Adventure Magazine Cover, April 1916 — page 157: what you’re looking at

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

The Relocation of Montana Creek whip-butts of the drivers taking the place of the whip-lashes at such short range. It was the crisis for which Sark and Bas- sett were watching. “Now, the runner trick, pardner!’’ whis- pered Eric. ‘‘And heave with every mus- cle!’ Taking unreturned two vicious blows apiece squarely upon their parka hoods, they leaned out on either side of their bouncing outfits. Their hands gripped the upright supports of their antagonists’ sled- runners. ‘They heaved upward with one tremendous heave, and both outfits heeled high on one runner, quivered there an in- stant and capsized. with a crash. “Even money!” gloated Sark, wiping away the smear of crimson from his eyes. “Here’s your whip, Tom, and yonder’s the mouth of Swede Creek. Go blood-leather- ing to it!” : There was no outside support left Casino. No cunning or subterfuge of numbers avail- ed him now. Man to man and dog to dog it was straight and open racing. The Yukon was wide at Swede Creek, and Bassett had plenty of opportunity to swing well clear of Casino’s sled. He gave himself lots of lee- way, off to Casino’s left, and then puton his spurt. Casino likewise laid on the wal- rus-hide to maintain his short lead, and Gunboat Kane, still on the tail of the sled, crouched low to keep his weight well down on the ice and make it easier for the dogs. ‘‘Wonder Gunboat doesn’t drop off!” yelled Sark through the whistling wind-cur- rent of their flight. “Yep,” screamed his partner. ‘Looks like as if they had another set of ivories in their dice-box. Don’t you drop off till he does. He’s lookin’ ugly and I wouldn’t be surprised to see him pull a gun. Watch him keen, pardner. And jist cast an eye to the rear!’ Sark got to his knees, sighted up-river and quickly flopped down again. ‘“‘They’re coming!” he gritted. ‘The rest of the stampede in a solid swarm. And, Tom, remember there are three more in it with options on our claim.” The cracking of Bassett’s whip redoubled. His lead-dog’s nose crept past the tail of Casino’s sled and up, up, inch by inch, to its front. Now his leader paralleled Casi- no’s wheeler, Casino’s fourth dog, third dog, second dog, and finally Casino’s leader. Thus the two teams hung for nearly a 155 mile, fighting it out every foot of the way, straining to the utmost of their super- beasts’ natures under the furious urge of voice and lash. They ran low to the river surface, stretching their very joints in the marvelous lope of their savage forebears, their flanks raw-red from the flaying whip, their hoar-rimed fur steaming in a cloud, their breaths puffing like smoke-jets, and bloody slaver streaking from their jaws. Slowly, in an endeavor that was agony for his team, Bassett began to pull ahead. Even as dog by dog Tom had drawn up on Casino, now dog by dog he began to drop him behind. The tail of his sled cleared the nose of Casino’s leader and painfully opened out a gap. “‘We win!” shrieked Sark, shaking his gantleted fist at the frantically slashing Casino. ‘You hear, you shark-faced son of an ancient Pharisee? We win!’ But even in the midst of Sark’s exulta- tion disappointment’s buffet smote. him. Straight ahead and only a little distance from the bluff at the Klondike River’s mouth he glimpsed Ante Baker rushing out from shore with a string of five fresh dogs. “A relay!’ he snarled. ‘‘Consarn his coat of seven colors and his heart of seventy wiles!” “T was afraid of it all along,” spoke Bas- sett. ‘Eric, I was afraid it was to stage a relay and not to record by proxy that Ante broke for Dawson.”’ TOM flailed the last inch of leather (>) into the huskies, and they respond- ed with their last ounce of strength. It was apparently Sark’s and Bassett’s only chance to gain a lead, while Casino ex- changed dogs, and hold it if possible in the face of his certain lightning - finish. But they did not get such a lead as was to be expected. Casino made no ordinary stop to ex- change. While still in full flight he cut the haul-rope which fastened the traces. ‘The released dogs, shooting forward with as- tounding impetus, swerved bewildered, per- formed a dizzy stagger and fell exhausted on the ice. The sled still shot on, and be- fore it had slowed to a halt, Ante Baker, haling his string of fresh animals along by hand, swung them in ahead of it and fast- ened up the traces on the run. It was beautiful work, a new team galloping where the old had been, done in the flicker of an CoOMmicboooks CO