Adventure Magazine Cover, April 1916 — page 158: what you’re looking at

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

156 eye like the shift of a sleight-of-hand artist, and though it spelled defeat for him, Sark could not help but admire the dexterity of the exploit. “Tom, they’re sure old-timers, all!’’ he breathed, as his partner hurled his team by the bluff onto the rubble of rough ice which stretched across the Klondike’s mouth clear from Klondike City to Dawson itself, halfa mile north on the other bank. ‘“‘No matter how hard we crowd them, they always have a side-step left. It’s up to Fate and you. T’ll drop off here and lighten you that much,” But to Eric’s astonishment Tom vigor- ously demurred. | “Don’t you do it! he commanded. “TI want you with me. Mebbe we kin fight ’em off. Your weight don’t make a smatter of difference to this team. If they kin’t win with you, they sure kin’t win without you. - Here, crawl up and drive. The huskies is used to me now. A new voice sometimes works wonders.”’ At Sark’s call the MacKenzie Rivers, though ostensibly on their last legs, bucked up and let out another link. Yet Bassett, looking back, saw that Casino’s fresh team now in full stride was rapidly overhauling them. Behind Casino, Tom glimpsed. the main body of the stampede, sweeping in solid array, leathering demoniacally for the finish. It was the middle of the forenoon. Full day bathed the river and etched out the mountained shores and the forests of spruce phalanxed upon the mountains. The gut of the writhing waterway was crammed with rocking outfits. In a weird throng they poured along, over three hundred men in parkas, mackinaws and furs, white as ghosts with their frozen sweat, mushing sin- gly or in pairs, and flaying like unbridled maniacs their flagging dogs. The thunder of the sleds upon the river ice reverberated in a hollow booming. The cracking whips rattled like artillery. Here a sled jammed. There a man stumbled. Yonder a string of played dogs slipped down. Yet nothing stayed the onpour. It flowed forward, an irresistible sea, and those who were swamped in its front-and tram- pled upon came up out of its devious under- tow at the back and pressed grimly on to override others as unfortunate as them- selves. A vast barbaric army, it charged, intent upon a single goal, and the delay Adventure caused by the leaders’ sled-jockeying all the way down from Indian River, by the whip battle and by Casino’s exchange of teams had permitted it to gain up and get right in the running for that goal. The partners’ outfit was half-way across the mouth of the Klondike River. There was only a quarter of a mile to go, and Tom and Eric could see a huge crowd, gathered no doubt at Ante Baker’s news of the com- ing stampede, blackening the river- bank. Also, they could hear the crowd and knew that the crowd’s sympathies were with them. The mob was gesticulating frantically and yelling for them to win. But Sark, glancing over his shoulder, saw Casino’s team only forty yards away and overtaking his bushed animals as if they were frozen in the ice. ‘““We lose, Tom; we lose!’ he groaned. “It isn’t in this dog-flesh to do it.” ‘“‘Then mebbe it’s in the dog-feed!” re- turned Bassett. ‘‘Gimme that mackinaw bundle.” ‘“‘What for, you idiot? You can’t feed our team going like this.” “T don’t wanta feed our team. Gimme the bundle, lightnin’ quick, and don’t pinch it too hard.” “Tom, their team?” gasped Sark in- tuitively. He broke the cords and shoved over the bundle which squirmed in his hands. ‘‘And alive? But what in thunder is it?” ‘‘Rabbit’s feet—for luck!’ chuckled Bas- sett. “Only the rabbit’s on the feet!” He stripped away the mackinaw which had been converted into a bag, and held up by the ears a spotless snowshoe rabbit. “T knowed that greedy geezer of a Casino would have a relay under his medulla ob- longata,”’ Tom grinned. “But here’s some- thin’ as beats a relay. It wasn’t the gee- pole I was chasin’ so long in the forest, Eric. It was this joker here. The scrub’s lousy with ’em thar, and that’s whar the Montana Creek squaws has their snares set. I got him in the snares. They was full of dead ones, but it took me some time to spot one that wasn’t strangled.” Bassett leaned outward as he spoke and planked the snowshoe rabbit down in front of Casino’s speeding team. Casino’s fresh lead-dog snapped at it, but the rabbit leaped aside. Every dog in the team snapped as he ran, missed, and wheeled sharply back for the chase. Cursing furiously, Casino tried to stop the swerve with his whip, but ~ CoOMmMichoooks (©