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W ÏS of the Sitka Charley, Indian Though He Was, Knew, and Failed Not in the Fight, with Grim Death By JACK LONDON Copyright by Jack London H j!TK.\ CHARLEY J a< hit ved the impie -jl other Indians might 'Ijgg known as much of tin dom of the trail as did he; but he alone knew the white man's wisdom, tin* honor of the trail, and the law. But these tilings had not come to him in a day. The aboriginal mind is slow to generalize, and many fac^i, repeated often, are required to compass an understanding. Sitka Char ley, from boyhood, had been thrown continually with white men, and as a man he had elected to cast his for tunes with them, expatriating himself, once and for all, from his own people. Even then, respecting, almost vener ating their power, and pondering over it. lie had yet to divine its secret es h a d J -inle. have I wis-jin sence—the honor and the law. And s it was only by the cumulative evidence of years that he had finally come to understand. Being an alien, when iie di i know he knew it better than the white man himself ; being an Indian, he ! had achieved the impossible. And of these things had been bred i a certain contempt for his own people —a contempt which he had made it a custom to conceal, but which now hurst forth in a polyglot whirlwind of curses upon the heads of Kah-Chuete and J Gowhee. They cringed before him like j a brace of snarling wolf dogs, too cow- i ardi.v to spring, too wolfish to cover ; ! their fangs. They were not handsome j creatures. Neither was Sitka Charley All three were frightful looking. There was no flesh to their faces; their cheek bones were massed with hideous scabs which had cracked and frozen alter nately under the intense frost; while their eyes burned luridly with the light which is horn of desperation and hun ger. Men so situated, beyond the pale of the honor and the law, are not to be trusted. Sitka Charley knew this ; and this was why tie had forced them to abandon their rifles with the rest of the camp outfit ten days be töre. His rifle and Captain Epping well's were the only ones that re mained. f* "Come, get a fire started," he com I manded, drawing out the precious match box with its attendant strips of dry birch bark. The two Indians fell sullenly to the task of gathering dead branches and underwood. They were weak, and paused often, catching themselves, in the act of stooping, with giddy motions, or staggering to the center of opera tions with their knees shaking like castanets. After each trip they rested for a moment, as though sick and dead ly weary. At times their eyes took on the patient stoicism of dumb suffer ing; and again the ego seemed almost bursting forth with its wild try, "I, I, want to exist!"—the dominant note of the whole living universe. A light breath of air blew from the south, nipping the exposed portions of tieir bodies and driving the frost, in 1 mum rt ' f L They Cringed 3:fore Him. J needles of fire, through fur and tlesh to the hones. So, when the tire had I grown lusty and thawed a damp circle the snow about it. Sitka Charley forced his reluctant comrades to lend a hand in pitching a tly. It was a prim itive affair, merely a blanket, stretched parallel with the fire and to windward of it, at an angle of perhaps forty-five degrees. This shut out the chili wind, and threw the heat backward and down upon those who were to huddle in its shelter. Then . layer of green spruce houghs was spread, that their bodies might not come in contact with the snow. When this task was com pleted, Kah-Chuete and Gowhee pro ceeded to take care of their feet. Their ire-bound moccasins were sadly worn by much travel, and the sharp ice of s the river jams had cut them to rags. ! i J j i ; Their Siwash socks were similarly conditioned, and when these had been thawed and removed, the dead-white tips of the toes, in the various stages of mortification, told their simple tale of the trail. Leaving the two to the drying of their footgear, .Sitka Charley turned back over the course he had come, lie, too, had a mighty longing to sit by (lie lire and tend ids complaining tlesh, ! «ut the lmum* and the law forbade. Lie toiled painfully over the frozen field, each step a protest, every mus cle in revolt. Several times, v.here the j open water between the jams had re cently crusted, he was forced to miser ably accelerate his movements as the fragile footing swayed and threatened beneath him. In such places death was quick and easy ; but it was not his desire to endure more. His deepening anxiety vanished as two Indiuns dragged into view round a bend in the river. They staggered and panted like men under heavy bur dens ; yet the packs on their backs were a matter of but few pounds. He questioned them eagerly, and their re plies seemed to relieve him. He hur ried on. Next came two white men, supporting between them a woman. They also behaved ns though drunken, and their limbs shook with weakness. But the woman leaned lightly upon them, choosing to carry herself for ward with her own strength. At sight of her, a flash of joy cast its fleeting light across Sitka Charley's face. He cherished a very great regard for Mrs. Eppingwell. He had seen many white women, hut this was the first to