinaws and mittens
-out of a heap of clothing on the long table in
-the vestibule and slipped on their boots.</p>
-<p>“It’s only a hundred-yard walk,” Sandy admitted,
-“but at thirty below zero it’s worth the
-trouble.”</p>
-<p>“Amen,” Jerry agreed, wrapping his wool muffler
-around his lantern jaw.</p>
-<p>The boys stepped out the back door of the big
-hut and followed the path leading back to the
-cabins. Ten feet away from the building, the wind-whipped
-grains of ice and snow closed in on them
-like a white curtain, blotting out their vision. If
-it had not been for the clearly defined path, they
-would have been helpless.</p>
-<p>“You could get lost in your own back yard in
-this stuff,” Jerry gasped. “Yipes!” he shouted as
-he blundered off the path into a snowdrift.
-“Where’s the St. Bernards?”</p>
-<p>Sandy took his arm and guided him back on the
-path. Finally, a dark outline with a faint square of
-light in the center of it loomed up before them.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_35">35</div>
-<p>“Here we are,” Sandy shouted above the wind.
-“Home at last.”</p>
-<p>“If only the boys back at Valley View High
-could see us now,” Jerry yelled in his ear.
-“Wouldn’t it be something to drop that Pepper
-March out here some night? Boy! Or better yet,
-let’s drop him into a den of those Kodiak bears.”</p>
-<p>Sandy laughed. “I don’t know which of the two
-is more ornery. He might scare them off.”</p>
-<p>They reached the cabin door, and Sandy leaned
-against it and pushed it open. They staggered
-inside and slammed it shut behind them. The
-interior of the one-room shack was dark, except
-for the logs burning low and evenly on the open
-hearth.</p>
-<p>Sandy blinked to accustom his eyes to the dimness.
-“I could have sworn there was a light in the
-window as we came along the path.”</p>
-<p>“Probably the reflection of the flames on the
-panes,” Jerry suggested.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_36">36</div>
-<p>“Yeah. Well, let’s light a lamp.” Sandy took
-several steps toward a table silhouetted against the
-firelight, then stopped suddenly. “Hey!” he said
-in a startled voice, nudging an object on the floor
-with his boot. “What’s this junk spread all over the
-floor? Looks like somebody was breaking up house.
-I wonder—” He broke off as a dark shape materialized
-from the shadows in the far corner of the
-cabin and seemed to glide toward him. At the same
-time, he heard Jerry’s excited shout in his ear.</p>
-<p>“Sandy! There’s somebody in here. Hey, look
-out!”</p>
-<p>Sandy Steele, without even a consciousness of
-what he was facing, reacted with his athlete’s instinct
-and reflexes. Crouching low, he braced himself
-solidly, and as the figure loomed up before
-him, he threw a hard body block at the middle of
-it. His shoulder hit a solid form and he heard a
-soft grunt of pain and anger. As his arms grappled
-with the intruder, he realized for the first
-time that it was a man. His fingers brushed rough
-wool, and then he felt the steel fingers at his
-throat.</p>
-<p>“Get help, Jerry!” he bellowed, just before the
-wind was pinched off in his throat. Then he took
-a hard, numbing blow at the back of his neck and
-felt himself falling ... falling ... falling ...
-into blackness.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_37">37</div>
-<h2 id="c4"><span class="small">CHAPTER FOUR</span>
-<br />Charley Works Out the Huskies</h2>
-<p>When Sandy regained consciousness he was lying
-flat on his back on a cot, surrounded by a ring of
-anxious faces. He recognized his father, Jerry,
-Professor Crowell, Lou Mayer, Superintendent
-MacKensie and several other men from the maintenance
-gang.</p>
-<p>“What—what happened?” Sandy asked weakly.</p>
-<p>“It’s all right, Son. You’re fine. Just a nasty
-bump on the head,” Dr. Steele told him.</p>
-<p>“He really clobbered you, Sandy,” Jerry said.
-“Then he straight-armed me and sent me flying
-back over a chair. Before I could get up he was
-gone in the blizzard.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_38">38</div>
-<p>“There’s no sense trying to follow him in this
-heavy snow,” MacKensie declared. “His tracks
-are probably covered already.”</p>
-<p>“Did he get away with anything?” Sandy wanted
-to know.</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele and Professor Crowell exchanged
-significant glances. Then the Canadian geologist
-said hurriedly, “No, he didn’t steal a thing. Probably
-some renegade trapper looking for guns and
-ammunition. They prey on unwary travelers, these
-chaps. I’ll bet he’s wanted by the Mounties as it
-is.”</p>
-<p>Superintendent MacKensie looked puzzled.
-“He certainly was a queer one, all right. He really
-messed things up. But, now, what do you suppose
-he was after in that stuff?” He pointed to an open
-valise in the middle of the room.</p>
-<p>Sandy propped himself up on one elbow and
-saw that Professor Crowell’s notebooks and papers
-were scattered all about the floor.</p>
-<p>“He must have thought you had money hidden
-between the pages,” Lou Mayer said quickly.</p>
-<p>Superintendent MacKensie scratched his head.
-“I dunno. It beats me. We’ve never had anything
-like this happen before. There have been hijackings
-on the highway, but no one’s ever had the
-nerve to break in here.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_39">39</div>
-<p>“Well, no harm done,” Dr. Steele said. “And
-Sandy will be as good as new after a night’s sleep.
-I suggest we clean this mess up and turn in.”</p>
-<p>The others agreed, and while Sandy rested on
-the cot they began to gather up their scattered belongings.</p>
-<p>“I wonder if he got at the rest of the stuff we
-left in the station wagon,” Professor Crowell said.</p>
-<p>“I doubt it,” Superintendent MacKensie said.
-“Your wagon is in the shed with our scout plane
-and the heavy machinery. We’ve had men working
-out there all evening.”</p>
-<p>After the cabin was in order, MacKensie and his
-men said good night and went back to the main
-barracks. As they were undressing before the fire,
-Dr. Steele questioned Sandy casually but with
-painstaking thoroughness about his encounter
-with the intruder.</p>
-<p>“Was he a big man?” the doctor asked. “Did you
-get a look at his face?”</p>
-<p>Sandy shook his head. “It was too dark to see
-much of anything. All I know is that he was big,
-taller than me, and husky.”</p>
-<p>“That goes for me, too,” Jerry agreed. “For all
-I know it could have been Tagish Charley.”</p>
-<p>Professor Crowell dropped the boot he was
-holding with a loud clatter. “What did you say,
-boy?” he asked in a tense voice.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_40">40</div>
-<p>Jerry laughed nervously at the professor’s obvious
-dismay. “I mean he was big like Charley.
-Of course it wasn’t Charley. Heck, it could have
-been that big French cook. All I know is that he
-was big and strong.”</p>
-<p>“By the way,” Dr. Steele said suddenly, “where
-<i>is</i> Charley?”</p>
-<p>No one answered for a long moment. Then
-Sandy said, “I guess he’s still out with the dogs. Or
-maybe he’s back swapping stories with the old-timers
-in the barracks.”</p>
-<p>Just as Lou Mayer was about to turn down the
-lamp, after the others were all in bed, the cabin
-door swung in and Tagish Charley tramped into
-the room. His hood and parka were encrusted
-with snow and ice, as were his boots and trousers.
-He looked as if he had been out in the storm for
-a long time. In the crook of his left arm he held
-a rifle.</p>
-<p>“Good lord, Charley!” the professor exclaimed,
-sitting upright on his cot. “Where have you been,
-man?”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_41">41</div>
-<p>The Indian walked over to the fireplace and
-shook himself like a great dog. Carefully he
-leaned the rifle against the wall and shrugged out
-of his parka. “I drink coffee in kitchen with
-Frenchy when man run in and say someone break
-into this cabin. I take rifle and follow him.”</p>
-<p>“In this storm!” Sandy said. “You could have
-gotten lost and frozen to death.”</p>
-<p>Charley grunted and tapped a finger to his
-temple. “Indian have thing up here like pigeon.
-Always find way home. Bad man have sled and
-dogs waiting in trees. No use follow him. If snow
-stop in morning, maybe I look around some
-more.” He kicked off his boots, stepped out of his
-wet trousers and spread them out over the back of
-a chair near the fire. Then, like a big animal, he
-padded across the floor to an empty bunk. Seconds
-after his head hit the pillow, the rafters shook
-from his mooselike snores.</p>
-<p>Jerry leaned over the side of his top-deck wall
-bunk and grinned at Sandy in the bunk underneath.
-“Now I know those guys up in Tibet are all
-wet. There isn’t any Abominable Snowman. They
-bumped into Tagish Charley when he was out for
-one of his evening strolls.”</p>
-<p>Sandy grinned back, but it was a weak grin. He
-was bothered alternately by twinges of suspicion
-and pangs of guilt. It <i>couldn’t</i> be Charley; he
-<i>knew</i> it! Yet, anything was possible.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_42">42</div>
-<p>The snow stopped during the night and a high-pressure
-area moved into the vicinity. Morning
-brought clear blue skies and bright sun. But the
-air was still dry and frosty.</p>
-<p>“Actually, only about seven inches fell,” Superintendent
-MacKensie told them at breakfast.
-“By the time you folks are on your way, the highway
-will be slick as a whistle. Our patrol plane’s
-scouting back in the direction of Dawson Creek
-to see if any motorcars are in trouble. If anyone
-was on the road when that snow started coming
-down real hard, they would have had to sit it out
-overnight.”</p>
-<p>“I hope we’re still here when the plane gets
-back,” Jerry said. “I’d like to see how they land
-those babies on skis.”</p>
-<p>“Actually, it’s smoother than landing on
-wheels,” Professor Crowell told him. “I know I
-prefer them.”</p>
-<p>“Do you have your own plane, Professor?”
-Sandy asked.</p>
-<p>“Oh, yes. In wild, big country like this, planes
-are more common than family cars, and far more
-practical. In the summertime almost every lake
-you pass on your way north looks something like
-a supermarket parking field. Private planes, all
-sizes and shapes and makes.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_43">43</div>
-<p>Jerry whistled. “Boy, that’s the life. Can you
-imagine how that would be back in Valley View?
-I can just hear myself saying to my father, ‘Hey,
-Pop, I got a heavy date tonight. Can I have the
-keys to the plane?’”</p>
-<p>The men laughed and Professor Crowell said,
-“That’s not as much of a joke as you think. My
-daughters are always flying up to Edmonton to
-shop for their new spring outfits and Easter
-bonnets.”</p>
-<p>Jerry looked wistful. “Gee, it must be more fun
-being a kid up here than it is in the city.”</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele smiled. “It certainly must be more
-exciting in some ways. Then again, I suspect that
-youngsters like you and Sandy would miss your
-malt shops, drive-ins and television.”</p>
-<p>“They have television here,” Sandy said.</p>
-<p>“Yes,” Superintendent MacKensie admitted,
-“but it’s pretty limited compared to what you
-Americans can see.”</p>
-<p>The boys were intrigued by the heavy, thick
-flapjacks that Frenchy the cook served with thick
-slabs of bacon.</p>
-<p>“They taste different than what my maw
-makes,” Jerry commented. “Sort of sour.” Then,
-with an apologetic glance at the big, bushy-headed
-cook, “But I love ’em.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_44">44</div>
-<p>Superintendent MacKensie’s eyes twinkled.
-“You may not believe it,” he said, “but the fermented
-yeast dough that went into these flapjacks
-is over sixty years old.”</p>
-<p>Jerry choked in the middle of a bite and swallowed
-hard. “Sixty years old! You’re kidding, sir?”</p>
-<p>“Not in the least. It was handed down to
-Frenchy by his father, who was a gold prospector
-up in the Yukon in the eighteen-nineties.”</p>
-<p>“Wow!” Jerry laid down his fork. “Talk about
-hoarders.”</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele laughed. “Sourdough, of course.
-Those old prospectors got their nickname from it.
-You boys have heard of sourdoughs, haven’t you?”</p>
-<p>“Sure,” Jerry admitted. “I just never knew
-where the name came from.”</p>
-<p>“Sourdough was the prospector’s staff of life on
-the trail,” Superintendent MacKensie explained.
-“Once he got the mixture just right, he’d keep it
-in a tightly closed container and add to it as he
-used it. But the culture always remained the
-same.”</p>
-<p>“Yeast is like a fungus,” Professor Crowell
-elaborated for the boys’ benefit. “It’s composed of
-living, growing cells.”</p>
-<p>“Yes,” the superintendent went on. “This particular
-strain in the flapjacks we’re eating has been
-kept alive for sixty years by Frenchy’s family.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_45">45</div>
-<p>“<i>Oui</i>,” the cook spoke from the end of the table.
-“My <i>papa</i> give some of this sourdough to all his
-sons and daughters when they leave home. I give
-to my son some day.”</p>
-<p>“Amazing,” said Lou Mayer.</p>
-<p>Frenchy stood up and swung a big, empty
-platter up on one hand. “I go make some more,
-no?” He looked down at Jerry. “You eat five or
-six more, hey, boy? They very small.”</p>
-<p>Jerry attacked the last flapjack on his plate with
-renewed relish. “A couple more anyway, Frenchy.
-And maybe another slab of that bacon.” He
-winked as Sandy began to groan. “Who knows, we
-may get stranded for days in a blizzard without
-food. I’m storing up energy.”</p>
-<p>After breakfast, Sandy and Jerry went outside
-and watched Tagish Charley work out the huskies
-on the landing strip off to one side of the road
-station. The dog sled was about ten feet long with
-a welded aluminum frame and polished steel
-runners. Extending halfway down both sides, were
-guard rails to which baggage could be strapped.
-There was a small footrest at the rear, where the
-sled driver could ride standing erect, and a rubber-coated
-handrail for him to grip.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_46">46</div>
-<p>The dogs milled about excitedly as Charley
-harnessed them to the sled. They were hitched up
-in staggered formation, one dog’s head abreast
-of the haunches of the dog in front of him.
-Black Titan led the pack, and the driving reins
-were attached only to his harness.</p>
-<p>“Lead dog, he have to be very smart,” Charley
-told them, ruffling up the thick fur collar around
-Titan’s throat. “He boss of team. Not driver.
-Other dogs do bad job, he scold them. Sometimes
-he have to fight a bad dog who make trouble.”</p>
-<p>“Do you think Professor Crowell’s team has a
-chance to win the race from Whitehorse to Skagway?”
-Sandy asked him.</p>
-<p>“We win,” Charley said matter-of-factly. “Best
-team, best lead dog.” He patted Titan’s head.
-“Black Titan pull sled all alone if he have to.”</p>
-<p>“Is the professor going to drive himself, Charley?”
-Jerry inquired curiously.</p>
-<p>The Indian shrugged his shoulders. “Better he
-not drive in race. Professor fine dog driver, but
-safer if he not drive this race. On trail easy for
-bad men to get him. Better for Charley to drive
-team.”</p>
-<p>“Charley,” Sandy asked worriedly, “do you
-have any idea why the bad men are after Professor
-Crowell? Why would anyone want to harm a nice
-man like him?”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_47">47</div>
-<p>Anger tightened Charley’s features. “Professor
-got something they want very bad. They kill him
-if they have to.”</p>
-<p>“But <i>what</i> do they want? What is it the professor
-has that’s so valuable to them? Money?
-Jewels?”</p>
-<p>Charley shook his head. “Professor no have
-money or jewels. Maybe something he have in
-here.” He tapped his finger against his forehead
-wisely.</p>
-<p>Sandy looked at Jerry. “You know, he could
-have something there. I think I’m going to have
-a man-to-man talk with my dad first chance I get.”</p>
-<p>The two boys rode on the sled as ballast while
-Charley put the powerful team through its paces,
-whizzing back and forth on the hard-packed surface
-of the landing strip and churning through
-high drifts in the virgin snow around the fringes.</p>
-<p>“Great!” Jerry yelled in Sandy’s ear, clutching
-the guard rail with one hand and, with his other
-hand, protecting his face from the spray of snow
-flung back by the dogs’ flying feet. “This is better
-than the roller coaster at Disneyland.”</p>
-<p>Sandy nodded vigorously. “That Titan is fantastic,
-isn’t he? He acts almost human.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_48">48</div>
-<p>Seemingly aware of his admiring audience,
-Black Titan put on an impressive display. Setting
-a pace for his teammates that kept their tongues
-lolling from their black-roofed mouths, he guided
-them smoothly into sharp turns and sudden twists
-and broke trail through muzzle-high snow with
-his broad chest as if it were light as dust—all the
-time responsive to the slightest tug at the reins.</p>
-<p>“He’s a marvel, all right,” Sandy told Charley
-later when the dogs were resting after their work-out.</p>
-<p>“Boy, would I ever like to get into that big race.
-You don’t need any passengers, do you, Charley?”
-Jerry asked.</p>
-<p>“Okay for you boys to come along. Need five
-hundred pounds on sled anyway.”</p>
-<p>Sandy was overjoyed. “You mean it, Charley?
-Really? Jerry and I can ride ballast on the sled?”</p>
-<p>“Sure. You ask professor.”</p>
-<p>At that minute, Dr. Steele came walking across
-the landing strip toward them. “You fellows about
-ready to leave? It’s nine-thirty. Superintendent
-MacKensie has had our vehicles warming up for
-almost half an hour now.”</p>
-<p>Sandy spoke to Jerry in a low voice. “You help
-Charley get the dogs in the truck. I want to talk
-to my dad—in private.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_49">49</div>
-<h2 id="c5"><span class="small">CHAPTER FIVE</span>
-<br />Christmas in the Wilderness</h2>
-<p>“Dad,” Sandy began haltingly as they walked
-slowly back to the barracks, “Professor Crowell is
-in some kind of trouble, isn’t he?”</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele was evasive. “You mean because of
-that man who broke into our cabin? What makes
-you think that had anything to do with the professor?”</p>
-<p>Sandy looked earnestly into his father’s eyes.
-“That was no ordinary thief, Dad. He was after
-something in Professor Crowell’s notes and
-papers.” His face became even graver. “Maybe
-they’re after you, too.”</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele tried to laugh it off, but his mirth was
-hollow. “Aren’t you becoming a little melodramatic,
-Son?”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_50">50</div>
-<p>“You don’t fool me for a minute, Dad. I know
-that whatever’s going on is probably top-secret
-government business and you can’t tell me what
-it’s all about. But I do think it’s only fair to tell me
-whether or not you or the professor or Lou Mayer
-are in any danger.”</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele appeared to think it over very carefully.
-Finally, he sighed. “Yes, I guess you’re right.
-I brought you boys along, so I don’t suppose I have
-any right to keep you completely in the dark. The
-fact is we <i>are</i> in danger—all of us. I had no right
-to expose you boys—especially Jerry—to this kind
-of thing, but I thought at first we could deceive
-<i>them</i> into believing that this was just a routine
-geological survey. I was wrong. They’re far too
-clever.” His mouth tightened. “Maybe the best
-thing to do would be to send you and Jerry back
-home.”</p>
-<p>“Dad!” Sandy looked hurt. “Not on your life. If
-you’re in any kind of trouble, I’m sticking with
-you until you’re out of it.”</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele frowned. “I wish I could tell you
-more about this, Sandy, but I’m bound by an oath
-of secrecy. You’ll just have to trust me.”</p>
-<p>“I trust you, Dad.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_51">51</div>
-<p>“As for Jerry James, I think it’s only fair for you
-to tell him what I’ve told you and let him decide
-whether he wants to continue on with us.”</p>
-<p>“I’ll ask him,” Sandy agreed. “But I know what
-he’s going to say right now.”</p>
-<p>They were almost at the front door of the barracks
-now. “One more thing, Dad,” Sandy said.
-“Tagish Charley. I like him an awful lot. You
-don’t think that he—”</p>
-<p>“That he’s the one who ransacked our cabin last
-night?” the doctor finished for him. “The same
-thought flashed through my mind, too. I just can’t
-believe it, though. Charley’s been with the professor
-for years; he’s like one of the family. Still—”
-his face went grim—“we don’t really know—and
-we can’t afford to take chances.”</p>
-<p>Superintendent MacKensie greeted them as
-they entered the building. “Your wagons are all
-set to roll,” he announced.</p>
-<p>Sandy took his friend aside just before they
-left the station and repeated what his father had
-said, offering Jerry the choice of going back to
-Valley View.</p>
-<p>“I ought to slug you,” the husky, dark-haired
-boy roared, his black eyes flashing, his square
-jaw jutting out defiantly, “for even thinking I’d
-back out on you when you were in trouble! What
-kind of a guy do you think I am?”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_52">52</div>
-<p>“Take it easy, Buster.” Sandy threw his arm
-around his friend’s shoulders. “I told Dad that’s
-exactly what you would say.”</p>
-<p class="tb">They made good time all that morning, and a
-little after one o’clock they reached Fort Nelson.
-Here they ate lunch with the Game Commissioner,
-an old friend of Professor Crowell’s.
-Later, while the station wagon and truck were
-being refueled, the boys accompanied Tagish
-Charley down to the Indian village on the banks
-of the frozen Nelson River. Charley went straight
-to the house of the headman in the village, and
-they talked earnestly and excitedly in an Indian
-dialect for some time.</p>
-<p>On the way back to the truck, he told the boys:
-“That man know everything go on in province.
-He say many strangers pass this way. They say they
-French trappers, but they speak strange tongue
-and never sell any furs.”</p>
-<p>“Did he say how many?” Sandy asked.</p>
-<p>“Maybe six.”</p>
-<p>Jerry clapped his mittened hands together.
-“And there are five of us. Those aren’t bad odds.”</p>
-<p>“In a fair fight,” Sandy corrected him. “But
-from what I’ve heard and seen of these guys, they
-probably have no idea of fighting fair.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_53">53</div>
-<p>The sun went down early, but this night was
-clear and the sky was full of stars, so they drove on
-for quite a while after dark. At five-thirty they
-came to a weather station near Lake Muncho. It
-was a small place, manned by three technicians,
-and although the five guests really crowded their
-quarters, the weathermen were very hospitable.</p>
-<p>“You chaps are lucky,” the man in charge told
-them. “This high-pressure area should be with us
-for the rest of the week. You’ll have fine weather
-all the way to Alaska.”</p>
-<p>“Gosh,” said Jerry, when he saw the small pine
-tree trimmed with tinsel and colored balls and
-lights that stood in one corner of the shack’s main
-room. “I almost forgot—this is Christmas Eve.”</p>
-<p>“It doesn’t seem like it, somehow,” Sandy said,
-feeling a slight twinge of homesickness. “Not
-without Mom’s turkey dinner and presents and
-Christmas carols.”</p>
-<p>“Christmas isn’t turkey and presents and
-chimes,” Professor Crowell observed. “It’s what
-you feel in the heart.”</p>
-<p>“You’re right, sir,” Sandy admitted. Then he
-grinned. “I guess Jerry and I are still kids at
-heart.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_54">54</div>
-<p>“That’s as it should be,” the professor said.
-“It’s one of the things I admire most about you
-Americans—your boyish exuberance. You’re always
-looking for an excuse to give a party. I think
-it’s one of the reasons why you have so many national
-holidays.”</p>
-<p>“Nothing shy about us Canadians when it comes
-to a party either,” one of the weathermen put in.
-He turned to his two partners. “Let’s show these
-Yanks a real Christmas party. What do you say?”</p>
-<p>There was a chorus of “ayes.”</p>
-<p>After a hearty meal of tinned ham, fried potatoes
-and frozen candied yams, topped off by a
-flaming plum pudding, they gathered in a tight
-circle about the little fireplace and sipped hot
-cider and nibbled marshmallows toasted in the
-winking embers. About nine o’clock the weathermen
-picked up a Canadian Broadcasting Corporation
-program of Christmas carols on their shortwave
-radio and piped it through a big hi-fi speaker
-over the fireplace.</p>
-<p>“This is more like it,” Jerry sighed contentedly,
-stuffing himself with marshmallows and roasted
-nuts, staring at the lights twinkling on the Christmas
-tree and listening to the strains of “Silent
-Night.”</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele grinned mysteriously. “And who
-knows, maybe Santa will find you boys even up
-here. Better pin up your stockings before you go
-to bed.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_55">55</div>
-<p>There were only two extra cots at the weather
-station, so the boys, Lou Mayer and Tagish Charley
-bedded down in their sleeping bags around
-the fireplace. Just before he turned in, Charley
-fed the dogs and let them run for a while on the
-deserted highway. Then he penned them in on the
-big front porch of the weather station.</p>
-<p>Sandy fell asleep as soon as his head touched the
-pillow, and the next thing he knew, sunlight was
-streaming into his eyes. Yawning, he sat up and
-looked around. Tagish Charley and Lou Mayer
-were already up and off somewhere. Only Jerry
-was still asleep, curled up in his sleeping bag like
-a hibernating bear.</p>
-<p>Sandy’s eyes widened as they came to rest on the
-little Christmas tree in the corner. Beneath it were
-piled assorted boxes wrapped in gaily colored
-tissue and tied with tinseled ribbon. He leaned
-over and shook his friend.</p>
-<p>“Hey, Jerry, wake up!”</p>
-<p>Jerry snorted and opened his eyes, heavy-lidded
-with sleep. “Whazza matter?” he mumbled.</p>
-<p>Sandy grinned. “Looks like Santa was here
-while we were asleep. C’mon, get up.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_56">56</div>
-<p>Sandy rolled out of his sleeping bag, put on his
-trousers, shirt and boots and went over to the
-tree. Kneeling down, he read the tags on the packages:
-“‘<i>To Sandy from Dad</i>,’ ‘<i>To Jerry....</i>’ Hey!
-There’s something here for everybody.”</p>
-<p>He looked up and saw his father, Professor
-Crowell and Lou Mayer standing in the doorway
-that led into the tiny kitchen. They were all
-smiling broadly.</p>
-<p>“Well, don’t just sit there,” Dr. Steele said.
-“Pass them around.”</p>
-<p>As Sandy had observed, there was something
-for everyone. An intricate chronometer wrist watch
-that told the days of the month and even the phases
-of the moon for Sandy; a candid camera for Jerry;
-a gold fountain pen for Lou Mayer; and a fine
-steel hunting knife with a silver inlaid handle for
-Tagish Charley. Professor Crowell, with genuine
-Yuletide spirit, gave a set of ivory chessmen he
-had bought from an Indian at Fort Nelson to the
-three weathermen. They, in turn, presented the
-professor and Dr. Steele each with a pair of fine
-snowshoes.</p>
-<p>After they had burned the wrappings in the fire,
-Sandy remarked rather sadly, “Gee, Dad, now I
-wish I hadn’t left your present back home. But
-Mom said we’d save all the gifts till we got back.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_57">57</div>
-<p>Dr. Steele put his arm around his son’s shoulders.
-“Sandy, the best present you could ever give
-me is just being here.” He reached for Jerry with
-his other arm. “That goes for you too, Jerry.”</p>
-<p class="tb">Right after breakfast, they said goodbye to their
-new friends and headed north again. They drove
-into Watson Lake, just across the border in Yukon
-territory, about two o’clock. Watson Lake was one
-of the largest towns along the Alaska Highway. In
-addition to a Mountie station and an R.C.A.F.
-base, there was an airstrip for commercial airlines
-and accommodations for putting up passengers
-overnight. They drove straight out to the air force
-base, where the sentry ushered them through the
-gate with a snappy salute as soon as Professor
-Crowell identified himself.</p>
-<p>“The old prof really rates in these parts, doesn’t
-he?” Jerry mused, as they drove through the precisely
-laid-out checkerboard streets past neat log-cabin
-barracks to the HQ building.</p>
-<p>They were even more impressed by the reception
-the professor received from the Base Commander,
-an old friend he had worked with in
-World War II.</p>
-<p>“You’re just in time for Christmas dinner,” the
-Commander told them happily. “Roast turkey
-with all the trimmings.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_58">58</div>
-<p>Jerry rubbed his stomach gleefully. “This stands
-to be the best holiday season of our lives, Sandy.
-Wherever we go people give us Christmas dinners.”</p>
-<p>The geologists decided to stop over at Watson
-Lake and get an early start the next morning for
-the long, grueling uphill drive over the divide.</p>
-<p>“What is the divide?” Jerry asked.</p>
-<p>“A high shelf on the continent that determines
-the direction of water drainage,” Dr. Steele explained.
-“In the case of North America, it’s the
-Rocky Mountains. All the rivers and streams on
-one side of the Rockies run in a generally easterly
-direction; on the other side they flow to the west.”</p>
-<p>“Will we have any trouble driving up those
-mountains with all this snow and ice?” Sandy inquired
-of the R.C.A.F. Commander.</p>
-<p>“Well, it’s a pretty tortuous route,” the officer
-admitted. “But the ascent is fairly gradual. With
-chains you shouldn’t have too much trouble. Of
-course, if it should snow again, that would be
-another matter.”</p>
-<p>“We’ll get an early start,” Professor Crowell
-told them. “About six <span class="sc">A.M.</span>”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_59">59</div>
-<h2 id="c6"><span class="small">CHAPTER SIX</span>
-<br />Attack from the Air</h2>
-<p>It was gray and cold when they left Watson Lake
-on the last leg of their journey on the Alaska
-Highway.</p>
-<p>“At Whitehorse, we’ll give the car and truck a
-rest and take to the air,” Dr. Steele explained.
-“The Canadian government has put a plane at
-the professor’s disposal for as long as we’re up
-here.”</p>
-<p>But the big attraction at Whitehorse as far as the
-boys and Tagish Charley were concerned was the
-big dog-sled race to Skagway.</p>
-<p>“The professor says it’s okay with him if Jerry
-and I ride ballast,” Sandy informed the Indian.
-“That’s if it’s all right with you?”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_60">60</div>
-<p>“Okay by me,” Charley said. He glanced sideways
-at Jerry. “But this boy keep eating so much
-he get too fat to sit on sled.”</p>
-<p>Sandy let out a guffaw and Jerry pretended to
-sulk. “You guys have a nerve,” he said. “You both
-lick your plates cleaner than Black Titan does.”</p>
-<p>“If Tubby, here, is too much of a load for the
-huskies,” Sandy suggested, “we can always let him
-run behind the sled.”</p>
-<p>Suddenly, Charley hunched down and squinted
-through the windshield. “Plane,” he announced
-curtly.</p>
-<p>The boys followed his gaze but could see nothing.
-“Where?” Sandy asked.</p>
-<p>Charley pointed toward a line of snow-capped
-mountain peaks in the distance surrounded by
-blue haze. Sandy saw a speck that moved out of
-sight behind one of the peaks. He couldn’t make
-out what it was.</p>
-<p>“Are you sure it wasn’t a bird?” he said uncertainly.</p>
-<p>“It plane,” Charley said firmly.</p>
-<p>“Maybe it’s from one of the road stations,” Jerry
-suggested.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_61">61</div>
-<p>“I guess so,” Sandy said and pushed down a little
-harder on the accelerator to close the gap between
-them and the station wagon, which had
-drawn about a quarter of a mile ahead.</p>
-<p>Gradually the road climbed, winding and twisting
-through canyons and hugging mountainsides
-in hazardous stretches. At one such spot Jerry
-peered down into the chasm that dropped off
-steeply on one side and clapped his hands over his
-eyes.</p>
-<p>“I think I’ll get out and walk the rest of the
-way,” he groaned.</p>
-<p>Sandy’s face was grim as he nursed the big truck
-around the curves, never letting the speedometer
-needle climb above the 30 on the dial.</p>
-<p>Then, without warning, a great throbbing roar
-bore down on them from the rear. Instinctively,
-they ducked their heads as it seemed to shatter
-the roof of the cab. An instant later a plane
-appeared through the windshield zooming down
-the road toward the station wagon.</p>
-<p>“Yipes!” Jerry exclaimed. “What does he think
-he’s doing?”</p>
-<p>“The crazy fool!” Sandy said angrily. “He could
-have scared us off the highway. Look at him! He
-can’t be more than fifty feet off the ground.”</p>
-<p>The little ship skimmed over the station wagon
-and started to climb in a wide arc.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_62">62</div>
-<p>“You think it’s a scout plane from one of the
-road stations?” Jerry said anxiously.</p>
-<p>“I don’t know,” Sandy replied, trying to keep
-one eye on the road and the other on the circling
-plane. “It looks as if he’s coming back again.”
-Gratefully, he noted that they were approaching
-a less treacherous section of highway.</p>
-<p>Once more they heard the little plane gunning
-its motor at top speed as it flew up behind them.
-As it passed over them, a small round hole appeared,
-as if by magic, at the top of their windshield.</p>
-<p>For a moment they were too stunned to react,
-then Jerry yelled, “They’re shooting at us!”</p>
-<p>With an unintelligible oath, Tagish Charley
-whirled in the seat and reached back through the
-curtain partition into the rear of the truck.
-“Stop!” he told Sandy as he pulled out his hunting
-rifle.</p>
-<p>As Sandy brought the lumbering vehicle to a
-skidding halt at the side of the road, he saw that
-the station wagon had pulled up also, and the
-three geologists were piling out frantically.</p>
-<p>Tagish Charley motioned to a patch of timber
-about a hundred yards away. “Go—fast.” The
-three of them floundered through knee-deep drifts
-as the engine roar of the plane built up in their ears.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_63">63</div>
-<p>“Down!” Charley bellowed. “Flat!” As the boys
-flattened out, the Indian turned, dropped to one
-knee and threw the rifle to his shoulder. He
-squeezed off two shots, leading the plane as if it
-were a wild duck. In return, a fusillade of shots
-from the plane kicked up the snow all around
-them.</p>
-<p>“Those guys really mean business!” Jerry
-yelled as they scrambled to their feet and ran for
-the woods again.</p>
-<p>“This is like one of those nightmares where
-you’re being chased by a wild animal and your legs
-move in slow motion,” Sandy gasped, churning
-through the snow.</p>
-<p>They reached the trees just before the plane
-swooped over them again. Crouching behind a
-tree bole, Charley emptied his rifle at the retreating
-ship. A slug splattered the bark just above his
-head.</p>
-<p>This time as the plane climbed, a thin spiral of
-smoke trailed back from the engine, and the
-rhythm of the motor was uneven.</p>
-<p>Sandy let out a cheer. “You got him, Charley!
-Good shooting.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_64">64</div>
-<p>Immediately the plane broke off its attack and
-headed north. Sandy led the way down the road to
-where the three geologists were standing by the
-station wagon, watching the ship dwindle to a
-speck in the distance.</p>
-<p>“Are you okay, Dad?” he yelled anxiously.
-“Anybody hurt?”</p>
-<p>“No, just badly frightened,” Dr. Steele replied.
-“How about you fellows?”</p>
-<p>“No casualties,” Sandy reported breathlessly.
-“Just a bullet hole in the windshield.”</p>
-<p>“It seems as if Charley saved the day,” Professor
-Crowell said. He took one of the Indian’s big
-hands in both of his. “I’m glad you decided to
-come along, my friend.”</p>
-<p>Charley gave him one of his rare, quick smiles.
-“Bad men try hurt you—” He paused and drew a
-finger across his throat.</p>
-<p>“Like I said before,” Jerry declared, “I’m glad
-he’s on our side.”</p>
-<p>The Indian cocked his head toward the truck,
-where the dogs were setting up a raucous clamor.
-“I go see if huskies okay.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_65">65</div>
-<p>Lou Mayer shivered and hugged his arms
-tightly around his body. “And to think I could
-have been a teacher in a nice cozy classroom in
-some peaceful college in the balmy South instead
-of shooting it out with enemy agents in the
-Yukon—” He stopped short and looked guiltily
-at Dr. Steele. “I’m sorry, sir. That just slipped
-out.”</p>
-<p>“That’s all right, Lou,” Dr. Steele said. “I think
-by now the boys have a pretty good idea of what
-we’re up against.” Sensing the question that was
-forming in Sandy’s mind, he added hastily, “But
-for the present, at least, that’s all we can tell you.”
-As Lou and the professor were getting back into
-the station wagon, he whispered to his son, “At
-least this little incident answers our question
-about Charley, once and for all.”</p>
-<p>“It sure does,” Sandy agreed. “We’ll see you
-later, Dad.” He and Jerry turned and trudged
-back to the truck.</p>
-<p>Jerry’s voice was small and numb. “Wow! Enemy
-agents! Wow! Wait till the guys hear about
-this!”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_66">66</div>
-<h2 id="c7"><span class="small">CHAPTER SEVEN</span>
-<br />The Big Race</h2>
-<p>They rolled into Whitehorse late that night.
-The boys were surprised to find a fairly modern
-city with paved streets, rows of stores and shops
-and street lamps. As they drove down the main
-street, festively decorated with wreaths, colored
-lights and holly, Jerry shook his head.</p>
-<p>“Why, it looks pretty much like Valley View.”</p>
-<p>“They even have bowling alleys,” Sandy
-pointed out. “And neon signs.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_67">67</div>
-<p>Later, as they ate supper in the hotel dining
-room, Dr. Steele told them about the origin of the
-city: “Whitehorse was born in the gold rush, when
-thousands of sourdoughs trekked over the mountains
-from Alaska and the Pacific ports to seek
-their fortunes. Whitehorse was sort of a jumping-off
-place. They ran the rapids to Lake Laberge in
-anything that would float—barges, rafts, scows—and
-on down the Yukon River to Dawson. A few of
-them struck bonanzas, but most of them found
-only poverty and disillusionment. There’s just no
-way to get rich quick.”</p>
-<p>“I know you’re right, Dr. Steele,” Jerry remarked.
-“Though I was kind of hoping that Sandy
-and I could strike out north with Professor Crowell’s
-dog team and stake ourselves a claim. That
-French cook back at the road station even gave me
-a jar of that sourdough of his to get us started.”</p>
-<p>Professor Crowell laughed. “Before you boys
-do anything like that, you had better see how you
-stand up to the rigors of the trail during the big
-race to Skagway.”</p>
-<p>“When do we start?” Jerry asked.</p>
-<p>“The day after tomorrow.”</p>
-<p>Charley gulped down a small roll with one bite.
-“Tomorrow we give huskies plenty exercise. Not
-much to eat.”</p>
-<p>Sandy frowned. “You’re going to starve them
-before the race? Won’t it weaken them?”</p>
-<p>Charley grunted. “No starve. Huskies can go
-week without food. They little hungry, they run
-faster and fight harder.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_68">68</div>
-<p>“What are you, Lou and Professor Crowell going
-to be doing the rest of this week?” Sandy asked
-his father as they left the table.</p>
-<p>His father thought about it a minute before
-answering. “Well, tomorrow we thought we’d fly
-up to Fairbanks and visit the University of Alaska.
-The president’s an old friend of mine. We hope
-to inspect some of the fossils they’ve dug up lately.
-I understand they have some fine specimens on
-display.”</p>
-<p>“Gee, I wish we could come with you,” Sandy
-said. “That sounds like interesting stuff.”</p>
-<p>“Yeah,” Jerry agreed. “We kids in the States
-never get to see things like that.”</p>
-<p>“Why, that’s not so, Jerry,” Professor Crowell
-objected. “Your American museums and universities
-contain some of the most fascinating specimens
-of prehistoric beasts that I’ve ever seen.
-The last time I visited the American Museum of
-Natural History in New York I saw the leg of a
-baby mammoth that was completely intact. It had
-been preserved for centuries in a glacier, and the
-museum kept it in a deep freeze.”</p>
-<p>“The professor’s right, Jerry,” Sandy admitted.
-“The trouble with so many of the kids we know is
-that they’re too lazy to use their eyes and their
-ears—and their legs.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_69">69</div>
-<p>Dr. Steele interrupted. “As a matter of fact,
-did either of you boys know that Black Bart, the
-notorious stagecoach bandit, is reputed to have
-buried a strongbox with $40,000 in gold in the
-hills back of Stockton?”</p>
-<p>“Gosh, no!” Jerry exclaimed. “What do you say,
-Sandy? Let’s go on a treasure hunt next summer.
-That’s practically in our back yard.”</p>
-<p>Professor Crowell smiled. “That beats digging
-for gold in the Yukon, I’d say.”</p>
-<p>“How long will you be in Fairbanks?” Sandy
-wanted to know.</p>
-<p>“Oh, no more than a day,” Dr. Steele said. “We
-want to get back to Skagway to see you fellows
-come across the finish line in the big race.”</p>
-<p>“In first place, of course,” Jerry added smugly.</p>
-<p>“That would be a treat,” Professor Crowell
-said.</p>
-<p>“Now I think we should all go up to our rooms
-and get a good night’s sleep,” Dr. Steele suggested.
-“We’ve had a long, trying day.”</p>
-<p>“That sounds good to me,” Lou Mayer seconded.
-“It will be a real pleasure to rest my weary
-bones on an honest-to-goodness bed with a soft
-mattress.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_70">70</div>
-<p>“You chaps go ahead,” said Professor Crowell.
-“I’m going down the street to the police barracks
-and report that incident with the plane today.”</p>
-<p>“Do you really think that’s wise?” Dr. Steele
-asked gravely.</p>
-<p>“The chief constable is a reliable man,” the
-professor told him. “He can be depended upon to
-be discreet. He may have received a report from
-one of these local airstrips about a small plane
-making an emergency landing. I don’t think those
-fellows could have traveled too far with their engine
-smoking like that. If they did land near here,
-we can put our people on their track.”</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele nodded. “Good idea. Do you want
-me to come with you?”</p>
-<p>“That won’t be necessary,” the older man assured
-him. “I’ll take Charley along.”</p>
-<p>Upstairs, when the boys had bathed and
-changed into their pajamas, they lay in the dark
-in the small hotel room they shared and discussed
-the events of the day.</p>
-<p>“What do you think it’s all about, anyway?”
-Jerry wondered. “We know enemy agents are
-after the professor. But why? It’s not like he was
-an atomic scientist or something. What could they
-want with a plain old geology professor?”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_71">71</div>
-<p>“I don’t know,” Sandy said worriedly. “But it
-must have something to do with our reason for
-coming up to Alaska. You can bet my dad and the
-professor didn’t make the trip <i>just</i> to look at fossils
-and take soil samples. Well, we’ll just have
-to wait and see.”</p>
-<p>“Br-r-r,” Jerry said, “it’s like walking through
-a haunted house on Halloween Eve. You don’t
-know what to expect. But whatever it is, you know
-it won’t be good.” He threw back the covers and
-got out of bed.</p>
-<p>“Hey, where are you going?” Sandy demanded.</p>
-<p>Jerry padded across the room barefoot. “I just
-want to make sure that door is locked.”</p>
-<p class="tb">The day of the big race was bitter cold and the
-sky was leaden with snow clouds scudding across
-the mountain peaks around Whitehorse. A huge
-crowd had gathered at the starting line on the
-outskirts of the city, and the air rang with merry
-voices and the yelping of dogs. Sandy and Jerry
-huddled close to a big bonfire outside the officials’
-tent while Tagish Charley made a last-minute
-check of the sled and the dogs’ harnesses.</p>
-<p>One of the judges came up and spoke to Sandy.
-“I understand you boys are from the States. What
-do you think of our big country?”</p>
-<p>“It’s very exciting, sir,” Sandy said.</p>
-<p>“And very cold,” Jerry added.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_72">72</div>
-<p>The judge laughed. “Wait until you’re out on
-the trail a few hours. Then you’ll know how cold
-it is. You’re riding with Professor Crowell’s
-team, right?”</p>
-<p>“Yes, sir. And we’re really looking forward to
-it. This is some big event, isn’t it?”</p>
-<p>The air was charged with a holiday atmosphere.
-Men and women were laughing and singing as
-they sipped from steaming mugs of coffee and tea;
-and a few were drinking from mugs that Sandy
-suspected contained even stronger brew.</p>
-<p>“The race from Whitehorse is a time-honored
-ritual,” the judge told them. “Back in the old
-days, the course was even longer. From Dawson to
-Skagway, almost six hundred miles.”</p>
-<p>“Good night!” Jerry said. “Those poor dogs
-must have worn their legs down to the shoulder.”</p>
-<p>“As a matter of fact,” the judge went on, “Klondike
-Mike Mahoney used to operate a mail and
-freight route from Skagway to Dawson.”</p>
-<p>“Who was Klondike Mike Mahoney?” Sandy
-asked.</p>
-<p>“A rather fantastic young man who came to the
-Yukon during the gold rush and became a living
-legend.” He smiled. “You might say he was our
-counterpart of your Davy Crockett.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_73">73</div>
-<p>“Hey! What are they doing?” Jerry pointed to
-a group of Eskimos who were laughing and
-whooping as they catapulted an Eskimo girl high
-into the air from a large animal hide stretched
-taut like a fireman’s net.</p>
-<p>“That’s one of their favorite games,” the judge
-said. “You’ve probably played something like it
-at the beach—tossing a boy up in a blanket.”</p>
-<p>“Yeah,” Jerry said. “But not like <i>that</i>. She’s
-better than some acrobats I’ve seen on the stage.”</p>
-<p>Time after time, the slender Eskimo girl shot
-into the air, as high as twenty-five feet, like an
-arrow, never losing her balance. While they were
-watching her, Tagish Charley joined them by the
-fire. In his one hand he held a sheet of oiled paper
-on which were spread a half-dozen cubes that
-looked like the slabs of chocolate and vanilla ice
-cream served in ice-cream parlors.</p>
-<p>“Eat,” Charley said, offering them to the boys.</p>
-<p>Sandy took one gingerly. “Looks good. But
-what is it?”</p>
-<p>“<i>Muk-tuk</i>,” the Indian grunted.</p>
-<p>“A Northern delicacy,” the judge said with a
-straight face.</p>
-<p>Jerry stuffed one of the cubes into his mouth
-with gusto. “Say, that’s good. Tastes like coconut.”</p>
-<p>Sandy nibbled at his with more reserve. “It
-does a little. Maybe a little oilier. What’s it made
-of?”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_74">74</div>
-<p>“Whale skin and blubber,” the judge informed
-him. “The white part is blubber, and the dark is
-hide.”</p>
-<p>Jerry gagged momentarily, swallowed his last
-mouthful, then smiled manfully. “I wish you
-hadn’t said that, sir,” he declared. “But it still
-tastes good.”</p>
-<p>“You ready now?” Charley asked the boys.
-“Time for race soon.”</p>
-<p>They shook hands with the official and followed
-Charley over to the starting line, where the teams
-were lining up.</p>
-<p>There were eight entries altogether. The dogs
-were prancing about restlessly in their harnesses
-like proud race horses, their curved tails waving
-over their backs. They were charged with excitement
-and seemed eager to get started. The huskies
-on opposing teams eyed each other sullenly,
-baring their long fangs and growling deep in their
-throats. Occasionally, one would dart out of line
-and snap at another dog, but there were no fights.
-Black Titan, like the good lead dog he was,
-watched his team closely, and whenever one of
-them became too frisky and pugnacious, he would
-bark a sharp command. Immediately, the offender
-would drop his ears and quiet down.</p>
-<p>“They act almost human,” Sandy said.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_75">75</div>
-<p>“I’ll say,” Jerry agreed. “That Titan reminds
-me of Mr. Hall, my math teacher. No horseplay
-when he’s around.”</p>
-<p>Charley helped the boys arrange themselves in
-the sled, Sandy in back, with Jerry in front of him,
-sitting between his legs. “Just like on a toboggan,”
-Sandy observed. They tucked the big robe
-that covered them around their sides as Charley
-took his place behind the sled and gripped the
-handles.</p>
-<p>The sharp crack of the starter’s pistol split the
-crisp air and Charley’s bellowing “Mush! Yea,
-huskies, mush!” almost split Sandy’s eardrums.
-The figures lined up on both sides of them
-blurred rapidly as the sled picked up speed, and
-wind and snow whipped into their faces. Gripping
-the handles tightly, Charley matched the
-pace of the team effortlessly with his long strides.</p>
-<p>“He’s not going to run all the way, is he?” Jerry
-yelled to Sandy.</p>
-<p>“I guess he wants to give the team the best of it
-this early in the race. He’ll hop on when he gets
-winded.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_76">76</div>
-<p>But a half hour went by and still the driver’s
-boots pounded behind them in unbroken rhythm.
