Adventure Magazine Cover — page 46: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

610 with them. Such happiness is no business of mine. I know that such happiness isn’t right for Winter in the white darkness on the dark snow. Gail told me— “Oh, we only talked of what was ahead of us in the world.” And Gail was honorable, so I believe him. Next morning he hit out early to bring kindlings from the timber, for they were to travel to the Tanana all above tree-line, leaving the next day after. He ran ahead of his sled, singing. The air was warmer, the brass faded from the sky, which was full of lamb’s-tail clouds. In there, storms are rare, but terrible when they come, for snow generally falls at night, almost through starlight. Gail was thinking of the dead men’s foresight in building the cabin shel- tered by the hills, when, near the edge of a small pond, a root caught a thong of his shoe, so that he stumbled and fell. Rising to his feet, he felt his hand slip over some- thing in the snow, smooth as if greased. He pulled it out—a red leather blank- book, or diary, you might say. He opened it and started to read, turning from page to page. Soon his face lighted up. ‘‘The old man’s journal,’ he said aloud. ‘Her father’s.” And then he read some entries like, “‘Roan lost four hours.” “Killed a bull moose, horns in velvet.” ‘Chelthan away all night, hunting.”’ ‘“Who’s Chelthan?” he asked. And then he saw another entry. His eyes and hands grew stiff as ice. He swore as he read it the second time: I give him the pizened rice this morning. But the man smelt it. [ll have his life yet. Gail clapped the book into his pocket and hiked back to the cabin as if the devil were behind him. He found the girl outside the door, loading a sled, and took a grip on himsclf. “T found this here down on the tundra,” he said breathless. “Guess you know it, too.” “My father’s!” she said quick. “Give it here!” and tried to take it from his hands. “T ken read the handwriting,” he said with a chill in his voice. “I see how he tried to ‘poison sable.’”’ Shaking all over, she asked him what right he had to read it. “Who a better, girl.” he said, “than I who love his daughter?” Adventure ‘““Let me have it!”’ was all she answered, closing her wide eyes and holding out her hand. He made no move, just looked gently at her and shook his head. “Why ain’t you told me in all these months, girl? Why ain’t you told me last night?” he asked, his throat filling. “I wouldn’t hev loved you any the less. We could ’a’ borne the stain together, girl. Why ain’t you told me that the old man killed your husband?” “T didn’t know!” she cried. ‘I wasn’t sure. I only suspected. Father hated him —yes, from the day last June we ran away and were married. I was waiting for the bodies, to make sure—to clear my father.” ‘Couldn’t you put two and two to- gether?”’ said Gail, showing her the en- tries in the diary, as their white breaths mingled. When she had read them, Gail said: “Chelthan—funny name! Was your hus- band a Swede? I figure it he was lured up the glacier, and in the fight they both fell In.” She did not answer him. ‘Why should your old man kill him?” he said gently. ‘‘ You ain’t told me yet.” “Wait!” said the girl, catching her breath. “‘Wait! If you love me, Gail— love me—don’t ask me yet! Not till we’ve started. On the way home.” He took her in his arms and carried her into the cabin, not feeling how all her limbs were trembling, and laid her on her bed. He walked the floor a while, his head down between his shoulders, looking now and then at the pictures nailed there above her. “Girl,” he said, ‘‘it’s all over and we're saved. Starting to-morrow, it’s a case of marry at the first sky-pilot—or a claim-recorder’s office would do, eh, girl?” She turned her back to him on the bed, burying her head. ‘‘Let’s get rid of these,” he said, leaning over her. “Sight of them only brings to mind what has near ruined us both, but now is buried and forgotten.”” And with that he ripped the several photos, including those of her father and the Siwash, from the logs. First he tore up the father, and the pieces fell on the bed into her hair. But the picture of the Indian stuck in his hand. Tt turned him into stone. His face grew darker than the snow outside, as his lips COmiclboookkSs.EG©