travel the trail with him. When Captain Ep pingwell proposed the hazardous un dertaking and made him an offer for his services, he had shaken his head gravely; for it was an unknown jour ney through the dismal vastuosses of the Northland, and he knew it to be of the kind that try to the uttermost the souls of men. But when he learn ed that the captain's wife was to ac company them, he had refused flatly to have anything further to do with it. Had it been a woman of his own ! j j i ! : • I ! j I ! j race lie would have harbored no objec tions ; but these women of the North land—no, no, they were too soft, too i tender for Mich enterprisi s. Sitk i Charley did not km .V tl iis tint! of Wi nan. Five minutes bef he did no t even dream of ta' vi n cil U'ge of the expo. ition ; hut uhe n >1 a tin* to bin with her wonderfu SI! ilc and her sti aigln clean English, am la lied to tile point without pieai ( Ji_r or 1"T suudili he had inciiniiüi'i. t ly viel led. Had it lore li ecu a softness and appeal tu nier ay in the eyes, a tre nid» t ' » the voice, a taking advantage of St x In* would hnv«* stiffened to st« >e! ; ins end her e! »ar-st* «rolling eyes and cl eur voice *. her utter fr: nkn *ss aml tacit a ssumption of cqualii y. h ad rob bed him of his reason. He felt, then, that this was a new breed of woman; and ere they had been I rail mates for many days, he knew why the sons of Mich women mastered the land and sea, and why the sons of his own wom ankind could not prevail against them. Tender and soft! Day after day he watched her, muscle-weary, exhausted, indomitable, and the words beat in up on him in a perennial refrain. Tender and soft ! He knew her feer had been born to easy paths and sunny lands, strangers to the moeeasined pain of the North, unkissed by the chill lips of the frost, and he watched and marveled at them twinkling ever through the weary day. She had always a smile and a word of cheer, from which not even the meanest packer was excluded. As the way grew darker she seemed to stiffen and gather greater strength, and when Kah-C'hucte and Gowhee, who had bragged that they knew every land mark of the way as a child did the skin hales of the tepee, acknowledged that they knew not where they were, ii was ! she who raised a forgiving voice amid j the curses of the men. Sic* had sung j to them that night, till they felt the i weariness fall from them arid were ! ready to face the future with fresh hope. And when the food faih d and : each scant stint was measured je.tlous • ly. she it was who rebelled against I tlie machinations of lier husband and ! Sitka Charley, and demanded and re j reived a share neither greater nor I less than that of the others. Sitka Charley was proud to know ! ti.is woman. A new richness, greater j breadth, had come into his life with lier presence. Hitherto he hud been his own mentor, had turned to right or left at no man's beck ; he had mould ed himself according to his own dic tates, nourished his manhood regard less of all save his own opinion. For the first time he had felt a call from without for the best that was in him. Just a glance of appreciation from the clear-searching eyes, a word of thanks from the clear-ringing voice, just a slight wreathing of the lips in the wonderful smile, and he walked \yith the gods for hours to come. It ! was a new stimulant to his manhood; j for the first time he thrilled with a i conscious pride in his wisdom of the ( trail; and between the twain they ever lifted the sinking hearts of their com rades. The faces of the two men and the woman brightened as they saw him. for after all he was the staff they lean ed upon. But Sitka Charley, rigid as was his wont, concealing pain and pleasure impartially beneath an iron exterior, asked them the welfare of the rest, told the distance to the fire, and continued on the hack trip. Next he met a single Indian, unburdened, limping, lips compressed, and eyes set with the pain of a foot in which the quick fought a losing battle with the dead. All possible care had been ta ken of him, but in the last extremity the weak and unfortunate must per ish, and Sitka Charley deemed his (lays to be few. The man could nut keep up for long, so lie gave him rough cheering words. After that came two more Indians, to whom lie had allotted the task of helping along Joe, the third white man of the party. They had de serted him. Sitka Charley saw at a glance the lurking spring in their bod ies, and knew they had at Iasi cast off his mastery. So he was no! taken un awares when he ordered them hack in quest of their abandoned charge, and saw the gleam of the hunting knives that they drew from the sheaths. A pitiful spectacle, three weak men lift ing their puny strength in the face of the mighty vastness; but the two re coiled under the fierce ritle blows of the one, and returned like beaten dogs to the leash. Two hours later, with Joe reeling between them and Sitka Charley bringing up the rear, they came to the fire, where the remainder of the expedition crouched in the shel ter of the fly. "A few words, my comrades, before we sleep," Sitka Charley said, after they had devoured their slim rations of unleavened bread. He was speaking to the Indians, in their own tongue, having already given the import to the whites. "A few words, my com rades, for your own good, that ye may yet perchance live. I shall give you the law; on his own head be the death of him that breaks it. We have pass ed the Hills of Silence, and we now travel the head reaches of the Stuart. It may he one sleep, it may he several, j it may be many sleeps, hut in time we, shall come among the men of the Yu- i kon, who have much grub. It were ! well that we look to the law. Today, j Kah-Chuete and Gowhee, whom I com manded to break trail, forgot they were men. and like frightened children ran j away. True, they forgot ; so let us for get. * But hereafter let them remember. If it should happen they do not."