-At first the seven teams were bunched pretty close
-together on the hard-packed trail, then gradually
-the distance between them widened. Sandy kept
-glancing back as Charley urged their sled into the
-lead and finally lost sight of the nearest team as
-they rounded a hummock and entered a stretch of
-forest.</p>
-<p>“If we keep this pace up, we’ll be in Skagway
-in time for lunch,” Jerry said.</p>
-<p>The big Indian reined in the dogs when they
-reached a spot where three separate narrower
-paths forked off the main trail.</p>
-<p>“Which way do we go?” Sandy called to him.</p>
-<p>Still breathing as easily as if he had taken a
-short walk around the block, Charley answered,
-“All go to Skagway. We take middle trail. More
-snow, but less up and down.” Having made up his
-mind, Charley shouted to the dogs: “Mush!
-Mush! Mush, huskies!” And they were off again.</p>
-<p>A short time later they left the trail and went
-skimming down a windswept slope that stretched
-away into a barren icy plain. Now Charley hopped
-onto the back of the sled and rode like a Roman
-charioteer, shouting encouragement to the dogs in
-Indian. Although there was no broken trail, the
-sled rode solidly on the surface of the old snow
-crusted over thickly by the 50-below-zero cold.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_77">77</div>
-<p>“This is really living!” Jerry exulted, his voice
-trailing off eerily in the slipstream behind the
-sled. At noon they stopped to rest the dogs in the
-lee of a rock overhang. Sandy broke out a thermos
-of steaming coffee and sandwiches, and Charley
-threw the huskies some chunks of lean dry
-meat.</p>
-<p>“How far do you think we’ve come so far?”
-Jerry asked.</p>
-<p>Charley shrugged. “Twenty, maybe twenty-five
-mile.”</p>
-<p>“Say, that’s pretty good.” He looked back in the
-direction they had come from. “Where do you
-suppose those other guys are?”</p>
-<p>Charley finished his sandwich, rumpled up the
-wax-paper wrapping and set a match to it, warming
-his hands over the brief torch it created. He
-motioned to the west. “Some follow other trail.
-Maybe a few stay just in back of us. Let us break
-new trail for them. Then when our dogs tired,
-they fresh and catch us.” He cupped one hand to
-his ear. “Listen!”</p>
-<p>The boys held their breaths for a minute,
-straining to hear. They could just make out the
-sound of barking dogs floating on the wind in the
-distance.</p>
-<p>“He’s right,” Jerry said indignantly. “That’s a
-sneaky thing to do.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_78">78</div>
-<p>“No, it’s not,” Sandy disagreed. “No more than
-a track man letting another runner set the pace.”</p>
-<p>“No worry,” Charley assured them. “We win
-anyway.”</p>
-<p>“What a man you are, Charley.” Jerry regarded
-the big Indian with admiration. “We could use
-you in the fullback spot on the Valley View football
-team.” He grinned at Sandy. “I bet he could
-walk down the field with both teams on his back.”</p>
-<p>Charley squinted up at the sky abruptly. The
-ceiling seemed even lower and grayer than before.
-“It snow soon. We better go.”</p>
-<p>Sandy looked up too. “How can you tell?”</p>
-<p>“I know,” Charley said somberly. “Bad storm
-on the way.”</p>
-<p>“Oh, great!” Jerry said. “What happens if we
-get caught out in this deep freeze in a blizzard?”</p>
-<p>“There are check points every twenty-five
-miles,” Sandy recalled what the professor had told
-him. “We must be pretty close to one now, Charley.
-Think we should stop and get a weather report?”</p>
-<p>Charley nodded toward the east. “Two, three
-miles over that way. On main trail. We go there,
-we lose race. We stop at next post, at halfway
-mark. Three hours away maybe.”</p>
-<p>“I guess that’s the only thing to do,” Sandy
-agreed. “Well, let’s get moving.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_79">79</div>
-<p>Ten minutes later, the snow began to come
-down, fine granular pellets that stung like sand as
-the rising wind blasted it into their faces. Visibility
-was reduced to no more than fifty feet. Even
-the dogs were slowed down. The snow, mixed
-with the loose surface fluff of previous falls, piled
-up quickly in drifts. As it dragged at his boots
-more and more, Charley began to mutter angrily
-to himself in Indian.</p>
-<p>“I don’t like it, Sandy,” Jerry said uneasily.
-“We’re never going to make that check point before
-dark.”</p>
-<p>“At this rate we’ll never make it at all,” Sandy
-retorted. “Listen, Jerry, what do you say we get
-out and trot along with Charley? It’s bad enough
-pulling the sled by itself without our weight too.”</p>
-<p>“Good idea,” Jerry admitted. “Let’s give the
-dogs a break.”</p>
-<p>Sandy signaled Charley to stop and told him of
-their plan.</p>
-<p>“All right,” Charley agreed. “I go up front and
-break trail.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_80">80</div>
-<h2 id="c8"><span class="small">CHAPTER EIGHT</span>
-<br />Lost in a Blizzard</h2>
-<p>For the next half hour the boys were able to
-keep up with the sled. But in the ever-deepening
-snow, their legs grew heavier and heavier. At last,
-they lost sight of the sled in the swirling flakes.
-When Jerry slipped and fell, Sandy cupped his
-hands to his mouth like a megaphone and yelled:
-“Charley! Char-r-ley! Wait for us.”</p>
-<p>Gasping for breath, Jerry struggled up to his
-hands and knees. “I’ve had it, Sandy,” he gasped.
-“I can’t go any farther.”</p>
-<p>Sandy helped his friend to get up and supported
-him with one arm. “C’mon, boy, we can
-make it. As soon as we catch up with the team you
-can rest awhile in the sled.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_81">81</div>
-<p>Clutching each other tightly, they staggered
-forward, trying to follow the tracks of the sled
-runners. But before they had covered twenty-five
-feet, the blowing snow had obliterated the trail.
-Sandy continued on doggedly in the direction he
-thought the team had taken, dragging Jerry with
-him. Every few steps he would stop and call:
-“Char-ley! Char-ley!” But there was no answer—only
-the moaning of the wind and the hiss of the
-snow beating against the fabric of their parkas.</p>
-<p>Once more Jerry sagged to his knees. “We’re
-lost, pal,” he muttered. “Look, I’m exhausted. I
-can’t go a step farther. You go ahead and look for
-Charley. When you find him, you can come back
-for me.”</p>
-<p>“Don’t be crazy, Jerry. Our best chance is to
-stick together. If we keep walking, we’re bound to
-catch up to the team. Once Charley finds we’re
-gone, he’ll stop and wait for us.”</p>
-<p>Jerry’s voice cracked. “I can’t see my hand in
-front of my face. We don’t even know if we’re going
-in the right direction.”</p>
-<p>While he was speaking, a low, mournful howl
-drifted to them on the wind from somewhere on
-their left. Sandy clutched Jerry’s arm. “You hear
-that?” he said tensely.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_82">82</div>
-<p>Jerry’s voice brightened. “That must be the
-team. C’mon.” With renewed vigor, he veered off
-in the direction of the howling.</p>
-<p>Sandy grabbed him with both hands. “No,
-wait! It could be a wolf.”</p>
-<p>Jerry stopped dead. “Oh my gosh!” he murmured.
-“What are we going to do?”</p>
-<p>Sandy dusted the snow that had crusted on his
-eyebrows with the back of one mitten. “I don’t
-know. I still think we’re heading in the right direction.
-Let’s go a little farther. If we don’t find
-Charley and the team soon, we can always head
-over that way.”</p>
-<p>The snow was coming down so hard now that
-every breath was an effort. Sandy felt as if he were
-being smothered in a sea of white cotton. He
-stopped as the howling broke out again, in a chorus
-this time.</p>
-<p>“Maybe you’re right,” he said to Jerry. “That
-sure sounds like a bunch of dogs.”</p>
-<p>“Yeah, let’s give it a try, anyhow,” Jerry
-pressed.</p>
-<p>They were just about to veer off in the direction
-of the howling when they heard a familiar
-harsh rumbling directly in front of them. It was
-the unmistakable growl of a husky.</p>
-<p>“Charley!” Sandy called out. “Titan! Black Titan!”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_83">83</div>
-<p>A succession of sharp yelps knifed through the
-storm. “That’s the team all right!” Jerry cried.</p>
-<p>Miraculously, their legs seemed to find new
-strength, and they practically ran the rest of the
-way through the knee-deep snow. Directly ahead
-of them, the sled loomed out of the darkness. The
-dogs, in harness, were seated on their haunches or
-huddled low in drifts to escape the force of the
-wind. But Charley was nowhere to be seen.</p>
-<p>Jerry sagged against the back of the sled. “Oh
-my gosh! What happened to him?”</p>
-<p>“He must have doubled back to look for us and
-we didn’t see him in the storm.” Night had deepened
-the blinding downfall even more.</p>
-<p>There was a tremor in Jerry’s voice. “You don’t
-think the wolves got him, Sandy?”</p>
-<p>“No, they rarely attack a man. Especially with
-the dogs here. Besides, Charley had a rifle.” He
-rummaged through the packs on the front of the
-sled. “It’s not here, so he must have taken it with
-him.”</p>
-<p>“What do we do now?” Jerry wanted to know.
-“Go back and try to find Charley?”</p>
-<p>“That’s the worst thing we could do,” Sandy
-said emphatically. “We’d get lost but good. No,
-the best thing to do is to wait here until Charley
-gets back.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_84">84</div>
-<p>Jerry was skeptical. “I’m not sure even an old
-woodsman like Charley can find his way back in
-this soup.”</p>
-<p>“Maybe if we shout to him he’ll hear us,” Sandy
-suggested.</p>
-<p>For the next ten minutes the boys pitted their
-voices against the intensity of the raging storm.
-But even in their own ears their shouts sounded
-pitifully weak. At last they gave it up.</p>
-<p>“It’s no use,” Sandy said hoarsely. “We’ll just
-have to wait.” He crouched down in the lee of the
-sled.</p>
-<p>What seemed like hours passed and still there
-was no sign of Charley. The boys could feel the
-cold seeping through their heavy clothing and
-stiffening their limbs. They were both badly
-frightened now.</p>
-<p>“Sandy,” Jerry pleaded, “we just can’t sit here
-and do nothing. We’ll freeze to death. My nose
-and cheeks are numb now.”</p>
-<p>Sandy fought back the panic that was rising in
-him too. “If we don’t lose our heads, we’ll be okay,
-Jerry. The way it looks now, we’re going to have
-to spend the night here. Tomorrow, they’ll have
-search parties out looking for us. I bet the rest of
-the contestants are in the same boat we are.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_85">85</div>
-<p>“We’ll be stiff as washboards by then,” Jerry
-prophesied. “Frozen wolf food.”</p>
-<p>“Don’t be a nut,” Sandy snapped. “Now get up
-and help me rig up a lean-to.”</p>
-<p>“A lean-to?” Jerry said wonderingly. “What
-kind of a lean-to?”</p>
-<p>“The kind Charley says the Eskimos build on
-the trail. They fasten a big hide to the side of the
-sled that’s out of the wind and peg the other side
-down to the ice, or weight it down. The snow piles
-up against the far side of the sled, forming a solid
-windbreak, and you have yourself a cozy little
-tent.”</p>
-<p>“We don’t have any hides,” Jerry said.</p>
-<p>“We have that big rug in the sled. C’mon, let’s
-get to work.”</p>
-<p>While Sandy fastened the robe to the top of the
-sled’s guard rail, Jerry weighted the far side down
-with a pair of snowshoes he found in the sled and
-heaped up snow on top of the shoes until they
-weighted down the robe securely. When they
-were finished, Sandy scooped the excess snow out
-from beneath the robe and they had a small lean-to
-with just enough room in it to shelter two people.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_86">86</div>
-<p>“Well, that’s that,” Sandy said with satisfaction,
-brushing off his mittens. “Now I’ll unhitch the
-dogs while you get our supper ready.”</p>
-<p>The erection of the lean-to had renewed Jerry’s
-confidence. “What’ll you have?” he inquired flippantly.
-“Roast turkey with chestnut stuffing or a
-thick steak smothered with onions and a side of
-French fries?”</p>
-<p>Sandy played the game with him. “No, I’m getting
-sick of that goppy stuff. How about a couple
-of frozen sandwiches and a thermos of cold coffee?”</p>
-<p>“Just what I had in mind,” Jerry called to him
-as he rummaged through the packs on the sled.
-“Are we going to feed the huskies?”</p>
-<p>“Sure, get out some of that meat Charley keeps
-in that big tin can up front.”</p>
-<p>The dogs seemed overjoyed to see Sandy. They
-leaped about him, wagging their tails furiously
-and barking and whining.</p>
-<p>“I bet you guys are hungry,” Sandy spoke to
-them. “Keep calm. Your dinner’s coming right
-up.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_87">87</div>
-<p>When he knelt beside Black Titan to remove
-his harness, the big lead dog jockeyed obediently
-into the proper position. As soon as he
-was free, he nuzzled affectionately against the
-boy’s cheek. “Hey!” Sandy laughed. “That is the
-coldest nose I ever felt in my life.” He ruffled up
-the thick fur around the husky’s throat with his
-fingers, and was surprised to feel the soothing
-warmth deep down in the animal’s undercoat.
-“Boy, I wish I had your fur, Titan. No wonder
-you can sleep in a snow foxhole.” He pressed both
-hands against Titan’s body gratefully. “That feels
-good, old boy.”</p>
-<p>Jerry came up behind him with the can of dog
-meat. “And look what else I found.” He held out
-a bulky .45 Colt automatic. “It’s fully loaded,
-too.”</p>
-<p>The sight of the lethal-looking pistol was reassuring.
-“Dad must have given it to Charley before
-we left,” Sandy reasoned. “He asked me if I
-wanted to take a gun along, but I knew Charley
-had his rifle, so I didn’t bother. It’s a good thing
-we have it. Now maybe we can signal to Charley.
-Fire a few shots in the air to let him know where
-we are.”</p>
-<p>“Good idea,” Jerry agreed. “And I’ve got an
-even better one.”</p>
-<p>“What’s that?”</p>
-<p>“Let’s send old Titan out to find his buddy.
-Bet you he can do it.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_88">88</div>
-<p>Sandy was pessimistic. “I don’t know if he could
-pick up Charley’s trail in a storm like this, but we
-can give it a try.”</p>
-<p>While the dogs were gulping down their food,
-the boys rummaged through Charley’s gear until
-they found a heavy wool shirt that the Indian had
-recently worn. When Black Titan had finished
-eating, Sandy held the shirt under his nose.</p>
-<p>“Charley, Charley,” he kept repeating. “Go
-find Charley, Titan.” He slapped the husky on the
-rump. “Go on, Titan!”</p>
-<p>Titan began to whine as he sniffed at the shirt.
-Then he trotted off into the blizzard with his head
-down. When he had disappeared from sight, Jerry
-turned to Sandy. “Well, what do we do now?”</p>
-<p>“Eat supper and climb into our sleeping bags,
-I guess. But first I want to fire a couple of shots to
-see if we can signal Charley.”</p>
-<p>He took out the heavy automatic and levered a
-shell into the firing chamber. Pointing it up in
-the air, he pulled the trigger. The muzzle flash
-lit up the night briefly like lightning, but the shot
-was muffled by the wind and thick curtain of snow.
-The dogs milled around nervously and began to
-bark. Sandy fired one more shot, then shoved the
-gun back in the pocket of his parka.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_89">89</div>
-<p>“I bet those shots didn’t carry over five hundred
-feet. I feel as though we’re inside a vacuum. I
-don’t want to waste any more shells until this gale
-lets up a little. C’mon, let’s sack in for the night.”</p>
-<p>They gathered up the sandwiches, coffee thermos,
-Coleman stove and sleeping bags and crawled
-into the lean-to. The blowing snow had sealed up
-all the cracks and even the openings at either end
-of the makeshift shelter. Sandy burrowed through
-a drift at the rear of the sled to form an entranceway.</p>
-<p>“This back end gets less wind,” he explained to
-Jerry.</p>
-<p>The interior of the lean-to was cramped, but
-seated with their backs resting against the sides
-of the sled and their legs crossed in front of them,
-they were not too uncomfortable. Sandy pumped
-up the pressure in the one-burner gasoline stove
-and lit it. He turned the wick up abnormally high
-until the pale-blue flame became streaked with
-yellow and began to smoke slightly. Although
-this was a waste of fuel and reduced the cooking
-efficiency of the stove, it provided more light and
-warmth.</p>
-<p>“Say, this is all right,” Jerry said, grinning. “It
-reminds me of the time we went on a Boy Scout
-camping trip and slept in pup tents.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_90">90</div>
-<p>Sandy grinned. “The only difference was we
-were only a ten-minute walk away from home and
-there was a hot-dog stand across the road from the
-bivouac area.” He took a half-frozen sandwich out
-of the knapsack and passed it to Jerry. “Be careful
-you don’t break your teeth when you bite into
-it.”</p>
-<p>“Thanks, pal.” Jerry filled two aluminum canteen
-cups from the coffee thermos and sipped
-from one. “It’s lukewarm, anyway,” he commented.</p>
-<p>“I’ve got an idea,” Sandy said. “We can heat the
-cups on the stove and sit the sandwiches on top of
-the cup. That way the steam will thaw out the
-bread.”</p>
-<p>“Brilliant. If it wasn’t so cold, I’d take my hat
-off to you.”</p>
-<p>Ten minutes later, they were munching hungrily
-on a relatively decent meal. Jerry inhaled
-the steam that was rising from his canteen cup and
-sighed contentedly. “I know it must be my imagination,
-but right now I’d say this is the best-tasting
-chow I ever ate.”</p>
-<p>Sandy laughed and nodded. “We used to say the
-same thing about the mickeys we roasted in the
-corner lot when we were kids. All black with ashes
-and dirt, but boy, they sure did taste good.” He
-lowered the wick a little on the stove. “It’s probably
-the hot coffee, but I’m beginning to get
-warm in here.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_91">91</div>
-<p>“What’s wrong with being warm?” Jerry protested.
-“Turn it up as high as it will go.”</p>
-<p>Sandy frowned. “When you live in frigid temperatures
-it’s safer to feel a little cold than it is
-to be overheated, because when you cool off, the
-perspiration will turn to ice on your skin.”</p>
-<p>“Perspiration!” Jerry gawked incredulously.
-“Are you kidding?”</p>
-<p>“Well, we’re not going to take any chances. As
-soon as we’re finished eating, I’m going to turn
-off the stove altogether.”</p>
-<p>“Not until I’m snug in my bedroll,” Jerry
-begged.</p>
-<p>Sandy looked worried. “Poor Charley. He’s not
-going to be very snug tonight. No bedroll, no
-food. Gee, I wish I knew what happened to him.”</p>
-<p>“What makes it worse,” Jerry said gloomily, “is
-that it’s our fault. If we hadn’t dragged so far behind,
-he wouldn’t have had to go looking for us.”</p>
-<p>The boys finished their sandwiches and coffee
-in subdued silence, staring out into the stormy
-night through the diminishing black hole of the
-entranceway.</p>
-<p>“You know,” Sandy said suddenly, “in another
-hour we’ll be snowed in tight inside this lean-to.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_92">92</div>
-<p>Jerry surveyed the drifting snow anxiously.
-“You’re right. Like a tomb. We’ll be able to get
-out, though, won’t we?”</p>
-<p>Sandy reached over and enlarged the opening
-with one hand. “Oh, yes. It’s as light as powder.”</p>
-<p>After they had finished eating and wrapped up
-the garbage, they prepared to bed down for the
-night. “We’d better do this one at a time,” Sandy
-suggested. “We’d only be in each other’s way moving
-around in here together. I’ll go outside until
-you’re all settled. You lie with your head up at
-the front of the sled. I’ll lie the opposite way.
-That way we’ll have more room.”</p>
-<p>Crawling on hands and knees, Sandy pushed
-through the drift that was blocking up the opening.
-A furious blast of bitter cold wind took his
-breath away as he got to his feet and sent him reeling
-back from the sled. It was even warmer inside
-the lean-to than he had realized. He recalled that
-Tagish Charley had a powerful flashlight in his
-gear and walked through knee-high snow to the
-front of the sled to look for it. It would be wise to
-keep it handy in the lean-to, he decided. He
-found the light easily and turned it on to see how
-the dogs were making out. They were all huddled
-together behind the windbreak of the sled, growling
-and shifting around restlessly. As the flash
-beam swept over them, a few cringed and bared
-their fangs. Their behavior distressed Sandy, who
-had expected that by now they would all be cozily
-balled up in holes and snoring peacefully. He
-skirted around them and walked back to consult
-with Jerry. Beaming the light on the lean-to, he
-saw that the snow was mounding it over like an
-igloo. Once more he had to dig the snow away
-from the entrance before he could get in.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_93">93</div>
-<p>When he crawled inside, he saw that Jerry was
-stretched out in his sleeping bag, the hooded
-cover zipped up tightly around his head. Only his
-eyes, nose and mouth were showing.</p>
-<p>“How’s the weather outside?” he asked Sandy.</p>
-<p>Sandy shook the snow off his hood. “Same as before.
-Terrible. The dogs are acting up, too. I’m
-worried.”</p>
-<p>“Maybe they’re cold.”</p>
-<p>“I don’t think so. They act frightened.”</p>
-<p>“Me too. We’re snowbound in the Yukon.
-Charley’s missing, probably frozen to death in a
-snowdrift. Our food is about gone. What a mess!
-I’m scared plenty.”</p>
-<p>At that moment a long, mournful animal howl
-rose clearly above the intensity of the wind. Before
-it trailed off, another howl and still another
-joined it, forming an eerie chorus.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_94">94</div>
-<p>Jerry snapped upright like a jack-in-the-box, his
-face drained of blood. “Wolves!”</p>
-<p>“And close by,” Sandy said grimly.</p>
-<p>Outside, the dogs were really setting up an uproar
-now, snarling and barking frantically.</p>
-<p>Despite the seriousness of the situation, Sandy
-had to smile as he watched his friend struggling to
-get out of the sleeping bag. In his excitement,
-Jerry couldn’t work the zipper. “Get me out of
-this strait jacket!” he yelled.</p>
-<p>“Take it easy,” Sandy said. “In that bag you
-look like a big fat hot dog with a face.”</p>
-<p>“Not so loud,” Jerry cautioned him. “The
-wolves might hear you. Just hurry and get me out
-of here.”</p>
-<p>Between them they finally got the sleeping bag
-unzipped, and Jerry rolled out. Sandy took the
-Army .45 out of his pocket and checked the clip.
-There were still four shells in it.</p>
-<p>“Do we have any more ammunition for that
-cannon?” Jerry asked anxiously.</p>
-<p>“Probably up front in Charley’s gear. I’m going
-up to get it.”</p>
-<p>“I’m going with you,” Jerry said promptly.
-“One of those wolves might poke his snout in here
-while you’re gone.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_95">95</div>
-<p>They scrambled out into the blizzard and stood
-up. Sandy switched on the flashlight and swept it
-in a wide circle about them. The powerful beam
-seemed to run into a solid wall of white no more
-than fifty feet away. He turned it on the dogs,
-who were setting up such a loud racket that it
-drowned out the howling of the wolves. The huskies
-were all on their feet now, standing stiff-legged
-with their tails curled tightly beneath their bellies.
-Their lips were drawn back over their teeth,
-and the thick fur around their necks bristled like
-porcupine quills. Sandy swung the light in the direction
-of their gaze, and felt his heart flip and
-miss a beat. Glowing greenishly through the falling
-flakes was a circle of eyes. They were there for
-just an instant and then faded back out of range
-of the beam.</p>
-<p>Jerry gripped Sandy’s arm tightly. “There
-must be a whole pack of ’em. They’re just waiting
-for us to fall asleep and then they’ll jump us.”</p>
-<p>One of the huskies began to slink forward toward
-the wolves, his belly flattened close to the
-ground.</p>
-<p>“Come back here, boy!” Sandy shouted.
-“They’ll tear him to pieces,” he muttered to
-Jerry. He cocked the automatic and aimed in the
-direction of the glowing eyes. “I hate to waste
-ammo like this, but maybe we can scare them off.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_96">96</div>
-<p>He fired three shots. The last shot was answered
-by a sharp yelp of pain.</p>
-<p>“You got one!” Jerry yelled excitedly.</p>
-<p>“Shh! Listen!” Sandy said. Above the wailing
-of the storm they could hear wild snarling and
-yelping.</p>
-<p>“Sounds like they’re fighting among themselves,”
-Jerry said.</p>
-<p>The commotion ended as abruptly as it had begun,
-and although Sandy kept searching the darkness
-with the light for a long time, there was no
-further sign of the wolves. At last, when the dogs
-quieted down and curled up in burrows, the boys
-relaxed.</p>
-<p>“I guess the shots did scare them off at that,”
-Sandy decided. “Now let’s find that box of ammo
-in Charley’s pack, and then we can go back inside
-and see if we can get some rest.”</p>
-<p>“Sleep?” Jerry said. “Are you kidding? Suppose
-they come back again?”</p>
-<p>“The dogs will warn us if they do.”</p>
-<p>Jerry shivered. “Okay. But I’ll take the bed
-next to the wall, just in case.”</p>
-<p>The snow had completely blocked the entrance,
-and they had to shovel energetically to
-clear it. “Man, it’s really warm in here,” Jerry
-said as he crawled into the lean-to.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_97">97</div>
-<p>The snow wall that had built up at the other
-end of the lean-to and on the sled side was smooth
-and glistening. “Just like an igloo,” Sandy said.
-As soon as they were inside their sleeping bags,
-he turned off the Coleman stove.</p>
-<p>Jerry sighed as the little hut was plunged into
-pitch-darkness. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think
-I was back in my little trundle bed in Valley
-View.”</p>
-<p>“Go to sleep,” Sandy grunted. He was facing the
-entrance and the automatic was within easy reach
-in his side pocket. In an emergency, he knew he
-could fire right through the sleeping bag.</p>
-<p>Gradually, his eyes became accustomed to the
-darkness and he could make out the faint outline
-of the round doorway. His eyelids grew heavier
-and the hole grew smaller and smaller. Then he
-dropped off to sleep.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_98">98</div>
-<h2 id="c9"><span class="small">CHAPTER NINE</span>
-<br />Trapped in an Icy Tomb</h2>
-<p>When Sandy awoke, it was still pitch-dark inside
-the lean-to. He was about to roll over and go back
-to sleep, but he decided to see what time it was
-first. He pulled down the zipper of his sleeping
-bag, fumbled for the flashlight and flicked the
-switch.</p>
-<p>The sudden burst of light woke up Jerry.
-“Whazza matter?” he mumbled.</p>
-<p>“Go back to sleep,” Sandy told him. “It’s still
-the middle of the night.” He turned the spot on
-his wrist watch. “What the—” he exclaimed, and
-sat up, startled. He squinted at the dial again, but
-there was no mistake. It said 7:30. “That’s impossible!
-It must have stopped!” But he held it up
-to his ear and heard the steady, rhythmic ticking.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_99">99</div>
-<p>“What’s the matter with you?” Jerry, fully
-awake now, propped himself up on one elbow.</p>
-<p>Suddenly, Sandy began to laugh. “Oh, I get it.
-We’re snowed in.” He explained to Jerry. “My
-watch said it was half past seven, but I couldn’t believe
-it because it was so dark in here. It’s the
-snow; it’s blocking out the daylight.”</p>
-<p>“It’s really morning?” Jerry said doubtfully.
-“Well, let’s go out and find out.” He unzippered
-his sleeping bag.</p>
-<p>Propping the torch up in the snow, Sandy tried
-to push his head and shoulders through the drift
-that blocked the entrance. It was like running into
-a stone wall. “Ouch!” he cried. He dug at the
-snow with his fingers, but his mittens slid futilely
-off a surface that was as smooth as a skating rink.</p>
-<p>“Well, come on,” Jerry said impatiently. “Let’s
-go.”</p>
-<p>“Door’s frozen up,” Sandy told him. He sat
-down and tried to kick through the ice with his
-feet, but couldn’t dent it. He turned to Jerry.
-“Try your end. This one is plugged up solid.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_100">100</div>
-<p>“So is this end,” Jerry reported, after pounding
-away with his hands and feet for several minutes.
-“So, we’ll go out the side.” He grabbed one corner
-of the robe and tugged it loose from where
-it was anchored under the snow, while Sandy
-worked on the other corner. Then they pulled it
-aside, exposing a smooth, glittering expanse of ice
-behind it.</p>
-<p>Sandy tested it with his fist and whistled. “Like
-iron.”</p>
-<p>There was a tremor in Jerry’s voice. “What
-goes on around here? Maybe I wasn’t kidding last
-night when I called this thing a tomb.”</p>
-<p>“Take it easy,” Sandy soothed. “It’s only snow.”</p>
-<p>“Yeah, ice,” Jerry repeated. “You ever see
-them drive trucks across the ice on frozen lakes?
-I’ve seen it in newsreels. That ice is pretty rugged
-stuff.”</p>
-<p>“You got a knife?” Sandy asked. “I left mine in
-the sled.”</p>
-<p>“So did I. Say, let’s try to move the sled,”
-Jerry suggested.</p>
-<p>They both shoved and pulled at the sled for a
-long time, but it seemed welded to the spot. At
-last, Jerry sank down exhausted. “I don’t get it.
-What happened?”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_101">101</div>
-<p>Sandy played the light over the walls of the
-lean-to. “I can guess. Remember how cozy and
-warm it got in here last night? Between that stove
-and the heat from our bodies, I bet the temperature
-in here was a good fifty degrees higher than it
-was outside. The heat radiates through the snow,
-causing it to melt partially. Then it freezes up.
-That’s how the Eskimos harden the walls of their
-snow houses. They build big bonfires in them.”</p>
-<p>“Only they don’t forget to make doors in ’em,”
-Jerry said grimly. “Another thousand years from
-now, I can see a couple of geologists like your dad
-and the professor digging us out. Preserved in a
-block of ice like that baby mammoth.”</p>
-<p>“It’s no joking matter,” Sandy said. “We’ve
-got to think of a way to break out of here. One
-thing, though: they’re bound to send out search
-parties and sooner or later they’ll find the sled.”</p>
-<p>“What makes you think so?” Jerry demanded.
-“The sled is probably covered with snow by now
-and this must look like any other part of the landscape.
-And you don’t think those dogs are going to
-hang around here forever, do you? They’ve probably
-run off looking for food already.”</p>
-<p>Sandy felt his heart begin to race madly. “I
-never thought of that,” he admitted. “Well, it’s
-up to us then. What have we got that we can use
-as a chipping tool?”</p>
-<p>“Only thing I can think of that’s metal is the
-Coleman stove.”</p>
-<p>“That’s no good. No sharp edges.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_102">102</div>
-<p>They were silent for a moment, then Sandy
-snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it! The gun!” He
-took the bulky .45 out of his pocket and held it up
-in the light. “We’ll blast our way out.”</p>
-<p>Jerry looked worried. “You know what they
-say about shooting fish in a rain barrel? Well, if
-one of those slugs ever ricochets inside here, we’ll
-be dead fish.”</p>
-<p>“It’s our only chance,” Sandy said. He loaded
-the gun, cocked the hammer and nudged off the
-safety with his thumb. Holding the gun at arm’s
-length away from him, he pointed the muzzle at
-the end where the entrance had been. “Better
-make sure your hood is pulled tight over your
-ears,” he advised Jerry.</p>
-<p>“I’m all set. Let ’er go.”</p>
-<p>Sandy shut his eyes and tightened his finger on
-the trigger. The explosion reverberated like a
-bomb in the small lean-to. Sandy felt the shock
-wave slam into his face, and the recoil almost tore
-the gun out of his hand. He sat there stunned for
-a while.</p>
-<p>Jerry’s voice screaming in his ear brought
-him out of it. “Sandy, it worked!”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_103">103</div>
-<p>He opened his eyes to the most wonderful sight
-he had ever seen. A beam of sunlight was pouring
-through an opening in the ice wall. The potent,
-snub-nosed .45 slug had blasted a hole almost four
-inches in diameter. In the light of the flashlight,
-he also observed that the ice around the hole was
-shattered and veined from the shock wave.</p>
-<p>Dropping the gun back into his pocket, Sandy
-got on his knees and began to work on the opening
-with his hands. Snow and ice crumbled easily,
-and before long he had enlarged the hole so that
-he was able to squirm through. Jerry was right behind
-him. Painfully, they stood up.</p>
-<p>“Oh,” Jerry groaned. “I feel like a dog on its
-hind legs.” Looking up at the clear blue sky, he
-threw kisses into the air with both hands. “Mr.
-Sun, I never figured we’d ever see you again.”</p>
-<p>It was a perfect, cloudless day without even a
-breeze. Looking around him, Sandy realized that
-the high winds of the night before had exaggerated
-the intensity of the blizzard. Except where it
-had drifted around the sled and lean-to, no more
-than twelve inches of new snow had fallen. He
-discovered, too, that they had been traveling
-along the ridge of a low hill and had stopped on
-the most exposed spot in all the surrounding terrain.
-On either side, the ground sloped away
-gently into protected valleys thick with fir trees.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_104">104</div>
-<p>After spending hours shut up in the gloom of
-the lean-to, the boys found the sunlight on the
-snow blinding. They dug their smoked glasses out
-of their packs and put them on. The dogs crowded
-around them, yelping and wagging their tails.</p>
-<p>“I guess they’re hungry,” Sandy said. “Is there
-any meat left?”</p>
-<p>“A little,” Jerry said. He went to get the can of
-food from the front of the sled. As he threw the
-last chunks of raw horse meat to the huskies, he
-eyed it forlornly. “I’m so hungry I could eat it
-myself.”</p>
-<p>Sandy grinned. “Even some of that <i>muk-tuk</i>
-would look good to me now.”</p>
-<p>“Are the sandwiches all gone?”</p>
-<p>“We finished them last night.”</p>
-<p>They had just finished feeding the dogs when
-a faint “Ha-lo-oo-oo...” floated through the
-still air. On a distant ridge the figure of a man and
-a dog were silhouetted against the sky.</p>
-<p>“It’s Charley and Titan!” the boys yelled in
-unison. They began to leap up and down, waving
-their arms and screaming, “Charley! Over here!”</p>
-<p>Less than a quarter of an hour later, the Indian
-came plowing up the hill with Black Titan floundering
-behind him. They hugged him joyfully
-and pounded his back, and even Charley was grinning
-from ear to ear. He listened solemnly while
-they related their harrowing experiences with the
-wolves and how they had been trapped in the lean-to.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_105">105</div>
-<p>Charley had had a pretty bad time of it himself.
-He admitted that, for the first time in his life, he
-had lost his way when he went back to look for
-the boys, and had somehow mistaken east for west.
-Confused and blinded by the shifting gale winds
-and whipping snow, he had wandered off to an
-adjacent ridge. After walking around for hours,
-he had become exhausted—he had been tired out
-by running twenty-five miles behind the sled to
-start with—and erected a lean-to in a clump of
-thick pine trees in the sheltered valley. He had
-built a big fire and had fallen asleep beside it almost
-immediately. The next thing he knew, Black
-Titan was licking his face and the first streaks of
-dawn were filtering through the pine branches
-overhead. He had been searching for the boys
-when he heard the gunshot.</p>
-<p>Using the snowshoes as shovels, the three of
-them dug the sled out of the snow bank. The
-intense heat of the sun softened the hard upper
-crust and melted the ice that had formed around
-the runners. Then Charley hitched up the dogs
-and headed for the nearest check point, which
-was only a few miles away.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_106">106</div>
-<p>Their arrival created quite a bit of excitement.
-“Only one other sled has come through here,”
-a worried official told them. “The Mounties have
-planes and search parties out looking for the others.”</p>
-<p>“We saw one of the planes,” Sandy said. “He
-dipped his wings and we waved to him. So he
-knew we were all right.”</p>
-<p>“Actually, though,” the official went on, “the
-storm looked worse last night than it was. Those
-winds were gale force. I don’t imagine anyone
-was really in serious trouble. They’re all experienced
-woodsmen, accustomed to roughing it on
-the trail.”</p>
-<p>Jerry hooked his thumbs inside his belt and
-puffed out his chest. “Sure, it was a breeze.”</p>
-<p>Tagish Charley was more interested in the sled
-that had passed through the check point that
-morning. The official said the other driver had
-about one hour’s start on them.</p>
-<p>“We catch ’im,” Charley said. “Let’s go.”</p>
-<p>“Hey!” Jerry complained. “What about breakfast?
-I’m so ravenous, I’m liable to take a bite out
-of one of the dogs.”</p>
-<p>“No time to eat,” the Indian said. “We have to
-win race.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_107">107</div>
-<p>“We’ll give you some sandwiches and hot coffee
-to take along,” the official promised. “You can eat
-on the run.”</p>
-<p>Jerry stared wistfully at the platters of flapjacks,
-juicy Canadian bacon and hot biscuits on
-the stove. “If we come out of this alive, I’ll never
-look at a cold sandwich again,” he vowed.</p>
-<p>A short time later, they were racing down the
-trail. It was a good day, and by nightfall they had
-covered another forty-five miles and overtaken
-the sled ahead of them. Its driver turned out to be
-a young uranium prospector. For five years he and
-his brother had been competing in the big race.
-Two years before, they had come in first and they
-were hoping to repeat this year. They were pleasant
-young men and spent the night with Charley
-and the boys at the last check point on the route.</p>
-<p>That night, after a hearty supper, they sat
-around the fire talking to Sandy and Jerry.
-Tagish Charley went to bed as soon as he had the
-team fed and settled in the barn. About nine
-o’clock, another sled arrived at the check point,
-and the driver reported that still another team
-was camped at the side of the trail about an hour’s
-ride away.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_108">108</div>
-<p>“This is really going to be a photo finish,” one
-of the brothers said. He got to his feet and
-knocked the ash out of his pipe into the fireplace.
-“We better sack in, men. There’s going to be a
-mad scramble to get away first in the morning.”</p>
-<p>Sandy and Jerry followed them to the big dormitory
-bedroom, where a dozen army cots were
-set up around a potbellied stove that glowed a
-dull cherry-red in the darkness. Charley was already
-snoring loudly as they slipped into their
-bedrolls.</p>
-<p>“Now how are we supposed to get to sleep with
-that big lug sawing wood?” Jerry grumbled.
-“We may as well sit and ... and ... talk ...
-around ... the ... fire....” His voice trailed
-off into a pretty good imitation of a buzz saw of
-its own.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_109">109</div>
-<h2 id="c10"><span class="small">CHAPTER TEN</span>
-<br />Down the Chilkoot Chute to Victory</h2>
-<p>It seemed to Sandy that he had just closed his
-eyes when he felt rough hands on his shoulders,
-shaking him. “Time to go,” Charley’s voice whispered.</p>
-<p>“What time is it?” he mumbled, raising himself
-on his elbows.</p>
-<p>“Four o’clock,” Charley said. “Other fellers
-hitching up already.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_110">110</div>
-<p>Sandy struggled out of his sleeping bag and sat
-on the edge of the cot, stretching. It was still dark,
-but when Charley opened the stove door to throw
-on another log, he could see that the cots that the
-two brothers had slept on were empty. Yawning,
-he raised his left foot and kicked the cot where
-Jerry was still sleeping soundly.</p>
-<p>“Rise and shine!” he called to his friend.</p>
-<p>They ate a hurried breakfast of hot cereal
-and scalding coffee, and by four-thirty they were
-on the trail again. The cold wind in their faces
-and the stinging spray kicked up by the dogs’ feet
-brought them fully awake before they had gone
-far.</p>
-<p>When it began to get light, the boys got out of
-the sled and trotted along with Charley. They
-kept it up for a mile or so before Jerry developed
-a bad case of rubber legs and went down on his
-knees.</p>
-<p>“I feel like a dope,” he said, as Sandy helped
-him back into the sled. “Here we are, a couple of
-kids, puffing like steam engines, and an old guy
-like Charley isn’t breathing any harder than if he
-had run up a flight of stairs.”</p>
-<p>“And we’re in pretty good condition from being
-in school athletics. Can you imagine how
-some of the other guys in school would make
-out?” Sandy asked. “The guys who hop in the
-family car to go down to the corner newsstand and
-sneak smokes between every class?”</p>
-<p>“Yeah,” Jerry agreed ruefully. “The kids in the
-States are getting soft, there’s no doubt about it.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_111">111</div>
-<p>“My Uncle Russ always says you should take at
-least as much pride in your body as you do in your
-home. Most people wouldn’t live in sloppy, rundown
-houses, but a lot of them don’t care if they
-spend their lives in sloppy, rundown bodies.”</p>
-<p>Jerry slapped his middle irritably. “Let me tell
-you, I’m going to work on this flab when I get
-home. Old Charley here has taught me a lesson.
-You miss a lot of the fun of life if you’re out of
-shape.”</p>
-<p>Sandy kept up with Charley for another mile,
-then he got back into the sled. He noticed that the
-Indian held to a pattern: he would run along for a
-half hour or so and then hitch a ride on the sled
-for ten minutes. It seemed as if he could go on like
-that endlessly and tirelessly.</p>
-<p>They stopped at mid-morning to give the dogs a
-rest and brew some strong Indian tea. Charley
-wouldn’t drink the coffee in the thermos. “Coffee
-no good. You ever see huskies drink coffee?” The
-boys had to admit that they never had. “Indian
-tea like medicine. Make you strong and healthy.
-Dogs know.” To demonstrate, he poured a little
-into a tin plate for Titan, and the big lead dog
-lapped it up promptly.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_112">112</div>
-<p>“It sure doesn’t look as if we’re ever going to
-catch those guys ahead of us, Charley,” Sandy commented,
-dropping a handful of snow into his cup
-to cool it.</p>
-<p>Charley looked down the trail behind them.
-“They behind us now. Last hill we pass, we go
-around the long way, maybe mile longer. They go
-through valley.”</p>
-<p>Jerry blinked. “If we came the long way, how
-come we’re ahead of them?”</p>
-<p>The Indian shrugged. “That valley like pocket
-after big snow. Drifts three, four feet deep. They
-have plenty trouble getting through.”</p>
-<p>Sandy grinned. “What a sly old fox you are,
-Charley.”</p>
-<p>They were traveling high in the coastal mountains
-of British Columbia now, moving through
-the Chilkoot Pass. Just before noon, they arrived
-at a customs check point.</p>
-<p>“You’re the first team through,” the mounted
-policeman who waved them past shouted.</p>
-<p>Abruptly, the trail appeared to end at the edge
-of a cliff. Charley reined the team in and motioned
-for the boys to step to the rim of the drop-off.
-Here they saw that, in reality, the trail continued
-on down a steep incline that resembled the
-big drop on a roller coaster. For almost 1,200 feet
-it fell away at a 45-degree angle into the coastal
-valley below. It was a magnificent spectacle.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_113">113</div>
-<p>Jerry gulped hard. “We’re not going down <i>that</i>
-in a sled, are we?”</p>
-<p>Tagish Charley nodded curtly. “Chilkoot
-Chute. We take dogs off first. They follow us
-down.” He walked back and began to remove
-Black Titan’s harness.</p>
-<p>Sandy grinned at Jerry. “You ever been on a
-bobsled?” Jerry shook his head mutely. “Well,
-after this it’ll be a cinch.”</p>
-<p>When the dogs were unhitched, the boys
-climbed aboard the sled, and Charley pushed it
-to the edge of the chute. It teetered briefly, then
-nosed down the incline.</p>
-<p>“Alaska next stop!” Sandy yelled as they picked
-up speed. A rush of air choked the words off in
-his mouth, and his stomach rose up in his rib
-cage with a sickening sensation that was ten times
-worse than he had ever experienced in an elevator.</p>
-<p>Faster and faster the sled shot down the slope,
-swaying from side to side, as Charley, riding the
-tail, shifted his weight skillfully to steer it. Behind
-it the dogs skidded and scrambled down the
-chute, barking and yelping excitedly. The sled
-reached the bottom and glided down the trail almost
-half a mile before it came to a halt.</p>
-<p>“What a ride!” Jerry exclaimed.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_114">114</div>
-<p>“We must have skidded halfway to Skagway,”
-Sandy said. He got out of the sled and looked back
-at the Chilkoot Chute. “Gee, it doesn’t look so
-bad from here, but when you’re on it, you’d swear
-it was a perpendicular wall.”</p>
-<p>The dogs finally caught up and Charley hitched
-them to the sled again. “We win now easy,” he
-said matter-of-factly.</p>
-<p>As they approached Skagway, they passed cabins,
-farms and other signs of civilization. A group
-of children playing in one yard gave them a lusty
-cheer and chased after the sled. Farther along,
-other children tagged on to the caravan along
-with three dogs.</p>
-<p>Then, up ahead on the outskirts of the city,
-they saw a big crowd of people. “Finish line,”
-Charley informed them.</p>
-<p>When the sled came into view, a tremendous
-roar went up and continued unabated as they shot
-past a man waving a flag. The next thing Sandy
-knew, they were engulfed by a sea of well-wishers,
-and men were pounding him on the back so enthusiastically
-that it took his breath away. At last
-he spied his father and Professor Crowell fighting
-their way through the throng.</p>
-<p>“Dad!” he called out happily. “We made it.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_115">115</div>
-<p>Dr. Steele reached the boys and threw an arm
-around each of them. “Congratulations! This
-was quite a race, I hear.”</p>
-<p>“Charley is the guy who rates the congratulations,”
-Sandy answered.</p>
-<p>Professor Crowell pounded Tagish Charley on
-the back ecstatically. “I’m the proudest and happiest
-man in the world. I haven’t felt like this
-since my twin girls were born. Thank you,
-Charley.”</p>
-<p>Charley knelt down and put his arms around
-Black Titan, who was accepting praise and pats
-from all quarters with the dignified reserve of a
-true champion. “Dogs win the race. Charley just
-come along for ride.”</p>
-<p>Later, back at the hotel, after a warm bath and
-a good supper, the boys recounted the adventures
-they had had during the race.</p>
-<p>“Bless my soul,” Professor Crowell said to
-Jerry, “now you really have an idea of the rigorous
-life that the sourdoughs led. Does it still
-sound appealing to you?”</p>
-<p>Jerry forked the last piece of homemade apple
-pie from his plate. “I’ve come to the conclusion
-that I’m just a city boy at heart, sir,” he declared
-emphatically.</p>
-<p>“How was your visit to Fairbanks?” Sandy asked
-his father.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_116">116</div>
-<p>“We had a fine time,” Dr. Steele said. “I gathered
-some priceless material for the pamphlet
-I’m preparing on the Pleistocene Era.” He
-smiled. “But promise you won’t tell Quiz Taylor,
-Sandy.”</p>
-<p>Sandy laughed. “I know what you mean, Dad.
-My solemn word, I won’t mention it.”</p>
-<p>“What’s on the agenda now, Dr. Steele?” Jerry
-inquired. “Are we going home?”</p>
-<p>“Not for another few days, Jerry,” Dr. Steele
-said. “The professor and I want to fly up to Valdez
-and look over some old mining sites.”</p>
-<p>“Where’s Valdez?” Jerry asked.</p>
-<p>“The most northerly ice-free port in Alaska. It
-used to be the shipping point for copper ore until
-the Kennecott mines closed down in 1938. We
-had planned an exciting outing for you fellows—”
-he hesitated and looked wryly at Jerry—“but inasmuch
-as Jerry says he’s a city boy at heart, well,
-maybe we’d better forget it.”</p>
-<p>“What kind of an outing, Dad?” Sandy asked.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_117">117</div>
-<p>Dr. Steele lit his pipe and blew a cloud of
-smoke at the ceiling. “We won’t be using the
-plane for several days, and we thought you might
-like to visit Kodiak Island. One of the instructors
-from the university will be spending a week
-there, hunting bear, and he said you boys would
-be welcome to join him.” He winked at Sandy.
-“But I’m not sure your city friend here would be
-up to it.”</p>
-<p>“That’s all right,” Sandy said. “Jerry can stay
-here at the hotel until we come back.”</p>
-<p>“Not on your life!” Jerry snorted. “I want to
-take one of those bearskins back to my mom.”</p>
-<p>Tagish Charley looked up from his plate solemnly.
-“Kodiak bear plenty bad killer. Maybe he
-take your skin back to his mamma.”</p>
-<p>Everyone except Charley laughed.</p>
-<p class="tb">The next morning they boarded the big Norseman
-plane and headed northwest up the coast for
-Valdez. As they flew over the glacier-ribbed
-mountains, the boys were awed by the wild
-beauty of the country beneath them.</p>
-<p>“It’s so primitive,” Sandy remarked. “I don’t
-think man will ever tame it.”</p>
-<p>“Yes, he will,” Dr. Steele said. “As surely as
-he tamed the American West. We just didn’t pay
-much attention to it until after World War Two.”</p>
-<p>“A land of untold riches,” Lou Mayer mused.
-“Gold, copper, silver, coal, lead, tin, mercury,
-platinum—Lord knows what else.” He looked
-over meaningfully at Dr. Steele.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_118">118</div>
-<p>“Things are certainly moving fast,” Dr. Steele
-went on, a little too quickly, Sandy thought. “Oh,
-yes, Son, in another fifty years Alaska will be as
-civilized as California.”</p>
-<p>“But not nearly so warm,” Lou Mayer added.</p>
-<p>Professor Crowell smiled. “I don’t know, I like
-our northern winters. They make for greater intimacy
-among families and friends. When the temperature
-is fifty below zero and the snow is piled
-up to your window sills, there is literally no place
-like home. You discover that being together in
-front of a warm fireplace can be just as enjoyable
-as running off to the theater, bridge clubs, night
-clubs, bowling alleys and all your so-called civilized
-diversions. The trouble with so many young
-people these days is that they try too hard to have
-fun.”</p>
-<p>Jerry scratched his head thoughtfully. “Professor,
-you know, you’re right. I can’t think of
-any time in my life when I’ve had more fun than
-I did the Christmas Eve we spent at that little
-weather station.”</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele took out a small wallet calendar and
-consulted it. “Which reminds me that tonight is
-New Year’s Eve.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_119">119</div>
-<p>“Isn’t it funny how you keep forgetting about
-the holidays up here?” Sandy said. “I guess they
-see the old year out pretty quietly. Not like the
-States.”</p>
-<p>Professor Crowell’s eyes twinkled through his
-glasses. “Don’t bet on it, son. Some of the New
-Year’s parties I’ve been to in the North make
-your Stateside celebrations seem like pink teas. In
-the old days, I remember some shindigs that went
-on continuously from Christmas right through
-New Year’s.” He smiled nostalgically. “I wouldn’t
-be surprised if a few of them were still going on.”</p>
-<p>“But we’ll be spending our New Year’s on Kodiak,”
-Jerry reminded them. “I was looking at it
-on the map. It’s just a dinky little island.”</p>
-<p>“Not so dinky,” Dr. Steele said. “It’s about a
-hundred miles long, you know. And I think you’ll
-find that its citizens have just as much holiday
-spirit as the people in the States.”</p>
-<p>“Do many people live on Kodiak?” Sandy asked.</p>
-<p>“It’s not too heavily populated,” Dr. Steele admitted.
-“Once it was the center of the Alaskan
-fur trade. The Russians settled in the town of Kodiak
-in 1784, and it wasn’t until much later that
-they moved their headquarters to the mainland.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_120">120</div>
-<p>“Nowadays it’s hard to make a living on Kodiak.
-I think the only major occupation is salmon
-fishing. There’s rich farming land at the south end
-of the island, but the natives have always had difficulty
-raising sheep and cattle. Too many hungry
-bears around.”</p>
-<p>Jerry squinted down the barrel of an imaginary
-rifle. “Well, there’ll be a few less after we get
-there, eh, Sandy boy?”</p>
-<p>Tagish Charley, who had been staring moodily
-out of the window, turned his quizzical black eyes
-on Jerry. “You shoot big as you talk, everything
-be fine.”</p>
-<p>“I think you better go along and take care of
-these fellows, Charley,” the professor suggested.</p>
-<p>“That would be great,” Sandy said. “How
-about it?”</p>
-<p>Charley appeared to consider the proposition
-for a moment, then looked gravely at Sandy
-from beneath his black eyebrows. “Charley like
-to go to Kodiak. But better not. I stay and look
-out for professor.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_121">121</div>
-<h2 id="c11"><span class="small">CHAPTER ELEVEN</span>
-<br />Off to Hunt Kodiak Bears</h2>
-<p>At quarter after twelve the Norseman put
-down on the outskirts of Cordova, and the three
-geologists disembarked along with Tagish Charley.</p>
-<p>“You’ll be in Kodiak before dark,” Dr. Steele
-told the boys before he left them. “The pilot will
-radio ahead so Professor Stern can be on hand to
-meet you when you land. Be sure and bring us
-back a bearskin.”</p>
-<p>“We will,” Sandy promised. “And we’ll see you
-back here on the third of January.”</p>
-<p>“Goodbye, Doctor,” Jerry said. “And Happy
-New Year.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_122">122</div>
-<p>“Thank you, Jerry, and the same to you.” Dr.
-Steele winked. “Don’t eat too much <i>muk-tuk</i>.”</p>
-<p>As soon as the plane was refueled, they took off
-again. When Jerry began to nod drowsily, Sandy
-went up front and sat down in the copilot’s seat.</p>
-<p>Russell Parker, the pilot, was a chunky, gray-haired
-man in his late forties, a veteran of the
-World War II Air Corps. “I was stationed in the
-Aleutians for four years,” he told Sandy. “The
-place sort of grew on me. There was this girl in
-Anchorage, too. Well, as soon as the war was over
-we were married, and I decided to settle here permanently.
-I had no family ties back in the States,
-so the transition was easy.” He smiled. “You
-might say I found a home here.”</p>
-<p>“And you’ve been a bush pilot ever since?”
-Sandy said. “Boy, that must be an exciting life.”</p>
-<p>“Well, I wouldn’t call it exciting exactly. A little
-romantic maybe—everything about <i>Alashka</i> is
-romantic.”</p>
-<p>“<i>Alashka?</i>” Sandy looked puzzled. “I notice you
-always say it that way.”</p>
-<p>“It’s an ancient Aleutian term. Means the ‘big
-land.’”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_123">123</div>
-<p>“It’s big all right,” Sandy said, glancing out of
-the cockpit window. Below the plane, twin mountain
-peaks reached up through the wispy clouds.
-Cupped in the valley between them lay a gigantic
-glacier whose front was a solid wall of ice ten
-miles across and as high as a fifteen-story building.</p>
-<p>“That’s why there are plenty of jobs for bush
-pilots,” Parker explained. “We’re like taxi drivers
-back in the States. To get around in the big
-land you have to take giant steps. A quick trip to
-the city may mean a hop of a hundred miles or
-more. You should see Lake Hood on a Saturday
-morning in the summer—that’s in Anchorage, my
-home town. Hundreds of little planes.”</p>
-<p>“It looks like a supermarket parking lot,”
-Sandy finished the thought for him. “Professor
-Crowell told us.”</p>
-<p>“It’s worse. More like Times Square in New
-York.”</p>
-<p>“But since so many people up here have their
-own planes, doesn’t it cut down on your jobs?”
-Sandy wanted to know.</p>
-<p>“Not really. Most of the amateurs are pretty
-cautious, as they should be. They’ll only fly in
-perfect weather, and stick to the safe air routes.
-When there’s a tough job to be done in a hurry,
-they call on a bush pilot. I’ve carried everything
-from heavy machinery to medical supplies. I’ve
-been a flying ambulance, too; I don’t know how
-many lives I’ve helped to save in the back country.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_124">124</div>
-<p>“Do you often get assignments like this one?”
-Sandy asked.</p>
-<p>“I’ve flown my share of VIPs, but mostly it’s a
-job for military pilots.”</p>
-<p>“You consider my dad and Professor Crowell
-VIPs?”</p>
-<p>“I got that impression,” Parker said guardedly.
-He was about to add something else when a burst
-of static from the radio diverted his attention.
-“Tower at Anchorage calling us,” he told Sandy,
-adjusting his earphones. He listened, then flipped
-the switch over to transmit. “N-140 to Anchorage
-... Read you clear ... Climbing to 12,000
-feet ... Over and out.” He flipped the switch
-and reported to Sandy. “We’re climbing another
-4,000 feet. We’re heading into a snow squall off
-Kodiak, moving northeast.”</p>
-<p>Jerry awoke from his nap and came up front to
-join them. “You guys hungry? I’m going to break
-out the sandwiches.”</p>
-<p>Sandy laughed. “Is eating all you ever think
-about?”</p>
-<p>Jerry flicked Sandy’s cowlick with one finger.
-“Especially when I ride in airplanes. I have to
-keep my stomach weighted down so it won’t do
-flip-flops.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_125">125</div>
-<p>“Okay, I’ll join you,” Sandy agreed. “How
-about you, Mr. Parker?”</p>
-<p>“I’ll wait awhile,” the pilot declined. “Soon as
-we level off at 12,000, I’ll set her on automatic
-pilot.”</p>
-<p>The boys walked back to their seats and opened
-the lunchbox the hotel had prepared for them
-that morning.</p>
-<p>“I was just thinking,” Jerry said, chewing on a
-chicken leg, “we haven’t seen anything of those
-characters who took pot shots at us for a few days
-now. Think they’ve given up?”</p>
-<p>Sandy’s brow furrowed in anxiety. “I don’t
-know, Jerry. From what we know of them, they
-don’t seem to be the kind who give up so easily.
-They’ve been after the professor for months now.
-Maybe we should have stayed with them back at
-Cordova.”</p>
-<p>“Aw, what could happen to them in Cordova?
-Those birds wouldn’t try anything in the middle
-of a big town like that.”</p>
-<p>Sandy nibbled at his sandwich without relish.
-“I suppose not. But Dad and the professor are going
-to be out poking around some old abandoned
-mine sites.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_126">126</div>
-<p>The discussion ended when Parker called back,
-“I’m ready for that sandwich now. And a cup of
-coffee if you don’t mind. Black, no sugar.”</p>
-<p>“I’ll take it up to him,” Jerry said.</p>
-<p>It was still bright daylight in the air when they
-sighted Kodiak, but the island and the sea around
-it were shrouded in purple dusk. Lights began to
-twinkle on below as they circled the city of Kodiak,
-losing altitude. Towering prominently over
-the other low buildings were a pair of onion-shaped
-domes.</p>
-<p>“What’s that?” Sandy asked Parker. “They look
-almost Turkish.”</p>
-<p>“The Russian Orthodox church,” the pilot
-said. “Remember, the Russians founded Kodiak.”</p>
-<p>“How did those Russians ever get way over
-here?” Jerry wanted to know.</p>
-<p>“Boy, are you dumb!” Sandy said. “On the west
-side only a thin strip of water separates Alaska
-from Russia. The Bering Strait is only about forty
-miles wide.”</p>
-<p>Parker nodded. “In the winter you can cross it
-on a sled.”</p>
-<p>That thought seemed to sober Jerry.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_127">127</div>
-<p>Parker touched the Norseman down gently on
-its skis and reversed the propeller to brake their
-slide. As they climbed out of the plane, the figure
-of a man emerged out of the glare of the landing
-lights. Clad in fur trousers, fur hood and fur
-parka, he looked like an Eskimo. But as he approached,
-Sandy could make out a small clipped
-mustache and rimless eyeglasses.</p>
-<p>“Welcome to Kodiak,” he greeted them. “You
-must be Dr. Steele’s son.” He held out his hand.</p>
-<p>“Yes, sir.” Sandy smiled. “I’m Sandy.”</p>
-<p>“I’m Kenneth Stern.”</p>
-<p>Sandy performed introductions all around. It
-turned out that Parker and the young university
-teacher were friends. “My wife took some courses
-with Professor Stern,” the pilot explained.</p>
-<p>Stern clapped his fur mittens together. “I have
-my jeep parked over at the edge of the field. Let’s
-get back to the lodge. Dora—that’s my wife—has
-a big bear roast in the oven. I imagine you fellows
-are pretty hungry.”</p>
-<p>“You go ahead,” Parker said. “I want to make
-sure they put my baby safely to bed. I’ll hitch a
-ride to your camp.”</p>
-<p>“All right, Russ,” Stern said. “We’ll hold supper
-for you.”</p>
-<p>“What’s he got to do?” Jerry inquired as they
-walked through the crunchy snow to the jeep,
-which was almost hidden by the great cloud of
-smoke that was pouring out of the exhaust.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_128">128</div>
-<p>“He wants to make sure the crankcase gets
-drained,” Stern said. “You really do have to treat
-machinery as if it were a baby in cold like this.
-That’s why I left the jeep running. It could freeze
-up in a few minutes.”</p>
-<p>As they drove through the town of Kodiak, the
-boys were fascinated by the atmosphere. The cultures
-of three centuries and varied races were
-blended startlingly but not offensively.</p>
-<p>“It’s like being on a Hollywood sound stage
-where the sets are all mixed up,” Sandy said
-breathlessly.</p>
-<p>“Mostly, it reminds me of the Old West,” Jerry
-said. “Dodge City. I almost expect to see Wyatt
-Earp come striding down the middle of the street
-with his hands on his six-guns.”</p>
-<p>Professor Stern laughed. “That’s an apt description,
-Jerry. This is the twentieth-century
-American frontier in a sense. It’s only fitting that
-the characteristics of the frontier should predominate.”</p>
-<p>The hunting lodge was a sprawling two-story
-log building about a mile outside of Kodiak, with
-a wide porch running around it on three sides.
-Lights blazed warmly from its windows as they
-pulled in the drive and bumped along to a big
-barn at the back of the house.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_129">129</div>
-<p>“Four other teachers and myself own it jointly,”
-Stern explained. “We bought it about ten years
-ago as a summer place. The fact is, we’ve been using
-it just as much in the winter as a hunting
-lodge.”</p>
-<p>“Did I understand you to say we were having
-bear roast for supper, Professor?” Jerry inquired
-politely.</p>
-<p>“Yes. You’re not squeamish about eating it, are
-you?”</p>
-<p>“Uh, no!” Jerry assured him. “After some of
-the things I’ve been eating since I came to Alaska,
-bear sounds like steak to me.”</p>
-<p>“It’s better,” Stern told him. “You wait and
-see.”</p>
-<p>“Did you shoot the bear, sir?” Sandy asked.</p>
-<p>“No, we haven’t been out yet. This is a piece of
-meat we’ve had in the freezer since last year.”</p>
-<p>Jerry laughed. “You’re kidding. What do you
-need a freezer for up here?”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_130">130</div>
-<p>“That’s where you’re wrong, young fellow. It
-so happens that the old joke about selling ice-boxes
-to Eskimos isn’t such a joke any more. During
-the war, the Army discovered it was a lot more
-practical to keep food in freezers than it was to
-stow it in a shed outside. You see, the temperature
-drops to sixty and seventy below zero some
-nights in this country. That’s about forty to fifty
-degrees lower than the coldest deep freeze. At that
-temperature food takes hours to thaw out. In the
-freezer, it keeps just right.”</p>
-<p>Jerry shook his head. “Can you beat that! Next
-thing you know, the Arabs on the Sahara desert
-will be turning to steam heat.”</p>
-<p>They followed Stern along a path to the back
-door of the lodge. Mrs. Stern, a young woman in
-ski pants and sweater, was in the kitchen basting
-the roast when they came in. “Supper will be another
-hour yet,” she apologized. “I hope you boys
-can hold out.”</p>
-<p>“That’s good,” Stern said. “Russ Parker will be
-along later.” He turned to the boys. “Come on inside
-and meet Chris Hanson and his wife. They’ll
-be spending a few days with us too.”</p>
-<p>“Chris Hanson?” Sandy repeated it thoughtfully.
-“There used to be an All-American tackle
-by that name.”</p>
-<p>Stern grinned. “That’s our boy. He’s an athletic
-coach at the university.”</p>
-<p>“Say, that’s great!” Jerry exclaimed. “Chris was
-the best.” Self-importantly, he added, “As a matter
-of fact we have a lot in common. I expect to
-make All-American tackle myself some day.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_131">131</div>
-<p>Sandy smirked and dug his fist playfully into
-Jerry’s midsection. “You get any fatter, you won’t
-be able to bend down to flip the ball.”</p>
-<p>Chris Hanson was a brawny man who made
-even a six-footer like Sandy Steele feel like a little
-boy. He reminded Sandy of the paintings of fierce
-Vikings he had seen in grade-school history books,
-though his blond hair was a bit thin on top. His
-wife was a small, thin woman who sat as close to
-the fire as possible, despite the fact that she was
-bundled up in sweaters. The Hansons were just
-finishing a game of Scrabble when the boys arrived.</p>
-<p>“I’m a Georgia girl, you know,” Mrs. Hanson
-said in a marked Southern accent. “And I don’t
-believe I’ll ever get used to this climate.”</p>
-<p>“We have a friend who would sympathize with
-you,” Sandy told her. “Lou Mayer, my father’s
-assistant.”</p>
-<p>Chris grinned devilishly. “Oh sure, we met
-Lou when your dad came up to Fairbanks. Took
-him skiing once. I don’t think he likes me very
-much.”</p>
-<p>While they waited for supper to be served, the
-boys coaxed Chris to reminisce about some of his
-big gridiron games. Hungry as they were, it was
-an unwelcome interruption when Mrs. Stern announced:
-“Chow’s on the table.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_132">132</div>
-<p>There were seven people at the table—including
-Russ Parker, who arrived just as they were sitting
-down—and among them they picked an
-eight-pound sirloin bear steak clean.</p>
-<p>Jerry swabbed his plate clean with a crust of
-bread. “That was delicious, Mrs. Stern.”</p>
-<p>“That’s an understatement,” Sandy said, “considering
-that you had three portions.”</p>
-<p>“I know I made a hog of myself,” Jerry admitted.
-“But when I bag one of those big Kodiaks tomorrow,
-you can fill up your freezer with steaks.”</p>
-<p>Mrs. Stern smiled. “That’s very thoughtful of
-you, Jerry.”</p>
-<p>Chris Hanson looked amused. “You ever done
-any hunting before, Jerry?”</p>
-<p>“No, but I’m on the high-school rifle team back
-home.”</p>
-<p>Sandy winked at Chris. “He’s the guy they’re
-talking about when they say, ‘He couldn’t hit the
-side of a barn.’”</p>
-<p>Jerry reddened as everyone laughed, and glared
-at Sandy. “I suppose you think you’re Davy Crockett?”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_133">133</div>
-<p>“Seriously, though,” Professor Stern interjected,
-“a bear hunt can be very dangerous. Some of
-these brutes on Kodiak are virtually indestructible.
-And when they’re wounded—well, just watch
-out. There’s an old saying among hunters that
-you’ve got to kill a Kodiak with your first shot, or
-you never will kill him. I’ve heard men who have
-stalked lions, tigers—all kinds of big game—concede
-that a Kodiak is the most fearsome of all
-beasts.”</p>
-<p>“On second thought,” Jerry said gravely,
-“maybe I’ll just stay back here and play Scrabble
-with the ladies.”</p>
-<p>After supper the boys cornered Chris Hanson
-again and discussed football and other sports. At
-ten o’clock, Professor Stern drove Russ Parker
-into town.</p>
-<p>“Some of the boys invited me to a party at the
-airport,” Russ explained. “I hate to run away like
-this, but my brother-in-law is going to be there. I
-haven’t seen him in a while. He’s in the service,
-stationed in the Aleutians.”</p>
-<p>“That’s perfectly all right,” Mrs. Stern said.</p>
-<p>“You don’t fool us, Russ,” Chris Hanson kidded
-him. “You just want to sneak out of that bear hunt
-tomorrow.”</p>
-<p>Parker snorted. “You aren’t going to drag me
-off after any bears. Not unless I can hunt them
-from the air.”</p>
-<p>“When are we going back to Cordova, Mr.
-Parker?” Sandy asked him.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_134">134</div>
-<p>“I figure you can have a couple of days of hunting.
-The professor expects us back on the third of
-January.”</p>
-<p>Professor Stern asked the boys whether they
-wanted to ride into town with him and see how
-the Kodiakans celebrated the New Year, but they
-declined.</p>
-<p>“We heard they had some pretty wild times up
-here,” Jerry said. “But the way I feel, the only
-thing that would look good to me is a soft, warm
-bed.”</p>
-<p>And by twelve o’clock they were in bed. “I
-wonder what the gang is doing back in Valley
-View,” Jerry sighed as they lay in the dark listening
-to the sound of foghorns in St. Paul’s harbor
-blending with church bells and firecrackers in
-distant Kodiak.</p>
-<p>“You can bet they’re not planning to go bear
-hunting at six in the morning,” Sandy answered
-sleepily.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_135">135</div>
-<h2 id="c12"><span class="small">CHAPTER TWELVE</span>
-<br />Treed by a Wounded Bear</h2>
-<p>Professor Stern roused the boys at eight o’clock
-on New Year’s morning. “Put on two suits of long
-woolen underwear and two pairs of socks,” he instructed
-them. “We’ll probably be out until
-dark.”</p>
-<p>They dressed quickly and went downstairs to
-the big kitchen, where Chris Hanson was cooking
-breakfast. “How’ll you have your eggs, fellows?”
-he asked.</p>
-<p>“Sunny side up,” Sandy answered. “Can we
-help?”</p>
-<p>“Sure. You can start the toast.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_136">136</div>
-<p>Sandy took a handful of sliced bread out of the
-bread box and began searching through the cupboards.
-“Where’s the toaster?” he asked finally.</p>
-<p>Chris smiled and pointed to the stove. “Right
-here. Just butter the bread lightly and spread the
-slices out between the lids.”</p>
-<p>For the first time, Sandy became aware that
-the cooking stove was the old-fashioned, cast iron,
-wood-burning type; the kind you saw only in
-Western movies in the United States. A long
-tongue of flame and a shower of sparks shot up into
-the air as Chris lifted one of the front lids and set
-the teakettle over the opening.</p>
-<p>“When we first bought the place,” Chris said,
-“we planned to install one of those newfangled
-electric stoves in a year or two. But we got attached
-to this old girl. We’ve never regretted it
-either. I don’t know how many times the electric
-power has conked out for days at a time. Anyway,
-this cooks better than any gas or electric
-stove I’ve ever seen.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_137">137</div>
-<p>After they had eaten, they stacked the dishes in
-the sink and went out to the garage. Chris Hanson
-and Professor Stern were armed with .30-.30
-Winchester rifles. Stern said their neighbor down
-the road had promised to provide weapons for the
-boys. They piled into the jeep, which had been
-warming up for a half hour, and drove about two
-miles into the foothills to the ranch of Vladimir
-Thorsen, the son of a Russian-Swedish sourdough
-who had struck it rich in the gold rush. Thorsen
-was a short, rugged-looking man of fifty, with
-jet-black hair and a Vandyke beard. His English
-was precise, with just a trace of an accent. He welcomed
-the boys heartily and insisted that the men
-join him in a last cup of strong black coffee mixed
-with brandy.</p>
-<p>“I don’t think we will have to look far for our
-bear,” he announced grimly. “Two nights ago, a
-big brute came right into the barnyard and carried
-off one of my lambs.”</p>
-<p>Chris Hanson whistled shrilly between his
-teeth. “He had his nerve, didn’t he?”</p>
-<p>“A cunning old monster,” Thorsen said.
-“From the size of his footprints, I would estimate
-he weighs about 1,400 pounds. He has toes missing
-on his two forefeet.”</p>
-<p>“He’s evidently been in some battles,” Stern
-said. “And won them.”</p>
-<p>When the men had finished their coffee, Thorsen
-escorted them into his den. The walls were
-covered with pistols and rifles and the mounted
-heads of every kind of big game imaginable. The
-rancher took down two big, unwieldy, ancient-looking
-rifles and handed them to the boys. “Here
-are your weapons.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_138">138</div>
-<p>Sandy and Jerry couldn’t help but show their
-disappointment. “They’re very nice guns, sir.”
-Sandy made an effort to sound appreciative. “But—what
-are they?”</p>
-<p>“They look as if they were left over from the
-Revolutionary War,” Professor Stern said tartly.
-“What are you trying to pull on these kids, Thorsen?”</p>
-<p>Thorsen stroked his pointed beard and cast a
-reproving eye on the instructor. “You are an
-American teacher and you don’t recognize this
-magnificent rifle! It is a Sharpe’s buffalo gun, the
-same kind that your Buffalo Bill killed 1,800 buffalo
-with. I’m ashamed of you, Kenneth.”</p>
-<p>“It’s only single-shot, too,” Jerry observed critically.</p>
-<p>“With a gun like that you only need one shot,”
-Thorsen said. “You could drop an elephant with
-one shot.” He opened a drawer of his desk and
-took out a handful of enormous cartridges. “See?”</p>
-<p>Chris Hanson picked one up and hefted it in
-his palm. “It’s a small artillery shell.” He grinned
-at the boys. “You want to trade? I’d feel plenty
-safe facing Mr. Bear with this cannon.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_139">139</div>
-<p>“No,” Jerry answered quickly. “If it was good
-enough for Buffalo Bill, it’s good enough for me.”
-He picked up one of the long rifles and balanced
-it on his shoulder. “Hup-two-three-four....” He
-staggered around the room. “Hey, doesn’t a
-weapons carrier come with this thing?”</p>
-<p>The rancher smiled, showing two rows of
-strong, white teeth. “You are a very funny fellow,”
-he said. “Maybe the bear will die laughing....
-Come, the horses are already saddled and waiting.”</p>
-<p>Jerry’s face clouded over. “Horses?” he said.</p>
-<p>“Yes, we may have to go ten or fifteen miles
-into the hills.” He led them out of the den,
-through the kitchen and out the back door.</p>
-<p>The boys fell behind as they approached the
-stables. “Have you ever ridden a horse before?”
-Jerry whispered to Sandy.</p>
-<p>“Sure, I’m a fair rider.” Realization suddenly
-dawned in his eyes. “You’ve ridden before—haven’t
-you?”</p>
-<p>“Only on the merry-go-round,” Jerry said miserably.
-“But don’t say anything. I don’t want to
-spoil the party.”</p>
-<p>“Well ...” Sandy was uncertain. “I suppose
-we’ll be walking the horses mostly, so you can’t
-get into too much trouble.”</p>
-<p>“Sure, we can hang back and you can instruct
-me in the fine points of horsemanship.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_140">140</div>
-<p>An Indian groom brought the horses out of the
-stable. They were much sturdier animals than the
-ones Sandy had rented at any riding academy—more
-like cowboy ponies. They wore Western
-saddles, too.</p>
-<p>“They’re all mares,” Thorsen explained. “Not
-too high-spirited and very manageable. Good
-mounts for tracking.”</p>
-<p>Jerry’s eyes were round as he and his horse
-confronted each other. “This is the closest I’ve
-ever been to one,” he confided to Sandy. “I never
-realized they were so big.”</p>
-<p>“You won’t have any trouble,” Sandy assured
-him. “She’s a gentle girl.” He stroked the smooth
-flanks and the muscles rippled beneath the glossy
-black coat. “Come on, I’ll give you a lift.”</p>
-<p>Jerry mounted without difficulty and settled
-himself comfortably in the big saddle with his
-feet planted in the stirrups. “Nothing to it,” he
-said.</p>
-<p>Sandy grinned. “Nothing to a jet plane either,
-while it’s sitting in the hangar. Here.” He
-handed Jerry’s rifle up to him.</p>
-<p>“What do I do with it?” Jerry demanded.</p>
-<p>Sandy indicated a large leather sheath that was
-fastened to the right side of the saddle. “Stick it
-in the saddle boot.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_141">141</div>
-<p>They rode out single file, with Thorsen’s horse
-breaking trail through knee-deep snow across a
-broad meadow behind the ranch house. A long
-split-rail fence ran along the back of the property.
-Thorsen pointed out a break in the fence, where
-the heavy logs lay scattered around like jackstraws
-and a six-inch post was snapped off at the base.</p>
-<p>“That’s where he came through.”</p>
-<p>From the break in the fence a wide path, which
-looked as if it had been plowed by a small bulldozer,
-led up a slope into a grove of spruce trees.</p>
-<p>“It won’t be much of a problem tracking him,
-will it?” Chris Hanson said.</p>
-<p>Thorsen shrugged. “It depends. We’re protected
-from the wind in the valley. Farther up in
-the mountains, the trail may be covered over by
-now. It’s been two days.”</p>
-<p>Professor Stern swung down off his horse and
-knelt to examine the bear’s footprints, which had
-been almost obliterated by blowing snow. He
-brushed away some of the fine, white powder with
-his mitten. Abruptly, he looked up at the rancher.
-“Did any one of your hands take a shot at this
-fellow?”</p>
-<p>Thorsen frowned. “Certainly not. Why?”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_142">142</div>
-<p>Stern pointed to faint, rust-colored streaks in
-the snow between the imprints of the bear’s foot
-pads. “Looks like blood to me. Probably a
-wound, high on the leg, and the blood trickled
-down between the toes.”</p>
-<p>“Maybe he hurt himself when he broke
-through the fence,” Sandy suggested.</p>
-<p>“That’s possible,” Stern conceded. He walked
-back and inspected the broken logs carefully. Finally,
-he shook his head. “No sign of blood here.
-I’m afraid our bear has been the victim of a careless
-hunter.”</p>
-<p>Thorsen scowled fiercely and muttered something
-in a guttural foreign tongue. Then he exploded
-in English. “I would like to get my hands
-on that filthy pig!”</p>
-<p>“I don’t get it,” Jerry said to Sandy. “What’s
-he so excited about? That’s the whole idea, isn’t
-it, to shoot the bear?”</p>
-<p>“Sure, but once you wound an animal, it’s your
-obligation to finish him off. That’s the first commandment
-of hunting. First of all, it’s cruel to let
-an animal suffer. And when you’re dealing with
-big game, it’s downright dangerous. A pain-crazed
-bear, for instance, can be a menace to anything
-that comes anywhere near him.”</p>
-<p>“That’s right,” Chris Hanson agreed. “We’re
-going to have to stay on our toes from here on.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_143">143</div>
-<p>Professor Stern swung back into the saddle and
-they followed the bear’s trail into the woods.
-There were great, towering ancient pines, clustered
-together so that their heavy foliage meshed
-to form a solid roof above the forest floor. Only a
-fine dusting of snow had filtered through their
-heavy branches onto the thick carpet of pine needles
-that cushioned the earth. The horses’ hoofbeats
-were barely audible as they picked their way
-between the trees, which were bare for at least
-twenty feet up.</p>
-<p>“It’s like being in a cathedral,” Sandy said reverently.
-The voices of the men ahead sounded
-embarrassingly loud in the silence beneath the
-pines.</p>
-<p>A pine cone skittered out from under the hoof
-of Jerry’s horse and rattled across the dry needles.
-Jerry started and almost slipped out of the saddle.</p>
-<p>“Watch it, boy,” Sandy cautioned him. “How is
-it going, anyway?”</p>
-<p>“I’ll be okay, once old Dobbin and I get ourselves
-co-ordinated. Every time he goes up, I’m
-coming down and vice versa.”</p>
-<p>Sandy grinned. “You’re too tense. Relax and try
-to imagine you’re part of the horse.”</p>
-<p>“I know what part I feel like,” Jerry said wryly.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_144">144</div>
-<p>On the other side of the grove they picked up
-the bear’s trail again. It headed up a steep, rocky
-hillside, dotted with patches of scrubby trees and
-huge boulders. The horses had slippery footing
-and they went very slowly now.</p>
-<p>Thorsen took his rifle out of the saddle boot,
-levered a shell into the chamber and rested it
-across the saddle in front of him. The other men
-followed suit.</p>
-<p>Professor Stern turned and smiled reassuringly
-at the boys. “Don’t be alarmed. It just
-doesn’t pay to take any chances. I’ve heard of these
-wily old bears doubling back on their trail and
-setting up an ambush for unwary hunters.”</p>
-<p>Jerry swallowed hard and cast a nervous glance
-back over his shoulder. “Maybe it wasn’t such a
-good idea to bring up the rear.” His horse skidded
-unexpectedly on a mound of loose stones and
-Jerry clutched it frantically around the neck with
-both arms, burying his face in the thick mane.
-When the horse had steadied itself again, he
-straightened up and settled himself gingerly in
-the saddle.</p>
-<p>He touched one hand to the seat of his pants
-and moaned. “How can one part of you feel so
-hot when the rest of you is so cold?”</p>
-<p>Sandy was sympathetic. “Yeah, I feel for you,
-pal. That old saddle gets pretty hard after a while.
-And this is a rough way to get initiated to horseback
-riding to begin with.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_145">145</div>
-<p>They rode on for another half hour until they
-came to a shallow ravine with a dense growth of
-white birch trees and underbrush. Thorsen studied
-the steep rocky slopes of the ravine carefully.
-Except for a light dusting of snow they were wind-blown
-clean, as was the rocky shelf on the other
-side.</p>
-<p>“I can’t see any sign of a trail. For all we know,
-he may be hiding down there in those trees,” he
-said.</p>
-<p>Professor Stern nodded in agreement. “It’s possible.
-I’d hate to run into a Kodiak in those close
-quarters. What do we do now?”</p>
-<p>“We play it completely safe,” Thorsen replied.
-“Some of us can ride around the ravine—it’s no
-more than a quarter of a mile to the north—and
-see if we can pick up his trail on the other side. If
-we do, we can assume he’s not waiting to pounce
-on us in the ravine. Those who remain here can
-safely ride across directly.”</p>
-<p>“Why don’t we all ride around together?” Chris
-wanted to know. “What’s the point of leaving anyone
-here?”</p>
-<p>Thorsen stroked his silky beard. “Because if
-Mr. Bear <i>is</i> hiding in the ravine, we have him
-trapped. One group can flush him out into the
-guns of the other group.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_146">146</div>
-<p>“That seems sound,” Stern acknowledged.
-“Which of us will stay here?”</p>
-<p>“Jerry and I will,” Sandy volunteered. “Both
-of us are pretty tired, and it’ll give us a chance to
-rest.”</p>
-<p>“All right,” Stern said. “Better make sure your
-guns are ready for action in case that bear surprises
-you.”</p>
-<p>As the three men rode off along the edge of the
-ravine, the boys dismounted and tethered their
-horses to a bare, crooked sapling. Sandy sat down
-on a boulder with his buffalo gun across his knees,
-but Jerry remained standing.</p>
-<p>“I may never sit down again,” he told Sandy.</p>
-<p>Soon the three men passed out of sight where
-the ravine curved back behind a ridge, and the
-boys turned their attention to the birch trees below
-them.</p>
-<p>“Think our bear is down there?” Sandy asked.</p>
-<p>“Naw, I bet he’s miles away from here by now.”</p>
-<p>The words were scarcely out of Jerry’s mouth
-when the sound of a rock clattering down the far
-side of the ravine jerked their eyes upward. Standing
-beside a big boulder on the rocky shelf facing
-them was the biggest bear they had ever seen in
-their lives. His long, shaggy fur was tipped with
-silver, and on his underside it almost brushed the
-ground. The monster seemed oblivious of their presence.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_147">147</div>
-<p>“I don’t think he sees us,” Sandy whispered to
-Jerry. “They have very poor eyesight. And we’re
-upwind of him so he can’t smell us.”</p>
-<p>But the horses caught the scent of the bear and
-began to whinny and stamp their hoofs in terror.
-The big Kodiak’s ears went up and he lifted his
-head, probing the air with his sensitive snout.
-Slowly he reared up on his hind legs.</p>
-<p>Jerry couldn’t restrain a gasp of astonishment
-and wonder. “Wow! Will you look at the size of
-him! He must be ten feet tall if he’s an inch.”</p>
-<p>When the bear stood erect, Sandy could see a
-red, matted spot on his left shoulder. “Someone
-shot him all right,” he said. He pressed his lips
-firmly together and lifted the big rifle to
-his shoulder. “Well, here goes.” Then he added,
-“You take a bead on him too, Jerry, in case I
-miss.”</p>
-<p>“I’m so jittery, I don’t think I <i>could</i> hit the side
-of a barn,” Jerry answered breathlessly. Nevertheless,
-he brought up his rifle.</p>
-<p>“It’s an easy shot,” Sandy told him. “Only
-about forty yards. I’ll try for a head shot. You aim
-just below the left shoulder. And take off your
-mittens, idiot.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_148">148</div>
-<p>Sandy squinted down the long barrel, fixing the
-sight on a spot directly between the bear’s eyes.
-Very gently he squeezed the trigger. There was
-a tremendous explosion and a numbing blow
-against his shoulder that sent him somersaulting
-backward off the boulder. He lay there stunned
-for an instant. Then Jerry grabbed the front of
-his parka and pulled him to his feet.</p>
-<p>“What a recoil,” Sandy mumbled.</p>
-<p>“Forget the recoil!” Jerry was hopping up and
-down in excitement. “You got him! Look! One-shot
-Steele, that’s you. Bet you could have made
-a chump out of Buffalo Bill.”</p>
-<p>Sandy focused his bleary eyes across the ravine.
-The Kodiak was just a big mound of motionless
-fur sprawled out on the ground.</p>
-<p>“Come on!” Jerry pulled at Sandy’s arm. “Let’s
-hurry over there so we can make like big-game
-hunters when those other guys show up.” Using
-his rifle as a staff, he started down the slope into
-the ravine.</p>
-<p>Sandy caught up to him at the bottom and
-grabbed the rifle away from him. “Don’t ever do
-anything like that again!” he snapped. “You
-dope! You might have blown your head off—or at
-least your hand. This is a loaded gun. You’ve got
-to have respect for it. Never point it at yourself or anyone else.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_149">149</div>
-<p>Jerry flushed and dropped his eyes. “Yeah,
-you’re right. It was a dopey thing to do. I’m so
-crazy excited I forgot.”</p>
-<p>“Okay.” Sandy handed the rifle back to him and
-they crashed through the brush and brambles
-that grew among the trunks of the birches.
-Scrambling up the far slope, Sandy was aware of
-a heavy weight banging against his right hip. He
-slipped his hand into his pocket on that side and
-touched the cold metal grip of the Colt automatic.
-He had forgotten about it when he packed the
-heavy parka away after the sled race.</p>
-<p>He had just withdrawn his hand from his
-pocket when Jerry, who was in the lead, reached
-the top of the ravine. As his eyes cleared the rim,
-he stopped short and let out a wild yell. Then the
-bear lumbered into full view, looming over Jerry
-like a cat over a very small mouse. The monster’s
-red-rimmed eyes blazed with hatred and Sandy
-could see pink foam gleaming on the long, bared
-fangs. It came to him as an incredible shock that
-here they were face to face with the most dangerous
-living thing in all the world—a wounded,
-pain-crazed Kodiak bear.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_150">150</div>
-<p>“Jerry! The gun! Shoot!” Sandy spat the words
-out jerkily.</p>
-<p>Obeying mechanically, Jerry swung the long
-barrel up and fired in the same motion. The
-slug plowed harmlessly between the bear’s legs,
-kicking up dirt and gravel. But it turned out to be
-a lifesaving shot. Caught off balance, Jerry was
-kicked off his feet by the booming recoil and went
-tumbling head over heels down the steep grade.
-At the same time Sandy drew out the big .45 pistol
-and cocked it. Then, as the bear dropped to all
-fours, with the obvious intention of attacking,
-Sandy fired at its hairy throat. The Army Colt
-.45-caliber packs a tremendous wallop. At such
-close range, it knocked the giant Kodiak back on
-its haunches.</p>
-<p>Sandy pumped the last bullet into the bear’s
-midsection, then turned and ran down the slope.
-Jerry was just getting to his feet when he reached
-the bottom of the ravine. “Find a tall tree and
-climb it,” Sandy yelled. “Come on!”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_151">151</div>
-<p>Together they stumbled into the woods. Sandy
-remembered that on their way over they had
-passed one gnarled birch with a trunk as big
-around as a man’s waist. In the manner of so many
-trees of this species, it had branched out into
-three thick, sturdy limbs at a height of about four
-feet. Without breaking his stride, Sandy leaped
-up, planted one foot in the crotch and clawed and
-shinnied his way up through the branches. He
-kept climbing until the limb began to bend beneath
-his weight. Then, with his heart fluttering
-like a frightened bird, he looked down, half expecting
-to see his friend in the embrace of the
-great bear. There was no trace of either Jerry or
-the Kodiak.</p>
-<p>“Here I am,” Jerry’s voice rang out, so startlingly
-close that Sandy almost lost his hold on
-the branch. The sight of Jerry swaying back and
-forth on an adjacent limb at least five feet above
-him, arms and legs wrapped tightly around it like
-a monkey, made him weak with relief. In spite
-of their precarious position, he had to smile.</p>
-<p>Jerry was appalled. “He’s hysterical. Stark, raving
-mad,” he cried. “Sandy! Snap out of it.”</p>
-<p>“I’m fine,” Sandy said. “It’s just that I didn’t
-expect to see you up there.”</p>
-<p>“Where did you think I’d be? Back there, Indian-wrestling
-with old Smokey so you could escape?”</p>
-<p>“I don’t know how you got up there so fast. I
-didn’t even see you pass me.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_152">152</div>
-<p>“Brother,” Jerry said huffily, “if you had been
-as close to that critter as I was you’d be back in
-Valley View by now.”</p>
-<p>As yet there was still no sign of the bear on the
-ground below them. Sandy searched the rocky
-shelf where they had encountered him, but it was
-empty. The clatter of horses’ hoofs drew his attention
-back to the side of the ravine they had
-come from. Professor Stern and the other two
-men came galloping into view and reined in their
-horses.</p>
-<p>“Here, in the tree!” Sandy hailed them.
-“We’re up in the tree.”</p>
-<p>Stern’s face reflected his relief—and not a little
-amazement. “What on earth are you doing in a
-tree? And what were those shots we heard?”</p>
-<p>“We shot the bear. Then he came to life again
-and chased us up here.” Sensing the professor’s
-understandable confusion, he grinned. “I guess
-that sounds pretty wild, doesn’t it?”</p>
-<p>“Indeed it does,” Stern admitted. “But never
-mind that. Where is the bear now?”</p>
-<p>“I don’t know.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_153">153</div>
-<p>Thorsen and Chris Hanson were already starting
-down into the ravine, rifles ported for action.
-Stem dismounted and followed them. Cautiously
-the men made their way through the trees. Before
-they reached the far side of the ravine the boys
-lost sight of them.</p>
-<p>After several minutes of complete silence,
-Sandy began to get anxious.</p>
-<p>“Maybe that old bear was hiding behind a
-tree,” Jerry suggested, “and clobbered each one
-of them as they went by him, like the Indians
-used to do.”</p>
-<p>Finally they heard Stern’s voice calling to
-them. “You guys can come down now.”</p>
-<p>Sandy was puzzled. “That’s funny. I guess the
-bear got away after all.” He slid hurriedly to the
-ground.</p>
-<p>When they emerged from the birch grove, both
-boys stopped dead. Sandy shut his eyes tight,
-opened them, shut them, and opened them again.
-He couldn’t believe what he saw. The three men
-were standing at the bottom of the slope, all flashing
-broad grins. At their feet was the mountainous
-carcass of the bear.</p>
-<p>“You—you sure he’s dead?” Sandy stammered.</p>
-<p>“Yeah,” Jerry said. “He’s a tricky one.”</p>
-<p>Thorsen jabbed his toe into the shaggy body.
-“Quite dead, I assure you, my young friends.”</p>
-<p>“We had just reached the end of the ravine
-when we heard the shots,” Professor Stern said.
-“Now tell us what happened.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_154">154</div>
-<p>Both talking at once, the boys recited the story
-of their escapade with the big Kodiak.</p>
-<p>“You remember that old movie <i>King Kong</i>,
-where the girl first sees this giant gorilla?” Jerry
-asked. “Well, that’s how I felt when this thing
-came at me. Oh broth-er!” He shuddered.</p>
-<p>Sandy took out the black Colt pistol. “And this
-is what saved our lives.”</p>
-<p>Thorsen took it from him and examined it admiringly.
-“A true gem. Do you know how this gun
-was developed? During the Philippine Insurrection,
-American troops were being demoralized by
-fierce Moro tribesmen, savage warriors who carried
-wicked bolo knives. The Moros would pop up
-out of the jungle without warning and attack the
-soldiers at such close quarters that it was impossible
-for them to use their rifles. And the Moros
-were so physically powerful that the average pistol
-couldn’t stop them. Even with a half dozen
-bullets in them, they could decapitate an enemy
-with their bolos before they died. The Army Colt
-.45 was designed especially to stop them. And it
-did the job well—with one slug.”</p>
-<p>“It certainly stopped this monster,” said Chris
-Hanson.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_155">155</div>
-<p>“But it was a very lucky shot,” Professor Stern
-tempered his praise. “The first shot you fired
-with the rifle creased his skull and stunned him.
-He was probably still whoozy when you ran into
-him, or you might not have had a chance to get in
-a second shot. Your last shot severed the jugular
-vein. It was a very lucky shot,” he emphasized.</p>
-<p>“You don’t have to convince me, Professor,”
-Sandy said soberly. “As of now I am a retired bear
-hunter.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_156">156</div>
-<h2 id="c13"><span class="small">CHAPTER THIRTEEN</span>
-<br />The Ghost Mine</h2>
-<p>Two days later the Sterns and the Hansons
-came down to the airstrip to see the boys off. Professor
-Stern promised to send the bearskin to Valley
-View as soon as it was cured. “It will make a
-nice trophy to spread out in front of your fireplace,”
-he told Sandy.</p>
-<p>“I think I’ll donate it to our local boys’ club,”
-Sandy said.</p>
-<p>“And every time a new fellow joins up, he’ll
-have an excuse to tell what a big hero he is,”
-Jerry joked.</p>
-<p>Sandy laughed. “I bet I looked like a big hero
-up in that tree all right.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_157">157</div>
-<p>Russ Parker appeared in the doorway of the
-plane. “All revved up and ready to go. You fellows
-set?”</p>
-<p>The boys said their last goodbyes and climbed
-into the cabin.</p>
-<p>Mrs. Stern waved and yelled, “Thanks again for
-refilling my freezer.”</p>
-<p>“We’ll eat it up the next time we come,” Jerry
-said.</p>
-<p>Parker slammed the door and bolted it, then
-went forward to the cockpit. “Fasten your safety
-belts,” he ordered. The little plane took off
-smoothly and climbed over the bay. Through the
-window next to him, Sandy caught a last glimpse
-of the twin domes of the Russian church and the
-ancient sea wall with its great iron rings where
-the fur traders used to tie up their ships. The sun
-sparkled on the blue water and glinted briefly off
-the metal oil tanks of the U.S. naval base far
-across the bay. Parker leveled off at 10,000 feet
-and set a northeast course.</p>
-<p>Sandy unbuckled his seat belt and went up front
-to the cockpit. “How long will it take to fly to
-Cordova?” he inquired.</p>
-<p>“With this tail wind no more than two hours,”
-Parker said. “We should be landing a little after
-ten. Your dad and the professor want to fly back
-to Juneau this afternoon.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_158">158</div>
-<p>Sandy nodded. “From there we’re taking a commercial
-airline back to Seattle.”</p>
-<p>Parker put the ship on automatic pilot and
-turned sideways in the seat. “Not driving back
-down the highway?”</p>
-<p>“No. Professor Crowell decided the trip was too
-rugged in the winter. He’s leaving his dogs up
-here until spring. Anyway, Jerry and I have to get
-back to school, so we were planning to fly back in
-any case.”</p>
-<p>Listening to the conversation with one ear,
-Jerry looked up from the book he was reading.