— He j touched his rifle carelessly, grimly. -Tomorrow they shall carry the flour and see that the white man Joe lie-; not down by the trail. Th<* cupfuls of flour are counted ; should so much us an ounce he wanting at nightfall Do ye understand? Today there were ] J j I j j ; ! j ( • j | I j I ; ; ; j I others that forgot. Moose-Head and I Three-Salmon left the white man Joe i to lie in the snow. Let them forget no more. With the light of d «y shall limy go fi rth and hr ak trail. Ye In t VC heard th * law. 1 ook well. lest break it." Sitka < ' barley f >UI d it hey on ! hin io keep the line eie <e up. 1 Yum Me. Se Head am Three y a inioD, v. h< hr. iko trail in a ivance, to k:i i-Chucte, G. >w bee, and Joe, it Mr igu ed out dVe I a mile. Ea •ii stator *d, fell, UI re-1 . w 1 as he saw fit. Th * lim» >f mart h \V a s a progression thron Ldi a c bain el irre 4'iI iar halts. Each dr nv upon lie i lSt remnant of his strengtl and > ttimli led • »award \ .11 it w cXJ ended. but in some mil aculous \v ay there was a! ways another last remuant. Fach time a man feil, it was with the firm belief that lie would rise no more; yet in* did rise, and again, and again. The flesh yielded, the teil! conquered ; hut each triumph was a tragedy. The In dian with the frozen foot, no longer erect, crawled forward on hand and ] knee. He rarely rested, for he knew J the penalty exacted by the frost. Even j Mrs. Eppingwell's lips were at last set : I in a stony smile, and In r eyes, seeing, j .-aw not. Often, she stopped, pressing j .1 miftened hand to her heart, gasping ; and dizzy. Joe, the white man, had passed be ! vond the stage of suffering. He no j longer begged to he lot alone, prayed ( to die ; hut was soothed and content • under the anodyne of delirium. Kali j Chuote and Gowchee dragged him on roughly, venting upon him many a sav | age glance or blow. To them it was I the acme of injustice. Their hearis • j were Hitter with hate, heavy with fear. I Why should they cumber their ; strength with his weakness? To do ; so, m-nnt (hath; not to do so—ami t h* -y rememt"T-d the law of Sitka Charley, and the rifle. Joe feil with greater frequency as tlie daylight weaned, and so hard was he to raise that they dropped farther and farther behind. Sometimes all ; three pitched into tie* snow, so weak' had tile Indians la.....me. Yet on their backs was life, and strength, and j warmth. Within the flour sacks wore j all tin* potentialities of existence. They j j could not lint think of this, and it was ; n cm & m ^ -f ,X Could Not Keep Up for Long. not strange, that which came to pass. They had fallen by the side of a great timber jam where a thousand cords of firewood waited the match. Near by was an air hole through the ice. Kah Chuete looked on the wood and the wa ter, as did Gowhee; then they looked on each other. Never a word was spoken. Gowhee struck a fire; Kah Cliute filled a tin cup with water and heated it; Joe babbled of things in an other land, in a tongue they did nut understand. They mixed flour with the warm water till it was a thin paste, and of this they drank many cupfuls. They did not offer any to Joe; but he did not mind, no did not mind any thing. not even iiis moccasins, which scorched and smoked among the coals. A crystal mist of snow fell about them, softly, caressingly, wrapping them in clinging robes of white. And their feet would have yet trod many trails had not destiny brushed the clouds aside and cleared the air. Nay, ten minutes' delay would have been salvation. Sitka Charley, looking hack, saw the pillared smoke of their fire, ami guessed. And he looked ahead ;1 : those who wore faithful, and at Mr.-. Eppingwell. "Sn mv good comrades, ye have again i ! j ' j | j ! ; ! | ; ; S . : • j j j ' - \ f V Smiled Vivaciously at the Wisdom of the Trail. ; forgotten that yon were men? Good. Very good. There will he lower bellies to feed." Sitka Charley retied the flour as lie j spoke, strapping the pile!: to the one j on Ins own hack. He kicked Joe till the pain broke through the poor devil's j bliss and brought him doddering to his ! feet. Then lie showed him out upon the trail and started him on his way. \ The two Indians attempted to slip off. "Hold. Gowhee! And thou, too, lvah-j Chuete! Hath the flour given such) strength to thy legs that they may out run the swift-winged lead? Think not to cheat the law. Be men for the last , time, and he content, that ye die full stomached. Come, step up, back to j the timber, shoulder to shoulder, j Come !" j The two men obeyed, quietly, with- ; out fear; for it is the future which