-“Hey, Sandy, back in Valley View the guys are
-just steeling themselves for a session with Miss
-Remson in English Four. Isn’t that great? And
-here we are three thousand miles away and two
-miles in the air. Think we’re safe from her?”</p>
-<p>“Sure,” Sandy said. “And Miss Remson would
-probably be just as glad if you stayed that far
-away from her.”</p>
-<p>Parker pointed out a range of mountains just
-visible on the northwest horizon. “Too bad you
-don’t have time to visit the Valley of Ten Thousand
-Smokes.”</p>
-<p>“That’s an interesting name. What is it?”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_159">159</div>
-<p>“Before Mount Katmai erupted in 1912 it was
-a fertile farm region. Then the whole top of the
-mountain blew off—two cubic miles of rock vaporized
-into thin air. One hundred miles away in
-Kodiak they had to shovel the dust and ashes off
-the roof tops.”</p>
-<p>Sandy whistled. “That’s as bad as having an H-bomb
-drop in your back yard.”</p>
-<p>“Maybe worse,” Parker said grimly. “Then the
-entire floor of the valley erupted into little fumaroles,
-or volcanic potholes, that spewed out
-molten sand. Thousands of them. That’s where
-they got the name Ten Thousand Smokes. Today
-there are only seven of them that are still
-active, but the valley is a desert wasteland.”</p>
-<p>Sandy squinted through the windshield, imagining
-he could see a thin ribbon of smoke rising
-from one of the peaks. “What happened to old
-Mount Katmai? Is it still active?”</p>
-<p>“Well, the experts think it’s still boiling way
-down inside. There’s a big lake in the crater now,
-but it never freezes. I’ve heard it’s warm enough
-to swim in.”</p>
-<p>Jerry, who had come forward to listen to the
-story, was wonderstruck. “Why, I bet you could
-land a plane on the lake and find out,” he said.</p>
-<p>“It’s a thought,” Parker agreed, not too enthusiastically.
-“Maybe some day I’ll try it.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_160">160</div>
-<p>For the remainder of the trip, he captivated the
-boys with other tales about the big land, and almost
-before they knew it they were approaching
-Cordova. The traffic was light and the tower gave
-them immediate clearance to land.</p>
-<p>A quarter of an hour after the plane touched
-down, they were on their way to town in the auto
-of a radio technician who was going off duty. Russ
-Parker remained at the field to give the Norseman
-a thorough inspection before the afternoon
-flight to Juneau. “We’ll take off about one, I
-guess,” he told them as they were leaving.</p>
-<p>The considerate radio man dropped them off in
-front of the old-fashioned hotel where Dr. Steele
-had said they would be staying. The clerk at the
-desk informed them that the geologists were still
-registered, but that he had not seen them since
-the previous morning.</p>
-<p>“Are you certain they didn’t come back when
-you were off duty?” Sandy asked him.</p>
-<p>“Positive,” the clerk declared. “The chambermaid
-said their beds haven’t been slept in.”</p>
-<p>Sandy looked at Jerry helplessly. “Well, I guess
-we’ll just have to wait for them.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_161">161</div>
-<p>The clerk gave them a passkey to one of the two
-adjoining rooms occupied by Dr. Steele and his
-party. When they entered the room, the boys
-were surprised to see that the geologists hadn’t
-even started to pack. Clothing, books and toilet
-articles were scattered everywhere.</p>
-<p>Jerry looked at his wrist watch. “We’re never
-going to take off for Juneau at one o’clock at this
-rate. It’s after eleven now. Are you sure you didn’t
-get the days mixed up, Sandy? Maybe your father
-wasn’t expecting us until tomorrow.”</p>
-<p>A little seed of fear began to grow inside of
-Sandy. “No, he said the third. Professor Crowell
-told Russ he wanted to fly to Juneau today, too.
-I can’t understand it, Jerry. If Dad didn’t expect
-to be here when we got back from Kodiak, he
-would have left word for us. Anyway, they
-couldn’t have been planning to make any overnight
-trips. They didn’t take razors, toothbrushes
-or anything; my dad shaves every morning even
-when he’s on a fishing trip miles from civilization.
-I don’t like it, Jerry.”</p>
-<p>Jerry’s face turned pale under its perpetual
-tan. “Sandy, you don’t think those enemy agents...?”
-He left the sentence unfinished.</p>
-<p>Before Sandy could reply, the telephone on the
-stand between the twin beds jangled harshly. The
-boys looked at each other hopefully.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_162">162</div>
-<p>“Maybe that’s Dad calling.” Sandy threw himself
-across one of the beds and picked up the
-receiver eagerly. But it was Russ Parker phoning
-from the airfield.</p>
-<p>“I don’t think it’s anything to worry about,”
-Parker said, “but I just found out that your dad
-and his friends chartered a plane yesterday morning
-to fly out to McCarthy. That’s an old ghost
-town near the abandoned Kennecott copper
-mine. When they didn’t show back last night, the
-authorities figured they had been forced down
-somewhere with engine trouble. Search planes
-have been combing the area all morning, but
-there’s no sign of the plane, crashed or otherwise.”</p>
-<p>“What do you think we should do, Russ?”
-Sandy asked in a tight voice.</p>
-<p>“I dunno. I sort of thought we might fly out
-that way ourselves and have a look.”</p>
-<p>“That’s a good idea, Russ. Jerry and I will be
-out as soon as we can hitch a ride. Thanks for calling.”
-He slammed down the receiver and related
-the latest development to Jerry. Minutes later
-they were on their way.</p>
-<p class="tb">As they swooped low across the small ghost
-town of McCarthy, Parker banked the plane
-sharply and indicated the unblemished expanses
-of white around the town. “No one has set down
-here since before the last snow,” he said.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_163">163</div>
-<p>“Is there anywhere else they might have
-landed?” Sandy asked.</p>
-<p>“Maybe up at the mine proper. We’ll fly up
-that way and have a look.”</p>
-<p>“Imagine having a ghost town up here,” Jerry
-marveled. “I thought they were exclusive to the
-old American West. It’s kind of spooky, everyone
-packing up and leaving a place. Almost as if it was
-haunted.”</p>
-<p>“Ghost towns are haunted in a sense,” Sandy
-said. “By poverty and hunger. They’re towns that
-build up around mines and have no other livelihood.
-If the mines close down they’re doomed.”</p>
-<p>“Any community that puts all its eggs in one
-basket runs the risk of becoming a ghost town,”
-Parker put in.</p>
-<p>“Why did the Kennecott mine shut down?”
-Sandy asked curiously.</p>
-<p>“The ore just ran out,” Parker said. “Here we
-are now.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_164">164</div>
-<p>Below them Sandy saw a sprawling shedlike
-structure that seemed to be hanging on the side of
-a hill. “That’s the main building,” Parker said.
-“See those long wires that look like trolley cables?
-They used to send the ore down from the shafts
-by cable car. Then it was loaded on trains and
-shipped to Cordova to be put on ships.”</p>
-<p>On a level plateau below the Kennecott mine,
-they spotted the long twin ski marks of a plane.
-There were two sets, one set almost parallel to the
-other.</p>
-<p>“No doubt about it,” Parker said. “A plane
-landed here recently. And it took off again.” He
-brought the Norseman’s nose up and began
-climbing.</p>
-<p>“But if they took off again, where <i>did</i> they go?”
-Sandy was sick with fear. The idea of his father
-lying badly injured—or worse—in the wreckage
-of a crashed plane terrified him. “If—if they had
-cracked up, the search planes would have found
-them by now, wouldn’t they?”</p>
-<p>Parker chewed thoughtfully on his underlip.
-“I would think so. Unless they wandered outlandishly
-far off course. But there isn’t any reason
-why they should have. The last two days and
-nights have been perfect for flying.” Ominously,
-he added, “But we can’t discount that possibility
-altogether. There’s so much territory to cover
-even with an air search that a small plane might
-be missed. In Canada they insist that private
-planes follow well-traveled routes like the Alaska
-Highway instead of flying the beam, for that very
-reason. If you have to make a forced landing,
-there’s a better chance you’ll be found promptly.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_165">165</div>
-<p>“Listen,” Sandy implored the pilot, “let’s land
-here and look around. Maybe we’ll find a clue or
-something to show where they went.”</p>
-<p>Parker shrugged. “Sure, if it’ll make you feel
-any better. But if they were here, they definitely
-took off again.”</p>
-<p>Parker landed the Norseman smoothly, cutting
-across the ski tracks of the other plane. He taxied
-to the far end of the clearing, turning her
-about in position for a take-off, then cut the engines.
-The plane settled heavily in the snow.</p>
-<p>“Looks pretty deep out there,” Parker estimated.
-“We better dig out snowshoes from the
-baggage compartment.”</p>
-<p>They had landed about a quarter of a mile away
-from the main building of the mine, and because
-of the boys’ inexperience on snowshoes it was a
-slow walk.</p>
-<p>“I feel just like a duck,” Jerry grumbled as he
-brought up the rear, flopping along in the clumsy,
-webbed footgear. “Overgrown tennis rackets,
-that’s all they are.”</p>
-<p>“You’re not supposed to try and walk the way
-you do in shoes,” Sandy instructed him. “You just
-shuffle along.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_166">166</div>
-<p>At last they stood beneath the big ramshackle
-structure. It <i>was</i> spooky, Sandy had to admit to
-himself, just as Jerry said. Once this building had
-been the nerve center of a booming industry,
-buzzing with activity and life. Now it stood on the
-hillside, gaunt, decaying and silent. Before many
-more years it would become a rickety skeleton.</p>
-<p>He shuddered as Parker led them up on the
-moldy loading platform and into the tomblike
-dampness of the shed. “We can go on up to the
-main building through here. There are stairs
-right inside.” They passed through a doorway
-into a room illuminated only by the slivers of daylight
-that penetrated the cracked boards.</p>
-<p>Suddenly, Russ Parker did an about-face and
-began talking. “Well, here we are.” Only he
-seemed to be talking to someone in back of them.</p>
-<p>Sandy whirled quickly and saw that the doorway
-was blocked by a huge man wearing a stocking
-cap and a plaid mackinaw. His face was hidden
-in shadow. But the big Lüger pistol in his right
-hand was very plain to see.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_167">167</div>
-<h2 id="c14"><span class="small">CHAPTER FOURTEEN</span>
-<br />The Plot Revealed</h2>
-<p>In his other hand the stranger carried a square
-electric lantern. He turned the powerful beam on
-Sandy and Jerry. “Did you have any trouble with
-them, Parker?”</p>
-<p>“Not a bit,” Parker said. “The Steele boy suggested
-himself that we land here. And of course
-there was no trouble at all persuading him to fly
-out here with me.”</p>
-<p>The boys looked from Parker to the other man
-in bewilderment. “Russ,” Sandy pleaded, “tell
-us what’s going on. Who is this guy?” He turned
-on the stranger belligerently. “Do you know
-where my father is?”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_168">168</div>
-<p>“My name is Kruger,” the man snapped. “And,
-yes, I do know where your father is. Now, turn
-around and march up those stairs.” He waved the
-pistol at them threateningly.</p>
-<p>As the boys started up the stairs, the men fell
-behind and lowered their voices. “How do you
-like that!” Jerry declared. “Russ Parker is in with
-these characters.”</p>
-<p>“I can hardly believe it,” Sandy said miserably.
-“Anyhow, at least I know Dad is okay—so far,” he
-amended.</p>
-<p>“No conversation, please,” Kruger ordered
-sharply.</p>
-<p>“Parker, you sneak,” Sandy said bitterly, “you
-won’t get away with this. The authorities know
-my dad and his friends are missing. And when we
-don’t show back at the airfield there’ll be even
-more search planes combing this area.”</p>
-<p>The pilot began to laugh. “No one knows your
-father and the others are missing. No one at all.
-By now the hotel has received a telegram from
-Skagway saying that Professor Crowell and his
-party returned there on urgent business and that
-someone will pick up their luggage and pay their
-hotel bill.”</p>
-<p>Sandy was confused. “But—but what about the
-people at the airport? You said there were search
-planes out looking for the missing plane.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_169">169</div>
-<p>“There is no missing plane. Yesterday morning
-four men rented a plane. Last evening the plane
-returned—with four men. There was another
-crew on duty at the airport. They couldn’t suspect
-that the passengers were four <i>different</i> men.”</p>
-<p>Kruger seemed to enjoy the boys’ discomfort.
-“By the time the American authorities discover
-that any of you are missing you will be well out of
-reach in Siberia.”</p>
-<p>“Across that narrow stretch of water we were
-talking about,” Parker taunted them. “The Bering
-Strait.”</p>
-<p>The man with the gun took them through
-a series of tunnels that slanted up steeply through
-the mountainside. The ascent was severe, and
-every ten minutes or so they would stop to
-rest. When they emerged into the open again,
-Sandy saw that they were at the site of the main
-diggings. The terrain was pockmarked with shafts
-and tunnels. Rusty train tracks disappeared into
-the gloomy mine tunnels, and abandoned dump
-cars tilted up through the snow drifts about the
-entrances. Far below, the main building of the
-Kennecott mine squatted at the foot of the mountain;
-from this perspective it reminded Sandy of
-a miniature cardboard house sitting on a floor of
-cotton beneath a Christmas tree. They followed
-a path around a bend to the mouth of a huge tunnel.
-To one side of it a flaking, rusted cable car
-rocked gently from a metal cable that was equally
-rusted. It scraped and screeched monotonously at
-the slightest gust of wind.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_170">170</div>
-<p>“In here,” Kruger ordered. “This was one of
-the main shafts of the mine.”</p>
-<p>They walked along the rail ties back about one
-hundred yards, where a rectangle of yellow light
-splashed into the corridor from a doorway in one
-wall of the tunnel. Kruger motioned them
-through the doorway into a big chamber that evidently
-had served as a locker room for the miners.
-Rotting wooden benches and tin lockers cluttered
-up the room, many of them overturned, all of
-them sagging. A large gasoline lantern burned on
-a long wooden table in the middle of the room.
-On either side of the table sat a strange man with
-a rifle across his knees. Across the table, seated all
-in a row on a bench, their hands and feet tied,
-were Dr. Steele, Professor Crowell, Lou Mayer
-and Tagish Charley.</p>
-<p>“Dad!” Sandy burst out. “Am I glad to see you!
-Are you okay?”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_171">171</div>
-<p>Dr. Steele managed a strained smile. “I’m all
-right, Son. We all are. But I can’t say I’m glad to
-see you boys.” He turned to one of the men with
-the rifles. “Did you have to drag them into it,
-Strak? They’re only boys. They don’t even know
-what this is all about.”</p>
-<p>The man he addressed, a short, intense fellow
-who moved with the quick, nervous motions of a
-squirrel, stood up and walked toward the new arrivals.
-He stopped in front of Sandy and stroked
-his prominent clean-shaven chin.</p>
-<p>“So this is your son, Dr. Steele? A fine-looking
-lad.” He spoke careful, formal English. “I, too,
-regret that he and the other youth had to become
-involved. But we couldn’t take any chances. They
-would have notified the police that you were missing
-and....”</p>
-<p>“Don’t be a fool!” Professor Crowell snapped.
-“The police will discover our absence soon
-enough.”</p>
-<p>Strak smiled patiently. “I disagree. Secrecy has
-been the keynote of your project. Only a few
-people in both your governments—high officials—know
-your real purpose in coming to Alaska.
-By the time they discover you are missing, we will
-all be safely out of the country.”</p>
-<p>“Of course, Dr. Steele, you could spare your
-son and his friend a lot of unnecessary hardship
-by co-operating with us,” Kruger said. “Just the
-answer to one simple question....”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_172">172</div>
-<p>“You’re wasting your time,” Dr. Steele said
-flatly.</p>
-<p>“Have it your own way.” Strak sighed wearily.
-“You will tell us, you know. That is certain. Today,
-tomorrow, next week or six months from
-now. We can wait.”</p>
-<p>Kruger pushed the boys toward the bench
-where the other hostages were seated. “Parker,
-help me tie these two up.”</p>
-<p>When the boys were securely bound, Strak motioned
-Parker to follow him. “Come, Parker. Let
-us go outside. We have a few things to discuss in
-private.”</p>
-<p>“You want Malik and me to stay here and guard
-the prisoners?” Kruger asked.</p>
-<p>Strak hesitated a moment, then shook his head.
-“No, come along. You should all hear this.” He
-glanced at the prisoners. “I don’t think they’ll get
-loose.” He smiled. “And even if they did, where
-would they go? We’ll be up at the entrance—the
-only entrance.”</p>
-<p>The four men left the room and their footsteps
-echoed off down the tunnel. In the dim light of
-the lantern Dr. Steele’s face was drawn and pale.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_173">173</div>
-<p>“I’ll never forgive myself, getting you boys
-mixed up in this,” he said. “Once I knew they
-were on to us, that we hadn’t deceived them into
-thinking this was an innocent geological expedition,
-I should have sent you back to California on
-the first plane.”</p>
-<p>“Don’t blame yourself, Dad,” Sandy said quietly.
-“I wouldn’t have left you, knowing that you
-were in some kind of serious trouble.”</p>
-<p>“That goes for me too, sir,” Jerry backed him
-up.</p>
-<p>“What I don’t understand,” Sandy said, “is how
-they caught you.”</p>
-<p>“We walked right into their hands,” Professor
-Crowell explained. “Parker knew we were coming
-up to the Kennecott mine and tipped them off.
-They flew up ahead of us, hid their plane in the
-trees and covered up the ski tracks. When we arrived
-they were waiting for us.”</p>
-<p>“A whole gang of them,” Lou Mayer put in.
-“Seven of them, armed to the teeth. Four of them
-took our plane back to Cordova so the people at
-the airport wouldn’t report us missing.”</p>
-<p>“I know,” Sandy said grimly. “They took care
-of the hotel too. By the time the authorities get
-suspicious it will be too late. The one called Kruger
-says we’ll be in Russia by then.”</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele and Professor Crowell looked at
-each other hopelessly. “Unless we tell them what
-they want to know,” Dr. Steele said.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_174">174</div>
-<p>Sandy’s eyes were puzzled. “Just what are they
-after? I guess you can tell us now.”</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele smiled wanly. “I guess we can.” He
-paused before he went on. “Although he’s better
-known as a geologist, Professor Crowell is one of
-Canada’s leading physicists. During World War
-Two he was assigned to rocket research work for
-the Canadian Army and continued to specialize in
-this field after the war.</p>
-<p>“About six months ago an old Yukon prospector
-submitted an ore sample to a government
-assay office at Whitehorse. He said he had
-been prospecting on the Alaskan border and
-struck what he believed was a vein of gold. An
-analysis of the sample revealed traces of copper,
-but no gold. But much more important, it revealed
-strains of a rare element that the Canadian
-government was testing as a catalytic agent in top-secret
-experiments with a new solid rocket fuel.</p>
-<p>“For years now rocket experts have acknowledged
-that solid fuels are more practical than liquid
-propellants—even more so for the big manned
-rocket ships of the future. The trouble is, up until
-now the solid fuels haven’t been too dependable.
-Professor Crowell believes this new element
-will solve the most serious drawbacks, but unhappily
-it’s about as rare as uranium. During the
-past few months there have been teams out searching
-for it all over the Dominion, without much
-success.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_175">175</div>
-<p>“Then, unexpectedly, this old prospector
-shows up with an ore sample laced liberally with
-it. The assay office at Whitehorse dispatched it to
-Ottawa immediately and Professor Crowell was
-consulted. It was his opinion that they were on to
-something big. A special agent flew up to Whitehorse
-to interview the prospector, but tragically—any
-way you look at it—the poor old man had
-passed away from pneumonia only a few days before
-the agent arrived.</p>
-<p>“Now the big problem was to find out where
-the dead man had picked up the ore. All kinds of
-soil and rock analyses were made on it without
-any specific results. It was the professor’s guess
-that it came from somewhere in the vicinity of the
-Kennecott copper mine. There was copper in
-the sample, of course, and the old miner had
-mentioned vaguely at the assay office that he had
-discovered it somewhere ‘on the border.’ A layman
-couldn’t be expected to know exactly where
-the border lies; actually, he may have wandered
-well into Alaska.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_176">176</div>
-<p>“In any case, the Canadian government conferred
-with Washington, and it was decided to send
-a joint team up to Alaska composed of Professor
-Crowell, Lou Mayer and myself.” He glanced toward
-the doorway and added sourly, “We didn’t
-count on it ending up a three-nation team.”</p>
-<p>“How did they find out?” Sandy wanted to
-know.</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele shrugged. “They have the most efficient
-espionage system in the world. That we
-have to give them credit for.”</p>
-<p>Sandy pursed his lips solemnly. “But they still
-don’t know what the element is?”</p>
-<p>“Or how it’s employed in the manufacture of
-the rocket fuel,” Professor Crowell declared emphatically.
-“I’m the only one who can tell them
-that. And I’ll die first.”</p>
-<p>“Watch it,” Jerry cautioned. “I think I hear
-them coming back.”</p>
-<p>The sound of approaching footsteps reverberated
-hollowly through the mine. Strak appeared
-in the doorway alone. “Kruger and Malik have
-gone down the mountain to help Parker clear a
-runway,” he told them. “We’ll be taking off with
-a heavy load.”</p>
-<p>Sandy made a quick mental count. “That plane
-will never get off the ground with ten of us.”</p>
-<p>Strak smiled. “I agree. But there are only seven
-of us who will be making the trip.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_177">177</div>
-<p>“What do you mean?” Dr. Steele demanded.</p>
-<p>“Just that you and your son and Professor
-Crowell are the only ones who have any real value
-to us. The rest will remain here.”</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele was shocked. “You can’t intend to
-leave them tied up in this mine? They’ll starve to
-death or die of exposure.”</p>
-<p>Strak shrugged. “That’s a risk we will have to
-take. Perhaps in time they may be able to get
-loose. Perhaps they will make it back to civilization.
-Who can tell? The Indian seems to be a resourceful
-woodsman.” He walked over and stood
-in front of Tagish Charley. “Tell me, Doctor, he
-<i>is</i> alive, isn’t he?”</p>
-<p>Tagish Charley’s face betrayed no trace of emotion.
-He had not spoken a word since the boys’
-arrival. All the while he had sat stiffly on the
-bench, hands behind him, eyes staring fixedly at
-the rock wall in front of him—as detached as any
-cigar-store Indian could be, or so it seemed to
-Sandy.</p>
-<p>In sudden irritation Strak bent close to Charley,
-flashing his electric torch into his face. “You
-insolent Indian dog! You can speak, can’t you?”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_178">178</div>
-<p>Then, for the first time, Charley showed some
-sign of life. Slowly he lifted his eyes to Strak’s
-face and said solemnly, “Charley too busy to talk—until
-<i>now</i>!” As he shouted the last word, his
-two powerful arms whipped free from behind him
-and wrapped around his tormentor.</p>
-<p>Strak tried desperately to bring up his rifle,
-but he was helpless in Charley’s grizzly-bear hug.
-The air whistled out of his lungs like a wheezing
-bellows, and there was the distinct snap of a rib
-cracking. He moaned softly and fainted. Charley
-let him drop to the floor.</p>
-<p>“Atta boy, Charley!” Jerry said exultantly.</p>
-<p>They all winced as the Indian held up his
-hands in the light. His wrists were raw and bleeding
-from rubbing at the rope. “Big spike in bench
-where I sit. Slow work, but at end I saw rope
-through.” He bent over Strak and removed a
-hunting knife from the man’s belt. Quickly he cut
-through the ropes that bound his own ankles.
-Then he went along the bench freeing the others.</p>
-<p>“Come on!” Dr. Steele said, grabbing up
-Strak’s rifle from the ground. “No time to lose.
-The others will be coming back soon.” He led
-the way out of the room and down the tunnel to
-the entrance.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_179">179</div>
-<p>At the foot of the mountain beyond the abandoned
-mine building, they could see the plane sitting
-like a toy in the snow. The three enemy
-agents were bustling around it, mere specks at
-this distance.</p>
-<p>“They’re still working on the runway,” Sandy
-observed.</p>
-<p>“What do we do when they come back?” Jerry
-asked.</p>
-<p>Lou Mayer indicated the rifle the doctor was
-holding. “We have one gun. We can make a fight
-of it at least.”</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele was not enthusiastic. “All three of
-them are armed. I’m afraid it wouldn’t be much
-of a fight.” His voice was grim. “Some of us would
-be hurt—or killed.”</p>
-<p>“Why couldn’t we rush down the hill when we
-see them start up?” Professor Crowell suggested.
-“They’d be inside, coming up through the shafts.
-By the time they got up here, we’d have quite a
-head start on them. If we get to that plane—”</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele shook his head. “We’d never stand a
-chance without snowshoes, and they’re all down
-at the mine shed. They’d have a field day picking
-us off with their rifles while we flounder through
-those hip-deep drifts on the mountain.”</p>
-<p>“Then we’ve got no choice,” Lou Mayer said
-gloomily. “We’ve got to make a stand here.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_180">180</div>
-<p>“Wait a minute!” Sandy cried out, the bud of
-a wild inspiration forming in his mind. “Is there
-any chance <i>that</i> thing still works?” The others followed
-his gaze upward to the old cable car creaking
-and rocking to the right of the entrance.</p>
-<p>The professor sighed. “I’m afraid not. These
-cable cars were operated by power machinery
-down at the depot.”</p>
-<p>“I know,” Sandy said. “But we’d be coasting
-downhill.”</p>
-<p>There was a gleam of interest in Dr. Steele’s
-eyes. “That sounds logical. What do you say we
-have a look at it, Son? But keep down. We don’t
-want Kruger and the others to spot us against the
-snow.”</p>
-<p>They slunk out of the shadow of the mine entrance,
-darting quickly behind the cover of the
-cable car. Dr. Steele climbed into the open cab
-and squinted up at the rigging. “Looks to me as if
-the only thing that’s restraining it is that safety
-lock,” he said.</p>
-<p>Sandy disagreed. “What about the pulley cable?
-That must be anchored in the shed below. She
-won’t roll unless that’s free.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_181">181</div>
-<p>Dr. Steele studied the arrangement of rollers
-and cables more closely. “You’re right,” he admitted.
-He pointed to the steel hook-eye at the
-back of the car where the pulley cable was attached.
-“The wire is pretty frayed back here. Possibly
-we could hack through it. I saw an old ax
-back in the cave.”</p>
-<p>“It’s sure worth a try,” Sandy said. “How do
-you think that overhead cable will hold up when
-we start rolling downhill?”</p>
-<p>“I’d say it’s in pretty good condition. They put
-a good coating of grease on all the machinery before
-they shut the mine down. They must have
-hoped to use it again, or possibly to sell it.”</p>
-<p>Professor Crowell’s voice rang out urgently
-from the tunnel entrance. “Hurry up! Kruger
-and the others are starting back.”</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele pulled Sandy down out of sight in
-the car. “We’ll stay here until they enter the
-shed.” He called over to Tagish Charley, “Charley,
-duck back into the mine and get a couple of
-those picks that are lying around.”</p>
-<p>Peering over the rim of the cable car, Sandy
-watched the three men make their way on snowshoes
-back to the mine. As soon as they had disappeared
-into the shed, Dr. Steele shouted for the
-others. “Come on, we’ve got to work fast. Charley,
-over here with those picks, quickly!”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_182">182</div>
-<p>Lou Mayer, Professor Crowell and Jerry scrambled
-aboard the car while Dr. Steele gave instructions
-to Tagish Charley. “You work on the hook-eye
-and pulley, Charley. I’ll knock out the safety
-lock. The rest of you just pray.”</p>
-<p>One solid blow tripped the safety lock, and the
-car moved forward about a foot until the taut cable
-stopped it. The cable itself was more of a
-problem. Sandy had the uncomfortable sensation
-that his leaping heart was trying to squirm out of
-his throat and escape from his body.</p>
-<p>The tension was unbearable as Charley
-pounded away at the pulley with strong rhythmic
-strokes of the ax. At first it seemed impervious to
-the dull blade. Then, with relief, Sandy saw one
-strand snap with a musical twang. Charley swung
-harder, encouraged by this success, and another
-strand broke. Each strand that let go put additional
-stress on the remaining strands, making
-Charley’s task a little easier. The last two snapped
-together with a loud report.</p>
-<p>The car shuddered and began to roll forward
-slowly. There was the nerve-shattering screech of
-metal against metal as the overhead rollers and
-the main cable protested violently at being used
-so rudely after twenty-one years of inactivity.
-Snow, rust and metal shavings cascaded down on
-the car’s occupants as it picked up momentum.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_183">183</div>
-<p>The boys let go with a tremendous cheer and
-Professor Crowell and Dr. Steele shook hands solemnly.
-Sandy glanced behind them at the rapidly
-diminishing tunnel entrance, but as yet there was
-no sign of Kruger and the other two enemy
-agents.</p>
-<p>Fortunately the pitting of the cable and the
-rust and stiffness of the rollers reduced their acceleration
-sufficiently so that they crashed into
-the bumpers at the foot of the incline with only a
-moderate jolt. The cable car split the rotting
-wood on the bumper’s face, but the springs behind
-it cushioned the jolt.</p>
-<p>Sandy extricated himself from the mass of
-scrambled limbs gingerly. “Everybody okay? No
-broken bones?”</p>
-<p>There was a chorus of relieved okays.</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele climbed out into the snow. “All
-right. Into the shed and on with those snowshoes.”
-Apprehensively, he looked up the mountain,
-but the enemy agents still had not appeared.</p>
-<p>As Sandy strapped on the great clumsy snowshoes,
-he made a suggestion. “Let’s take the other
-four pairs with us. That will slow them up even
-more if they try to follow us.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_184">184</div>
-<p>“Good idea,” Tagish Charley grunted. “But I
-got better one.” He picked up the ax he had carried
-with him from the cable car and began to
-attack the surplus snowshoes furiously. When he
-had demolished them, he straightened up and, to
-everyone’s amazement, grinned broadly. “They
-no go very far now.”</p>
-<p>They were halfway to the plane when a distant
-gunshot came to them faintly through the thin,
-dry air. Turning, Sandy could make out three ant-like
-specks on the mountainside near the tunnel
-where they had been held prisoner.</p>
-<p>“They’ve discovered we’re gone,” he said.</p>
-<p>“And they’re shooting at us,” Jerry commented
-nervously.</p>
-<p>“We’re not in much danger at this range,” Professor
-Crowell assured them. “Without telescopic
-sights, it would take a mighty lucky shot to hit
-anyone.”</p>
-<p>Nevertheless, they were all greatly relieved
-when they were seated snugly in the cabin of the
-plane and Professor Crowell had the motors gunning
-smoothly. “Those fellows did a mighty fine
-job on this runway,” the professor said charitably.
-He advanced the throttle and the ship glided
-ahead smoothly. They cleared the trees at the far
-end of the clearing with plenty of room to spare
-and climbed in a sweeping curve that took them
-over the mountain. Far below on the snowy slope
-they could see the frustrated agents hopping
-about and shaking their fists in the air.</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_185">185</div>
-<h2 id="c15"><span class="small">CHAPTER FIFTEEN</span>
-<br />Final Victory</h2>
-<p>“They’ve caught the entire gang!” Dr. Steele
-reported excitedly as he burst into the boys’ hotel
-room at Cordova a little after eight the next
-morning.</p>
-<p>Sandy sat up and massaged the sleep from his
-eyes. “No kidding, Dad. When?”</p>
-<p>“Army Intelligence moved in on Strak, Parker
-and the other two at dawn. They gave up without
-a fight. Seems they put in a pretty rough night.
-Strak was in bad shape, thanks to Charley, but
-he’ll live to stand trial for espionage.”</p>
-<p>“What about the rest of the gang?”</p>
-<p>“The local police arrested them as they were
-trying to board a freighter at Valdez. It’s a clean
-sweep.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_186">186</div>
-<p>“Wow!” Jerry was awake now, his eyes as big
-and shiny as tin plates. “That’s what I call action.”
-Grinning, he added, “We sure could have used a
-little bit of that kind of action yesterday. Where
-were all the cops and G-men then?”</p>
-<p>“In an operation like this one,” Dr. Steele explained,
-“they had to stay way out on the fringes
-until the last moment. That was a risk we knew
-we’d have to take from the start if we hoped to
-spring a trap on this gang of ruthless saboteurs. If
-we had an army of bodyguards dogging our footsteps,
-they never would have been lured in.”</p>
-<p>“Lured in?” Sandy was perplexed. “You mean
-we were sort of decoys for the spies?”</p>
-<p>“In a way,” Dr. Steele admitted. “I couldn’t tell
-you that, even yesterday. But now it’s officially
-okay to let you in on it.”</p>
-<p>“But what about the rocket fuel Professor
-Crowell was working on? I thought we came up to
-look for some rare element.”</p>
-<p>“That of course was our primary reason for
-coming to Alaska. And of course we’ll continue to
-search for Element X. But when the enemy agents
-began to hound us so persistently, we saw an opportunity
-to make a double killing.”</p>
-<p>Jerry stretched. “Only we came awful close to
-being the ones who were killed.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_187">187</div>
-<p>“We had a narrow scrape,” Dr. Steele agreed.
-“It was ingenious of them to take back the plane
-to Cordova after they ambushed us at the mine.
-Our people were holding back, of course, and it
-really threw them off the trail. As far as they
-knew, we had checked back into the city and then
-disappeared into thin air. With a bit more luck
-the gang might have smuggled us out of the
-country.”</p>
-<p>Jerry laughed. “Hey, Sandy, can you see us
-going to school in Siberia?”</p>
-<p>“Frankly, no,” Sandy told him. “You have
-enough trouble with English.”</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele broke in with “That reminds me.
-We have to think of getting you boys back to Valley
-View. You don’t want to miss too much more
-school.”</p>
-<p>“Speak for yourself, Doctor,” Jerry crowed.
-“How can you expect us to go back and associate
-with little school kids after battling Yukon blizzards,
-Kodiak bears and spies? It’s positively undignified.”</p>
-<p>Dr. Steele smiled tolerantly. “Don’t feel that
-way, Jerry. Remember, adventure and excitement
-may be just around the corner, whether
-you’re in Alaska or California.”</p>
-<div class="pb" id="Page_188">188</div>
-<p>“Yeah, that’s right,” Jerry said thoughtfully.
-Then he added, with a gleam in his eye, “Besides,
-it’ll be great to come up with our story when
-Pepper March starts spouting about that cruise
-he was supposed to take. Boy, will <i>his</i> eyes pop!
-And you know what? We might even be able to
-stump Quiz Taylor. Wouldn’t that be something?
-Okay, Valley View, here we come! How about it,
-Sandy?”</p>
-<p>Sandy stretched blissfully. “I’m ready. In fact,
-I’m way ahead of you. How about next summer?”</p>
-<div class="box">
-<h3 id="c16">SANDY STEELE ADVENTURES</h3>
-<p class="center rubric">1. BLACK TREASURE</p>
-<p>Sandy Steele and Quiz spend an action-filled summer
-in the oil fields of the Southwest. In their search for oil
-and uranium, they unmask a dangerous masquerader.</p>
-<p class="center rubric">2. DANGER AT MORMON CROSSING</p>
-<p>On a hunting trip in the Lost River section of Idaho,
-Sandy and Mike ride the rapids, bag a mountain lion,
-and stumble onto the answer to a hundred-year-old
-mystery.</p>
-<p class="center rubric">3. STORMY VOYAGE</p>
-<p>Sandy and Jerry James ship as deck hands on one of
-the “long boats” of the Great Lakes. They are plunged
-into a series of adventures and find themselves involved
-in a treacherous plot.</p>
-<p class="center rubric">4. FIRE AT RED LAKE</p>
-<p>Sandy and his friends pitch in to fight a forest fire in
-Minnesota. Only they and Sandy’s uncle know that
-there is an unexploded A-bomb in the area to add to
-the danger.</p>
-<p class="center rubric">5. SECRET MISSION TO ALASKA</p>
-<p>A pleasant Christmas trip turns into a startling adventure.
-Sandy and Jerry participate in a perilous dog-sled
-race, encounter a wounded bear, and are taken as
-hostages by a ruthless enemy.</p>
-<p class="center rubric">6. TROUBLED WATERS</p>
-<p>When Sandy and Jerry mistakenly sail off in a stranger’s
-sloop instead of their own, they land in a sea of trouble.
-Their attempts to outmaneuver a desperate crew are
-intertwined with fascinating sailing lore.</p>
-<p class="center"><b>PUBLISHED BY SIMON AND SCHUSTER</b></p>
-</div>
-<h2 id="tn">Transcriber’s Notes</h2><ul><li>Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public domain in the country of publication.</li>
-<li>Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and dialect unchanged.</li>
-<li>In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.)</li></ul>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
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-
-
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text-indent:-2em; } + dl.blist, dl.biblio { margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; max-width:25em; } +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 50320 ***</div> + +<div class="img"> +<img id="coverpage" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Secret Mission to Alaska" width="500" height="776" /> +</div> +<p class="center">SANDY STEELE ADVENTURES</p> +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Black Treasure</span> +<br /><span class="sc">Danger at Mormon Crossing</span> +<br /><span class="sc">Stormy Voyage</span> +<br /><span class="sc">Fire at Red Lake</span> +<br /><span class="sc">Secret Mission to Alaska</span> +<br /><span class="sc">Troubled Waters</span></p> +<div class="box"> +<h1>Sandy Steele Adventures<br /> +<br /><i>SECRET MISSION +<br />TO +<br />ALASKA</i></h1> +<p class="tbcenter">BY ROGER BARLOW</p> +<p class="tbcenter"><span class="small">SIMON AND SCHUSTER</span> +<br /><i>New York, 1959</i></p> +</div> +<p class="csmaller">ALL RIGHTS RESERVED +<br />INCLUDING THE RIGHT OF REPRODUCTION +<br />IN WHOLE OR IN PART IN ANY FORM +<br />COPYRIGHT © 1959 BY SIMON AND SCHUSTER, INC. +<br />PUBLISHED BY SIMON AND SCHUSTER, INC. +<br />ROCKEFELLER CENTER, 630 FIFTH AVENUE +<br />NEW YORK 20, N. Y.</p> +<p class="csmaller">FIRST PRINTING</p> +<p class="csmaller">LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOG CARD NUMBER: 59-13882 +<br />MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA +<br />BY H. WOLFF BOOK MFG. CO., INC., NEW YORK</p> +<h2 class="toc">CONTENTS</h2> +<dl class="toc"> +<dt class="jr"><span class="jl"><span class="small">CHAPTER</span></span> <span class="small">PAGE</span></dt> +<dt><span class="cn">1 </span><a href="#c1">Off to Alaska</a> 9</dt> +<dt><span class="cn">2 </span><a href="#c2">A Hint of Trouble</a> 14</dt> +<dt><span class="cn">3 </span><a href="#c3">A Mysterious Intruder</a> 26</dt> +<dt><span class="cn">4 </span><a href="#c4">Charley Works Out the Huskies</a> 37</dt> +<dt><span class="cn">5 </span><a href="#c5">Christmas in the Wilderness</a> 49</dt> +<dt><span class="cn">6 </span><a href="#c6">Attack from the Air</a> 59</dt> +<dt><span class="cn">7 </span><a href="#c7">The Big Race</a> 66</dt> +<dt><span class="cn">8 </span><a href="#c8">Lost in a Blizzard</a> 80</dt> +<dt><span class="cn">9 </span><a href="#c9">Trapped in an Icy Tomb</a> 98</dt> +<dt><span class="cn">10 </span><a href="#c10">Down the Chilkoot Chute to Victory</a> 109</dt> +<dt><span class="cn">11 </span><a href="#c11">Off to Hunt Kodiak Bears</a> 121</dt> +<dt><span class="cn">12 </span><a href="#c12">Treed by a Wounded Bear</a> 135</dt> +<dt><span class="cn">13 </span><a href="#c13">The Ghost Mine</a> 156</dt> +<dt><span class="cn">14 </span><a href="#c14">The Plot Revealed</a> 167</dt> +<dt><span class="cn">15 </span><a href="#c15">Final Victory</a> 185</dt> +</dl> +<div class="img" id="pic1"> +<img src="images/pic1.jpg" alt="Secret Mission to Alaska" width="600" height="851" /> +</div> +<div class="pb" id="Page_9">9</div> +<h2 id="c1"><span class="small">CHAPTER ONE</span> +<br />Off to Alaska</h2> +<p>Sandy Steele twisted his lanky six-foot frame in +the cramped airplane seat, stretching his long legs +out in the aisle. Yawning, he glanced out of the +small, round window beside him. Although it was +daylight now, the ground was completely hidden +by a layer of dense clouds that stretched away to +the horizon on all sides like fluffy marshmallow +topping. The sound of the motors was a dull, monotonous +throbbing in his ears.</p> +<p>Sandy leaned forward and ruffled the black +crew cut that was just visible over the top of the +seat ahead of him. “Hey, Jerry, you awake?”</p> +<p>“Yeah,” a voice mumbled sleepily, “I’m awake. +Are we going to land yet?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_10">10</div> +<p>“I don’t know.” Sandy looked across the aisle +at his father, who was just lighting his pipe. “How +about it, Dad?”</p> +<p>Dr. John Steele studied his watch thoughtfully. +“Oh, I’d say about another half hour.”</p> +<p>The steward, an army corporal, walked back +from the forward compartment with a tray of +paper cups. “Coffee, anyone?”</p> +<p>The steaming-hot black liquid cleared the cobwebs +out of Sandy’s head, and he began to look +forward with excited anticipation to their arrival +in Canada.</p> +<p>“Will Professor Crowell meet us at the airport?” +he asked his father.</p> +<p>Dr. Steele nodded. “Yes. Then we’ll drive back +to his place and pick up his dog team.”</p> +<p>Jerry James’s granite-jawed face appeared over +the back of the seat as he knelt, facing Sandy. +“What’s this about dogs?”</p> +<p>“Berkley Crowell breeds sled dogs as a hobby,” +Dr. Steele explained. “Eskimo huskies. He’s taking +his prize team up to Alaska to compete in the annual +race from Whitehorse to Skagway.”</p> +<p>“Hey, that sounds like fun,” Jerry said.</p> +<p>“As a matter of fact,” the doctor went on, “that +will be one of your major jobs on this expedition. +You boys will drive the truck with the dogs and +help the professor with their care and feeding.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_11">11</div> +<p>Dr. Steele turned his attention back to his book +as Sandy and Jerry got into a conversation with +the young corporal who had served the coffee.</p> +<p>“Both you fellows from California?” the corporal +asked. “Whereabouts?”</p> +<p>“Valley View,” Sandy told him. “That’s near +San Diego, but more inland.”</p> +<p>“I have a cousin in the Navy,” the corporal said. +“He was stationed at San Diego. Nice country.” +He grinned. “You guys are going to find the climate +of Alaska a lot different than California.”</p> +<p>Jerry shivered. “You’re telling us!”</p> +<p>“You go to school in Valley View?” the corporal +asked.</p> +<p>“High school,” Sandy told him. “We’re both +juniors.”</p> +<p>“How long are you going to be in Alaska?”</p> +<p>“About three weeks, I guess. It’s the Christmas +vacation, and my dad got our principal to let us +take an extra week on account of the educational +value of this expedition we’re going on.”</p> +<p>The corporal looked interested. “What kind of +an expedition is it?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_12">12</div> +<p>“My dad is a United States government geologist,” +Sandy explained. “This expedition is part +of a long-range Canadian-American project to +chart glacial movements during the Ice Age. We’ll +be collecting soil, rock and ore samples on our +way through western Canada and Alaska.”</p> +<p>“Sounds like fun,” the corporal said. “You’ll +get a kick out of Alaska. It’s a great place. I’ve +flown up there a couple of times.”</p> +<p>“What’s our forty-ninth state like, anyway?” +Jerry asked curiously. “We bought it from the Indians +for twenty-four dollars, didn’t we?”</p> +<p>Sandy and the corporal laughed. “That was +Manhattan Island, you dope!” Sandy said. “We +bought Alaska from the Russians for about +$7,000,000.”</p> +<p>“It’s twice as big as Texas,” the corporal told +them, “but the population is only a little over +200,000. And most of these people have only been +there since the end of World War Two.”</p> +<p>“I guess we never would have realized just how +valuable Alaska is if the Japanese hadn’t tried to +attack us across the Aleutian Islands,” Sandy said.</p> +<p>At that moment, a buzzer sounded and the +green light at the front of the cabin began to +flash. “Oh-oh,” the corporal said. “Looks like +we’re getting ready to land. Fasten your seat belts, +folks.” He turned and hurried forward.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_13">13</div> +<p>Dr. Steele stood up and removed his mackinaw +from the overhead rack. As he did so, a big, black, +ominous-looking .45 Colt automatic slipped out of +one of the pockets and crashed to the floor.</p> +<p>The boys’ eyes widened and Sandy blurted out +in shocked surprise, “Where did you get that, +Dad?”</p> +<p>Dr. Steele retrieved the gun hastily and stuck +it back into his pocket. “Oh—er—something a +friend advised me to bring with me. In case we +get a chance to do any hunting,” he added.</p> +<p>Sandy frowned. “Hunting with an <i>automatic</i>! +That’s crazy, Dad. Wouldn’t a rifle have been +more practical?”</p> +<p>A thin smile spread the doctor’s lips. “I suppose +you’re right. I should have consulted you before +I got it.”</p> +<p>“Just where <i>did</i> you get it, Dad?” Sandy asked +suspiciously. “The Colt .45 automatic is an official +U.S. Army sidearm.”</p> +<p>There was just the faintest trace of irritation in +Dr. Steele’s voice when he answered. “All these +questions! You’re beginning to sound like your +Aunt Vivian.... Look, we had better fasten our +safety belts. We’re going to land.”</p> +<p>“Sure, Dad, sure,” Sandy said. There was something +uncommonly mysterious about his father’s +behavior, and it worried him.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_14">14</div> +<h2 id="c2"><span class="small">CHAPTER TWO</span> +<br />A Hint of Trouble</h2> +<p>The big U.S. army transport touched down at +the R.C.A.F. military airstrip at Fort St. John, +British Columbia, shortly after dawn on December +23. Dr. Steele and his party were groggy after +spending a restless night of fitful slumber on the +hard, uncomfortable canvas seats that were slung +along the walls of the plane’s huge, drafty cabin. +But the first bite of the dry-ice bitter air of the +Canadian winter snapped them wide-awake and +alert.</p> +<p>“Wow!” Jerry exclaimed, bundled up like a +bear in his hooded parka. “It must be at least one +thousand degrees below zero.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_15">15</div> +<p>Dr. Steele smiled. “You think this is cold? Just +wait until we get farther up north.”</p> +<p>Lou Mayer, Dr. Steele’s assistant, groaned. +“When does the next plane leave for California?” +He broke into a fit of uncontrollable shudders. A +dark, mild-mannered young man in his late +twenties, Lou had been born in Texas and spent +half of his life in Southern California. He consequently +had little tolerance for the cold.</p> +<p>Sandy grinned superciliously. “You guys should +have been smart like me. I wore my long red +flannels.”</p> +<p>“That’s a good point,” Dr. Steele said. “In this +country, proper clothing is essential to survival. +It’s as vital as sufficient food and drink. You must +start conditioning yourselves to think about it.”</p> +<p>Abruptly, they all became aware that Jerry was +staring with hypnotic fixity toward the edge of the +landing field.</p> +<p>“Hey!” Sandy asked. “What gives with you? +What are you looking at?”</p> +<p>Jerry’s eyes were glazed. Dumbly he raised one +arm and pointed at the mountains of snow banked +at the sides of the field. Finally he managed to +mumble, “Snow. That’s snow?”</p> +<p>“Of course it is. You act as if you never saw it +before.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_16">16</div> +<p>Jerry nodded, wide-eyed. “I never did.”</p> +<p>Sandy and the two men broke out laughing. +“Well, this is an occasion,” Dr. Steele said. “I +promise you you will have your fill of it before +we’re through with this trip.”</p> +<p>Jerry was flabbergasted. “I’ve seen pictures of it, +but I just never realized there could be so much +of it in one place. Man! That one drift must be +twenty feet high. Can you imagine waking up +some morning in Valley View and finding that in +your front yard, Sandy?”</p> +<p>“Well, I haven’t seen too much of it,” Sandy +admitted. “But I’ve been up to the Northwest +with Dad a few times.”</p> +<p>At that moment a jeep screeched to a stop +nearby, its exhaust spewing out smoke like a +chimney. The corporal at the wheel leaned out +and yelled to them. “Dr. Steele here?” After the +geologist identified himself, the corporal told them +to pile into the jeep. “There’s a gent waiting for +you at headquarters. A detail will be right out to +unload your baggage.”</p> +<p>“How do you keep these runways free of ice?” +Dr. Steele shouted to the driver above the loud, +rowdy roar of the little jeep motor.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_17">17</div> +<p>“Sweep ’em with giant vacuum cleaners regularly,” +the corporal replied. “When it gets really +rough we melt the ice with flame throwers.”</p> +<p class="tb">Professor Berkley Crowell was waiting for them +close by the glowing steel-drum coal stove that +reinforced the electric heaters in the big quonset-hut +headquarters. “You can’t beat the old-fashioned +way,” he said with a smile, toasting his fingers +in the shimmering heat waves that radiated +from the top of the steel drum.</p> +<p>The professor was a slight, stooped, very British-looking +man in his middle fifties. He had a thin +weatherbeaten face, a sharp nose and a close-cropped +mustache. His deep-set blue eyes were +warm and full of good humor.</p> +<p>“Well,” he said, upon being introduced to +Sandy and Jerry, “I understand that you boys will +be helping me with my dog team.”</p> +<p>“We’ll do the best we can, sir,” Sandy told him.</p> +<p>“They won’t give you too much trouble,” the +professor said. “Titan—that’s my lead dog—he +practically runs the whole show himself. Possesses +human intelligence, that animal.”</p> +<p>“When do we get to see them?” Jerry asked.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_18">18</div> +<p>“As soon as we get back to my ranch. I’m situated +about ten miles down the Alaska Highway, +toward Dawson Creek. That’s the southern terminus +of the highway.”</p> +<p>When they had finished the steaming mugs of +hot coffee served up by the flying officers’ mess, +Professor Crowell and his party climbed aboard +the big station wagon parked in the drive and +drove away from the air base.</p> +<p>The Alaska Highway was a broad, smooth, +gravel-topped road hewed through some of the +thickest forests and most rugged terrain on the +North American continent. Now the gravel was +topped by a thick crust of snow.</p> +<p>“A miracle of our century,” Professor Crowell +explained as they drove. “Built in just eight +months by your amazing U.S. Army engineers in +1943, when the Japanese forces were threatening +the Aleutian Island chain. It was a lifesaving +artery to Alaska and a vital chain to our western +air bases. Sixteen hundred and seventy-one miles. +Just imagine!”</p> +<p>An auto filled with shouting children whizzed +past them, traveling in the opposite direction. It +was weighted down with valises and bundles +strapped to the roof and fenders.</p> +<p>“Where are they going?” Jerry inquired.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_19">19</div> +<p>“Pioneer settlers for your glorious forty-ninth +state,” Professor Crowell answered. “There’s a +steady stream of them. Did you know that the +population of Alaska has tripled since World War +Two?”</p> +<p>“It sort of gives you goose pimples,” Sandy said. +“It’s almost as if you turned back the clock a +hundred years.”</p> +<p>“The last frontier of the United States,” Dr. +Steele remarked. “On this planet, at least.”</p> +<p>“When will we be leaving, Professor Crowell?” +Lou Mayer asked.</p> +<p>The professor glanced down at his wrist watch. +“It’s eight o’clock now. I estimate we’ll be on +our way shortly after noon. I want you fellows to +get a hot meal into you first. Then we’ll load the +truck and station wagon.” He looked around at +Dr. Steele. “We’ll pick up your equipment at +Fort St. John on the way back.”</p> +<p>Jerry was fascinated by the high banks of snow +on the shoulders of the road. “Boy, I wonder how +they keep this thing open. Back in the States we’re +always reading about whole towns being cut off +by a measly two feet of snow.”</p> +<p>“Even big cities like New York,” Sandy chimed +in.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_20">20</div> +<p>The professor smiled. “That’s because cities like +New York aren’t prepared for heavy snowfalls. Up +here, we expect it. Why, I bet a little village like +Dawson Creek has more snow equipment than +most big cities on the eastern seaboard of the +United States. Along the Alaska Highway, for instance, +there are one hundred and twenty-five +weather stations alone, and almost as many maintenance +stations. No, you stand a better chance of +getting marooned on the Pennsylvania Turnpike +than you do on this road.”</p> +<p>Professor Crowell’s ranch house was located on +a cutoff about a quarter of a mile from the main +highway. It was a sprawling frame building with +a large barn at the back of the property and completely +surrounded by a thick spruce forest.</p> +<p>The professor, a widower, had twin daughters, +Judy and Jill, who kept house for him. Their +domestic efficiency made them seem older than +their seventeen years. The girls were blond and +blue-eyed and very pretty, and Jerry couldn’t look +at them without stammering and blushing. It was +obvious he was smitten with the twins.</p> +<p>The Crowell household also included a middle-aged +French couple, the Duprés; Henri took care +of the livestock and his wife, Marie, did the cooking. +Then there was Tagish Charley, who took +care of the kennels.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_21">21</div> +<p>Tagish Charley was a full-blooded Indian. He +stood 6′ 4″ tall, weighed 230 pounds and was as +lithe as a panther. His hair was the flat black +color of charcoal, and his skin was the texture +of ancient parchment. Charley could have been +any age, from 40 to 400. He spoke English well +enough, when he spoke, which was very seldom; +and he said what he had to say in as few words as +possible.</p> +<p>“Charley is economical with his money and his +speech,” Professor Crowell said when he introduced +him to his guests. “He’s as stoic as a cigar-store +Indian.”</p> +<p>Sandy and Jerry hit it off with Charley from the +start. While the geologists went over the last-minute +details of their trip in the professor’s study, +Charley took the boys out to the kennel at one +side of the barn. A dozen husky dogs were frolicking +in the snow inside a wire enclosure. As soon as +they saw Charley they all rushed over to the gate +and piled up in a seething mass of yelping, snarling, +twisting fur, leaping up against the chain link +fence and falling back on top of each other. It was +a wild melee.</p> +<p>“Wow!” Jerry exclaimed. “They look as if +they’d eat you alive.”</p> +<p>The Indian grunted. “No hurt. They want to +play.”</p> +<p>Jerry looked dubious. “I bet they play rough.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_22">22</div> +<p>The Eskimo dogs were handsome animals. In +reality they weren’t particularly large; probably +they weighed about 75 to 80 pounds and stood 18 +inches high at the shoulder; but with their broad +chests, thick necks and massive heads they looked +enormous. Their great thick coats varied in color +from black-and-white to slate-gray, solidly and in +combinations of all three. They had powerful +wolflike muzzles, sharp ears and slanting eyes.</p> +<p>Tagish Charley opened the gate and motioned +the boys to follow him into the pen. The dogs +barked and leaped around the Indian, nipping +his trousers and mittens playfully. They ignored +the boys. There was one exception. Standing off +to one side was a big, solid-black husky with a +white mask across his eyes and upper muzzle. By +far the largest dog of the lot—Sandy estimated his +weight to be at least 100 pounds—he seemed to +regard the antics of his fellows with regal aloofness. +Finally his eyes turned solemnly on the boys +and he started toward them.</p> +<p>“Charley!” Jerry yelled, grabbing Sandy’s arm +nervously. “He’s charging us.”</p> +<p>Sandy laughed. “Go on, you sissy. His tail is +wagging. That means he wants to be friends.”</p> +<p>“You know that, and I know that,” said Jerry, +edging backward, “but does <i>he</i> know that?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_23">23</div> +<p>“That Black Titan,” Charley said. “Lead dog. +Best husky in all the North.”</p> +<p>As the big dog nuzzled against his leg, Sandy +leaned down and stroked his broad, glossy head. +“Nice feller. Good boy.... Hey, where did you +get that lump on your skull, Titan?”</p> +<p>“He save professor’s life,” Charley declared +without emotion. “Bad man hit him on head +with club.”</p> +<p>“Bad man! When?” the boys exclaimed in a +chorus.</p> +<p>“Five, six nights back. Titan hear prowler. +Jump over fence. Man open window, climb into +professor’s room, choke professor. Titan jump +through window, save him.”</p> +<p>“What happened to the burglar? Did they catch +him?” Sandy asked excitedly.</p> +<p>“No. He club Titan, dive through window into +snow. Get away with dog team.”</p> +<p>“Gee,” Jerry said. “Even up here they got characters +like that. Only instead of a getaway car, +they use dog sleds.”</p> +<p>“Did he get away with anything valuable?” +Sandy asked.</p> +<p>The Indian’s brown face seemed to grow even +darker. “He no come to rob money.”</p> +<p>“What do you mean?” Sandy asked.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_24">24</div> +<p>Charley shrugged. “Many strange things happen +here this year. Professor sleep with gun under his +pillow.”</p> +<p>Sandy and Jerry exchanged wondering looks. +“Now who’d be out to get a nice old geezer like +the professor?” Jerry wanted to know.</p> +<p>Sandy was thoughtful. “I don’t know, Jerry. I +don’t know. But I have a feeling we’re going to +find a lot more excitement on this trip than we +bargained for.”</p> +<p>“I agree with you,” a terse female voice said +from behind them.</p> +<p>Surprised, Sandy whirled around to find Judy +Crowell standing in the open gateway. Bundled +up in ski pants, mackinaw and high boots, she +might have been a boy, except for the mass of +golden hair sticking out in tufts from beneath her +wool cap.</p> +<p>“Charley’s right,” she said. “A lot of strange +things have been happening around here during +the last few months. Ever since Dad spent a week +in Ottawa this fall, he’s been a different man. +He’s lost weight. He can’t sleep or eat. And—” +she shivered—“he always carries a pistol with him. +He’s afraid of something—or someone. But when +Jill and I ask him, he just laughs and says we’ve +been seeing too many American motion pictures.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_25">25</div> +<p>Sandy felt cold prickles creep up his back. “It’s +funny. My dad brought along a gun with him +too.”</p> +<p>Jerry whistled. “What’s it all mean, Sandy?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know, pal. But I don’t like it.”</p> +<p>Still surrounded by his ring of canine admirers, +Tagish Charley addressed Judy Crowell. “You no +worry about your papa, Miss Judy. Charley take +good care of him. Bad fellers come around, me +break ’em up like firewood.” He made a twisting +motion in the air with his two huge fists.</p> +<p>For some reason Sandy felt relieved. “I didn’t +know you were coming with us, Charley.”</p> +<p>Charley’s serious, expressionless face altered +for a fleeting instant in a suggestion of a smile. “I +just decide now.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_26">26</div> +<h2 id="c3"><span class="small">CHAPTER THREE</span> +<br />A Mysterious Intruder</h2> +<p>The little caravan headed north on the Alaska +Highway about 12:20 <span class="sc">P.M.</span> Professor Crowell, Dr. +Steele and Lou Mayer led the way in the big station +wagon, which was loaded down with scientific +equipment and supplies. Sandy, Jerry and Tagish +Charley followed in a surplus U.S. Army six-by-six +truck. The boys and the Indian all rode in the +roomy cab, with Sandy at the wheel. The back of +the truck, roofed with a heavy canvas top, had +been converted into a comfortable compartment +for the professor’s seven prize huskies. Here, also, +were the big dog sled, a pyramidal tent, sleeping +bags, cooking utensils and a Coleman stove.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_27">27</div> +<p>As Professor Crowell pointed out, there were +tourist camps and aid stations all along the highway, +but sometimes it was more convenient to set +up one’s own camp at the side of the road. Particularly +in winter, travelers had to be prepared for +emergencies.</p> +<p>Both vehicles were equipped with heavy-duty +tire chains on all wheels, plus oversized snow tires, +and they rode smoothly and firmly across the hard-packed +snow surface of the highway.</p> +<p>As the afternoon deepened into an early dusk, +the temperature plummeted, and the chill penetrated +the cab of the truck, even though the heater +was going full blast. Sandy doubled up his hands +into fists inside his mittens and wriggled his feet +inside his fur-lined boots to stimulate his circulation.</p> +<p>“I’m warm as toast except for my fingers and +toes,” he said.</p> +<p>Jerry fingered his nose gingerly. “My old schnozzola +is getting numb.”</p> +<p>Tagish Charley, who was taking his turn at the +wheel, patted his stomach. “Belly say soon time to +stop and eat.”</p> +<p>Jerry yawned and looked at the dashboard clock. +“Three-thirty,” he announced. “We’ve been on +the road for about three hours. How far have we +come?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_28">28</div> +<p>Sandy studied the speedometer. “A little over +one hundred and ten miles.”</p> +<p>“That’s pretty good,” Jerry said. “We’re averaging +almost forty per.”</p> +<p>A little while later they passed a river, and now +Charley turned the headlights on. Out of nowhere, +it seemed, thousands of tiny snowflakes +swirled suddenly into the yellow cones of light.</p> +<p>“It’s snowing!” Jerry exclaimed.</p> +<p>Sandy surveyed the wilderness on both sides +anxiously. “I’d hate to spend the night out here +in a blizzard.”</p> +<p>“We stop soon,” Charley assured him.</p> +<p>The words were scarcely out of his mouth when +they rounded a curve and came upon a little settlement +set back in a clearing in a pine grove. It +consisted of two large quonset huts and three small +log cabins. The warm glow of lights in the small +windows of the buildings gave Sandy a feeling +of well-being. The station wagon slowed down, +tooted twice with its horn and swerved off the +highway into the circular drive that had been +plowed up to the entrance of the main building. +As the truck’s headlights swept across the front of +the other larger quonset hut, they could see that +it had big sliding doors that allowed one entire +wall to open up like an airplane hangar. And as +the lights probed the interior of the hut, they +could make out a neat two-engine plane mounted +on skis. The brief glimpse also revealed a big +bulldozer plow and other snow-fighting machinery.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_29">29</div> +<p>“Road crew,” Charley told the boys. “They +good fellers. We eat good, drink good and sleep +good.”</p> +<p class="tb">“You were so right, Charley,” Jerry said later, as +he pushed himself away from the big plank table +after sharing a hearty meal of roast lamb, fried +potatoes, home-made rolls and apple pie with +Superintendent MacKensie and his maintenance +gang. “I never ate so good.” He polished off a pint +mug of milk that was half cream and sighed. “Or +drank so good either.”</p> +<p>Superintendent MacKensie, a big florid-faced +man, tugged at one side of his blond handlebar +mustache. “Here now, you’re not finished, are +you?” he asked.</p> +<p>Jerry patted the round swell of his stomach. “If +I ate another mouthful, I’d burst, sir.”</p> +<p>“That’s a shame,” MacKensie said solemnly. +“Now Cooky’s feelings will be hurt and he’ll make +you wash the dishes.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_30">30</div> +<p>A swarthy giant of a man at the far end of the +table pounded the planks with hamlike fists. “By +gar, I weel!” he roared in mock anger. “You no +like Frenchy’s cooking?”</p> +<p>Everyone laughed as Jerry looked around uncertainly.</p> +<p>Dr. Steele patted his mouth with a napkin. “As +Jerry so aptly put it, Frenchy, ‘We never ate so +good.’”</p> +<p>“We’re happy you enjoyed it, Doctor,” Superintendent +MacKensie said. “Now if you’d like to go +into the other room and toast your feet by the +hearth, I’ll have one of the lads stir up that fire in +your cabin.”</p> +<p>“An excellent suggestion,” Professor Crowell +agreed.</p> +<p>With the exception of a half dozen men of the +road crew who had some tasks to attend to, they +all retired to the large, comfortably furnished +recreation room where an enormous stone fireplace +almost covered one wall. Sandy, Jerry and +Lou Mayer sat cross-legged directly in front of the +blazing logs, on a thick bearskin robe that was +spread-eagled on the floor.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_31">31</div> +<p>“Man!” Jerry whispered in an awed voice, lifting +the huge head and inspecting the gleaming +fangs that were still frightening even in death. +“I think if I ever ran into one of these babies I’d +just roll over and die before he laid a paw on me.”</p> +<p>Lou Mayer poked one of the clawed forepaws +with his toe. “Well, it’s a sure bet you’d die if he +ever <i>did</i> lay one of those paws on you. They’re as +big as dinner plates.”</p> +<p>Superintendent MacKensie, slouched in an old-fashioned +rocker, sucked his pipe gravely. “I’ve +seen them kill a horse with one swipe.”</p> +<p>“You’ve <i>seen</i> them?” Sandy asked.</p> +<p>MacKensie smiled reminiscently. “As a matter +of fact <i>that</i> fellow did kill my horse. I was hunting +with a party up on Kodiak Island. I blundered +around a rock right into the beggar. He rose up on +his hind legs, caught my horse with one blow in +the choppers and that was it. I managed to jump +free. Then I pumped five shots into him. They +might as well have been darts. He would have got +me for sure if the guide hadn’t dropped him with +a brain shot.”</p> +<p>“Powerful beasts,” Professor Crowell acknowledged. +“The Roman Emperor Nero used to pit +bears against lions in the arena. And frequently +they killed the lions.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_32">32</div> +<p>“It’s a lucky thing we did bring all those guns +along—” Jerry began, than caught himself as +Sandy and Lou Mayer stiffened visibly. “Well, it’s +a good idea with mankillers like this running +loose,” he finished lamely.</p> +<p>Superintendent MacKensie laughed. “So you +expect to do some hunting while you’re up north, +do you?” he said to Professor Crowell. He turned +to Dr. Steele. “Of course, the customs officials +plugged up the barrels of your weapons, didn’t +they?”</p> +<p>“Yes, they did,” Dr. Steele said emphatically. +Speaking directly to Sandy and Jerry, he explained. +“You see, the Canadians don’t want visitors +to shoot up their game preserves, and quite +rightly so. When we cross the border into Alaska, +the officials will remove the seals from the barrels. +Do you <i>understand</i>?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir,” Sandy mumbled, looking quickly +away into the embers. He was stunned. <i>Those +automatics weren’t plugged up.</i> He had never +heard his father deliberately tell a lie before.</p> +<p>Unaware of the tension that had mushroomed +up, MacKensie stretched. “I’d better be getting +back to the radio shack and see what’s come in +from the weather stations on this storm. If she +looks bad, I’ll have to keep a crew on alert. Any +time you gentlemen feel like sacking in, go to it. +Your cabin should be warm now. It’s small, but +cozy. There are six bunk beds, so it won’t be too +crowded.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_33">33</div> +<p>“Where’s Charley?” Sandy asked, suddenly +aware that the Indian was not in the room.</p> +<p>“Right after supper he went outside to get your +dogs bedded down,” one of the crewmen told him.</p> +<p>Professor Crowell smiled. “He treats them like +children, and they love it. Actually, though, all +those huskies need for a bed is a soft snowdrift.”</p> +<p>“They like to sleep in snow?” Jerry asked incredulously. +“Don’t they freeze?”</p> +<p>“No, once they tuck in their paws and stick their +noses under their tails, they’re ready for anything. +Have you noticed their coats? Double thick. +Underneath that heavy outside fur there’s a short +woolly undercoat. The fact is they’re probably +more comfortable sleeping outside than next to a +roaring fire.”</p> +<p>Lou Mayer held his hands up to the flames. “We +have nothing in common.”</p> +<p>After MacKensie left, the other maintenance +men began to drift off to bed. The snow was coming +down very hard, and they faced the prospect +of a long, hard day battling the drifts.</p> +<p>About nine o’clock, Sandy yawned and +stretched. “What do you say we turn in, pal?” he +said to Jerry.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_34">34</div> +<p>“I’m with you,” Jerry replied promptly.</p> +<p>The boys looked inquiringly at the older men. +“You two run along,” Dr. Steele told them. “We’ll +finish our pipes first.”</p> +<p>Sandy and Jerry dug their mackinaws and mittens +out of a heap of clothing on the long table in +the vestibule and slipped on their boots.</p> +<p>“It’s only a hundred-yard walk,” Sandy admitted, +“but at thirty below zero it’s worth the +trouble.”</p> +<p>“Amen,” Jerry agreed, wrapping his wool muffler +around his lantern jaw.</p> +<p>The boys stepped out the back door of the big +hut and followed the path leading back to the +cabins. Ten feet away from the building, the wind-whipped +grains of ice and snow closed in on them +like a white curtain, blotting out their vision. If +it had not been for the clearly defined path, they +would have been helpless.</p> +<p>“You could get lost in your own back yard in +this stuff,” Jerry gasped. “Yipes!” he shouted as +he blundered off the path into a snowdrift. +“Where’s the St. Bernards?”</p> +<p>Sandy took his arm and guided him back on the +path. Finally, a dark outline with a faint square of +light in the center of it loomed up before them.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_35">35</div> +<p>“Here we are,” Sandy shouted above the wind. +“Home at last.”</p> +<p>“If only the boys back at Valley View High +could see us now,” Jerry yelled in his ear. +“Wouldn’t it be something to drop that Pepper +March out here some night? Boy! Or better yet, +let’s drop him into a den of those Kodiak bears.”</p> +<p>Sandy laughed. “I don’t know which of the two +is more ornery. He might scare them off.”</p> +<p>They reached the cabin door, and Sandy leaned +against it and pushed it open. They staggered +inside and slammed it shut behind them. The +interior of the one-room shack was dark, except +for the logs burning low and evenly on the open +hearth.</p> +<p>Sandy blinked to accustom his eyes to the dimness. +“I could have sworn there was a light in the +window as we came along the path.”</p> +<p>“Probably the reflection of the flames on the +panes,” Jerry suggested.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_36">36</div> +<p>“Yeah. Well, let’s light a lamp.” Sandy took +several steps toward a table silhouetted against the +firelight, then stopped suddenly. “Hey!” he said +in a startled voice, nudging an object on the floor +with his boot. “What’s this junk spread all over the +floor? Looks like somebody was breaking up house. +I wonder—” He broke off as a dark shape materialized +from the shadows in the far corner of the +cabin and seemed to glide toward him. At the same +time, he heard Jerry’s excited shout in his ear.</p> +<p>“Sandy! There’s somebody in here. Hey, look +out!”</p> +<p>Sandy Steele, without even a consciousness of +what he was facing, reacted with his athlete’s instinct +and reflexes. Crouching low, he braced himself +solidly, and as the figure loomed up before +him, he threw a hard body block at the middle of +it. His shoulder hit a solid form and he heard a +soft grunt of pain and anger. As his arms grappled +with the intruder, he realized for the first +time that it was a man. His fingers brushed rough +wool, and then he felt the steel fingers at his +throat.</p> +<p>“Get help, Jerry!” he bellowed, just before the +wind was pinched off in his throat. Then he took +a hard, numbing blow at the back of his neck and +felt himself falling ... falling ... falling ... +into blackness.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_37">37</div> +<h2 id="c4"><span class="small">CHAPTER FOUR</span> +<br />Charley Works Out the Huskies</h2> +<p>When Sandy regained consciousness he was lying +flat on his back on a cot, surrounded by a ring of +anxious faces. He recognized his father, Jerry, +Professor Crowell, Lou Mayer, Superintendent +MacKensie and several other men from the maintenance +gang.</p> +<p>“What—what happened?” Sandy asked weakly.</p> +<p>“It’s all right, Son. You’re fine. Just a nasty +bump on the head,” Dr. Steele told him.</p> +<p>“He really clobbered you, Sandy,” Jerry said. +“Then he straight-armed me and sent me flying +back over a chair. Before I could get up he was +gone in the blizzard.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_38">38</div> +<p>“There’s no sense trying to follow him in this +heavy snow,” MacKensie declared. “His tracks +are probably covered already.”</p> +<p>“Did he get away with anything?” Sandy wanted +to know.</p> +<p>Dr. Steele and Professor Crowell exchanged +significant glances. Then the Canadian geologist +said hurriedly, “No, he didn’t steal a thing. Probably +some renegade trapper looking for guns and +ammunition. They prey on unwary travelers, these +chaps. I’ll bet he’s wanted by the Mounties as it +is.”</p> +<p>Superintendent MacKensie looked puzzled. +“He certainly was a queer one, all right. He really +messed things up. But, now, what do you suppose +he was after in that stuff?” He pointed to an open +valise in the middle of the room.</p> +<p>Sandy propped himself up on one elbow and +saw that Professor Crowell’s notebooks and papers +were scattered all about the floor.</p> +<p>“He must have thought you had money hidden +between the pages,” Lou Mayer said quickly.</p> +<p>Superintendent MacKensie scratched his head. +“I dunno. It beats me. We’ve never had anything +like this happen before. There have been hijackings +on the highway, but no one’s ever had the +nerve to break in here.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_39">39</div> +<p>“Well, no harm done,” Dr. Steele said. “And +Sandy will be as good as new after a night’s sleep. +I suggest we clean this mess up and turn in.”</p> +<p>The others agreed, and while Sandy rested on +the cot they began to gather up their scattered belongings.</p> +<p>“I wonder if he got at the rest of the stuff we +left in the station wagon,” Professor Crowell said.</p> +<p>“I doubt it,” Superintendent MacKensie said. +“Your wagon is in the shed with our scout plane +and the heavy machinery. We’ve had men working +out there all evening.”</p> +<p>After the cabin was in order, MacKensie and his +men said good night and went back to the main +barracks. As they were undressing before the fire, +Dr. Steele questioned Sandy casually but with +painstaking thoroughness about his encounter +with the intruder.</p> +<p>“Was he a big man?” the doctor asked. “Did you +get a look at his face?”</p> +<p>Sandy shook his head. “It was too dark to see +much of anything. All I know is that he was big, +taller than me, and husky.”</p> +<p>“That goes for me, too,” Jerry agreed. “For all +I know it could have been Tagish Charley.”</p> +<p>Professor Crowell dropped the boot he was +holding with a loud clatter. “What did you say, +boy?” he asked in a tense voice.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_40">40</div> +<p>Jerry laughed nervously at the professor’s obvious +dismay. “I mean he was big like Charley. +Of course it wasn’t Charley. Heck, it could have +been that big French cook. All I know is that he +was big and strong.”</p> +<p>“By the way,” Dr. Steele said suddenly, “where +<i>is</i> Charley?”</p> +<p>No one answered for a long moment. Then +Sandy said, “I guess he’s still out with the dogs. Or +maybe he’s back swapping stories with the old-timers +in the barracks.”</p> +<p>Just as Lou Mayer was about to turn down the +lamp, after the others were all in bed, the cabin +door swung in and Tagish Charley tramped into +the room. His hood and parka were encrusted +with snow and ice, as were his boots and trousers. +He looked as if he had been out in the storm for +a long time. In the crook of his left arm he held +a rifle.</p> +<p>“Good lord, Charley!” the professor exclaimed, +sitting upright on his cot. “Where have you been, +man?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_41">41</div> +<p>The Indian walked over to the fireplace and +shook himself like a great dog. Carefully he +leaned the rifle against the wall and shrugged out +of his parka. “I drink coffee in kitchen with +Frenchy when man run in and say someone break +into this cabin. I take rifle and follow him.”</p> +<p>“In this storm!” Sandy said. “You could have +gotten lost and frozen to death.”</p> +<p>Charley grunted and tapped a finger to his +temple. “Indian have thing up here like pigeon. +Always find way home. Bad man have sled and +dogs waiting in trees. No use follow him. If snow +stop in morning, maybe I look around some +more.” He kicked off his boots, stepped out of his +wet trousers and spread them out over the back of +a chair near the fire. Then, like a big animal, he +padded across the floor to an empty bunk. Seconds +after his head hit the pillow, the rafters shook +from his mooselike snores.</p> +<p>Jerry leaned over the side of his top-deck wall +bunk and grinned at Sandy in the bunk underneath. +“Now I know those guys up in Tibet are all +wet. There isn’t any Abominable Snowman. They +bumped into Tagish Charley when he was out for +one of his evening strolls.”</p> +<p>Sandy grinned back, but it was a weak grin. He +was bothered alternately by twinges of suspicion +and pangs of guilt. It <i>couldn’t</i> be Charley; he +<i>knew</i> it! Yet, anything was possible.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_42">42</div> +<p>The snow stopped during the night and a high-pressure +area moved into the vicinity. Morning +brought clear blue skies and bright sun. But the +air was still dry and frosty.</p> +<p>“Actually, only about seven inches fell,” Superintendent +MacKensie told them at breakfast. +“By the time you folks are on your way, the highway +will be slick as a whistle. Our patrol plane’s +scouting back in the direction of Dawson Creek +to see if any motorcars are in trouble. If anyone +was on the road when that snow started coming +down real hard, they would have had to sit it out +overnight.”</p> +<p>“I hope we’re still here when the plane gets +back,” Jerry said. “I’d like to see how they land +those babies on skis.”</p> +<p>“Actually, it’s smoother than landing on +wheels,” Professor Crowell told him. “I know I +prefer them.”</p> +<p>“Do you have your own plane, Professor?” +Sandy asked.</p> +<p>“Oh, yes. In wild, big country like this, planes +are more common than family cars, and far more +practical. In the summertime almost every lake +you pass on your way north looks something like +a supermarket parking field. Private planes, all +sizes and shapes and makes.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_43">43</div> +<p>Jerry whistled. “Boy, that’s the life. Can you +imagine how that would be back in Valley View? +I can just hear myself saying to my father, ‘Hey, +Pop, I got a heavy date tonight. Can I have the +keys to the plane?’”</p> +<p>The men laughed and Professor Crowell said, +“That’s not as much of a joke as you think. My +daughters are always flying up to Edmonton to +shop for their new spring outfits and Easter +bonnets.”</p> +<p>Jerry looked wistful. “Gee, it must be more fun +being a kid up here than it is in the city.”</p> +<p>Dr. Steele smiled. “It certainly must be more +exciting in some ways. Then again, I suspect that +youngsters like you and Sandy would miss your +malt shops, drive-ins and television.”</p> +<p>“They have television here,” Sandy said.</p> +<p>“Yes,” Superintendent MacKensie admitted, +“but it’s pretty limited compared to what you +Americans can see.”</p> +<p>The boys were intrigued by the heavy, thick +flapjacks that Frenchy the cook served with thick +slabs of bacon.</p> +<p>“They taste different than what my maw +makes,” Jerry commented. “Sort of sour.” Then, +with an apologetic glance at the big, bushy-headed +cook, “But I love ’em.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_44">44</div> +<p>Superintendent MacKensie’s eyes twinkled. +“You may not believe it,” he said, “but the fermented +yeast dough that went into these flapjacks +is over sixty years old.”</p> +<p>Jerry choked in the middle of a bite and swallowed +hard. “Sixty years old! You’re kidding, sir?”</p> +<p>“Not in the least. It was handed down to +Frenchy by his father, who was a gold prospector +up in the Yukon in the eighteen-nineties.”</p> +<p>“Wow!” Jerry laid down his fork. “Talk about +hoarders.”</p> +<p>Dr. Steele laughed. “Sourdough, of course. +Those old prospectors got their nickname from it. +You boys have heard of sourdoughs, haven’t you?”</p> +<p>“Sure,” Jerry admitted. “I just never knew +where the name came from.”</p> +<p>“Sourdough was the prospector’s staff of life on +the trail,” Superintendent MacKensie explained. +“Once he got the mixture just right, he’d keep it +in a tightly closed container and add to it as he +used it. But the culture always remained the +same.”</p> +<p>“Yeast is like a fungus,” Professor Crowell +elaborated for the boys’ benefit. “It’s composed of +living, growing cells.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” the superintendent went on. “This particular +strain in the flapjacks we’re eating has been +kept alive for sixty years by Frenchy’s family.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_45">45</div> +<p>“<i>Oui</i>,” the cook spoke from the end of the table. +“My <i>papa</i> give some of this sourdough to all his +sons and daughters when they leave home. I give +to my son some day.”</p> +<p>“Amazing,” said Lou Mayer.</p> +<p>Frenchy stood up and swung a big, empty +platter up on one hand. “I go make some more, +no?” He looked down at Jerry. “You eat five or +six more, hey, boy? They very small.”</p> +<p>Jerry attacked the last flapjack on his plate with +renewed relish. “A couple more anyway, Frenchy. +And maybe another slab of that bacon.” He +winked as Sandy began to groan. “Who knows, we +may get stranded for days in a blizzard without +food. I’m storing up energy.”</p> +<p>After breakfast, Sandy and Jerry went outside +and watched Tagish Charley work out the huskies +on the landing strip off to one side of the road +station. The dog sled was about ten feet long with +a welded aluminum frame and polished steel +runners. Extending halfway down both sides, were +guard rails to which baggage could be strapped. +There was a small footrest at the rear, where the +sled driver could ride standing erect, and a rubber-coated +handrail for him to grip.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_46">46</div> +<p>The dogs milled about excitedly as Charley +harnessed them to the sled. They were hitched up +in staggered formation, one dog’s head abreast +of the haunches of the dog in front of him. +Black Titan led the pack, and the driving reins +were attached only to his harness.</p> +<p>“Lead dog, he have to be very smart,” Charley +told them, ruffling up the thick fur collar around +Titan’s throat. “He boss of team. Not driver. +Other dogs do bad job, he scold them. Sometimes +he have to fight a bad dog who make trouble.”</p> +<p>“Do you think Professor Crowell’s team has a +chance to win the race from Whitehorse to Skagway?” +Sandy asked him.</p> +<p>“We win,” Charley said matter-of-factly. “Best +team, best lead dog.” He patted Titan’s head. +“Black Titan pull sled all alone if he have to.”</p> +<p>“Is the professor going to drive himself, Charley?” +Jerry inquired curiously.</p> +<p>The Indian shrugged his shoulders. “Better he +not drive in race. Professor fine dog driver, but +safer if he not drive this race. On trail easy for +bad men to get him. Better for Charley to drive +team.”</p> +<p>“Charley,” Sandy asked worriedly, “do you +have any idea why the bad men are after Professor +Crowell? Why would anyone want to harm a nice +man like him?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_47">47</div> +<p>Anger tightened Charley’s features. “Professor +got something they want very bad. They kill him +if they have to.”</p> +<p>“But <i>what</i> do they want? What is it the professor +has that’s so valuable to them? Money? +Jewels?”</p> +<p>Charley shook his head. “Professor no have +money or jewels. Maybe something he have in +here.” He tapped his finger against his forehead +wisely.</p> +<p>Sandy looked at Jerry. “You know, he could +have something there. I think I’m going to have +a man-to-man talk with my dad first chance I get.”</p> +<p>The two boys rode on the sled as ballast while +Charley put the powerful team through its paces, +whizzing back and forth on the hard-packed surface +of the landing strip and churning through +high drifts in the virgin snow around the fringes.</p> +<p>“Great!” Jerry yelled in Sandy’s ear, clutching +the guard rail with one hand and, with his other +hand, protecting his face from the spray of snow +flung back by the dogs’ flying feet. “This is better +than the roller coaster at Disneyland.”</p> +<p>Sandy nodded vigorously. “That Titan is fantastic, +isn’t he? He acts almost human.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_48">48</div> +<p>Seemingly aware of his admiring audience, +Black Titan put on an impressive display. Setting +a pace for his teammates that kept their tongues +lolling from their black-roofed mouths, he guided +them smoothly into sharp turns and sudden twists +and broke trail through muzzle-high snow with +his broad chest as if it were light as dust—all the +time responsive to the slightest tug at the reins.</p> +<p>“He’s a marvel, all right,” Sandy told Charley +later when the dogs were resting after their work-out.</p> +<p>“Boy, would I ever like to get into that big race. +You don’t need any passengers, do you, Charley?” +Jerry asked.</p> +<p>“Okay for you boys to come along. Need five +hundred pounds on sled anyway.”</p> +<p>Sandy was overjoyed. “You mean it, Charley? +Really? Jerry and I can ride ballast on the sled?”</p> +<p>“Sure. You ask professor.”</p> +<p>At that minute, Dr. Steele came walking across +the landing strip toward them. “You fellows about +ready to leave? It’s nine-thirty. Superintendent +MacKensie has had our vehicles warming up for +almost half an hour now.”</p> +<p>Sandy spoke to Jerry in a low voice. “You help +Charley get the dogs in the truck. I want to talk +to my dad—in private.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_49">49</div> +<h2 id="c5"><span class="small">CHAPTER FIVE</span> +<br />Christmas in the Wilderness</h2> +<p>“Dad,” Sandy began haltingly as they walked +slowly back to the barracks, “Professor Crowell is +in some kind of trouble, isn’t he?”</p> +<p>Dr. Steele was evasive. “You mean because of +that man who broke into our cabin? What makes +you think that had anything to do with the professor?”</p> +<p>Sandy looked earnestly into his father’s eyes. +“That was no ordinary thief, Dad. He was after +something in Professor Crowell’s notes and +papers.” His face became even graver. “Maybe +they’re after you, too.”</p> +<p>Dr. Steele tried to laugh it off, but his mirth was +hollow. “Aren’t you becoming a little melodramatic, +Son?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_50">50</div> +<p>“You don’t fool me for a minute, Dad. I know +that whatever’s going on is probably top-secret +government business and you can’t tell me what +it’s all about. But I do think it’s only fair to tell me +whether or not you or the professor or Lou Mayer +are in any danger.”</p> +<p>Dr. Steele appeared to think it over very carefully. +Finally, he sighed. “Yes, I guess you’re right. +I brought you boys along, so I don’t suppose I have +any right to keep you completely in the dark. The +fact is we <i>are</i> in danger—all of us. I had no right +to expose you boys—especially Jerry—to this kind +of thing, but I thought at first we could deceive +<i>them</i> into believing that this was just a routine +geological survey. I was wrong. They’re far too +clever.” His mouth tightened. “Maybe the best +thing to do would be to send you and Jerry back +home.”</p> +<p>“Dad!” Sandy looked hurt. “Not on your life. If +you’re in any kind of trouble, I’m sticking with +you until you’re out of it.”</p> +<p>Dr. Steele frowned. “I wish I could tell you +more about this, Sandy, but I’m bound by an oath +of secrecy. You’ll just have to trust me.”</p> +<p>“I trust you, Dad.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_51">51</div> +<p>“As for Jerry James, I think it’s only fair for you +to tell him what I’ve told you and let him decide +whether he wants to continue on with us.”</p> +<p>“I’ll ask him,” Sandy agreed. “But I know what +he’s going to say right now.”</p> +<p>They were almost at the front door of the barracks +now. “One more thing, Dad,” Sandy said. +“Tagish Charley. I like him an awful lot. You +don’t think that he—”</p> +<p>“That he’s the one who ransacked our cabin last +night?” the doctor finished for him. “The same +thought flashed through my mind, too. I just can’t +believe it, though. Charley’s been with the professor +for years; he’s like one of the family. Still—” +his face went grim—“we don’t really know—and +we can’t afford to take chances.”</p> +<p>Superintendent MacKensie greeted them as +they entered the building. “Your wagons are all +set to roll,” he announced.</p> +<p>Sandy took his friend aside just before they +left the station and repeated what his father had +said, offering Jerry the choice of going back to +Valley View.</p> +<p>“I ought to slug you,” the husky, dark-haired +boy roared, his black eyes flashing, his square +jaw jutting out defiantly, “for even thinking I’d +back out on you when you were in trouble! What +kind of a guy do you think I am?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_52">52</div> +<p>“Take it easy, Buster.” Sandy threw his arm +around his friend’s shoulders. “I told Dad that’s +exactly what you would say.”