presses upon the man, not the present. "Thou, Gowhee, hast a wife and chil dren and a deer-skin lodge in the Chippewynn. What is thy will in the matter?" "Give thou her of the goods which are mine by the word of the captain— the blankets, the beads, the tobacco, MAKE APPEAL TO APPETITE | Food Materials Which Are of Little Real Value Have Distinct Place on Table. Not all food materials are said to be valuable*in proportion to the appeal which they make to the appetite. For example, the flavor substances in foods which stimulate the olfactory and gus tatory nerves, and thus give rise to appetite, are not ordinarily the sub stances mi which the body depends for its fuel, nor for the great hulk of its building materials. The latter mate rials—proteins, fats or oils and car bohydrates—when chemically pure, have little or no taste or smell. The preference for thin and crisp rather than greasy bacon is given as an il lustration. In a recent experiment it was found that of the 129 calories which repre sent the fuel value of a very thin 20 gni. (three-fourths ounce) slice, only nine calories remained when the i slice was sent to the table, 120 calo ries being represented by the fat which ! »fried out" into the pan. In this ease a considerable amount of flavor body j also goes into the fat, y>*f most persons ' would not consider eating it unicss It j has been skillfully blended with large | quantities of other foods; whereas the j scrap of skeleton tissue which has lost ! 93 per cent of its food value Is regard ed as a dainty morsel. Be a "Live Wire." To Increase your earning capacity, you must he an energetic, live speci men of humankind. You should hi* throbbing with surplus power. You ; should possess a degree of strength that will give you confidence and cour age and endurance. Then you can go on day after day adding to your skill and knowledge and power In your pro ! fession. And when you have climbed to the highest point on one sphere of endeavor, you will he ready to look around for other work, and continue to experience the delights that conn* | only with the daily struggle, required ; for the attainment of the objects one has in view. Do not forget tin* valu* ; uf systematic effort. Do not waste S your energies. Intelligent direction is all-important. Force, to he of value, must he aeplied at th- proper place. Effort, to he productive of reward, must he uirect d by superior iuteiii . ti'-e.—Exchange j j j ! \ , j j j ; the box which makes strange sounds after the manner of the white man. Say that I did die on the trail, hut say nut how." "And thou. Kah-Chuete. who hast no wife nor child?" -.Mim* is a sister, the wife of tilt Factor at Koshltn. He beats her. ant Mu* is not happy. Give thou her Hie goods which are mine by the contract and tell her il were well she go back t own people. Shouldst thou mee* tin* man. and he so minded. It were a good deed that lie should die. Ht heats her, and she is afraid." "Are ye content to die by the law?' "We are." "Then good-by. my good comrades. May ye sit by the well-filled pot, it warm lodges, ere the (lay is done." As he spoke, he raised his rifle, ant many echoes broke the silence. Hard ly had they died away, when othei rifles spoke in the distance. Sitka Charley started. There had been mort than one shot, yet there was but ont other rifle in the party. He gave » fleeting glance at the men who lay st quietly, smiled viciously at the wisdorr of the trail, and hurried on to meet the men of the Yukon. QUEER BELIEFS ABOUT MOON Superstitions Handed Down From Past Ages Have Not by Any Means Died Out. The Idea that the moon powerfully Influences not merely the weather and the growth of crops hut the ftme liniis uf the human body and oven the carei rs of men and women was al most a part of the religion of the an ei"iit Egyptians. Jews, Greeks and Unmans. The same idea runs through English literature, and the very words ••lunatic" and "lucid" are derived from it. i lie works of Shakespeare, Spen ce" Beaumont. Fletcher, Ben .Tonson, and even such modern authors as By ron. Scott and Shelley, are full of it. It does not appear in Edgar Al lan I'oo, yet one has hut to read "Ulalume" to find a striking illustra tion. Among semicivilized peoples these ideas about the moon are still almost universal. In our own country and others In which civilization is'at its highest, one needs hut glance over a farmers' almanac to find how much faith is placed in these exploded Ideas by persons with even a fair amount of education. Though different peoples have dif ferent traditions, it seems that for the most part the full moon 's regarded as he most auspicious phase, the moon being propitious In proportion as its luminous face is on the Increase' and unpropitious when it l a 0Q the ,, créas,*, the worst phase of a u being at the dark of the moon. He Was No Poet. " lou have a pretty good business even in December." "Yes" s„hi the proprietor of the ocean hotel. "They hear the sea a-calhng I pre sume. 1 * ,rt "I dunno about that. We ko SPn( , mg out booklets right along."-, ville Courier-Journal. b 1 ou "SÄS* ..... "Dictionary matters 0 t w th ..,r rknil „ u ,V,;jr rc flow so?" "*• ""ait until geezer. g-,,v n n ,i - , n'o Hm language"_, E'Afc Ret M v-Journal. k Loul ^ille Cou-