</p> +<p class="tb">They made good time all that morning, and a +little after one o’clock they reached Fort Nelson. +Here they ate lunch with the Game Commissioner, +an old friend of Professor Crowell’s. +Later, while the station wagon and truck were +being refueled, the boys accompanied Tagish +Charley down to the Indian village on the banks +of the frozen Nelson River. Charley went straight +to the house of the headman in the village, and +they talked earnestly and excitedly in an Indian +dialect for some time.</p> +<p>On the way back to the truck, he told the boys: +“That man know everything go on in province. +He say many strangers pass this way. They say they +French trappers, but they speak strange tongue +and never sell any furs.”</p> +<p>“Did he say how many?” Sandy asked.</p> +<p>“Maybe six.”</p> +<p>Jerry clapped his mittened hands together. +“And there are five of us. Those aren’t bad odds.”</p> +<p>“In a fair fight,” Sandy corrected him. “But +from what I’ve heard and seen of these guys, they +probably have no idea of fighting fair.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_53">53</div> +<p>The sun went down early, but this night was +clear and the sky was full of stars, so they drove on +for quite a while after dark. At five-thirty they +came to a weather station near Lake Muncho. It +was a small place, manned by three technicians, +and although the five guests really crowded their +quarters, the weathermen were very hospitable.</p> +<p>“You chaps are lucky,” the man in charge told +them. “This high-pressure area should be with us +for the rest of the week. You’ll have fine weather +all the way to Alaska.”</p> +<p>“Gosh,” said Jerry, when he saw the small pine +tree trimmed with tinsel and colored balls and +lights that stood in one corner of the shack’s main +room. “I almost forgot—this is Christmas Eve.”</p> +<p>“It doesn’t seem like it, somehow,” Sandy said, +feeling a slight twinge of homesickness. “Not +without Mom’s turkey dinner and presents and +Christmas carols.”</p> +<p>“Christmas isn’t turkey and presents and +chimes,” Professor Crowell observed. “It’s what +you feel in the heart.”</p> +<p>“You’re right, sir,” Sandy admitted. Then he +grinned. “I guess Jerry and I are still kids at +heart.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_54">54</div> +<p>“That’s as it should be,” the professor said. +“It’s one of the things I admire most about you +Americans—your boyish exuberance. You’re always +looking for an excuse to give a party. I think +it’s one of the reasons why you have so many national +holidays.”</p> +<p>“Nothing shy about us Canadians when it comes +to a party either,” one of the weathermen put in. +He turned to his two partners. “Let’s show these +Yanks a real Christmas party. What do you say?”</p> +<p>There was a chorus of “ayes.”</p> +<p>After a hearty meal of tinned ham, fried potatoes +and frozen candied yams, topped off by a +flaming plum pudding, they gathered in a tight +circle about the little fireplace and sipped hot +cider and nibbled marshmallows toasted in the +winking embers. About nine o’clock the weathermen +picked up a Canadian Broadcasting Corporation +program of Christmas carols on their shortwave +radio and piped it through a big hi-fi speaker +over the fireplace.</p> +<p>“This is more like it,” Jerry sighed contentedly, +stuffing himself with marshmallows and roasted +nuts, staring at the lights twinkling on the Christmas +tree and listening to the strains of “Silent +Night.”</p> +<p>Dr. Steele grinned mysteriously. “And who +knows, maybe Santa will find you boys even up +here. Better pin up your stockings before you go +to bed.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_55">55</div> +<p>There were only two extra cots at the weather +station, so the boys, Lou Mayer and Tagish Charley +bedded down in their sleeping bags around +the fireplace. Just before he turned in, Charley +fed the dogs and let them run for a while on the +deserted highway. Then he penned them in on the +big front porch of the weather station.</p> +<p>Sandy fell asleep as soon as his head touched the +pillow, and the next thing he knew, sunlight was +streaming into his eyes. Yawning, he sat up and +looked around. Tagish Charley and Lou Mayer +were already up and off somewhere. Only Jerry +was still asleep, curled up in his sleeping bag like +a hibernating bear.</p> +<p>Sandy’s eyes widened as they came to rest on the +little Christmas tree in the corner. Beneath it were +piled assorted boxes wrapped in gaily colored +tissue and tied with tinseled ribbon. He leaned +over and shook his friend.</p> +<p>“Hey, Jerry, wake up!”</p> +<p>Jerry snorted and opened his eyes, heavy-lidded +with sleep. “Whazza matter?” he mumbled.</p> +<p>Sandy grinned. “Looks like Santa was here +while we were asleep. C’mon, get up.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_56">56</div> +<p>Sandy rolled out of his sleeping bag, put on his +trousers, shirt and boots and went over to the +tree. Kneeling down, he read the tags on the packages: +“‘<i>To Sandy from Dad</i>,’ ‘<i>To Jerry....</i>’ Hey! +There’s something here for everybody.”</p> +<p>He looked up and saw his father, Professor +Crowell and Lou Mayer standing in the doorway +that led into the tiny kitchen. They were all +smiling broadly.</p> +<p>“Well, don’t just sit there,” Dr. Steele said. +“Pass them around.”</p> +<p>As Sandy had observed, there was something +for everyone. An intricate chronometer wrist watch +that told the days of the month and even the phases +of the moon for Sandy; a candid camera for Jerry; +a gold fountain pen for Lou Mayer; and a fine +steel hunting knife with a silver inlaid handle for +Tagish Charley. Professor Crowell, with genuine +Yuletide spirit, gave a set of ivory chessmen he +had bought from an Indian at Fort Nelson to the +three weathermen. They, in turn, presented the +professor and Dr. Steele each with a pair of fine +snowshoes.</p> +<p>After they had burned the wrappings in the fire, +Sandy remarked rather sadly, “Gee, Dad, now I +wish I hadn’t left your present back home. But +Mom said we’d save all the gifts till we got back.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_57">57</div> +<p>Dr. Steele put his arm around his son’s shoulders. +“Sandy, the best present you could ever give +me is just being here.” He reached for Jerry with +his other arm. “That goes for you too, Jerry.”</p> +<p class="tb">Right after breakfast, they said goodbye to their +new friends and headed north again. They drove +into Watson Lake, just across the border in Yukon +territory, about two o’clock. Watson Lake was one +of the largest towns along the Alaska Highway. In +addition to a Mountie station and an R.C.A.F. +base, there was an airstrip for commercial airlines +and accommodations for putting up passengers +overnight. They drove straight out to the air force +base, where the sentry ushered them through the +gate with a snappy salute as soon as Professor +Crowell identified himself.</p> +<p>“The old prof really rates in these parts, doesn’t +he?” Jerry mused, as they drove through the precisely +laid-out checkerboard streets past neat log-cabin +barracks to the HQ building.</p> +<p>They were even more impressed by the reception +the professor received from the Base Commander, +an old friend he had worked with in +World War II.</p> +<p>“You’re just in time for Christmas dinner,” the +Commander told them happily. “Roast turkey +with all the trimmings.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_58">58</div> +<p>Jerry rubbed his stomach gleefully. “This stands +to be the best holiday season of our lives, Sandy. +Wherever we go people give us Christmas dinners.”</p> +<p>The geologists decided to stop over at Watson +Lake and get an early start the next morning for +the long, grueling uphill drive over the divide.</p> +<p>“What is the divide?” Jerry asked.</p> +<p>“A high shelf on the continent that determines +the direction of water drainage,” Dr. Steele explained. +“In the case of North America, it’s the +Rocky Mountains. All the rivers and streams on +one side of the Rockies run in a generally easterly +direction; on the other side they flow to the west.”</p> +<p>“Will we have any trouble driving up those +mountains with all this snow and ice?” Sandy inquired +of the R.C.A.F. Commander.</p> +<p>“Well, it’s a pretty tortuous route,” the officer +admitted. “But the ascent is fairly gradual. With +chains you shouldn’t have too much trouble. Of +course, if it should snow again, that would be +another matter.”</p> +<p>“We’ll get an early start,” Professor Crowell +told them. “About six <span class="sc">A.M.</span>”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_59">59</div> +<h2 id="c6"><span class="small">CHAPTER SIX</span> +<br />Attack from the Air</h2> +<p>It was gray and cold when they left Watson Lake +on the last leg of their journey on the Alaska +Highway.</p> +<p>“At Whitehorse, we’ll give the car and truck a +rest and take to the air,” Dr. Steele explained. +“The Canadian government has put a plane at +the professor’s disposal for as long as we’re up +here.”</p> +<p>But the big attraction at Whitehorse as far as the +boys and Tagish Charley were concerned was the +big dog-sled race to Skagway.</p> +<p>“The professor says it’s okay with him if Jerry +and I ride ballast,” Sandy informed the Indian. +“That’s if it’s all right with you?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_60">60</div> +<p>“Okay by me,” Charley said. He glanced sideways +at Jerry. “But this boy keep eating so much +he get too fat to sit on sled.”</p> +<p>Sandy let out a guffaw and Jerry pretended to +sulk. “You guys have a nerve,” he said. “You both +lick your plates cleaner than Black Titan does.”</p> +<p>“If Tubby, here, is too much of a load for the +huskies,” Sandy suggested, “we can always let him +run behind the sled.”</p> +<p>Suddenly, Charley hunched down and squinted +through the windshield. “Plane,” he announced +curtly.</p> +<p>The boys followed his gaze but could see nothing. +“Where?” Sandy asked.</p> +<p>Charley pointed toward a line of snow-capped +mountain peaks in the distance surrounded by +blue haze. Sandy saw a speck that moved out of +sight behind one of the peaks. He couldn’t make +out what it was.</p> +<p>“Are you sure it wasn’t a bird?” he said uncertainly.</p> +<p>“It plane,” Charley said firmly.</p> +<p>“Maybe it’s from one of the road stations,” Jerry +suggested.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_61">61</div> +<p>“I guess so,” Sandy said and pushed down a little +harder on the accelerator to close the gap between +them and the station wagon, which had +drawn about a quarter of a mile ahead.</p> +<p>Gradually the road climbed, winding and twisting +through canyons and hugging mountainsides +in hazardous stretches. At one such spot Jerry +peered down into the chasm that dropped off +steeply on one side and clapped his hands over his +eyes.</p> +<p>“I think I’ll get out and walk the rest of the +way,” he groaned.</p> +<p>Sandy’s face was grim as he nursed the big truck +around the curves, never letting the speedometer +needle climb above the 30 on the dial.</p> +<p>Then, without warning, a great throbbing roar +bore down on them from the rear. Instinctively, +they ducked their heads as it seemed to shatter +the roof of the cab. An instant later a plane +appeared through the windshield zooming down +the road toward the station wagon.</p> +<p>“Yipes!” Jerry exclaimed. “What does he think +he’s doing?”</p> +<p>“The crazy fool!” Sandy said angrily. “He could +have scared us off the highway. Look at him! He +can’t be more than fifty feet off the ground.”</p> +<p>The little ship skimmed over the station wagon +and started to climb in a wide arc.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_62">62</div> +<p>“You think it’s a scout plane from one of the +road stations?” Jerry said anxiously.</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” Sandy replied, trying to keep +one eye on the road and the other on the circling +plane. “It looks as if he’s coming back again.” +Gratefully, he noted that they were approaching +a less treacherous section of highway.</p> +<p>Once more they heard the little plane gunning +its motor at top speed as it flew up behind them. +As it passed over them, a small round hole appeared, +as if by magic, at the top of their windshield.</p> +<p>For a moment they were too stunned to react, +then Jerry yelled, “They’re shooting at us!”</p> +<p>With an unintelligible oath, Tagish Charley +whirled in the seat and reached back through the +curtain partition into the rear of the truck. +“Stop!” he told Sandy as he pulled out his hunting +rifle.</p> +<p>As Sandy brought the lumbering vehicle to a +skidding halt at the side of the road, he saw that +the station wagon had pulled up also, and the +three geologists were piling out frantically.</p> +<p>Tagish Charley motioned to a patch of timber +about a hundred yards away. “Go—fast.” The +three of them floundered through knee-deep drifts +as the engine roar of the plane built up in their ears.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_63">63</div> +<p>“Down!” Charley bellowed. “Flat!” As the boys +flattened out, the Indian turned, dropped to one +knee and threw the rifle to his shoulder. He +squeezed off two shots, leading the plane as if it +were a wild duck. In return, a fusillade of shots +from the plane kicked up the snow all around +them.</p> +<p>“Those guys really mean business!” Jerry +yelled as they scrambled to their feet and ran for +the woods again.</p> +<p>“This is like one of those nightmares where +you’re being chased by a wild animal and your legs +move in slow motion,” Sandy gasped, churning +through the snow.</p> +<p>They reached the trees just before the plane +swooped over them again. Crouching behind a +tree bole, Charley emptied his rifle at the retreating +ship. A slug splattered the bark just above his +head.</p> +<p>This time as the plane climbed, a thin spiral of +smoke trailed back from the engine, and the +rhythm of the motor was uneven.</p> +<p>Sandy let out a cheer. “You got him, Charley! +Good shooting.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_64">64</div> +<p>Immediately the plane broke off its attack and +headed north. Sandy led the way down the road to +where the three geologists were standing by the +station wagon, watching the ship dwindle to a +speck in the distance.</p> +<p>“Are you okay, Dad?” he yelled anxiously. +“Anybody hurt?”</p> +<p>“No, just badly frightened,” Dr. Steele replied. +“How about you fellows?”</p> +<p>“No casualties,” Sandy reported breathlessly. +“Just a bullet hole in the windshield.”</p> +<p>“It seems as if Charley saved the day,” Professor +Crowell said. He took one of the Indian’s big +hands in both of his. “I’m glad you decided to +come along, my friend.”</p> +<p>Charley gave him one of his rare, quick smiles. +“Bad men try hurt you—” He paused and drew a +finger across his throat.</p> +<p>“Like I said before,” Jerry declared, “I’m glad +he’s on our side.”</p> +<p>The Indian cocked his head toward the truck, +where the dogs were setting up a raucous clamor. +“I go see if huskies okay.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_65">65</div> +<p>Lou Mayer shivered and hugged his arms +tightly around his body. “And to think I could +have been a teacher in a nice cozy classroom in +some peaceful college in the balmy South instead +of shooting it out with enemy agents in the +Yukon—” He stopped short and looked guiltily +at Dr. Steele. “I’m sorry, sir. That just slipped +out.”</p> +<p>“That’s all right, Lou,” Dr. Steele said. “I think +by now the boys have a pretty good idea of what +we’re up against.” Sensing the question that was +forming in Sandy’s mind, he added hastily, “But +for the present, at least, that’s all we can tell you.” +As Lou and the professor were getting back into +the station wagon, he whispered to his son, “At +least this little incident answers our question +about Charley, once and for all.”</p> +<p>“It sure does,” Sandy agreed. “We’ll see you +later, Dad.” He and Jerry turned and trudged +back to the truck.</p> +<p>Jerry’s voice was small and numb. “Wow! Enemy +agents! Wow! Wait till the guys hear about +this!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_66">66</div> +<h2 id="c7"><span class="small">CHAPTER SEVEN</span> +<br />The Big Race</h2> +<p>They rolled into Whitehorse late that night. +The boys were surprised to find a fairly modern +city with paved streets, rows of stores and shops +and street lamps. As they drove down the main +street, festively decorated with wreaths, colored +lights and holly, Jerry shook his head.</p> +<p>“Why, it looks pretty much like Valley View.”</p> +<p>“They even have bowling alleys,” Sandy +pointed out. “And neon signs.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_67">67</div> +<p>Later, as they ate supper in the hotel dining +room, Dr. Steele told them about the origin of the +city: “Whitehorse was born in the gold rush, when +thousands of sourdoughs trekked over the mountains +from Alaska and the Pacific ports to seek +their fortunes. Whitehorse was sort of a jumping-off +place. They ran the rapids to Lake Laberge in +anything that would float—barges, rafts, scows—and +on down the Yukon River to Dawson. A few of +them struck bonanzas, but most of them found +only poverty and disillusionment. There’s just no +way to get rich quick.”</p> +<p>“I know you’re right, Dr. Steele,” Jerry remarked. +“Though I was kind of hoping that Sandy +and I could strike out north with Professor Crowell’s +dog team and stake ourselves a claim. That +French cook back at the road station even gave me +a jar of that sourdough of his to get us started.”</p> +<p>Professor Crowell laughed. “Before you boys +do anything like that, you had better see how you +stand up to the rigors of the trail during the big +race to Skagway.”</p> +<p>“When do we start?” Jerry asked.</p> +<p>“The day after tomorrow.”</p> +<p>Charley gulped down a small roll with one bite. +“Tomorrow we give huskies plenty exercise. Not +much to eat.”</p> +<p>Sandy frowned. “You’re going to starve them +before the race? Won’t it weaken them?”</p> +<p>Charley grunted. “No starve. Huskies can go +week without food. They little hungry, they run +faster and fight harder.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_68">68</div> +<p>“What are you, Lou and Professor Crowell going +to be doing the rest of this week?” Sandy asked +his father as they left the table.</p> +<p>His father thought about it a minute before +answering. “Well, tomorrow we thought we’d fly +up to Fairbanks and visit the University of Alaska. +The president’s an old friend of mine. We hope +to inspect some of the fossils they’ve dug up lately. +I understand they have some fine specimens on +display.”</p> +<p>“Gee, I wish we could come with you,” Sandy +said. “That sounds like interesting stuff.”</p> +<p>“Yeah,” Jerry agreed. “We kids in the States +never get to see things like that.”</p> +<p>“Why, that’s not so, Jerry,” Professor Crowell +objected. “Your American museums and universities +contain some of the most fascinating specimens +of prehistoric beasts that I’ve ever seen. +The last time I visited the American Museum of +Natural History in New York I saw the leg of a +baby mammoth that was completely intact. It had +been preserved for centuries in a glacier, and the +museum kept it in a deep freeze.”</p> +<p>“The professor’s right, Jerry,” Sandy admitted. +“The trouble with so many of the kids we know is +that they’re too lazy to use their eyes and their +ears—and their legs.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_69">69</div> +<p>Dr. Steele interrupted. “As a matter of fact, +did either of you boys know that Black Bart, the +notorious stagecoach bandit, is reputed to have +buried a strongbox with $40,000 in gold in the +hills back of Stockton?”</p> +<p>“Gosh, no!” Jerry exclaimed. “What do you say, +Sandy? Let’s go on a treasure hunt next summer. +That’s practically in our back yard.”</p> +<p>Professor Crowell smiled. “That beats digging +for gold in the Yukon, I’d say.”</p> +<p>“How long will you be in Fairbanks?” Sandy +wanted to know.</p> +<p>“Oh, no more than a day,” Dr. Steele said. “We +want to get back to Skagway to see you fellows +come across the finish line in the big race.”</p> +<p>“In first place, of course,” Jerry added smugly.</p> +<p>“That would be a treat,” Professor Crowell +said.</p> +<p>“Now I think we should all go up to our rooms +and get a good night’s sleep,” Dr. Steele suggested. +“We’ve had a long, trying day.”</p> +<p>“That sounds good to me,” Lou Mayer seconded. +“It will be a real pleasure to rest my weary +bones on an honest-to-goodness bed with a soft +mattress.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_70">70</div> +<p>“You chaps go ahead,” said Professor Crowell. +“I’m going down the street to the police barracks +and report that incident with the plane today.”</p> +<p>“Do you really think that’s wise?” Dr. Steele +asked gravely.</p> +<p>“The chief constable is a reliable man,” the +professor told him. “He can be depended upon to +be discreet. He may have received a report from +one of these local airstrips about a small plane +making an emergency landing. I don’t think those +fellows could have traveled too far with their engine +smoking like that. If they did land near here, +we can put our people on their track.”</p> +<p>Dr. Steele nodded. “Good idea. Do you want +me to come with you?”</p> +<p>“That won’t be necessary,” the older man assured +him. “I’ll take Charley along.”</p> +<p>Upstairs, when the boys had bathed and +changed into their pajamas, they lay in the dark +in the small hotel room they shared and discussed +the events of the day.</p> +<p>“What do you think it’s all about, anyway?” +Jerry wondered. “We know enemy agents are +after the professor. But why? It’s not like he was +an atomic scientist or something. What could they +want with a plain old geology professor?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_71">71</div> +<p>“I don’t know,” Sandy said worriedly. “But it +must have something to do with our reason for +coming up to Alaska. You can bet my dad and the +professor didn’t make the trip <i>just</i> to look at fossils +and take soil samples. Well, we’ll just have +to wait and see.”</p> +<p>“Br-r-r,” Jerry said, “it’s like walking through +a haunted house on Halloween Eve. You don’t +know what to expect. But whatever it is, you know +it won’t be good.” He threw back the covers and +got out of bed.</p> +<p>“Hey, where are you going?” Sandy demanded.</p> +<p>Jerry padded across the room barefoot. “I just +want to make sure that door is locked.”</p> +<p class="tb">The day of the big race was bitter cold and the +sky was leaden with snow clouds scudding across +the mountain peaks around Whitehorse. A huge +crowd had gathered at the starting line on the +outskirts of the city, and the air rang with merry +voices and the yelping of dogs. Sandy and Jerry +huddled close to a big bonfire outside the officials’ +tent while Tagish Charley made a last-minute +check of the sled and the dogs’ harnesses.</p> +<p>One of the judges came up and spoke to Sandy. +“I understand you boys are from the States. What +do you think of our big country?”</p> +<p>“It’s very exciting, sir,” Sandy said.</p> +<p>“And very cold,” Jerry added.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_72">72</div> +<p>The judge laughed. “Wait until you’re out on +the trail a few hours. Then you’ll know how cold +it is. You’re riding with Professor Crowell’s +team, right?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir. And we’re really looking forward to +it. This is some big event, isn’t it?”</p> +<p>The air was charged with a holiday atmosphere. +Men and women were laughing and singing as +they sipped from steaming mugs of coffee and tea; +and a few were drinking from mugs that Sandy +suspected contained even stronger brew.</p> +<p>“The race from Whitehorse is a time-honored +ritual,” the judge told them. “Back in the old +days, the course was even longer. From Dawson to +Skagway, almost six hundred miles.”</p> +<p>“Good night!” Jerry said. “Those poor dogs +must have worn their legs down to the shoulder.”</p> +<p>“As a matter of fact,” the judge went on, “Klondike +Mike Mahoney used to operate a mail and +freight route from Skagway to Dawson.”</p> +<p>“Who was Klondike Mike Mahoney?” Sandy +asked.</p> +<p>“A rather fantastic young man who came to the +Yukon during the gold rush and became a living +legend.” He smiled. “You might say he was our +counterpart of your Davy Crockett.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_73">73</div> +<p>“Hey! What are they doing?” Jerry pointed to +a group of Eskimos who were laughing and +whooping as they catapulted an Eskimo girl high +into the air from a large animal hide stretched +taut like a fireman’s net.</p> +<p>“That’s one of their favorite games,” the judge +said. “You’ve probably played something like it +at the beach—tossing a boy up in a blanket.”</p> +<p>“Yeah,” Jerry said. “But not like <i>that</i>. She’s +better than some acrobats I’ve seen on the stage.”</p> +<p>Time after time, the slender Eskimo girl shot +into the air, as high as twenty-five feet, like an +arrow, never losing her balance. While they were +watching her, Tagish Charley joined them by the +fire. In his one hand he held a sheet of oiled paper +on which were spread a half-dozen cubes that +looked like the slabs of chocolate and vanilla ice +cream served in ice-cream parlors.</p> +<p>“Eat,” Charley said, offering them to the boys.</p> +<p>Sandy took one gingerly. “Looks good. But +what is it?”</p> +<p>“<i>Muk-tuk</i>,” the Indian grunted.</p> +<p>“A Northern delicacy,” the judge said with a +straight face.</p> +<p>Jerry stuffed one of the cubes into his mouth +with gusto. “Say, that’s good. Tastes like coconut.”</p> +<p>Sandy nibbled at his with more reserve. “It +does a little. Maybe a little oilier. What’s it made +of?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_74">74</div> +<p>“Whale skin and blubber,” the judge informed +him. “The white part is blubber, and the dark is +hide.”</p> +<p>Jerry gagged momentarily, swallowed his last +mouthful, then smiled manfully. “I wish you +hadn’t said that, sir,” he declared. “But it still +tastes good.”</p> +<p>“You ready now?” Charley asked the boys. +“Time for race soon.”</p> +<p>They shook hands with the official and followed +Charley over to the starting line, where the teams +were lining up.</p> +<p>There were eight entries altogether. The dogs +were prancing about restlessly in their harnesses +like proud race horses, their curved tails waving +over their backs. They were charged with excitement +and seemed eager to get started. The huskies +on opposing teams eyed each other sullenly, +baring their long fangs and growling deep in their +throats. Occasionally, one would dart out of line +and snap at another dog, but there were no fights. +Black Titan, like the good lead dog he was, +watched his team closely, and whenever one of +them became too frisky and pugnacious, he would +bark a sharp command. Immediately, the offender +would drop his ears and quiet down.</p> +<p>“They act almost human,” Sandy said.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_75">75</div> +<p>“I’ll say,” Jerry agreed. “That Titan reminds +me of Mr. Hall, my math teacher. No horseplay +when he’s around.”</p> +<p>Charley helped the boys arrange themselves in +the sled, Sandy in back, with Jerry in front of him, +sitting between his legs. “Just like on a toboggan,” +Sandy observed. They tucked the big robe +that covered them around their sides as Charley +took his place behind the sled and gripped the +handles.</p> +<p>The sharp crack of the starter’s pistol split the +crisp air and Charley’s bellowing “Mush! Yea, +huskies, mush!” almost split Sandy’s eardrums. +The figures lined up on both sides of them +blurred rapidly as the sled picked up speed, and +wind and snow whipped into their faces. Gripping +the handles tightly, Charley matched the +pace of the team effortlessly with his long strides.</p> +<p>“He’s not going to run all the way, is he?” Jerry +yelled to Sandy.</p> +<p>“I guess he wants to give the team the best of it +this early in the race. He’ll hop on when he gets +winded.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_76">76</div> +<p>But a half hour went by and still the driver’s +boots pounded behind them in unbroken rhythm. +At first the seven teams were bunched pretty close +together on the hard-packed trail, then gradually +the distance between them widened. Sandy kept +glancing back as Charley urged their sled into the +lead and finally lost sight of the nearest team as +they rounded a hummock and entered a stretch of +forest.</p> +<p>“If we keep this pace up, we’ll be in Skagway +in time for lunch,” Jerry said.</p> +<p>The big Indian reined in the dogs when they +reached a spot where three separate narrower +paths forked off the main trail.</p> +<p>“Which way do we go?” Sandy called to him.</p> +<p>Still breathing as easily as if he had taken a +short walk around the block, Charley answered, +“All go to Skagway. We take middle trail. More +snow, but less up and down.” Having made up his +mind, Charley shouted to the dogs: “Mush! +Mush! Mush, huskies!” And they were off again.</p> +<p>A short time later they left the trail and went +skimming down a windswept slope that stretched +away into a barren icy plain. Now Charley hopped +onto the back of the sled and rode like a Roman +charioteer, shouting encouragement to the dogs in +Indian. Although there was no broken trail, the +sled rode solidly on the surface of the old snow +crusted over thickly by the 50-below-zero cold.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_77">77</div> +<p>“This is really living!” Jerry exulted, his voice +trailing off eerily in the slipstream behind the +sled. At noon they stopped to rest the dogs in the +lee of a rock overhang. Sandy broke out a thermos +of steaming coffee and sandwiches, and Charley +threw the huskies some chunks of lean dry +meat.</p> +<p>“How far do you think we’ve come so far?” +Jerry asked.</p> +<p>Charley shrugged. “Twenty, maybe twenty-five +mile.”</p> +<p>“Say, that’s pretty good.” He looked back in the +direction they had come from. “Where do you +suppose those other guys are?”</p> +<p>Charley finished his sandwich, rumpled up the +wax-paper wrapping and set a match to it, warming +his hands over the brief torch it created. He +motioned to the west. “Some follow other trail. +Maybe a few stay just in back of us. Let us break +new trail for them. Then when our dogs tired, +they fresh and catch us.” He cupped one hand to +his ear. “Listen!”</p> +<p>The boys held their breaths for a minute, +straining to hear. They could just make out the +sound of barking dogs floating on the wind in the +distance.</p> +<p>“He’s right,” Jerry said indignantly. “That’s a +sneaky thing to do.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_78">78</div> +<p>“No, it’s not,” Sandy disagreed. “No more than +a track man letting another runner set the pace.”</p> +<p>“No worry,” Charley assured them. “We win +anyway.”</p> +<p>“What a man you are, Charley.” Jerry regarded +the big Indian with admiration. “We could use +you in the fullback spot on the Valley View football +team.” He grinned at Sandy. “I bet he could +walk down the field with both teams on his back.”</p> +<p>Charley squinted up at the sky abruptly. The +ceiling seemed even lower and grayer than before. +“It snow soon. We better go.”</p> +<p>Sandy looked up too. “How can you tell?”</p> +<p>“I know,” Charley said somberly. “Bad storm +on the way.”</p> +<p>“Oh, great!” Jerry said. “What happens if we +get caught out in this deep freeze in a blizzard?”</p> +<p>“There are check points every twenty-five +miles,” Sandy recalled what the professor had told +him. “We must be pretty close to one now, Charley. +Think we should stop and get a weather report?”</p> +<p>Charley nodded toward the east. “Two, three +miles over that way. On main trail. We go there, +we lose race. We stop at next post, at halfway +mark. Three hours away maybe.”</p> +<p>“I guess that’s the only thing to do,” Sandy +agreed. “Well, let’s get moving.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_79">79</div> +<p>Ten minutes later, the snow began to come +down, fine granular pellets that stung like sand as +the rising wind blasted it into their faces. Visibility +was reduced to no more than fifty feet. Even +the dogs were slowed down. The snow, mixed +with the loose surface fluff of previous falls, piled +up quickly in drifts. As it dragged at his boots +more and more, Charley began to mutter angrily +to himself in Indian.</p> +<p>“I don’t like it, Sandy,” Jerry said uneasily. +“We’re never going to make that check point before +dark.”</p> +<p>“At this rate we’ll never make it at all,” Sandy +retorted. “Listen, Jerry, what do you say we get +out and trot along with Charley? It’s bad enough +pulling the sled by itself without our weight too.”</p> +<p>“Good idea,” Jerry admitted. “Let’s give the +dogs a break.”</p> +<p>Sandy signaled Charley to stop and told him of +their plan.</p> +<p>“All right,” Charley agreed. “I go up front and +break trail.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_80">80</div> +<h2 id="c8"><span class="small">CHAPTER EIGHT</span> +<br />Lost in a Blizzard</h2> +<p>For the next half hour the boys were able to +keep up with the sled. But in the ever-deepening +snow, their legs grew heavier and heavier. At last, +they lost sight of the sled in the swirling flakes. +When Jerry slipped and fell, Sandy cupped his +hands to his mouth like a megaphone and yelled: +“Charley! Char-r-ley! Wait for us.”</p> +<p>Gasping for breath, Jerry struggled up to his +hands and knees. “I’ve had it, Sandy,” he gasped. +“I can’t go any farther.”</p> +<p>Sandy helped his friend to get up and supported +him with one arm. “C’mon, boy, we can +make it. As soon as we catch up with the team you +can rest awhile in the sled.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_81">81</div> +<p>Clutching each other tightly, they staggered +forward, trying to follow the tracks of the sled +runners. But before they had covered twenty-five +feet, the blowing snow had obliterated the trail. +Sandy continued on doggedly in the direction he +thought the team had taken, dragging Jerry with +him. Every few steps he would stop and call: +“Char-ley! Char-ley!” But there was no answer—only +the moaning of the wind and the hiss of the +snow beating against the fabric of their parkas.</p> +<p>Once more Jerry sagged to his knees. “We’re +lost, pal,” he muttered. “Look, I’m exhausted. I +can’t go a step farther. You go ahead and look for +Charley. When you find him, you can come back +for me.”</p> +<p>“Don’t be crazy, Jerry. Our best chance is to +stick together. If we keep walking, we’re bound to +catch up to the team. Once Charley finds we’re +gone, he’ll stop and wait for us.”</p> +<p>Jerry’s voice cracked. “I can’t see my hand in +front of my face. We don’t even know if we’re going +in the right direction.”</p> +<p>While he was speaking, a low, mournful howl +drifted to them on the wind from somewhere on +their left. Sandy clutched Jerry’s arm. “You hear +that?” he said tensely.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_82">82</div> +<p>Jerry’s voice brightened. “That must be the +team. C’mon.” With renewed vigor, he veered off +in the direction of the howling.</p> +<p>Sandy grabbed him with both hands. “No, +wait! It could be a wolf.”</p> +<p>Jerry stopped dead. “Oh my gosh!” he murmured. +“What are we going to do?”</p> +<p>Sandy dusted the snow that had crusted on his +eyebrows with the back of one mitten. “I don’t +know. I still think we’re heading in the right direction. +Let’s go a little farther. If we don’t find +Charley and the team soon, we can always head +over that way.”</p> +<p>The snow was coming down so hard now that +every breath was an effort. Sandy felt as if he were +being smothered in a sea of white cotton. He +stopped as the howling broke out again, in a chorus +this time.</p> +<p>“Maybe you’re right,” he said to Jerry. “That +sure sounds like a bunch of dogs.”</p> +<p>“Yeah, let’s give it a try, anyhow,” Jerry +pressed.</p> +<p>They were just about to veer off in the direction +of the howling when they heard a familiar +harsh rumbling directly in front of them. It was +the unmistakable growl of a husky.</p> +<p>“Charley!” Sandy called out. “Titan! Black Titan!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_83">83</div> +<p>A succession of sharp yelps knifed through the +storm. “That’s the team all right!” Jerry cried.</p> +<p>Miraculously, their legs seemed to find new +strength, and they practically ran the rest of the +way through the knee-deep snow. Directly ahead +of them, the sled loomed out of the darkness. The +dogs, in harness, were seated on their haunches or +huddled low in drifts to escape the force of the +wind. But Charley was nowhere to be seen.</p> +<p>Jerry sagged against the back of the sled. “Oh +my gosh! What happened to him?”</p> +<p>“He must have doubled back to look for us and +we didn’t see him in the storm.” Night had deepened +the blinding downfall even more.</p> +<p>There was a tremor in Jerry’s voice. “You don’t +think the wolves got him, Sandy?”</p> +<p>“No, they rarely attack a man. Especially with +the dogs here. Besides, Charley had a rifle.” He +rummaged through the packs on the front of the +sled. “It’s not here, so he must have taken it with +him.”</p> +<p>“What do we do now?” Jerry wanted to know. +“Go back and try to find Charley?”</p> +<p>“That’s the worst thing we could do,” Sandy +said emphatically. “We’d get lost but good. No, +the best thing to do is to wait here until Charley +gets back.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_84">84</div> +<p>Jerry was skeptical. “I’m not sure even an old +woodsman like Charley can find his way back in +this soup.”</p> +<p>“Maybe if we shout to him he’ll hear us,” Sandy +suggested.</p> +<p>For the next ten minutes the boys pitted their +voices against the intensity of the raging storm. +But even in their own ears their shouts sounded +pitifully weak. At last they gave it up.</p> +<p>“It’s no use,” Sandy said hoarsely. “We’ll just +have to wait.” He crouched down in the lee of the +sled.</p> +<p>What seemed like hours passed and still there +was no sign of Charley. The boys could feel the +cold seeping through their heavy clothing and +stiffening their limbs. They were both badly +frightened now.</p> +<p>“Sandy,” Jerry pleaded, “we just can’t sit here +and do nothing. We’ll freeze to death. My nose +and cheeks are numb now.”</p> +<p>Sandy fought back the panic that was rising in +him too. “If we don’t lose our heads, we’ll be okay, +Jerry. The way it looks now, we’re going to have +to spend the night here. Tomorrow, they’ll have +search parties out looking for us. I bet the rest of +the contestants are in the same boat we are.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_85">85</div> +<p>“We’ll be stiff as washboards by then,” Jerry +prophesied. “Frozen wolf food.”</p> +<p>“Don’t be a nut,” Sandy snapped. “Now get up +and help me rig up a lean-to.”</p> +<p>“A lean-to?” Jerry said wonderingly. “What +kind of a lean-to?”</p> +<p>“The kind Charley says the Eskimos build on +the trail. They fasten a big hide to the side of the +sled that’s out of the wind and peg the other side +down to the ice, or weight it down. The snow piles +up against the far side of the sled, forming a solid +windbreak, and you have yourself a cozy little +tent.”</p> +<p>“We don’t have any hides,” Jerry said.</p> +<p>“We have that big rug in the sled. C’mon, let’s +get to work.”</p> +<p>While Sandy fastened the robe to the top of the +sled’s guard rail, Jerry weighted the far side down +with a pair of snowshoes he found in the sled and +heaped up snow on top of the shoes until they +weighted down the robe securely. When they +were finished, Sandy scooped the excess snow out +from beneath the robe and they had a small lean-to +with just enough room in it to shelter two people.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_86">86</div> +<p>“Well, that’s that,” Sandy said with satisfaction, +brushing off his mittens. “Now I’ll unhitch the +dogs while you get our supper ready.”</p> +<p>The erection of the lean-to had renewed Jerry’s +confidence. “What’ll you have?” he inquired flippantly. +“Roast turkey with chestnut stuffing or a +thick steak smothered with onions and a side of +French fries?”</p> +<p>Sandy played the game with him. “No, I’m getting +sick of that goppy stuff. How about a couple +of frozen sandwiches and a thermos of cold coffee?”</p> +<p>“Just what I had in mind,” Jerry called to him +as he rummaged through the packs on the sled. +“Are we going to feed the huskies?”</p> +<p>“Sure, get out some of that meat Charley keeps +in that big tin can up front.”</p> +<p>The dogs seemed overjoyed to see Sandy. They +leaped about him, wagging their tails furiously +and barking and whining.</p> +<p>“I bet you guys are hungry,” Sandy spoke to +them. “Keep calm. Your dinner’s coming right +up.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_87">87</div> +<p>When he knelt beside Black Titan to remove +his harness, the big lead dog jockeyed obediently +into the proper position. As soon as he +was free, he nuzzled affectionately against the +boy’s cheek. “Hey!” Sandy laughed. “That is the +coldest nose I ever felt in my life.” He ruffled up +the thick fur around the husky’s throat with his +fingers, and was surprised to feel the soothing +warmth deep down in the animal’s undercoat. +“Boy, I wish I had your fur, Titan. No wonder +you can sleep in a snow foxhole.” He pressed both +hands against Titan’s body gratefully. “That feels +good, old boy.”</p> +<p>Jerry came up behind him with the can of dog +meat. “And look what else I found.” He held out +a bulky .45 Colt automatic. “It’s fully loaded, +too.”</p> +<p>The sight of the lethal-looking pistol was reassuring. +“Dad must have given it to Charley before +we left,” Sandy reasoned. “He asked me if I +wanted to take a gun along, but I knew Charley +had his rifle, so I didn’t bother. It’s a good thing +we have it. Now maybe we can signal to Charley. +Fire a few shots in the air to let him know where +we are.”</p> +<p>“Good idea,” Jerry agreed. “And I’ve got an +even better one.”</p> +<p>“What’s that?”</p> +<p>“Let’s send old Titan out to find his buddy. +Bet you he can do it.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_88">88</div> +<p>Sandy was pessimistic. “I don’t know if he could +pick up Charley’s trail in a storm like this, but we +can give it a try.”</p> +<p>While the dogs were gulping down their food, +the boys rummaged through Charley’s gear until +they found a heavy wool shirt that the Indian had +recently worn. When Black Titan had finished +eating, Sandy held the shirt under his nose.</p> +<p>“Charley, Charley,” he kept repeating. “Go +find Charley, Titan.” He slapped the husky on the +rump. “Go on, Titan!”</p> +<p>Titan began to whine as he sniffed at the shirt. +Then he trotted off into the blizzard with his head +down. When he had disappeared from sight, Jerry +turned to Sandy. “Well, what do we do now?”</p> +<p>“Eat supper and climb into our sleeping bags, +I guess. But first I want to fire a couple of shots to +see if we can signal Charley.”</p> +<p>He took out the heavy automatic and levered a +shell into the firing chamber. Pointing it up in +the air, he pulled the trigger. The muzzle flash +lit up the night briefly like lightning, but the shot +was muffled by the wind and thick curtain of snow. +The dogs milled around nervously and began to +bark. Sandy fired one more shot, then shoved the +gun back in the pocket of his parka.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_89">89</div> +<p>“I bet those shots didn’t carry over five hundred +feet. I feel as though we’re inside a vacuum. I +don’t want to waste any more shells until this gale +lets up a little. C’mon, let’s sack in for the night.”</p> +<p>They gathered up the sandwiches, coffee thermos, +Coleman stove and sleeping bags and crawled +into the lean-to. The blowing snow had sealed up +all the cracks and even the openings at either end +of the makeshift shelter. Sandy burrowed through +a drift at the rear of the sled to form an entranceway.</p> +<p>“This back end gets less wind,” he explained to +Jerry.</p> +<p>The interior of the lean-to was cramped, but +seated with their backs resting against the sides +of the sled and their legs crossed in front of them, +they were not too uncomfortable. Sandy pumped +up the pressure in the one-burner gasoline stove +and lit it. He turned the wick up abnormally high +until the pale-blue flame became streaked with +yellow and began to smoke slightly. Although +this was a waste of fuel and reduced the cooking +efficiency of the stove, it provided more light and +warmth.</p> +<p>“Say, this is all right,” Jerry said, grinning. “It +reminds me of the time we went on a Boy Scout +camping trip and slept in pup tents.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_90">90</div> +<p>Sandy grinned. “The only difference was we +were only a ten-minute walk away from home and +there was a hot-dog stand across the road from the +bivouac area.” He took a half-frozen sandwich out +of the knapsack and passed it to Jerry. “Be careful +you don’t break your teeth when you bite into +it.”</p> +<p>“Thanks, pal.” Jerry filled two aluminum canteen +cups from the coffee thermos and sipped +from one. “It’s lukewarm, anyway,” he commented.</p> +<p>“I’ve got an idea,” Sandy said. “We can heat the +cups on the stove and sit the sandwiches on top of +the cup. That way the steam will thaw out the +bread.”</p> +<p>“Brilliant. If it wasn’t so cold, I’d take my hat +off to you.”</p> +<p>Ten minutes later, they were munching hungrily +on a relatively decent meal. Jerry inhaled +the steam that was rising from his canteen cup and +sighed contentedly. “I know it must be my imagination, +but right now I’d say this is the best-tasting +chow I ever ate.”</p> +<p>Sandy laughed and nodded. “We used to say the +same thing about the mickeys we roasted in the +corner lot when we were kids. All black with ashes +and dirt, but boy, they sure did taste good.” He +lowered the wick a little on the stove. “It’s probably +the hot coffee, but I’m beginning to get +warm in here.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_91">91</div> +<p>“What’s wrong with being warm?” Jerry protested. +“Turn it up as high as it will go.”</p> +<p>Sandy frowned. “When you live in frigid temperatures +it’s safer to feel a little cold than it is +to be overheated, because when you cool off, the +perspiration will turn to ice on your skin.”</p> +<p>“Perspiration!” Jerry gawked incredulously. +“Are you kidding?”</p> +<p>“Well, we’re not going to take any chances. As +soon as we’re finished eating, I’m going to turn +off the stove altogether.”</p> +<p>“Not until I’m snug in my bedroll,” Jerry +begged.</p> +<p>Sandy looked worried. “Poor Charley. He’s not +going to be very snug tonight. No bedroll, no +food. Gee, I wish I knew what happened to him.”</p> +<p>“What makes it worse,” Jerry said gloomily, “is +that it’s our fault. If we hadn’t dragged so far behind, +he wouldn’t have had to go looking for us.”</p> +<p>The boys finished their sandwiches and coffee +in subdued silence, staring out into the stormy +night through the diminishing black hole of the +entranceway.</p> +<p>“You know,” Sandy said suddenly, “in another +hour we’ll be snowed in tight inside this lean-to.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_92">92</div> +<p>Jerry surveyed the drifting snow anxiously. +“You’re right. Like a tomb. We’ll be able to get +out, though, won’t we?”</p> +<p>Sandy reached over and enlarged the opening +with one hand. “Oh, yes. It’s as light as powder.”</p> +<p>After they had finished eating and wrapped up +the garbage, they prepared to bed down for the +night. “We’d better do this one at a time,” Sandy +suggested. “We’d only be in each other’s way moving +around in here together. I’ll go outside until +you’re all settled. You lie with your head up at +the front of the sled. I’ll lie the opposite way. +That way we’ll have more room.”</p> +<p>Crawling on hands and knees, Sandy pushed +through the drift that was blocking up the opening. +A furious blast of bitter cold wind took his +breath away as he got to his feet and sent him reeling +back from the sled. It was even warmer inside +the lean-to than he had realized. He recalled that +Tagish Charley had a powerful flashlight in his +gear and walked through knee-high snow to the +front of the sled to look for it. It would be wise to +keep it handy in the lean-to, he decided. He +found the light easily and turned it on to see how +the dogs were making out. They were all huddled +together behind the windbreak of the sled, growling +and shifting around restlessly. As the flash +beam swept over them, a few cringed and bared +their fangs. Their behavior distressed Sandy, who +had expected that by now they would all be cozily +balled up in holes and snoring peacefully. He +skirted around them and walked back to consult +with Jerry. Beaming the light on the lean-to, he +saw that the snow was mounding it over like an +igloo. Once more he had to dig the snow away +from the entrance before he could get in.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_93">93</div> +<p>When he crawled inside, he saw that Jerry was +stretched out in his sleeping bag, the hooded +cover zipped up tightly around his head. Only his +eyes, nose and mouth were showing.</p> +<p>“How’s the weather outside?” he asked Sandy.</p> +<p>Sandy shook the snow off his hood. “Same as before. +Terrible. The dogs are acting up, too. I’m +worried.”</p> +<p>“Maybe they’re cold.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think so. They act frightened.”</p> +<p>“Me too. We’re snowbound in the Yukon. +Charley’s missing, probably frozen to death in a +snowdrift. Our food is about gone. What a mess! +I’m scared plenty.”</p> +<p>At that moment a long, mournful animal howl +rose clearly above the intensity of the wind. Before +it trailed off, another howl and still another +joined it, forming an eerie chorus.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_94">94</div> +<p>Jerry snapped upright like a jack-in-the-box, his +face drained of blood. “Wolves!”</p> +<p>“And close by,” Sandy said grimly.</p> +<p>Outside, the dogs were really setting up an uproar +now, snarling and barking frantically.</p> +<p>Despite the seriousness of the situation, Sandy +had to smile as he watched his friend struggling to +get out of the sleeping bag. In his excitement, +Jerry couldn’t work the zipper. “Get me out of +this strait jacket!” he yelled.</p> +<p>“Take it easy,” Sandy said. “In that bag you +look like a big fat hot dog with a face.”</p> +<p>“Not so loud,” Jerry cautioned him. “The +wolves might hear you. Just hurry and get me out +of here.”</p> +<p>Between them they finally got the sleeping bag +unzipped, and Jerry rolled out. Sandy took the +Army .45 out of his pocket and checked the clip. +There were still four shells in it.</p> +<p>“Do we have any more ammunition for that +cannon?” Jerry asked anxiously.</p> +<p>“Probably up front in Charley’s gear. I’m going +up to get it.”</p> +<p>“I’m going with you,” Jerry said promptly. +“One of those wolves might poke his snout in here +while you’re gone.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_95">95</div> +<p>They scrambled out into the blizzard and stood +up. Sandy switched on the flashlight and swept it +in a wide circle about them. The powerful beam +seemed to run into a solid wall of white no more +than fifty feet away. He turned it on the dogs, +who were setting up such a loud racket that it +drowned out the howling of the wolves. The huskies +were all on their feet now, standing stiff-legged +with their tails curled tightly beneath their bellies. +Their lips were drawn back over their teeth, +and the thick fur around their necks bristled like +porcupine quills. Sandy swung the light in the direction +of their gaze, and felt his heart flip and +miss a beat. Glowing greenishly through the falling +flakes was a circle of eyes. They were there for +just an instant and then faded back out of range +of the beam.</p> +<p>Jerry gripped Sandy’s arm tightly. “There +must be a whole pack of ’em. They’re just waiting +for us to fall asleep and then they’ll jump us.”</p> +<p>One of the huskies began to slink forward toward +the wolves, his belly flattened close to the +ground.</p> +<p>“Come back here, boy!” Sandy shouted. +“They’ll tear him to pieces,” he muttered to +Jerry. He cocked the automatic and aimed in the +direction of the glowing eyes. “I hate to waste +ammo like this, but maybe we can scare them off.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_96">96</div> +<p>He fired three shots. The last shot was answered +by a sharp yelp of pain.</p> +<p>“You got one!” Jerry yelled excitedly.</p> +<p>“Shh! Listen!” Sandy said. Above the wailing +of the storm they could hear wild snarling and +yelping.</p> +<p>“Sounds like they’re fighting among themselves,” +Jerry said.</p> +<p>The commotion ended as abruptly as it had begun, +and although Sandy kept searching the darkness +with the light for a long time, there was no +further sign of the wolves. At last, when the dogs +quieted down and curled up in burrows, the boys +relaxed.</p> +<p>“I guess the shots did scare them off at that,” +Sandy decided. “Now let’s find that box of ammo +in Charley’s pack, and then we can go back inside +and see if we can get some rest.”</p> +<p>“Sleep?” Jerry said. “Are you kidding? Suppose +they come back again?”</p> +<p>“The dogs will warn us if they do.”</p> +<p>Jerry shivered. “Okay. But I’ll take the bed +next to the wall, just in case.”</p> +<p>The snow had completely blocked the entrance, +and they had to shovel energetically to +clear it. “Man, it’s really warm in here,” Jerry +said as he crawled into the lean-to.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_97">97</div> +<p>The snow wall that had built up at the other +end of the lean-to and on the sled side was smooth +and glistening. “Just like an igloo,” Sandy said. +As soon as they were inside their sleeping bags, +he turned off the Coleman stove.</p> +<p>Jerry sighed as the little hut was plunged into +pitch-darkness. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think +I was back in my little trundle bed in Valley +View.”</p> +<p>“Go to sleep,” Sandy grunted. He was facing the +entrance and the automatic was within easy reach +in his side pocket. In an emergency, he knew he +could fire right through the sleeping bag.</p> +<p>Gradually, his eyes became accustomed to the +darkness and he could make out the faint outline +of the round doorway. His eyelids grew heavier +and the hole grew smaller and smaller. Then he +dropped off to sleep.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_98">98</div> +<h2 id="c9"><span class="small">CHAPTER NINE</span> +<br />Trapped in an Icy Tomb</h2> +<p>When Sandy awoke, it was still pitch-dark inside +the lean-to. He was about to roll over and go back +to sleep, but he decided to see what time it was +first. He pulled down the zipper of his sleeping +bag, fumbled for the flashlight and flicked the +switch.</p> +<p>The sudden burst of light woke up Jerry. +“Whazza matter?” he mumbled.</p> +<p>“Go back to sleep,” Sandy told him. “It’s still +the middle of the night.” He turned the spot on +his wrist watch. “What the—” he exclaimed, and +sat up, startled. He squinted at the dial again, but +there was no mistake. It said 7:30. “That’s impossible! +It must have stopped!” But he held it up +to his ear and heard the steady, rhythmic ticking.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_99">99</div> +<p>“What’s the matter with you?” Jerry, fully +awake now, propped himself up on one elbow.</p> +<p>Suddenly, Sandy began to laugh. “Oh, I get it. +We’re snowed in.” He explained to Jerry. “My +watch said it was half past seven, but I couldn’t believe +it because it was so dark in here. It’s the +snow; it’s blocking out the daylight.”</p> +<p>“It’s really morning?” Jerry said doubtfully. +“Well, let’s go out and find out.” He unzippered +his sleeping bag.</p> +<p>Propping the torch up in the snow, Sandy tried +to push his head and shoulders through the drift +that blocked the entrance. It was like running into +a stone wall. “Ouch!” he cried. He dug at the +snow with his fingers, but his mittens slid futilely +off a surface that was as smooth as a skating rink.</p> +<p>“Well, come on,” Jerry said impatiently. “Let’s +go.”</p> +<p>“Door’s frozen up,” Sandy told him. He sat +down and tried to kick through the ice with his +feet, but couldn’t dent it. He turned to Jerry. +“Try your end. This one is plugged up solid.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_100">100</div> +<p>“So is this end,” Jerry reported, after pounding +away with his hands and feet for several minutes. +“So, we’ll go out the side.” He grabbed one corner +of the robe and tugged it loose from where +it was anchored under the snow, while Sandy +worked on the other corner. Then they pulled it +aside, exposing a smooth, glittering expanse of ice +behind it.</p> +<p>Sandy tested it with his fist and whistled. “Like +iron.”</p> +<p>There was a tremor in Jerry’s voice. “What +goes on around here? Maybe I wasn’t kidding last +night when I called this thing a tomb.”</p> +<p>“Take it easy,” Sandy soothed. “It’s only snow.”</p> +<p>“Yeah, ice,” Jerry repeated. “You ever see +them drive trucks across the ice on frozen lakes? +I’ve seen it in newsreels. That ice is pretty rugged +stuff.”</p> +<p>“You got a knife?” Sandy asked. “I left mine in +the sled.”</p> +<p>“So did I. Say, let’s try to move the sled,” +Jerry suggested.</p> +<p>They both shoved and pulled at the sled for a +long time, but it seemed welded to the spot. At +last, Jerry sank down exhausted. “I don’t get it. +What happened?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_101">101</div> +<p>Sandy played the light over the walls of the +lean-to. “I can guess. Remember how cozy and +warm it got in here last night? Between that stove +and the heat from our bodies, I bet the temperature +in here was a good fifty degrees higher than it +was outside. The heat radiates through the snow, +causing it to melt partially. Then it freezes up. +That’s how the Eskimos harden the walls of their +snow houses. They build big bonfires in them.”</p> +<p>“Only they don’t forget to make doors in ’em,” +Jerry said grimly. “Another thousand years from +now, I can see a couple of geologists like your dad +and the professor digging us out. Preserved in a +block of ice like that baby mammoth.”</p> +<p>“It’s no joking matter,” Sandy said. “We’ve +got to think of a way to break out of here. One +thing, though: they’re bound to send out search +parties and sooner or later they’ll find the sled.”</p> +<p>“What makes you think so?” Jerry demanded. +“The sled is probably covered with snow by now +and this must look like any other part of the landscape. +And you don’t think those dogs are going to +hang around here forever, do you? They’ve probably +run off looking for food already.”</p> +<p>Sandy felt his heart begin to race madly. “I +never thought of that,” he admitted. “Well, it’s +up to us then. What have we got that we can use +as a chipping tool?”</p> +<p>“Only thing I can think of that’s metal is the +Coleman stove.”</p> +<p>“That’s no good. No sharp edges.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_102">102</div> +<p>They were silent for a moment, then Sandy +snapped his fingers. “I’ve got it! The gun!” He +took the bulky .45 out of his pocket and held it up +in the light. “We’ll blast our way out.”</p> +<p>Jerry looked worried. “You know what they +say about shooting fish in a rain barrel? Well, if +one of those slugs ever ricochets inside here, we’ll +be dead fish.”</p> +<p>“It’s our only chance,” Sandy said. He loaded +the gun, cocked the hammer and nudged off the +safety with his thumb. Holding the gun at arm’s +length away from him, he pointed the muzzle at +the end where the entrance had been. “Better +make sure your hood is pulled tight over your +ears,” he advised Jerry.</p> +<p>“I’m all set. Let ’er go.”</p> +<p>Sandy shut his eyes and tightened his finger on +the trigger. The explosion reverberated like a +bomb in the small lean-to. Sandy felt the shock +wave slam into his face, and the recoil almost tore +the gun out of his hand. He sat there stunned for +a while.</p> +<p>Jerry’s voice screaming in his ear brought +him out of it. “Sandy, it worked!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_103">103</div> +<p>He opened his eyes to the most wonderful sight +he had ever seen. A beam of sunlight was pouring +through an opening in the ice wall. The potent, +snub-nosed .45 slug had blasted a hole almost four +inches in diameter. In the light of the flashlight, +he also observed that the ice around the hole was +shattered and veined from the shock wave.</p> +<p>Dropping the gun back into his pocket, Sandy +got on his knees and began to work on the opening +with his hands. Snow and ice crumbled easily, +and before long he had enlarged the hole so that +he was able to squirm through. Jerry was right behind +him. Painfully, they stood up.</p> +<p>“Oh,” Jerry groaned. “I feel like a dog on its +hind legs.” Looking up at the clear blue sky, he +threw kisses into the air with both hands. “Mr. +Sun, I never figured we’d ever see you again.”</p> +<p>It was a perfect, cloudless day without even a +breeze. Looking around him, Sandy realized that +the high winds of the night before had exaggerated +the intensity of the blizzard. Except where it +had drifted around the sled and lean-to, no more +than twelve inches of new snow had fallen. He +discovered, too, that they had been traveling +along the ridge of a low hill and had stopped on +the most exposed spot in all the surrounding terrain. +On either side, the ground sloped away +gently into protected valleys thick with fir trees.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_104">104</div> +<p>After spending hours shut up in the gloom of +the lean-to, the boys found the sunlight on the +snow blinding. They dug their smoked glasses out +of their packs and put them on. The dogs crowded +around them, yelping and wagging their tails.</p> +<p>“I guess they’re hungry,” Sandy said. “Is there +any meat left?”</p> +<p>“A little,” Jerry said. He went to get the can of +food from the front of the sled. As he threw the +last chunks of raw horse meat to the huskies, he +eyed it forlornly. “I’m so hungry I could eat it +myself.”</p> +<p>Sandy grinned. “Even some of that <i>muk-tuk</i> +would look good to me now.”</p> +<p>“Are the sandwiches all gone?”</p> +<p>“We finished them last night.”</p> +<p>They had just finished feeding the dogs when +a faint “Ha-lo-oo-oo...” floated through the +still air. On a distant ridge the figure of a man and +a dog were silhouetted against the sky.</p> +<p>“It’s Charley and Titan!” the boys yelled in +unison. They began to leap up and down, waving +their arms and screaming, “Charley! Over here!”</p> +<p>Less than a quarter of an hour later, the Indian +came plowing up the hill with Black Titan floundering +behind him. They hugged him joyfully +and pounded his back, and even Charley was grinning +from ear to ear. He listened solemnly while +they related their harrowing experiences with the +wolves and how they had been trapped in the lean-to.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_105">105</div> +<p>Charley had had a pretty bad time of it himself. +He admitted that, for the first time in his life, he +had lost his way when he went back to look for +the boys, and had somehow mistaken east for west. +Confused and blinded by the shifting gale winds +and whipping snow, he had wandered off to an +adjacent ridge. After walking around for hours, +he had become exhausted—he had been tired out +by running twenty-five miles behind the sled to +start with—and erected a lean-to in a clump of +thick pine trees in the sheltered valley. He had +built a big fire and had fallen asleep beside it almost +immediately. The next thing he knew, Black +Titan was licking his face and the first streaks of +dawn were filtering through the pine branches +overhead. He had been searching for the boys +when he heard the gunshot.</p> +<p>Using the snowshoes as shovels, the three of +them dug the sled out of the snow bank. The +intense heat of the sun softened the hard upper +crust and melted the ice that had formed around +the runners. Then Charley hitched up the dogs +and headed for the nearest check point, which +was only a few miles away.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_106">106</div> +<p>Their arrival created quite a bit of excitement. +“Only one other sled has come through here,” +a worried official told them. “The Mounties have +planes and search parties out looking for the others.”</p> +<p>“We saw one of the planes,” Sandy said. “He +dipped his wings and we waved to him. So he +knew we were all right.”</p> +<p>“Actually, though,” the official went on, “the +storm looked worse last night than it was. Those +winds were gale force. I don’t imagine anyone +was really in serious trouble. They’re all experienced +woodsmen, accustomed to roughing it on +the trail.”</p> +<p>Jerry hooked his thumbs inside his belt and +puffed out his chest. “Sure, it was a breeze.”</p> +<p>Tagish Charley was more interested in the sled +that had passed through the check point that +morning. The official said the other driver had +about one hour’s start on them.</p> +<p>“We catch ’im,” Charley said. “Let’s go.”</p> +<p>“Hey!” Jerry complained. “What about breakfast? +I’m so ravenous, I’m liable to take a bite out +of one of the dogs.”</p> +<p>“No time to eat,” the Indian said. “We have to +win race.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_107">107</div> +<p>“We’ll give you some sandwiches and hot coffee +to take along,” the official promised. “You can eat +on the run.”</p> +<p>Jerry stared wistfully at the platters of flapjacks, +juicy Canadian bacon and hot biscuits on +the stove. “If we come out of this alive, I’ll never +look at a cold sandwich again,” he vowed.</p> +<p>A short time later, they were racing down the +trail. It was a good day, and by nightfall they had +covered another forty-five miles and overtaken +the sled ahead of them. Its driver turned out to be +a young uranium prospector. For five years he and +his brother had been competing in the big race. +Two years before, they had come in first and they +were hoping to repeat this year. They were pleasant +young men and spent the night with Charley +and the boys at the last check point on the route.</p> +<p>That night, after a hearty supper, they sat +around the fire talking to Sandy and Jerry. +Tagish Charley went to bed as soon as he had the +team fed and settled in the barn. About nine +o’clock, another sled arrived at the check point, +and the driver reported that still another team +was camped at the side of the trail about an hour’s +ride away.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_108">108</div> +<p>“This is really going to be a photo finish,” one +of the brothers said. He got to his feet and +knocked the ash out of his pipe into the fireplace. +“We better sack in, men. There’s going to be a +mad scramble to get away first in the morning.”</p> +<p>Sandy and Jerry followed them to the big dormitory +bedroom, where a dozen army cots were +set up around a potbellied stove that glowed a +dull cherry-red in the darkness. Charley was already +snoring loudly as they slipped into their +bedrolls.</p> +<p>“Now how are we supposed to get to sleep with +that big lug sawing wood?” Jerry grumbled. +“We may as well sit and ... and ... talk ... +around ... the ... fire....” His voice trailed +off into a pretty good imitation of a buzz saw of +its own.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_109">109</div> +<h2 id="c10"><span class="small">CHAPTER TEN</span> +<br />Down the Chilkoot Chute to Victory</h2> +<p>It seemed to Sandy that he had just closed his +eyes when he felt rough hands on his shoulders, +shaking him. “Time to go,” Charley’s voice whispered.</p> +<p>“What time is it?” he mumbled, raising himself +on his elbows.</p> +<p>“Four o’clock,” Charley said. “Other fellers +hitching up already.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_110">110</div> +<p>Sandy struggled out of his sleeping bag and sat +on the edge of the cot, stretching. It was still dark, +but when Charley opened the stove door to throw +on another log, he could see that the cots that the +two brothers had slept on were empty. Yawning, +he raised his left foot and kicked the cot where +Jerry was still sleeping soundly.</p> +<p>“Rise and shine!” he called to his friend.</p> +<p>They ate a hurried breakfast of hot cereal +and scalding coffee, and by four-thirty they were +on the trail again. The cold wind in their faces +and the stinging spray kicked up by the dogs’ feet +brought them fully awake before they had gone +far.</p> +<p>When it began to get light, the boys got out of +the sled and trotted along with Charley. They +kept it up for a mile or so before Jerry developed +a bad case of rubber legs and went down on his +knees.</p> +<p>“I feel like a dope,” he said, as Sandy helped +him back into the sled. “Here we are, a couple of +kids, puffing like steam engines, and an old guy +like Charley isn’t breathing any harder than if he +had run up a flight of stairs.”</p> +<p>“And we’re in pretty good condition from being +in school athletics. Can you imagine how +some of the other guys in school would make +out?” Sandy asked. “The guys who hop in the +family car to go down to the corner newsstand and +sneak smokes between every class?”</p> +<p>“Yeah,” Jerry agreed ruefully. “The kids in the +States are getting soft, there’s no doubt about it.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_111">111</div> +<p>“My Uncle Russ always says you should take at +least as much pride in your body as you do in your +home. Most people wouldn’t live in sloppy, rundown +houses, but a lot of them don’t care if they +spend their lives in sloppy, rundown bodies.”</p> +<p>Jerry slapped his middle irritably. “Let me tell +you, I’m going to work on this flab when I get +home. Old Charley here has taught me a lesson. +You miss a lot of the fun of life if you’re out of +shape.”</p> +<p>Sandy kept up with Charley for another mile, +then he got back into the sled. He noticed that the +Indian held to a pattern: he would run along for a +half hour or so and then hitch a ride on the sled +for ten minutes. It seemed as if he could go on like +that endlessly and tirelessly.</p> +<p>They stopped at mid-morning to give the dogs a +rest and brew some strong Indian tea. Charley +wouldn’t drink the coffee in the thermos. “Coffee +no good. You ever see huskies drink coffee?” The +boys had to admit that they never had. “Indian +tea like medicine. Make you strong and healthy. +Dogs know.” To demonstrate, he poured a little +into a tin plate for Titan, and the big lead dog +lapped it up promptly.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_112">112</div> +<p>“It sure doesn’t look as if we’re ever going to +catch those guys ahead of us, Charley,” Sandy commented, +dropping a handful of snow into his cup +to cool it.</p> +<p>Charley looked down the trail behind them. +“They behind us now. Last hill we pass, we go +around the long way, maybe mile longer. They go +through valley.”</p> +<p>Jerry blinked. “If we came the long way, how +come we’re ahead of them?”</p> +<p>The Indian shrugged. “That valley like pocket +after big snow. Drifts three, four feet deep. They +have plenty trouble getting through.”</p> +<p>Sandy grinned. “What a sly old fox you are, +Charley.”</p> +<p>They were traveling high in the coastal mountains +of British Columbia now, moving through +the Chilkoot Pass. Just before noon, they arrived +at a customs check point.</p> +<p>“You’re the first team through,” the mounted +policeman who waved them past shouted.</p> +<p>Abruptly, the trail appeared to end at the edge +of a cliff. Charley reined the team in and motioned +for the boys to step to the rim of the drop-off. +Here they saw that, in reality, the trail continued +on down a steep incline that resembled the +big drop on a roller coaster. For almost 1,200 feet +it fell away at a 45-degree angle into the coastal +valley below. It was a magnificent spectacle.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_113">113</div> +<p>Jerry gulped hard. “We’re not going down <i>that</i> +in a sled, are we?”</p> +<p>Tagish Charley nodded curtly. “Chilkoot +Chute. We take dogs off first. They follow us +down.” He walked back and began to remove +Black Titan’s harness.</p> +<p>Sandy grinned at Jerry. “You ever been on a +bobsled?” Jerry shook his head mutely. “Well, +after this it’ll be a cinch.”</p> +<p>When the dogs were unhitched, the boys +climbed aboard the sled, and Charley pushed it +to the edge of the chute. It teetered briefly, then +nosed down the incline.</p> +<p>“Alaska next stop!” Sandy yelled as they picked +up speed. A rush of air choked the words off in +his mouth, and his stomach rose up in his rib +cage with a sickening sensation that was ten times +worse than he had ever experienced in an elevator.</p> +<p>Faster and faster the sled shot down the slope, +swaying from side to side, as Charley, riding the +tail, shifted his weight skillfully to steer it. Behind +it the dogs skidded and scrambled down the +chute, barking and yelping excitedly. The sled +reached the bottom and glided down the trail almost +half a mile before it came to a halt.</p> +<p>“What a ride!” Jerry exclaimed.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_114">114</div> +<p>“We must have skidded halfway to Skagway,” +Sandy said. He got out of the sled and looked back +at the Chilkoot Chute. “Gee, it doesn’t look so +bad from here, but when you’re on it, you’d swear +it was a perpendicular wall.”</p> +<p>The dogs finally caught up and Charley hitched +them to the sled again. “We win now easy,” he +said matter-of-factly.</p> +<p>As they approached Skagway, they passed cabins, +farms and other signs of civilization. A group +of children playing in one yard gave them a lusty +cheer and chased after the sled. Farther along, +other children tagged on to the caravan along +with three dogs.</p> +<p>Then, up ahead on the outskirts of the city, +they saw a big crowd of people. “Finish line,” +Charley informed them.</p> +<p>When the sled came into view, a tremendous +roar went up and continued unabated as they shot +past a man waving a flag. The next thing Sandy +knew, they were engulfed by a sea of well-wishers, +and men were pounding him on the back so enthusiastically +that it took his breath away. At last +he spied his father and Professor Crowell fighting +their way through the throng.</p> +<p>“Dad!” he called out happily. “We made it.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_115">115</div> +<p>Dr. Steele reached the boys and threw an arm +around each of them. “Congratulations! This +was quite a race, I hear.”</p> +<p>“Charley is the guy who rates the congratulations,” +Sandy answered.</p> +<p>Professor Crowell pounded Tagish Charley on +the back ecstatically. “I’m the proudest and happiest +man in the world. I haven’t felt like this +since my twin girls were born. Thank you, +Charley.”</p> +<p>Charley knelt down and put his arms around +Black Titan, who was accepting praise and pats +from all quarters with the dignified reserve of a +true champion. “Dogs win the race. Charley just +come along for ride.”</p> +<p>Later, back at the hotel, after a warm bath and +a good supper, the boys recounted the adventures +they had had during the race.</p> +<p>“Bless my soul,” Professor Crowell said to +Jerry, “now you really have an idea of the rigorous +life that the sourdoughs led. Does it still +sound appealing to you?”</p> +<p>Jerry forked the last piece of homemade apple +pie from his plate. “I’ve come to the conclusion +that I’m just a city boy at heart, sir,” he declared +emphatically.</p> +<p>“How was your visit to Fairbanks?” Sandy asked +his father.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_116">116</div> +<p>“We had a fine time,” Dr. Steele said. “I gathered +some priceless material for the pamphlet +I’m preparing on the Pleistocene Era.” He +smiled. “But promise you won’t tell Quiz Taylor, +Sandy.”</p> +<p>Sandy laughed. “I know what you mean, Dad. +My solemn word, I won’t mention it.”</p> +<p>“What’s on the agenda now, Dr. Steele?” Jerry +inquired. “Are we going home?”</p> +<p>“Not for another few days, Jerry,” Dr. Steele +said. “The professor and I want to fly up to Valdez +and look over some old mining sites.”</p> +<p>“Where’s Valdez?” Jerry asked.</p> +<p>“The most northerly ice-free port in Alaska. It +used to be the shipping point for copper ore until +the Kennecott mines closed down in 1938. We +had planned an exciting outing for you fellows—” +he hesitated and looked wryly at Jerry—“but inasmuch +as Jerry says he’s a city boy at heart, well, +maybe we’d better forget it.”</p> +<p>“What kind of an outing, Dad?” Sandy asked.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_117">117</div> +<p>Dr. Steele lit his pipe and blew a cloud of +smoke at the ceiling. “We won’t be using the +plane for several days, and we thought you might +like to visit Kodiak Island. One of the instructors +from the university will be spending a week +there, hunting bear, and he said you boys would +be welcome to join him.” He winked at Sandy. +“But I’m not sure your city friend here would be +up to it.”</p> +<p>“That’s all right,” Sandy said. “Jerry can stay +here at the hotel until we come back.”</p> +<p>“Not on your life!” Jerry snorted. “I want to +take one of those bearskins back to my mom.”</p> +<p>Tagish Charley looked up from his plate solemnly. +“Kodiak bear plenty bad killer. Maybe he +take your skin back to his mamma.”</p> +<p>Everyone except Charley laughed.</p> +<p class="tb">The next morning they boarded the big Norseman +plane and headed northwest up the coast for +Valdez. As they flew over the glacier-ribbed +mountains, the boys were awed by the wild +beauty of the country beneath them.</p> +<p>“It’s so primitive,” Sandy remarked. “I don’t +think man will ever tame it.”</p> +<p>“Yes, he will,” Dr. Steele said. “As surely as +he tamed the American West. We just didn’t pay +much attention to it until after World War Two.”</p> +<p>“A land of untold riches,” Lou Mayer mused. +“Gold, copper, silver, coal, lead, tin, mercury, +platinum—Lord knows what else.” He looked +over meaningfully at Dr. Steele.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_118">118</div> +<p>“Things are certainly moving fast,” Dr. Steele +went on, a little too quickly, Sandy thought. “Oh, +yes, Son, in another fifty years Alaska will be as +civilized as California.”</p> +<p>“But not nearly so warm,” Lou Mayer added.</p> +<p>Professor Crowell smiled. “I don’t know, I like +our northern winters. They make for greater intimacy +among families and friends. When the temperature +is fifty below zero and the snow is piled +up to your window sills, there is literally no place +like home. You discover that being together in +front of a warm fireplace can be just as enjoyable +as running off to the theater, bridge clubs, night +clubs, bowling alleys and all your so-called civilized +diversions. The trouble with so many young +people these days is that they try too hard to have +fun.”</p> +<p>Jerry scratched his head thoughtfully. “Professor, +you know, you’re right. I can’t think of +any time in my life when I’ve had more fun than +I did the Christmas Eve we spent at that little +weather station.”</p> +<p>Dr. Steele took out a small wallet calendar and +consulted it. “Which reminds me that tonight is +New Year’s Eve.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_119">119</div> +<p>“Isn’t it funny how you keep forgetting about +the holidays up here?” Sandy said. “I guess they +see the old year out pretty quietly. Not like the +States.”</p> +<p>Professor Crowell’s eyes twinkled through his +glasses. “Don’t bet on it, son. Some of the New +Year’s parties I’ve been to in the North make +your Stateside celebrations seem like pink teas. In +the old days, I remember some shindigs that went +on continuously from Christmas right through +New Year’s.” He smiled nostalgically. “I wouldn’t +be surprised if a few of them were still going on.”</p> +<p>“But we’ll be spending our New Year’s on Kodiak,” +Jerry reminded them. “I was looking at it +on the map. It’s just a dinky little island.”</p> +<p>“Not so dinky,” Dr. Steele said. “It’s about a +hundred miles long, you know. And I think you’ll +find that its citizens have just as much holiday +spirit as the people in the States.”</p> +<p>“Do many people live on Kodiak?” Sandy asked.</p> +<p>“It’s not too heavily populated,” Dr. Steele admitted. +“Once it was the center of the Alaskan +fur trade. The Russians settled in the town of Kodiak +in 1784, and it wasn’t until much later that +they moved their headquarters to the mainland.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_120">120</div> +<p>“Nowadays it’s hard to make a living on Kodiak. +I think the only major occupation is salmon +fishing. There’s rich farming land at the south end +of the island, but the natives have always had difficulty +raising sheep and cattle. Too many hungry +bears around.”</p> +<p>Jerry squinted down the barrel of an imaginary +rifle. “Well, there’ll be a few less after we get +there, eh, Sandy boy?”</p> +<p>Tagish Charley, who had been staring moodily +out of the window, turned his quizzical black eyes +on Jerry. “You shoot big as you talk, everything +be fine.”</p> +<p>“I think you better go along and take care of +these fellows, Charley,” the professor suggested.</p> +<p>“That would be great,” Sandy said. “How +about it?”</p> +<p>Charley appeared to consider the proposition +for a moment, then looked gravely at Sandy +from beneath his black eyebrows. “Charley like +to go to Kodiak. But better not. I stay and look +out for professor.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_121">121</div> +<h2 id="c11"><span class="small">CHAPTER ELEVEN</span> +<br />Off to Hunt Kodiak Bears</h2> +<p>At quarter after twelve the Norseman put +down on the outskirts of Cordova, and the three +geologists disembarked along with Tagish Charley.</p> +<p>“You’ll be in Kodiak before dark,” Dr. Steele +told the boys before he left them. “The pilot will +radio ahead so Professor Stern can be on hand to +meet you when you land. Be sure and bring us +back a bearskin.”</p> +<p>“We will,” Sandy promised. “And we’ll see you +back here on the third of January.”</p> +<p>“Goodbye, Doctor,” Jerry said. “And Happy +New Year.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_122">122</div> +<p>“Thank you, Jerry, and the same to you.” Dr. +Steele winked. “Don’t eat too much <i>muk-tuk</i>.”</p> +<p>As soon as the plane was refueled, they took off +again. When Jerry began to nod drowsily, Sandy +went up front and sat down in the copilot’s seat.</p> +<p>Russell Parker, the pilot, was a chunky, gray-haired +man in his late forties, a veteran of the +World War II Air Corps. “I was stationed in the +Aleutians for four years,” he told Sandy. “The +place sort of grew on me. There was this girl in +Anchorage, too. Well, as soon as the war was over +we were married, and I decided to settle here permanently. +I had no family ties back in the States, +so the transition was easy.” He smiled. “You +might say I found a home here.”</p> +<p>“And you’ve been a bush pilot ever since?” +Sandy said. “Boy, that must be an exciting life.”</p> +<p>“Well, I wouldn’t call it exciting exactly. A little +romantic maybe—everything about <i>Alashka</i> is +romantic.”</p> +<p>“<i>Alashka?</i>” Sandy looked puzzled. “I notice you +always say it that way.”</p> +<p>“It’s an ancient Aleutian term. Means the ‘big +land.’”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_123">123</div> +<p>“It’s big all right,” Sandy said, glancing out of +the cockpit window. Below the plane, twin mountain +peaks reached up through the wispy clouds. +Cupped in the valley between them lay a gigantic +glacier whose front was a solid wall of ice ten +miles across and as high as a fifteen-story building.</p> +<p>“That’s why there are plenty of jobs for bush +pilots,” Parker explained. “We’re like taxi drivers +back in the States. To get around in the big +land you have to take giant steps. A quick trip to +the city may mean a hop of a hundred miles or +more. You should see Lake Hood on a Saturday +morning in the summer—that’s in Anchorage, my +home town. Hundreds of little planes.”</p> +<p>“It looks like a supermarket parking lot,” +Sandy finished the thought for him. “Professor +Crowell told us.”</p> +<p>“It’s worse. More like Times Square in New +York.”</p> +<p>“But since so many people up here have their +own planes, doesn’t it cut down on your jobs?” +Sandy wanted to know.</p> +<p>“Not really. Most of the amateurs are pretty +cautious, as they should be. They’ll only fly in +perfect weather, and stick to the safe air routes. +When there’s a tough job to be done in a hurry, +they call on a bush pilot. I’ve carried everything +from heavy machinery to medical supplies. I’ve +been a flying ambulance, too; I don’t know how +many lives I’ve helped to save in the back country.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_124">124</div> +<p>“Do you often get assignments like this one?” +Sandy asked.</p> +<p>“I’ve flown my share of VIPs, but mostly it’s a +job for military pilots.”</p> +<p>“You consider my dad and Professor Crowell +VIPs?”</p> +<p>“I got that impression,” Parker said guardedly. +He was about to add something else when a burst +of static from the radio diverted his attention. +“Tower at Anchorage calling us,” he told Sandy, +adjusting his earphones. He listened, then flipped +the switch over to transmit. “N-140 to Anchorage +... Read you clear ... Climbing to 12,000 +feet ... Over and out.” He flipped the switch +and reported to Sandy. “We’re climbing another +4,000 feet. We’re heading into a snow squall off +Kodiak, moving northeast.”</p> +<p>Jerry awoke from his nap and came up front to +join them. “You guys hungry? I’m going to break +out the sandwiches.”</p> +<p>Sandy laughed. “Is eating all you ever think +about?”</p> +<p>Jerry flicked Sandy’s cowlick with one finger. +“Especially when I ride in airplanes. I have to +keep my stomach weighted down so it won’t do +flip-flops.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_125">125</div> +<p>“Okay, I’ll join you,” Sandy agreed. “How +about you, Mr. Parker?”</p> +<p>“I’ll wait awhile,” the pilot declined. “Soon as +we level off at 12,000, I’ll set her on automatic +pilot.”</p> +<p>The boys walked back to their seats and opened +the lunchbox the hotel had prepared for them +that morning.</p> +<p>“I was just thinking,” Jerry said, chewing on a +chicken leg, “we haven’t seen anything of those +characters who took pot shots at us for a few days +now. Think they’ve given up?”</p> +<p>Sandy’s brow furrowed in anxiety. “I don’t +know, Jerry. From what we know of them, they +don’t seem to be the kind who give up so easily. +They’ve been after the professor for months now. +Maybe we should have stayed with them back at +Cordova.”</p> +<p>“Aw, what could happen to them in Cordova? +Those birds wouldn’t try anything in the middle +of a big town like that.”</p> +<p>Sandy nibbled at his sandwich without relish. +“I suppose not. But Dad and the professor are going +to be out poking around some old abandoned +mine sites.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_126">126</div> +<p>The discussion ended when Parker called back, +“I’m ready for that sandwich now. And a cup of +coffee if you don’t mind. Black, no sugar.”</p> +<p>“I’ll take it up to him,” Jerry said.</p> +<p>It was still bright daylight in the air when they +sighted Kodiak, but the island and the sea around +it were shrouded in purple dusk. Lights began to +twinkle on below as they circled the city of Kodiak, +losing altitude. Towering prominently over +the other low buildings were a pair of onion-shaped +domes.</p> +<p>“What’s that?” Sandy asked Parker. “They look +almost Turkish.”</p> +<p>“The Russian Orthodox church,” the pilot +said. “Remember, the Russians founded Kodiak.”</p> +<p>“How did those Russians ever get way over +here?” Jerry wanted to know.</p> +<p>“Boy, are you dumb!” Sandy said. “On the west +side only a thin strip of water separates Alaska +from Russia. The Bering Strait is only about forty +miles wide.”</p> +<p>Parker nodded. “In the winter you can cross it +on a sled.”</p> +<p>That thought seemed to sober Jerry.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_127">127</div> +<p>Parker touched the Norseman down gently on +its skis and reversed the propeller to brake their +slide. As they climbed out of the plane, the figure +of a man emerged out of the glare of the landing +lights. Clad in fur trousers, fur hood and fur +parka, he looked like an Eskimo. But as he approached, +Sandy could make out a small clipped +mustache and rimless eyeglasses.</p> +<p>“Welcome to Kodiak,” he greeted them. “You +must be Dr. Steele’s son.” He held out his hand.</p> +<p>“Yes, sir.” Sandy smiled. “I’m Sandy.”</p> +<p>“I’m Kenneth Stern.”</p> +<p>Sandy performed introductions all around. It +turned out that Parker and the young university +teacher were friends. “My wife took some courses +with Professor Stern,” the pilot explained.</p> +<p>Stern clapped his fur mittens together. “I have +my jeep parked over at the edge of the field. Let’s +get back to the lodge. Dora—that’s my wife—has +a big bear roast in the oven. I imagine you fellows +are pretty hungry.”</p> +<p>“You go ahead,” Parker said. “I want to make +sure they put my baby safely to bed. I’ll hitch a +ride to your camp.”</p> +<p>“All right, Russ,” Stern said. “We’ll hold supper +for you.”</p> +<p>“What’s he got to do?” Jerry inquired as they +walked through the crunchy snow to the jeep, +which was almost hidden by the great cloud of +smoke that was pouring out of the exhaust.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_128">128</div> +<p>“He wants to make sure the crankcase gets +drained,” Stern said. “You really do have to treat +machinery as if it were a baby in cold like this. +That’s why I left the jeep running. It could freeze +up in a few minutes.”</p> +<p>As they drove through the town of Kodiak, the +boys were fascinated by the atmosphere. The cultures +of three centuries and varied races were +blended startlingly but not offensively.</p> +<p>“It’s like being on a Hollywood sound stage +where the sets are all mixed up,” Sandy said +breathlessly.</p> +<p>“Mostly, it reminds me of the Old West,” Jerry +said. “Dodge City. I almost expect to see Wyatt +Earp come striding down the middle of the street +with his hands on his six-guns.”</p> +<p>Professor Stern laughed. “That’s an apt description, +Jerry. This is the twentieth-century +American frontier in a sense. It’s only fitting that +the characteristics of the frontier should predominate.”</p> +<p>The hunting lodge was a sprawling two-story +log building about a mile outside of Kodiak, with +a wide porch running around it on three sides. +Lights blazed warmly from its windows as they +pulled in the drive and bumped along to a big +barn at the back of the house.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_129">129</div> +<p>“Four other teachers and myself own it jointly,” +Stern explained. “We bought it about ten years +ago as a summer place. The fact is, we’ve been using +it just as much in the winter as a hunting +lodge.”</p> +<p>“Did I understand you to say we were having +bear roast for supper, Professor?” Jerry inquired +politely.</p> +<p>“Yes. You’re not squeamish about eating it, are +you?”</p> +<p>“Uh, no!” Jerry assured him. “After some of +the things I’ve been eating since I came to Alaska, +bear sounds like steak to me.”</p> +<p>“It’s better,” Stern told him. “You wait and +see.”</p> +<p>“Did you shoot the bear, sir?” Sandy asked.</p> +<p>“No, we haven’t been out yet. This is a piece of +meat we’ve had in the freezer since last year.”</p> +<p>Jerry laughed. “You’re kidding. What do you +need a freezer for up here?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_130">130</div> +<p>“That’s where you’re wrong, young fellow. It +so happens that the old joke about selling ice-boxes +to Eskimos isn’t such a joke any more. During +the war, the Army discovered it was a lot more +practical to keep food in freezers than it was to +stow it in a shed outside. You see, the temperature +drops to sixty and seventy below zero some +nights in this country. That’s about forty to fifty +degrees lower than the coldest deep freeze. At that +temperature food takes hours to thaw out. In the +freezer, it keeps just right.”</p> +<p>Jerry shook his head. “Can you beat that! Next +thing you know, the Arabs on the Sahara desert +will be turning to steam heat.”</p> +<p>They followed Stern along a path to the back +door of the lodge. Mrs. Stern, a young woman in +ski pants and sweater, was in the kitchen basting +the roast when they came in. “Supper will be another +hour yet,” she apologized. “I hope you boys +can hold out.”</p> +<p>“That’s good,” Stern said. “Russ Parker will be +along later.” He turned to the boys. “Come on inside +and meet Chris Hanson and his wife. They’ll +be spending a few days with us too.”</p> +<p>“Chris Hanson?” Sandy repeated it thoughtfully. +“There used to be an All-American tackle +by that name.”</p> +<p>Stern grinned. “That’s our boy. He’s an athletic +coach at the university.”</p> +<p>“Say, that’s great!” Jerry exclaimed. “Chris was +the best.” Self-importantly, he added, “As a matter +of fact we have a lot in common. I expect to +make All-American tackle myself some day.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_131">131</div> +<p>Sandy smirked and dug his fist playfully into +Jerry’s midsection. “You get any fatter, you won’t +be able to bend down to flip the ball.”</p> +<p>Chris Hanson was a brawny man who made +even a six-footer like Sandy Steele feel like a little +boy. He reminded Sandy of the paintings of fierce +Vikings he had seen in grade-school history books, +though his blond hair was a bit thin on top. His +wife was a small, thin woman who sat as close to +the fire as possible, despite the fact that she was +bundled up in sweaters. The Hansons were just +finishing a game of Scrabble when the boys arrived.</p> +<p>“I’m a Georgia girl, you know,” Mrs. Hanson +said in a marked Southern accent. “And I don’t +believe I’ll ever get used to this climate.”</p> +<p>“We have a friend who would sympathize with +you,” Sandy told her. “Lou Mayer, my father’s +assistant.”</p> +<p>Chris grinned devilishly. “Oh sure, we met +Lou when your dad came up to Fairbanks. Took +him skiing once. I don’t think he likes me very +much.”</p> +<p>While they waited for supper to be served, the +boys coaxed Chris to reminisce about some of his +big gridiron games. Hungry as they were, it was +an unwelcome interruption when Mrs. Stern announced: +“Chow’s on the table.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_132">132</div> +<p>There were seven people at the table—including +Russ Parker, who arrived just as they were sitting +down—and among them they picked an +eight-pound sirloin bear steak clean.</p> +<p>Jerry swabbed his plate clean with a crust of +bread. “That was delicious, Mrs. Stern.”</p> +<p>“That’s an understatement,” Sandy said, “considering +that you had three portions.”</p> +<p>“I know I made a hog of myself,” Jerry admitted. +“But when I bag one of those big Kodiaks tomorrow, +you can fill up your freezer with steaks.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Stern smiled. “That’s very thoughtful of +you, Jerry.”</p> +<p>Chris Hanson looked amused. “You ever done +any hunting before, Jerry?”</p> +<p>“No, but I’m on the high-school rifle team back +home.”</p> +<p>Sandy winked at Chris. “He’s the guy they’re +talking about when they say, ‘He couldn’t hit the +side of a barn.’”</p> +<p>Jerry reddened as everyone laughed, and glared +at Sandy. “I suppose you think you’re Davy Crockett?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_133">133</div> +<p>“Seriously, though,” Professor Stern interjected, +“a bear hunt can be very dangerous. Some of +these brutes on Kodiak are virtually indestructible. +And when they’re wounded—well, just watch +out. There’s an old saying among hunters that +you’ve got to kill a Kodiak with your first shot, or +you never will kill him. I’ve heard men who have +stalked lions, tigers—all kinds of big game—concede +that a Kodiak is the most fearsome of all +beasts.”</p> +<p>“On second thought,” Jerry said gravely, +“maybe I’ll just stay back here and play Scrabble +with the ladies.”</p> +<p>After supper the boys cornered Chris Hanson +again and discussed football and other sports. At +ten o’clock, Professor Stern drove Russ Parker +into town.</p> +<p>“Some of the boys invited me to a party at the +airport,” Russ explained. “I hate to run away like +this, but my brother-in-law is going to be there. I +haven’t seen him in a while. He’s in the service, +stationed in the Aleutians.”</p> +<p>“That’s perfectly all right,” Mrs. Stern said.</p> +<p>“You don’t fool us, Russ,” Chris Hanson kidded +him. “You just want to sneak out of that bear hunt +tomorrow.”</p> +<p>Parker snorted. “You aren’t going to drag me +off after any bears. Not unless I can hunt them +from the air.”</p> +<p>“When are we going back to Cordova, Mr. +Parker?” Sandy asked him.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_134">134</div> +<p>“I figure you can have a couple of days of hunting. +The professor expects us back on the third of +January.”</p> +<p>Professor Stern asked the boys whether they +wanted to ride into town with him and see how +the Kodiakans celebrated the New Year, but they +declined.</p> +<p>“We heard they had some pretty wild times up +here,” Jerry said. “But the way I feel, the only +thing that would look good to me is a soft, warm +bed.”</p> +<p>And by twelve o’clock they were in bed. “I +wonder what the gang is doing back in Valley +View,” Jerry sighed as they lay in the dark listening +to the sound of foghorns in St. Paul’s harbor +blending with church bells and firecrackers in +distant Kodiak.</p> +<p>“You can bet they’re not planning to go bear +hunting at six in the morning,” Sandy answered +sleepily.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_135">135</div> +<h2 id="c12"><span class="small">CHAPTER TWELVE</span> +<br />Treed by a Wounded Bear</h2> +<p>Professor Stern roused the boys at eight o’clock +on New Year’s morning. “Put on two suits of long +woolen underwear and two pairs of socks,” he instructed +them. “We’ll probably be out until +dark.”</p> +<p>They dressed quickly and went downstairs to +the big kitchen, where Chris Hanson was cooking +breakfast. “How’ll you have your eggs, fellows?” +he asked.</p> +<p>“Sunny side up,” Sandy answered. “Can we +help?”</p> +<p>“Sure. You can start the toast.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_136">136</div> +<p>Sandy took a handful of sliced bread out of the +bread box and began searching through the cupboards. +“Where’s the toaster?” he asked finally.</p> +<p>Chris smiled and pointed to the stove. “Right +here. Just butter the bread lightly and spread the +slices out between the lids.”</p> +<p>For the first time, Sandy became aware that +the cooking stove was the old-fashioned, cast iron, +wood-burning type; the kind you saw only in +Western movies in the United States. A long +tongue of flame and a shower of sparks shot up into +the air as Chris lifted one of the front lids and set +the teakettle over the opening.</p> +<p>“When we first bought the place,” Chris said, +“we planned to install one of those newfangled +electric stoves in a year or two. But we got attached +to this old girl. We’ve never regretted it +either. I don’t know how many times the electric +power has conked out for days at a time. Anyway, +this cooks better than any gas or electric +stove I’ve ever seen.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_137">137</div> +<p>After they had eaten, they stacked the dishes in +the sink and went out to the garage. Chris Hanson +and Professor Stern were armed with .30-.30 +Winchester rifles. Stern said their neighbor down +the road had promised to provide weapons for the +boys. They piled into the jeep, which had been +warming up for a half hour, and drove about two +miles into the foothills to the ranch of Vladimir +Thorsen, the son of a Russian-Swedish sourdough +who had struck it rich in the gold rush. Thorsen +was a short, rugged-looking man of fifty, with +jet-black hair and a Vandyke beard. His English +was precise, with just a trace of an accent. He welcomed +the boys heartily and insisted that the men +join him in a last cup of strong black coffee mixed +with brandy.</p> +<p>“I don’t think we will have to look far for our +bear,” he announced grimly. “Two nights ago, a +big brute came right into the barnyard and carried +off one of my lambs.”</p> +<p>Chris Hanson whistled shrilly between his +teeth. “He had his nerve, didn’t he?”</p> +<p>“A cunning old monster,” Thorsen said. +“From the size of his footprints, I would estimate +he weighs about 1,400 pounds. He has toes missing +on his two forefeet.”</p> +<p>“He’s evidently been in some battles,” Stern +said. “And won them.”</p> +<p>When the men had finished their coffee, Thorsen +escorted them into his den. The walls were +covered with pistols and rifles and the mounted +heads of every kind of big game imaginable. The +rancher took down two big, unwieldy, ancient-looking +rifles and handed them to the boys. “Here +are your weapons.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_138">138</div> +<p>Sandy and Jerry couldn’t help but show their +disappointment. “They’re very nice guns, sir.” +Sandy made an effort to sound appreciative. “But—what +are they?”</p> +<p>“They look as if they were left over from the +Revolutionary War,” Professor Stern said tartly. +“What are you trying to pull on these kids, Thorsen?”</p> +<p>Thorsen stroked his pointed beard and cast a +reproving eye on the instructor. “You are an +American teacher and you don’t recognize this +magnificent rifle! It is a Sharpe’s buffalo gun, the +same kind that your Buffalo Bill killed 1,800 buffalo +with. I’m ashamed of you, Kenneth.”</p> +<p>“It’s only single-shot, too,” Jerry observed critically.</p> +<p>“With a gun like that you only need one shot,” +Thorsen said. “You could drop an elephant with +one shot.” He opened a drawer of his desk and +took out a handful of enormous cartridges. “See?”</p> +<p>Chris Hanson picked one up and hefted it in +his palm. “It’s a small artillery shell.” He grinned +at the boys. “You want to trade? I’d feel plenty +safe facing Mr. Bear with this cannon.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_139">139</div> +<p>“No,” Jerry answered quickly. “If it was good +enough for Buffalo Bill, it’s good enough for me.” +He picked up one of the long rifles and balanced +it on his shoulder. “Hup-two-three-four....” He +staggered around the room. “Hey, doesn’t a +weapons carrier come with this thing?”</p> +<p>The rancher smiled, showing two rows of +strong, white teeth. “You are a very funny fellow,” +he said. “Maybe the bear will die laughing.... +Come, the horses are already saddled and waiting.”</p> +<p>Jerry’s face clouded over. “Horses?” he said.</p> +<p>“Yes, we may have to go ten or fifteen miles +into the hills.” He led them out of the den, +through the kitchen and out the back door.</p> +<p>The boys fell behind as they approached the +stables. “Have you ever ridden a horse before?” +Jerry whispered to Sandy.</p> +<p>“Sure, I’m a fair rider.” Realization suddenly +dawned in his eyes. “You’ve ridden before—haven’t +you?”</p> +<p>“Only on the merry-go-round,” Jerry said miserably. +“But don’t say anything. I don’t want to +spoil the party.”</p> +<p>“Well ...” Sandy was uncertain. “I suppose +we’ll be walking the horses mostly, so you can’t +get into too much trouble.”</p> +<p>“Sure, we can hang back and you can instruct +me in the fine points of horsemanship.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_140">140</div> +<p>An Indian groom brought the horses out of the +stable. They were much sturdier animals than the +ones Sandy had rented at any riding academy—more +like cowboy ponies. They wore Western +saddles, too.</p> +<p>“They’re all mares,” Thorsen explained. “Not +too high-spirited and very manageable. Good +mounts for tracking.”</p> +<p>Jerry’s eyes were round as he and his horse +confronted each other. “This is the closest I’ve +ever been to one,” he confided to Sandy. “I never +realized they were so big.”</p> +<p>“You won’t have any trouble,” Sandy assured +him. “She’s a gentle girl.” He stroked the smooth +flanks and the muscles rippled beneath the glossy +black coat. “Come on, I’ll give you a lift.”</p> +<p>Jerry mounted without difficulty and settled +himself comfortably in the big saddle with his +feet planted in the stirrups. “Nothing to it,” he +said.</p> +<p>Sandy grinned. “Nothing to a jet plane either, +while it’s sitting in the hangar. Here.” He +handed Jerry’s rifle up to him.</p> +<p>“What do I do with it?” Jerry demanded.</p> +<p>Sandy indicated a large leather sheath that was +fastened to the right side of the saddle. “Stick it +in the saddle boot.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_141">141</div> +<p>They rode out single file, with Thorsen’s horse +breaking trail through knee-deep snow across a +broad meadow behind the ranch house. A long +split-rail fence ran along the back of the property. +Thorsen pointed out a break in the fence, where +the heavy logs lay scattered around like jackstraws +and a six-inch post was snapped off at the base.</p> +<p>“That’s where he came through.”</p> +<p>From the break in the fence a wide path, which +looked as if it had been plowed by a small bulldozer, +led up a slope into a grove of spruce trees.</p> +<p>“It won’t be much of a problem tracking him, +will it?” Chris Hanson said.</p> +<p>Thorsen shrugged. “It depends. We’re protected +from the wind in the valley. Farther up in +the mountains, the trail may be covered over by +now. It’s been two days.”</p> +<p>Professor Stern swung down off his horse and +knelt to examine the bear’s footprints, which had +been almost obliterated by blowing snow. He +brushed away some of the fine, white powder with +his mitten. Abruptly, he looked up at the rancher. +“Did any one of your hands take a shot at this +fellow?”</p> +<p>Thorsen frowned. “Certainly not. Why?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_142">142</div> +<p>Stern pointed to faint, rust-colored streaks in +the snow between the imprints of the bear’s foot +pads. “Looks like blood to me. Probably a +wound, high on the leg, and the blood trickled +down between the toes.”</p> +<p>“Maybe he hurt himself when he broke +through the fence,” Sandy suggested.</p> +<p>“That’s possible,” Stern conceded. He walked +back and inspected the broken logs carefully. Finally, +he shook his head. “No sign of blood here. +I’m afraid our bear has been the victim of a careless +hunter.”</p> +<p>Thorsen scowled fiercely and muttered something +in a guttural foreign tongue. Then he exploded +in English. “I would like to get my hands +on that filthy pig!”</p> +<p>“I don’t get it,” Jerry said to Sandy. “What’s +he so excited about? That’s the whole idea, isn’t +it, to shoot the bear?”</p> +<p>“Sure, but once you wound an animal, it’s your +obligation to finish him off. That’s the first commandment +of hunting. First of all, it’s cruel to let +an animal suffer. And when you’re dealing with +big game, it’s downright dangerous. A pain-crazed +bear, for instance, can be a menace to anything +that comes anywhere near him.”</p> +<p>“That’s right,” Chris Hanson agreed. “We’re +going to have to stay on our toes from here on.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_143">143</div> +<p>Professor Stern swung back into the saddle and +they followed the bear’s trail into the woods. +There were great, towering ancient pines, clustered +together so that their heavy foliage meshed +to form a solid roof above the forest floor. Only a +fine dusting of snow had filtered through their +heavy branches onto the thick carpet of pine needles +that cushioned the earth. The horses’ hoofbeats +were barely audible as they picked their way +between the trees, which were bare for at least +twenty feet up.</p> +<p>“It’s like being in a cathedral,” Sandy said reverently. +The voices of the men ahead sounded +embarrassingly loud in the silence beneath the +pines.</p> +<p>A pine cone skittered out from under the hoof +of Jerry’s horse and rattled across the dry needles. +Jerry started and almost slipped out of the saddle.</p> +<p>“Watch it, boy,” Sandy cautioned him. “How is +it going, anyway?”</p> +<p>“I’ll be okay, once old Dobbin and I get ourselves +co-ordinated. Every time he goes up, I’m +coming down and vice versa.”</p> +<p>Sandy grinned. “You’re too tense. Relax and try +to imagine you’re part of the horse.”</p> +<p>“I know what part I feel like,” Jerry said wryly.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_144">144</div> +<p>On the other side of the grove they picked up +the bear’s trail again. It headed up a steep, rocky +hillside, dotted with patches of scrubby trees and +huge boulders. The horses had slippery footing +and they went very slowly now.</p> +<p>Thorsen took his rifle out of the saddle boot, +levered a shell into the chamber and rested it +across the saddle in front of him. The other men +followed suit.</p> +<p>Professor Stern turned and smiled reassuringly +at the boys. “Don’t be alarmed. It just +doesn’t pay to take any chances. I’ve heard of these +wily old bears doubling back on their trail and +setting up an ambush for unwary hunters.”</p> +<p>Jerry swallowed hard and cast a nervous glance +back over his shoulder. “Maybe it wasn’t such a +good idea to bring up the rear.” His horse skidded +unexpectedly on a mound of loose stones and +Jerry clutched it frantically around the neck with +both arms, burying his face in the thick mane. +When the horse had steadied itself again, he +straightened up and settled himself gingerly in +the saddle.</p> +<p>He touched one hand to the seat of his pants +and moaned. “How can one part of you feel so +hot when the rest of you is so cold?”</p> +<p>Sandy was sympathetic. “Yeah, I feel for you, +pal. That old saddle gets pretty hard after a while. +And this is a rough way to get initiated to horseback +riding to begin with.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_145">145</div> +<p>They rode on for another half hour until they +came to a shallow ravine with a dense growth of +white birch trees and underbrush. Thorsen studied +the steep rocky slopes of the ravine carefully. +Except for a light dusting of snow they were wind-blown +clean, as was the rocky shelf on the other +side.</p> +<p>“I can’t see any sign of a trail. For all we know, +he may be hiding down there in those trees,” he +said.</p> +<p>Professor Stern nodded in agreement. “It’s possible. +I’d hate to run into a Kodiak in those close +quarters. What do we do now?”</p> +<p>“We play it completely safe,” Thorsen replied. +“Some of us can ride around the ravine—it’s no +more than a quarter of a mile to the north—and +see if we can pick up his trail on the other side. If +we do, we can assume he’s not waiting to pounce +on us in the ravine. Those who remain here can +safely ride across directly.”</p> +<p>“Why don’t we all ride around together?” Chris +wanted to know. “What’s the point of leaving anyone +here?”</p> +<p>Thorsen stroked his silky beard. “Because if +Mr. Bear <i>is</i> hiding in the ravine, we have him +trapped. One group can flush him out into the +guns of the other group.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_146">146</div> +<p>“That seems sound,” Stern acknowledged. +“Which of us will stay here?”</p> +<p>“Jerry and I will,” Sandy volunteered. “Both +of us are pretty tired, and it’ll give us a chance to +rest.”</p> +<p>“All right,” Stern said. “Better make sure your +guns are ready for action in case that bear surprises +you.”</p> +<p>As the three men rode off along the edge of the +ravine, the boys dismounted and tethered their +horses to a bare, crooked sapling. Sandy sat down +on a boulder with his buffalo gun across his knees, +but Jerry remained standing.</p> +<p>“I may never sit down again,” he told Sandy.</p> +<p>Soon the three men passed out of sight where +the ravine curved back behind a ridge, and the +boys turned their attention to the birch trees below +them.</p> +<p>“Think our bear is down there?” Sandy asked.</p> +<p>“Naw, I bet he’s miles away from here by now.”</p> +<p>The words were scarcely out of Jerry’s mouth +when the sound of a rock clattering down the far +side of the ravine jerked their eyes upward. Standing +beside a big boulder on the rocky shelf facing +them was the biggest bear they had ever seen in +their lives. His long, shaggy fur was tipped with +silver, and on his underside it almost brushed the +ground. The monster seemed oblivious of their presence.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_147">147</div> +<p>“I don’t think he sees us,” Sandy whispered to +Jerry. “They have very poor eyesight. And we’re +upwind of him so he can’t smell us.”</p> +<p>But the horses caught the scent of the bear and +began to whinny and stamp their hoofs in terror. +The big Kodiak’s ears went up and he lifted his +head, probing the air with his sensitive snout. +Slowly he reared up on his hind legs.</p> +<p>Jerry couldn’t restrain a gasp of astonishment +and wonder. “Wow! Will you look at the size of +him! He must be ten feet tall if he’s an inch.”</p> +<p>When the bear stood erect, Sandy could see a +red, matted spot on his left shoulder. “Someone +shot him all right,” he said. He pressed his lips +firmly together and lifted the big rifle to +his shoulder. “Well, here goes.” Then he added, +“You take a bead on him too, Jerry, in case I +miss.”</p> +<p>“I’m so jittery, I don’t think I <i>could</i> hit the side +of a barn,” Jerry answered breathlessly. Nevertheless, +he brought up his rifle.</p> +<p>“It’s an easy shot,” Sandy told him. “Only +about forty yards. I’ll try for a head shot. You aim +just below the left shoulder. And take off your +mittens, idiot.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_148">148</div> +<p>Sandy squinted down the long barrel, fixing the +sight on a spot directly between the bear’s eyes. +Very gently he squeezed the trigger. There was +a tremendous explosion and a numbing blow +against his shoulder that sent him somersaulting +backward off the boulder. He lay there stunned +for an instant. Then Jerry grabbed the front of +his parka and pulled him to his feet.</p> +<p>“What a recoil,” Sandy mumbled.</p> +<p>“Forget the recoil!” Jerry was hopping up and +down in excitement. “You got him! Look! One-shot +Steele, that’s you. Bet you could have made +a chump out of Buffalo Bill.”</p> +<p>Sandy focused his bleary eyes across the ravine. +The Kodiak was just a big mound of motionless +fur sprawled out on the ground.</p> +<p>“Come on!” Jerry pulled at Sandy’s arm. “Let’s +hurry over there so we can make like big-game +hunters when those other guys show up.” Using +his rifle as a staff, he started down the slope into +the ravine.</p> +<p>Sandy caught up to him at the bottom and +grabbed the rifle away from him. “Don’t ever do +anything like that again!” he snapped. “You +dope! You might have blown your head off—or at +least your hand. This is a loaded gun. You’ve got +to have respect for it. Never point it at yourself or anyone else.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_149">149</div> +<p>Jerry flushed and dropped his eyes. “Yeah, +you’re right. It was a dopey thing to do. I’m so +crazy excited I forgot.”</p> +<p>“Okay.” Sandy handed the rifle back to him and +they crashed through the brush and brambles +that grew among the trunks of the birches. +Scrambling up the far slope, Sandy was aware of +a heavy weight banging against his right hip. He +slipped his hand into his pocket on that side and +touched the cold metal grip of the Colt automatic. +He had forgotten about it when he packed the +heavy parka away after the sled race.</p> +<p>He had just withdrawn his hand from his +pocket when Jerry, who was in the lead, reached +the top of the ravine. As his eyes cleared the rim, +he stopped short and let out a wild yell. Then the +bear lumbered into full view, looming over Jerry +like a cat over a very small mouse. The monster’s +red-rimmed eyes blazed with hatred and Sandy +could see pink foam gleaming on the long, bared +fangs. It came to him as an incredible shock that +here they were face to face with the most dangerous +living thing in all the world—a wounded, +pain-crazed Kodiak bear.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_150">150</div> +<p>“Jerry! The gun! Shoot!” Sandy spat the words +out jerkily.</p> +<p>Obeying mechanically, Jerry swung the long +barrel up and fired in the same motion. The +slug plowed harmlessly between the bear’s legs, +kicking up dirt and gravel. But it turned out to be +a lifesaving shot. Caught off balance, Jerry was +kicked off his feet by the booming recoil and went +tumbling head over heels down the steep grade. +At the same time Sandy drew out the big .45 pistol +and cocked it. Then, as the bear dropped to all +fours, with the obvious intention of attacking, +Sandy fired at its hairy throat. The Army Colt +.45-caliber packs a tremendous wallop. At such +close range, it knocked the giant Kodiak back on +its haunches.</p> +<p>Sandy pumped the last bullet into the bear’s +midsection, then turned and ran down the slope. +Jerry was just getting to his feet when he reached +the bottom of the ravine. “Find a tall tree and +climb it,” Sandy yelled. “Come on!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_151">151</div> +<p>Together they stumbled into the woods. Sandy +remembered that on their way over they had +passed one gnarled birch with a trunk as big +around as a man’s waist. In the manner of so many +trees of this species, it had branched out into +three thick, sturdy limbs at a height of about four +feet. Without breaking his stride, Sandy leaped +up, planted one foot in the crotch and clawed and +shinnied his way up through the branches. He +kept climbing until the limb began to bend beneath +his weight. Then, with his heart fluttering +like a frightened bird, he looked down, half expecting +to see his friend in the embrace of the +great bear. There was no trace of either Jerry or +the Kodiak.</p> +<p>“Here I am,” Jerry’s voice rang out, so startlingly +close that Sandy almost lost his hold on +the branch. The sight of Jerry swaying back and +forth on an adjacent limb at least five feet above +him, arms and legs wrapped tightly around it like +a monkey, made him weak with relief. In spite +of their precarious position, he had to smile.</p> +<p>Jerry was appalled. “He’s hysterical. Stark, raving +mad,” he cried. “Sandy! Snap out of it.”</p> +<p>“I’m fine,” Sandy said. “It’s just that I didn’t +expect to see you up there.”</p> +<p>“Where did you think I’d be? Back there, Indian-wrestling +with old Smokey so you could escape?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know how you got up there so fast. I +didn’t even see you pass me.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_152">152</div> +<p>“Brother,” Jerry said huffily, “if you had been +as close to that critter as I was you’d be back in +Valley View by now.”</p> +<p>As yet there was still no sign of the bear on the +ground below them. Sandy searched the rocky +shelf where they had encountered him, but it was +empty. The clatter of horses’ hoofs drew his attention +back to the side of the ravine they had +come from. Professor Stern and the other two +men came galloping into view and reined in their +horses.</p> +<p>“Here, in the tree!” Sandy hailed them. +“We’re up in the tree.”</p> +<p>Stern’s face reflected his relief—and not a little +amazement. “What on earth are you doing in a +tree? And what were those shots we heard?”</p> +<p>“We shot the bear. Then he came to life again +and chased us up here.” Sensing the professor’s +understandable confusion, he grinned. “I guess +that sounds pretty wild, doesn’t it?”</p> +<p>“Indeed it does,” Stern admitted. “But never +mind that. Where is the bear now?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_153">153</div> +<p>Thorsen and Chris Hanson were already starting +down into the ravine, rifles ported for action. +Stem dismounted and followed them. Cautiously +the men made their way through the trees. Before +they reached the far side of the ravine the boys +lost sight of them.</p> +<p>After several minutes of complete silence, +Sandy began to get anxious.</p> +<p>“Maybe that old bear was hiding behind a +tree,” Jerry suggested, “and clobbered each one +of them as they went by him, like the Indians +used to do.”</p> +<p>Finally they heard Stern’s voice calling to +them. “You guys can come down now.”</p> +<p>Sandy was puzzled. “That’s funny. I guess the +bear got away after all.” He slid hurriedly to the +ground.</p> +<p>When they emerged from the birch grove, both +boys stopped dead. Sandy shut his eyes tight, +opened them, shut them, and opened them again. +He couldn’t believe what he saw. The three men +were standing at the bottom of the slope, all flashing +broad grins. At their feet was the mountainous +carcass of the bear.</p> +<p>“You—you sure he’s dead?” Sandy stammered.</p> +<p>“Yeah,” Jerry said. “He’s a tricky one.”</p> +<p>Thorsen jabbed his toe into the shaggy body. +“Quite dead, I assure you, my young friends.”</p> +<p>“We had just reached the end of the ravine +when we heard the shots,” Professor Stern said. +“Now tell us what happened.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_154">154</div> +<p>Both talking at once, the boys recited the story +of their escapade with the big Kodiak.</p> +<p>“You remember that old movie <i>King Kong</i>, +where the girl first sees this giant gorilla?” Jerry +asked. “Well, that’s how I felt when this thing +came at me. Oh broth-er!” He shuddered.</p> +<p>Sandy took out the black Colt pistol. “And this +is what saved our lives.”</p> +<p>Thorsen took it from him and examined it admiringly. +“A true gem. Do you know how this gun +was developed? During the Philippine Insurrection, +American troops were being demoralized by +fierce Moro tribesmen, savage warriors who carried +wicked bolo knives. The Moros would pop up +out of the jungle without warning and attack the +soldiers at such close quarters that it was impossible +for them to use their rifles. And the Moros +were so physically powerful that the average pistol +couldn’t stop them. Even with a half dozen +bullets in them, they could decapitate an enemy +with their bolos before they died. The Army Colt +.45 was designed especially to stop them. And it +did the job well—with one slug.”</p> +<p>“It certainly stopped this monster,” said Chris +Hanson.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_155">155</div> +<p>“But it was a very lucky shot,” Professor Stern +tempered his praise. “The first shot you fired +with the rifle creased his skull and stunned him. +He was probably still whoozy when you ran into +him, or you might not have had a chance to get in +a second shot. Your last shot severed the jugular +vein. It was a very lucky shot,” he emphasized.</p> +<p>“You don’t have to convince me, Professor,” +Sandy said soberly. “As of now I am a retired bear +hunter.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_156">156</div> +<h2 id="c13"><span class="small">CHAPTER THIRTEEN</span> +<br />The Ghost Mine</h2> +<p>Two days later the Sterns and the Hansons +came down to the airstrip to see the boys off. Professor +Stern promised to send the bearskin to Valley +View as soon as it was cured. “It will make a +nice trophy to spread out in front of your fireplace,” +he told Sandy.</p> +<p>“I think I’ll donate it to our local boys’ club,” +Sandy said.</p> +<p>“And every time a new fellow joins up, he’ll +have an excuse to tell what a big hero he is,” +Jerry joked.</p> +<p>Sandy laughed. “I bet I looked like a big hero +up in that tree all right.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_157">157</div> +<p>Russ Parker appeared in the doorway of the +plane. “All revved up and ready to go. You fellows +set?”</p> +<p>The boys said their last goodbyes and climbed +into the cabin.</p> +<p>Mrs. Stern waved and yelled, “Thanks again for +refilling my freezer.”</p> +<p>“We’ll eat it up the next time we come,” Jerry +said.</p> +<p>Parker slammed the door and bolted it, then +went forward to the cockpit. “Fasten your safety +belts,” he ordered. The little plane took off +smoothly and climbed over the bay. Through the +window next to him, Sandy caught a last glimpse +of the twin domes of the Russian church and the +ancient sea wall with its great iron rings where +the fur traders used to tie up their ships. The sun +sparkled on the blue water and glinted briefly off +the metal oil tanks of the U.S. naval base far +across the bay. Parker leveled off at 10,000 feet +and set a northeast course.</p> +<p>Sandy unbuckled his seat belt and went up front +to the cockpit. “How long will it take to fly to +Cordova?” he inquired.</p> +<p>“With this tail wind no more than two hours,” +Parker said. “We should be landing a little after +ten. Your dad and the professor want to fly back +to Juneau this afternoon.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_158">158</div> +<p>Sandy nodded. “From there we’re taking a commercial +airline back to Seattle.”</p> +<p>Parker put the ship on automatic pilot and +turned sideways in the seat. “Not driving back +down the highway?”</p> +<p>“No. Professor Crowell decided the trip was too +rugged in the winter. He’s leaving his dogs up +here until spring. Anyway, Jerry and I have to get +back to school, so we were planning to fly back in +any case.”</p> +<p>Listening to the conversation with one ear, +Jerry looked up from the book he was reading. +“Hey, Sandy, back in Valley View the guys are +just steeling themselves for a session with Miss +Remson in English Four. Isn’t that great? And +here we are three thousand miles away and two +miles in the air. Think we’re safe from her?”</p> +<p>“Sure,” Sandy said. “And Miss Remson would +probably be just as glad if you stayed that far +away from her.”</p> +<p>Parker pointed out a range of mountains just +visible on the northwest horizon. “Too bad you +don’t have time to visit the Valley of Ten Thousand +Smokes.”</p> +<p>“That’s an interesting name. What is it?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_159">159</div> +<p>“Before Mount Katmai erupted in 1912 it was +a fertile farm region. Then the whole top of the +mountain blew off—two cubic miles of rock vaporized +into thin air. One hundred miles away in +Kodiak they had to shovel the dust and ashes off +the roof tops.”</p> +<p>Sandy whistled. “That’s as bad as having an H-bomb +drop in your back yard.”</p> +<p>“Maybe worse,” Parker said grimly. “Then the +entire floor of the valley erupted into little fumaroles, +or volcanic potholes, that spewed out +molten sand. Thousands of them. That’s where +they got the name Ten Thousand Smokes. Today +there are only seven of them that are still +active, but the valley is a desert wasteland.”</p> +<p>Sandy squinted through the windshield, imagining +he could see a thin ribbon of smoke rising +from one of the peaks. “What happened to old +Mount Katmai? Is it still active?”</p> +<p>“Well, the experts think it’s still boiling way +down inside. There’s a big lake in the crater now, +but it never freezes. I’ve heard it’s warm enough +to swim in.”</p> +<p>Jerry, who had come forward to listen to the +story, was wonderstruck. “Why, I bet you could +land a plane on the lake and find out,” he said.</p> +<p>“It’s a thought,” Parker agreed, not too enthusiastically. +“Maybe some day I’ll try it.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_160">160</div> +<p>For the remainder of the trip, he captivated the +boys with other tales about the big land, and almost +before they knew it they were approaching +Cordova. The traffic was light and the tower gave +them immediate clearance to land.</p> +<p>A quarter of an hour after the plane touched +down, they were on their way to town in the auto +of a radio technician who was going off duty. Russ +Parker remained at the field to give the Norseman +a thorough inspection before the afternoon +flight to Juneau. “We’ll take off about one, I +guess,” he told them as they were leaving.</p> +<p>The considerate radio man dropped them off in +front of the old-fashioned hotel where Dr. Steele +had said they would be staying. The clerk at the +desk informed them that the geologists were still +registered, but that he had not seen them since +the previous morning.</p> +<p>“Are you certain they didn’t come back when +you were off duty?” Sandy asked him.</p> +<p>“Positive,” the clerk declared. “The chambermaid +said their beds haven’t been slept in.”</p> +<p>Sandy looked at Jerry helplessly. “Well, I guess +we’ll just have to wait for them.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_161">161</div> +<p>The clerk gave them a passkey to one of the two +adjoining rooms occupied by Dr. Steele and his +party. When they entered the room, the boys +were surprised to see that the geologists hadn’t +even started to pack. Clothing, books and toilet +articles were scattered everywhere.</p> +<p>Jerry looked at his wrist watch. “We’re never +going to take off for Juneau at one o’clock at this +rate. It’s after eleven now. Are you sure you didn’t +get the days mixed up, Sandy? Maybe your father +wasn’t expecting us until tomorrow.”</p> +<p>A little seed of fear began to grow inside of +Sandy. “No, he said the third. Professor Crowell +told Russ he wanted to fly to Juneau today, too. +I can’t understand it, Jerry. If Dad didn’t expect +to be here when we got back from Kodiak, he +would have left word for us. Anyway, they +couldn’t have been planning to make any overnight +trips. They didn’t take razors, toothbrushes +or anything; my dad shaves every morning even +when he’s on a fishing trip miles from civilization. +I don’t like it, Jerry.”</p> +<p>Jerry’s face turned pale under its perpetual +tan. “Sandy, you don’t think those enemy agents...?” +He left the sentence unfinished.</p> +<p>Before Sandy could reply, the telephone on the +stand between the twin beds jangled harshly. The +boys looked at each other hopefully.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_162">162</div> +<p>“Maybe that’s Dad calling.” Sandy threw himself +across one of the beds and picked up the +receiver eagerly. But it was Russ Parker phoning +from the airfield.</p> +<p>“I don’t think it’s anything to worry about,” +Parker said, “but I just found out that your dad +and his friends chartered a plane yesterday morning +to fly out to McCarthy. That’s an old ghost +town near the abandoned Kennecott copper +mine. When they didn’t show back last night, the +authorities figured they had been forced down +somewhere with engine trouble. Search planes +have been combing the area all morning, but +there’s no sign of the plane, crashed or otherwise.”</p> +<p>“What do you think we should do, Russ?” +Sandy asked in a tight voice.</p> +<p>“I dunno. I sort of thought we might fly out +that way ourselves and have a look.”</p> +<p>“That’s a good idea, Russ. Jerry and I will be +out as soon as we can hitch a ride. Thanks for calling.” +He slammed down the receiver and related +the latest development to Jerry. Minutes later +they were on their way.</p> +<p class="tb">As they swooped low across the small ghost +town of McCarthy, Parker banked the plane +sharply and indicated the unblemished expanses +of white around the town. “No one has set down +here since before the last snow,” he said.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_163">163</div> +<p>“Is there anywhere else they might have +landed?” Sandy asked.</p> +<p>“Maybe up at the mine proper. We’ll fly up +that way and have a look.”</p> +<p>“Imagine having a ghost town up here,” Jerry +marveled. “I thought they were exclusive to the +old American West. It’s kind of spooky, everyone +packing up and leaving a place. Almost as if it was +haunted.”</p> +<p>“Ghost towns are haunted in a sense,” Sandy +said. “By poverty and hunger. They’re towns that +build up around mines and have no other livelihood. +If the mines close down they’re doomed.”</p> +<p>“Any community that puts all its eggs in one +basket runs the risk of becoming a ghost town,” +Parker put in.</p> +<p>“Why did the Kennecott mine shut down?” +Sandy asked curiously.</p> +<p>“The ore just ran out,” Parker said. “Here we +are now.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_164">164</div> +<p>Below them Sandy saw a sprawling shedlike +structure that seemed to be hanging on the side of +a hill. “That’s the main building,” Parker said. +“See those long wires that look like trolley cables? +They used to send the ore down from the shafts +by cable car. Then it was loaded on trains and +shipped to Cordova to be put on ships.”</p> +<p>On a level plateau below the Kennecott mine, +they spotted the long twin ski marks of a plane. +There were two sets, one set almost parallel to the +other.</p> +<p>“No doubt about it,” Parker said. “A plane +landed here recently. And it took off again.” He +brought the Norseman’s nose up and began +climbing.</p> +<p>“But if they took off again, where <i>did</i> they go?” +Sandy was sick with fear. The idea of his father +lying badly injured—or worse—in the wreckage +of a crashed plane terrified him. “If—if they had +cracked up, the search planes would have found +them by now, wouldn’t they?”</p> +<p>Parker chewed thoughtfully on his underlip. +“I would think so. Unless they wandered outlandishly +far off course. But there isn’t any reason +why they should have. The last two days and +nights have been perfect for flying.” Ominously, +he added, “But we can’t discount that possibility +altogether. There’s so much territory to cover +even with an air search that a small plane might +be missed. In Canada they insist that private +planes follow well-traveled routes like the Alaska +Highway instead of flying the beam, for that very +reason. If you have to make a forced landing, +there’s a better chance you’ll be found promptly.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_165">165</div> +<p>“Listen,” Sandy implored the pilot, “let’s land +here and look around. Maybe we’ll find a clue or +something to show where they went.”</p> +<p>Parker shrugged. “Sure, if it’ll make you feel +any better. But if they were here, they definitely +took off again.”</p> +<p>Parker landed the Norseman smoothly, cutting +across the ski tracks of the other plane. He taxied +to the far end of the clearing, turning her +about in position for a take-off, then cut the engines. +The plane settled heavily in the snow.</p> +<p>“Looks pretty deep out there,” Parker estimated. +“We better dig out snowshoes from the +baggage compartment.”</p> +<p>They had landed about a quarter of a mile away +from the main building of the mine, and because +of the boys’ inexperience on snowshoes it was a +slow walk.</p> +<p>“I feel just like a duck,” Jerry grumbled as he +brought up the rear, flopping along in the clumsy, +webbed footgear. “Overgrown tennis rackets, +that’s all they are.”</p> +<p>“You’re not supposed to try and walk the way +you do in shoes,” Sandy instructed him. “You just +shuffle along.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_166">166</div> +<p>At last they stood beneath the big ramshackle +structure. It <i>was</i> spooky, Sandy had to admit to +himself, just as Jerry said. Once this building had +been the nerve center of a booming industry, +buzzing with activity and life. Now it stood on the +hillside, gaunt, decaying and silent. Before many +more years it would become a rickety skeleton.</p> +<p>He shuddered as Parker led them up on the +moldy loading platform and into the tomblike +dampness of the shed. “We can go on up to the +main building through here. There are stairs +right inside.” They passed through a doorway +into a room illuminated only by the slivers of daylight +that penetrated the cracked boards.</p> +<p>Suddenly, Russ Parker did an about-face and +began talking. “Well, here we are.” Only he +seemed to be talking to someone in back of them.</p> +<p>Sandy whirled quickly and saw that the doorway +was blocked by a huge man wearing a stocking +cap and a plaid mackinaw. His face was hidden +in shadow. But the big Lüger pistol in his right +hand was very plain to see.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_167">167</div> +<h2 id="c14"><span class="small">CHAPTER FOURTEEN</span> +<br />The Plot Revealed</h2> +<p>In his other hand the stranger carried a square +electric lantern. He turned the powerful beam on +Sandy and Jerry. “Did you have any trouble with +them, Parker?”</p> +<p>“Not a bit,” Parker said. “The Steele boy suggested +himself that we land here. And of course +there was no trouble at all persuading him to fly +out here with me.”</p> +<p>The boys looked from Parker to the other man +in bewilderment. “Russ,” Sandy pleaded, “tell +us what’s going on. Who is this guy?” He turned +on the stranger belligerently. “Do you know +where my father is?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_168">168</div> +<p>“My name is Kruger,” the man snapped. “And, +yes, I do know where your father is. Now, turn +around and march up those stairs.” He waved the +pistol at them threateningly.</p> +<p>As the boys started up the stairs, the men fell +behind and lowered their voices. “How do you +like that!” Jerry declared. “Russ Parker is in with +these characters.”</p> +<p>“I can hardly believe it,” Sandy said miserably. +“Anyhow, at least I know Dad is okay—so far,” he +amended.</p> +<p>“No conversation, please,” Kruger ordered +sharply.</p> +<p>“Parker, you sneak,” Sandy said bitterly, “you +won’t get away with this. The authorities know +my dad and his friends are missing. And when we +don’t show back at the airfield there’ll be even +more search planes combing this area.”</p> +<p>The pilot began to laugh. “No one knows your +father and the others are missing. No one at all. +By now the hotel has received a telegram from +Skagway saying that Professor Crowell and his +party returned there on urgent business and that +someone will pick up their luggage and pay their +hotel bill.”</p> +<p>Sandy was confused. “But—but what about the +people at the airport? You said there were search +planes out looking for the missing plane.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_169">169</div> +<p>“There is no missing plane. Yesterday morning +four men rented a plane. Last evening the plane +returned—with four men. There was another +crew on duty at the airport. They couldn’t suspect +that the passengers were four <i>different</i> men.”</p> +<p>Kruger seemed to enjoy the boys’ discomfort. +“By the time the American authorities discover +that any of you are missing you will be well out of +reach in Siberia.”</p> +<p>“Across that narrow stretch of water we were +talking about,” Parker taunted them. “The Bering +Strait.”</p> +<p>The man with the gun took them through +a series of tunnels that slanted up steeply through +the mountainside. The ascent was severe, and +every ten minutes or so they would stop to +rest. When they emerged into the open again, +Sandy saw that they were at the site of the main +diggings. The terrain was pockmarked with shafts +and tunnels. Rusty train tracks disappeared into +the gloomy mine tunnels, and abandoned dump +cars tilted up through the snow drifts about the +entrances. Far below, the main building of the +Kennecott mine squatted at the foot of the mountain; +from this perspective it reminded Sandy of +a miniature cardboard house sitting on a floor of +cotton beneath a Christmas tree. They followed +a path around a bend to the mouth of a huge tunnel. +To one side of it a flaking, rusted cable car +rocked gently from a metal cable that was equally +rusted. It scraped and screeched monotonously at +the slightest gust of wind.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_170">170</div> +<p>“In here,” Kruger ordered. “This was one of +the main shafts of the mine.”</p> +<p>They walked along the rail ties back about one +hundred yards, where a rectangle of yellow light +splashed into the corridor from a doorway in one +wall of the tunnel. Kruger motioned them +through the doorway into a big chamber that evidently +had served as a locker room for the miners. +Rotting wooden benches and tin lockers cluttered +up the room, many of them overturned, all of +them sagging. A large gasoline lantern burned on +a long wooden table in the middle of the room. +On either side of the table sat a strange man with +a rifle across his knees. Across the table, seated all +in a row on a bench, their hands and feet tied, +were Dr. Steele, Professor Crowell, Lou Mayer +and Tagish Charley.</p> +<p>“Dad!” Sandy burst out. “Am I glad to see you! +Are you okay?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_171">171</div> +<p>Dr. Steele managed a strained smile. “I’m all +right, Son. We all are. But I can’t say I’m glad to +see you boys.” He turned to one of the men with +the rifles. “Did you have to drag them into it, +Strak? They’re only boys. They don’t even know +what this is all about.”</p> +<p>The man he addressed, a short, intense fellow +who moved with the quick, nervous motions of a +squirrel, stood up and walked toward the new arrivals. +He stopped in front of Sandy and stroked +his prominent clean-shaven chin.</p> +<p>“So this is your son, Dr. Steele? A fine-looking +lad.” He spoke careful, formal English. “I, too, +regret that he and the other youth had to become +involved. But we couldn’t take any chances. They +would have notified the police that you were missing +and....”</p> +<p>“Don’t be a fool!” Professor Crowell snapped. +“The police will discover our absence soon +enough.”</p> +<p>Strak smiled patiently. “I disagree. Secrecy has +been the keynote of your project. Only a few +people in both your governments—high officials—know +your real purpose in coming to Alaska. +By the time they discover you are missing, we will +all be safely out of the country.”</p> +<p>“Of course, Dr. Steele, you could spare your +son and his friend a lot of unnecessary hardship +by co-operating with us,” Kruger said. “Just the +answer to one simple question....”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_172">172</div> +<p>“You’re wasting your time,” Dr. Steele said +flatly.</p> +<p>“Have it your own way.” Strak sighed wearily. +“You will tell us, you know. That is certain. Today, +tomorrow, next week or six months from +now. We can wait.”</p> +<p>Kruger pushed the boys toward the bench +where the other hostages were seated. “Parker, +help me tie these two up.”</p> +<p>When the boys were securely bound, Strak motioned +Parker to follow him. “Come, Parker. Let +us go outside. We have a few things to discuss in +private.”</p> +<p>“You want Malik and me to stay here and guard +the prisoners?” Kruger asked.</p> +<p>Strak hesitated a moment, then shook his head. +“No, come along. You should all hear this.” He +glanced at the prisoners. “I don’t think they’ll get +loose.” He smiled. “And even if they did, where +would they go? We’ll be up at the entrance—the +only entrance.”</p> +<p>The four men left the room and their footsteps +echoed off down the tunnel. In the dim light of +the lantern Dr. Steele’s face was drawn and pale.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_173">173</div> +<p>“I’ll never forgive myself, getting you boys +mixed up in this,” he said. “Once I knew they +were on to us, that we hadn’t deceived them into +thinking this was an innocent geological expedition, +I should have sent you back to California on +the first plane.”</p> +<p>“Don’t blame yourself, Dad,” Sandy said quietly. +“I wouldn’t have left you, knowing that you +were in some kind of serious trouble.”</p> +<p>“That goes for me too, sir,” Jerry backed him +up.</p> +<p>“What I don’t understand,” Sandy said, “is how +they caught you.”</p> +<p>“We walked right into their hands,” Professor +Crowell explained. “Parker knew we were coming +up to the Kennecott mine and tipped them off. +They flew up ahead of us, hid their plane in the +trees and covered up the ski tracks. When we arrived +they were waiting for us.”</p> +<p>“A whole gang of them,” Lou Mayer put in. +“Seven of them, armed to the teeth. Four of them +took our plane back to Cordova so the people at +the airport wouldn’t report us missing.”</p> +<p>“I know,” Sandy said grimly. “They took care +of the hotel too. By the time the authorities get +suspicious it will be too late. The one called Kruger +says we’ll be in Russia by then.”</p> +<p>Dr. Steele and Professor Crowell looked at +each other hopelessly. “Unless we tell them what +they want to know,” Dr. Steele said.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_174">174</div> +<p>Sandy’s eyes were puzzled. “Just what are they +after? I guess you can tell us now.”</p> +<p>Dr. Steele smiled wanly. “I guess we can.” He +paused before he went on. “Although he’s better +known as a geologist, Professor Crowell is one of +Canada’s leading physicists. During World War +Two he was assigned to rocket research work for +the Canadian Army and continued to specialize in +this field after the war.</p> +<p>“About six months ago an old Yukon prospector +submitted an ore sample to a government +assay office at Whitehorse. He said he had +been prospecting on the Alaskan border and +struck what he believed was a vein of gold. An +analysis of the sample revealed traces of copper, +but no gold. But much more important, it revealed +strains of a rare element that the Canadian +government was testing as a catalytic agent in top-secret +experiments with a new solid rocket fuel.</p> +<p>“For years now rocket experts have acknowledged +that solid fuels are more practical than liquid +propellants—even more so for the big manned +rocket ships of the future. The trouble is, up until +now the solid fuels haven’t been too dependable. +Professor Crowell believes this new element +will solve the most serious drawbacks, but unhappily +it’s about as rare as uranium. During the +past few months there have been teams out searching +for it all over the Dominion, without much +success.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_175">175</div> +<p>“Then, unexpectedly, this old prospector +shows up with an ore sample laced liberally with +it. The assay office at Whitehorse dispatched it to +Ottawa immediately and Professor Crowell was +consulted. It was his opinion that they were on to +something big. A special agent flew up to Whitehorse +to interview the prospector, but tragically—any +way you look at it—the poor old man had +passed away from pneumonia only a few days before +the agent arrived.</p> +<p>“Now the big problem was to find out where +the dead man had picked up the ore. All kinds of +soil and rock analyses were made on it without +any specific results. It was the professor’s guess +that it came from somewhere in the vicinity of the +Kennecott copper mine. There was copper in +the sample, of course, and the old miner had +mentioned vaguely at the assay office that he had +discovered it somewhere ‘on the border.’ A layman +couldn’t be expected to know exactly where +the border lies; actually, he may have wandered +well into Alaska.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_176">176</div> +<p>“In any case, the Canadian government conferred +with Washington, and it was decided to send +a joint team up to Alaska composed of Professor +Crowell, Lou Mayer and myself.” He glanced toward +the doorway and added sourly, “We didn’t +count on it ending up a three-nation team.”</p> +<p>“How did they find out?” Sandy wanted to +know.</p> +<p>Dr. Steele shrugged. “They have the most efficient +espionage system in the world. That we +have to give them credit for.”</p> +<p>Sandy pursed his lips solemnly. “But they still +don’t know what the element is?”</p> +<p>“Or how it’s employed in the manufacture of +the rocket fuel,” Professor Crowell declared emphatically. +“I’m the only one who can tell them +that. And I’ll die first.”</p> +<p>“Watch it,” Jerry cautioned. “I think I hear +them coming back.”</p> +<p>The sound of approaching footsteps reverberated +hollowly through the mine. Strak appeared +in the doorway alone. “Kruger and Malik have +gone down the mountain to help Parker clear a +runway,” he told them. “We’ll be taking off with +a heavy load.”</p> +<p>Sandy made a quick mental count. “That plane +will never get off the ground with ten of us.”</p> +<p>Strak smiled. “I agree. But there are only seven +of us who will be making the trip.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_177">177</div> +<p>“What do you mean?” Dr. Steele demanded.</p> +<p>“Just that you and your son and Professor +Crowell are the only ones who have any real value +to us. The rest will remain here.”</p> +<p>Dr. Steele was shocked. “You can’t intend to +leave them tied up in this mine? They’ll starve to +death or die of exposure.”</p> +<p>Strak shrugged. “That’s a risk we will have to +take. Perhaps in time they may be able to get +loose. Perhaps they will make it back to civilization. +Who can tell? The Indian seems to be a resourceful +woodsman.” He walked over and stood +in front of Tagish Charley. “Tell me, Doctor, he +<i>is</i> alive, isn’t he?”</p> +<p>Tagish Charley’s face betrayed no trace of emotion. +He had not spoken a word since the boys’ +arrival. All the while he had sat stiffly on the +bench, hands behind him, eyes staring fixedly at +the rock wall in front of him—as detached as any +cigar-store Indian could be, or so it seemed to +Sandy.</p> +<p>In sudden irritation Strak bent close to Charley, +flashing his electric torch into his face. “You +insolent Indian dog! You can speak, can’t you?”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_178">178</div> +<p>Then, for the first time, Charley showed some +sign of life. Slowly he lifted his eyes to Strak’s +face and said solemnly, “Charley too busy to talk—until +<i>now</i>!” As he shouted the last word, his +two powerful arms whipped free from behind him +and wrapped around his tormentor.</p> +<p>Strak tried desperately to bring up his rifle, +but he was helpless in Charley’s grizzly-bear hug. +The air whistled out of his lungs like a wheezing +bellows, and there was the distinct snap of a rib +cracking. He moaned softly and fainted. Charley +let him drop to the floor.</p> +<p>“Atta boy, Charley!” Jerry said exultantly.</p> +<p>They all winced as the Indian held up his +hands in the light. His wrists were raw and bleeding +from rubbing at the rope. “Big spike in bench +where I sit. Slow work, but at end I saw rope +through.” He bent over Strak and removed a +hunting knife from the man’s belt. Quickly he cut +through the ropes that bound his own ankles. +Then he went along the bench freeing the others.</p> +<p>“Come on!” Dr. Steele said, grabbing up +Strak’s rifle from the ground. “No time to lose. +The others will be coming back soon.” He led +the way out of the room and down the tunnel to +the entrance.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_179">179</div> +<p>At the foot of the mountain beyond the abandoned +mine building, they could see the plane sitting +like a toy in the snow. The three enemy +agents were bustling around it, mere specks at +this distance.</p> +<p>“They’re still working on the runway,” Sandy +observed.</p> +<p>“What do we do when they come back?” Jerry +asked.</p> +<p>Lou Mayer indicated the rifle the doctor was +holding. “We have one gun. We can make a fight +of it at least.”</p> +<p>Dr. Steele was not enthusiastic. “All three of +them are armed. I’m afraid it wouldn’t be much +of a fight.” His voice was grim. “Some of us would +be hurt—or killed.”</p> +<p>“Why couldn’t we rush down the hill when we +see them start up?” Professor Crowell suggested. +“They’d be inside, coming up through the shafts. +By the time they got up here, we’d have quite a +head start on them. If we get to that plane—”</p> +<p>Dr. Steele shook his head. “We’d never stand a +chance without snowshoes, and they’re all down +at the mine shed. They’d have a field day picking +us off with their rifles while we flounder through +those hip-deep drifts on the mountain.”</p> +<p>“Then we’ve got no choice,” Lou Mayer said +gloomily. “We’ve got to make a stand here.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_180">180</div> +<p>“Wait a minute!” Sandy cried out, the bud of +a wild inspiration forming in his mind. “Is there +any chance <i>that</i> thing still works?” The others followed +his gaze upward to the old cable car creaking +and rocking to the right of the entrance.</p> +<p>The professor sighed. “I’m afraid not. These +cable cars were operated by power machinery +down at the depot.”</p> +<p>“I know,” Sandy said. “But we’d be coasting +downhill.”</p> +<p>There was a gleam of interest in Dr. Steele’s +eyes. “That sounds logical. What do you say we +have a look at it, Son? But keep down. We don’t +want Kruger and the others to spot us against the +snow.”</p> +<p>They slunk out of the shadow of the mine entrance, +darting quickly behind the cover of the +cable car. Dr. Steele climbed into the open cab +and squinted up at the rigging. “Looks to me as if +the only thing that’s restraining it is that safety +lock,” he said.</p> +<p>Sandy disagreed. “What about the pulley cable? +That must be anchored in the shed below. She +won’t roll unless that’s free.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_181">181</div> +<p>Dr. Steele studied the arrangement of rollers +and cables more closely. “You’re right,” he admitted. +He pointed to the steel hook-eye at the +back of the car where the pulley cable was attached. +“The wire is pretty frayed back here. Possibly +we could hack through it. I saw an old ax +back in the cave.”</p> +<p>“It’s sure worth a try,” Sandy said. “How do +you think that overhead cable will hold up when +we start rolling downhill?”</p> +<p>“I’d say it’s in pretty good condition. They put +a good coating of grease on all the machinery before +they shut the mine down. They must have +hoped to use it again, or possibly to sell it.”</p> +<p>Professor Crowell’s voice rang out urgently +from the tunnel entrance. “Hurry up! Kruger +and the others are starting back.”</p> +<p>Dr. Steele pulled Sandy down out of sight in +the car. “We’ll stay here until they enter the +shed.” He called over to Tagish Charley, “Charley, +duck back into the mine and get a couple of +those picks that are lying around.”</p> +<p>Peering over the rim of the cable car, Sandy +watched the three men make their way on snowshoes +back to the mine. As soon as they had disappeared +into the shed, Dr. Steele shouted for the +others. “Come on, we’ve got to work fast. Charley, +over here with those picks, quickly!”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_182">182</div> +<p>Lou Mayer, Professor Crowell and Jerry scrambled +aboard the car while Dr. Steele gave instructions +to Tagish Charley. “You work on the hook-eye +and pulley, Charley. I’ll knock out the safety +lock. The rest of you just pray.”</p> +<p>One solid blow tripped the safety lock, and the +car moved forward about a foot until the taut cable +stopped it. The cable itself was more of a +problem. Sandy had the uncomfortable sensation +that his leaping heart was trying to squirm out of +his throat and escape from his body.</p> +<p>The tension was unbearable as Charley +pounded away at the pulley with strong rhythmic +strokes of the ax. At first it seemed impervious to +the dull blade. Then, with relief, Sandy saw one +strand snap with a musical twang. Charley swung +harder, encouraged by this success, and another +strand broke. Each strand that let go put additional +stress on the remaining strands, making +Charley’s task a little easier. The last two snapped +together with a loud report.</p> +<p>The car shuddered and began to roll forward +slowly. There was the nerve-shattering screech of +metal against metal as the overhead rollers and +the main cable protested violently at being used +so rudely after twenty-one years of inactivity. +Snow, rust and metal shavings cascaded down on +the car’s occupants as it picked up momentum.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_183">183</div> +<p>The boys let go with a tremendous cheer and +Professor Crowell and Dr. Steele shook hands solemnly. +Sandy glanced behind them at the rapidly +diminishing tunnel entrance, but as yet there was +no sign of Kruger and the other two enemy +agents.</p> +<p>Fortunately the pitting of the cable and the +rust and stiffness of the rollers reduced their acceleration +sufficiently so that they crashed into +the bumpers at the foot of the incline with only a +moderate jolt. The cable car split the rotting +wood on the bumper’s face, but the springs behind +it cushioned the jolt.</p> +<p>Sandy extricated himself from the mass of +scrambled limbs gingerly. “Everybody okay? No +broken bones?”</p> +<p>There was a chorus of relieved okays.</p> +<p>Dr. Steele climbed out into the snow. “All +right. Into the shed and on with those snowshoes.” +Apprehensively, he looked up the mountain, +but the enemy agents still had not appeared.</p> +<p>As Sandy strapped on the great clumsy snowshoes, +he made a suggestion. “Let’s take the other +four pairs with us. That will slow them up even +more if they try to follow us.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_184">184</div> +<p>“Good idea,” Tagish Charley grunted. “But I +got better one.” He picked up the ax he had carried +with him from the cable car and began to +attack the surplus snowshoes furiously. When he +had demolished them, he straightened up and, to +everyone’s amazement, grinned broadly. “They +no go very far now.”</p> +<p>They were halfway to the plane when a distant +gunshot came to them faintly through the thin, +dry air. Turning, Sandy could make out three ant-like +specks on the mountainside near the tunnel +where they had been held prisoner.</p> +<p>“They’ve discovered we’re gone,” he said.</p> +<p>“And they’re shooting at us,” Jerry commented +nervously.</p> +<p>“We’re not in much danger at this range,” Professor +Crowell assured them. “Without telescopic +sights, it would take a mighty lucky shot to hit +anyone.”</p> +<p>Nevertheless, they were all greatly relieved +when they were seated snugly in the cabin of the +plane and Professor Crowell had the motors gunning +smoothly. “Those fellows did a mighty fine +job on this runway,” the professor said charitably. +He advanced the throttle and the ship glided +ahead smoothly. They cleared the trees at the far +end of the clearing with plenty of room to spare +and climbed in a sweeping curve that took them +over the mountain. Far below on the snowy slope +they could see the frustrated agents hopping +about and shaking their fists in the air.</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_185">185</div> +<h2 id="c15"><span class="small">CHAPTER FIFTEEN</span> +<br />Final Victory</h2> +<p>“They’ve caught the entire gang!” Dr. Steele +reported excitedly as he burst into the boys’ hotel +room at Cordova a little after eight the next +morning.</p> +<p>Sandy sat up and massaged the sleep from his +eyes. “No kidding, Dad. When?”</p> +<p>“Army Intelligence moved in on Strak, Parker +and the other two at dawn. They gave up without +a fight. Seems they put in a pretty rough night. +Strak was in bad shape, thanks to Charley, but +he’ll live to stand trial for espionage.”</p> +<p>“What about the rest of the gang?”</p> +<p>“The local police arrested them as they were +trying to board a freighter at Valdez. It’s a clean +sweep.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_186">186</div> +<p>“Wow!” Jerry was awake now, his eyes as big +and shiny as tin plates. “That’s what I call action.” +Grinning, he added, “We sure could have used a +little bit of that kind of action yesterday. Where +were all the cops and G-men then?”</p> +<p>“In an operation like this one,” Dr. Steele explained, +“they had to stay way out on the fringes +until the last moment. That was a risk we knew +we’d have to take from the start if we hoped to +spring a trap on this gang of ruthless saboteurs. If +we had an army of bodyguards dogging our footsteps, +they never would have been lured in.”</p> +<p>“Lured in?” Sandy was perplexed. “You mean +we were sort of decoys for the spies?”</p> +<p>“In a way,” Dr. Steele admitted. “I couldn’t tell +you that, even yesterday. But now it’s officially +okay to let you in on it.”</p> +<p>“But what about the rocket fuel Professor +Crowell was working on? I thought we came up to +look for some rare element.”</p> +<p>“That of course was our primary reason for +coming to Alaska. And of course we’ll continue to +search for Element X. But when the enemy agents +began to hound us so persistently, we saw an opportunity +to make a double killing.”</p> +<p>Jerry stretched. “Only we came awful close to +being the ones who were killed.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_187">187</div> +<p>“We had a narrow scrape,” Dr. Steele agreed. +“It was ingenious of them to take back the plane +to Cordova after they ambushed us at the mine. +Our people were holding back, of course, and it +really threw them off the trail. As far as they +knew, we had checked back into the city and then +disappeared into thin air. With a bit more luck +the gang might have smuggled us out of the +country.”</p> +<p>Jerry laughed. “Hey, Sandy, can you see us +going to school in Siberia?”</p> +<p>“Frankly, no,” Sandy told him. “You have +enough trouble with English.”</p> +<p>Dr. Steele broke in with “That reminds me. +We have to think of getting you boys back to Valley +View. You don’t want to miss too much more +school.”</p> +<p>“Speak for yourself, Doctor,” Jerry crowed. +“How can you expect us to go back and associate +with little school kids after battling Yukon blizzards, +Kodiak bears and spies? It’s positively undignified.”</p> +<p>Dr. Steele smiled tolerantly. “Don’t feel that +way, Jerry. Remember, adventure and excitement +may be just around the corner, whether +you’re in Alaska or California.”</p> +<div class="pb" id="Page_188">188</div> +<p>“Yeah, that’s right,” Jerry said thoughtfully. +Then he added, with a gleam in his eye, “Besides, +it’ll be great to come up with our story when +Pepper March starts spouting about that cruise +he was supposed to take. Boy, will <i>his</i> eyes pop! +And you know what? We might even be able to +stump Quiz Taylor. Wouldn’t that be something? +Okay, Valley View, here we come! How about it, +Sandy?”</p> +<p>Sandy stretched blissfully. “I’m ready. In fact, +I’m way ahead of you. How about next summer?”</p> +<div class="box"> +<h3 id="c16">SANDY STEELE ADVENTURES</h3> +<p class="center rubric">1. BLACK TREASURE</p> +<p>Sandy Steele and Quiz spend an action-filled summer +in the oil fields of the Southwest. In their search for oil +and uranium, they unmask a dangerous masquerader.</p> +<p class="center rubric">2. DANGER AT MORMON CROSSING</p> +<p>On a hunting trip in the Lost River section of Idaho, +Sandy and Mike ride the rapids, bag a mountain lion, +and stumble onto the answer to a hundred-year-old +mystery.</p> +<p class="center rubric">3. STORMY VOYAGE</p> +<p>Sandy and Jerry James ship as deck hands on one of +the “long boats” of the Great Lakes. They are plunged +into a series of adventures and find themselves involved +in a treacherous plot.</p> +<p class="center rubric">4. FIRE AT RED LAKE</p> +<p>Sandy and his friends pitch in to fight a forest fire in +Minnesota. Only they and Sandy’s uncle know that +there is an unexploded A-bomb in the area to add to +the danger.</p> +<p class="center rubric">5. SECRET MISSION TO ALASKA</p> +<p>A pleasant Christmas trip turns into a startling adventure. +Sandy and Jerry participate in a perilous dog-sled +race, encounter a wounded bear, and are taken as +hostages by a ruthless enemy.</p> +<p class="center rubric">6. TROUBLED WATERS</p> +<p>When Sandy and Jerry mistakenly sail off in a stranger’s +sloop instead of their own, they land in a sea of trouble. +Their attempts to outmaneuver a desperate crew are +intertwined with fascinating sailing lore.</p> +<p class="center"><b>PUBLISHED BY SIMON AND SCHUSTER</b></p> +</div> +<h2 id="tn">Transcriber’s Notes</h2><ul><li>Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public domain in the country of publication.</li> +<li>Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and dialect unchanged.</li> +<li>In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.)</li></ul> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 50320 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |