Frontiersman

A. Cody H.

Description

Anglican minister Hiram Alfred Cody found a lucrative sideline writing action-adventure novels set in the Canadian Yukon. In The Frontiersman, Cody describes the moral depravity brought about by the gold rush in the territory through the eyes of an earnest young minister sent to the region as a missionary.

Sujets

• Westerns
• Western (genre)
• Western

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 décembre 2015
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776595518
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE FRONTIERSMAN
A TALE OF THE YUKON
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H. A. CODY
 
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The Frontiersman A Tale of the Yukon First published in 1910 Epub ISBN 978-1-77659-551-8 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77659-552-5 © 2014 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Chapter I - Night in the Wilderness Chapter II - Abandoned Chapter III - The Grave in the Snow Chapter IV - "Where is My Flock?" Chapter V - "For My Mother's Sake" Chapter VI - A Trick of Cowards Chapter VII - God's Gentlemen Chapter VIII - A Surprise Chapter IX - The Night Watch Chapter X - Constance Makes a Discovery Chapter XI - The Shot in the Night Chapter XII - The Uplift Chapter XIII - Pritchen Gets Busy Chapter XIV - The Unexpected Happens Chapter XV - The Summons Chapter XVI - The Miners' Meeting Chapter XVII - The Search Chapter XVIII - Yukon Jennie Chapter XIX - Caribou Sol Chapter XX - The Old Chief's Messenger Chapter XXI - Constance's Venture Chapter XXII - Old Pete Chapter XXIII - The Rumbling of the Storm Chapter XXIV - The Council Chapter XXV - The Light of the Cross Chapter XXVI - Guarded Chapter XXVII - Guided Chapter XXVIII - The Shadowed Glen Chapter XXIX - The Shining Trail Chapter XXX - The Consecration Endnotes
Chapter I - Night in the Wilderness
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Creek, swish! Creek, swish! hour after hour sounded forth the yieldingsnowshoes as Keith Steadman, hardy northman and trailsman, stroderapidly forward. For days he had listened to their monotonous music,as he wound his devious way over valleys, plains, and mountain passes,down toward the mighty Yukon River, pulsing on to the sea through thegreat white silence.
There was snow everywhere. Snow on the river, sparkling like a milliondiamonds; snow on the lakes, lying smooth and white. Snow on thetrees, hanging in beautiful, fairy-like clusters; snow on thesun-kissed mountains, fleecy, golden, drifting. Snow, frosty, hard,surrounding the traveller, pouring into his lungs at every breath,clinging to his eyebrows, whitening his unkempt beard, and decoratingthe furry fringes of his loose parka.
"Cold night," he muttered to himself, as he paused to readjust the ropeof the small sled he was drawing, to the right shoulder.
Then he glanced back over the trail, and a dark object arrested hisattention, drawing nearer and nearer.
"A wolf! and on my track, too! I expected as much in this desolatespot," and the traveller unslung the small rifle from his back andstood ready for action.
For some time the animal did not look up, but kept its nose close tothe ground, and trotted steadily on. Then it lifted its head, sloweddown to a walk, and at length stopped.
"I don't like that brute on my track at this time of the day," thoughtKeith. "Perhaps a leaden message may give it a hint to travelelsewhere."
He raised his rifle to his shoulder and took aim. Then he lowered it,moved by some sudden impulse. "Why, I believe it's a dog, not a wolfat all," and he gave a sharp whistle to the watching animal.
The dog, for so it was, pricked up its ears, moved forward, andstopped; but no coaxing on the traveller's part could induce it toadvance any further. After trying in vain for some time to makefriends with the cur, Keith resumed his weary walk.
The short winter day was drawing to a close, and the sun had dippedbehind a tall, hoary peak. The shadows stealing over the land warnedhim that night was shutting down, and camping time was near.
Ahead lay a clump of thick fir trees, which promised shelter and anabundance of wood. Toward this he moved, the dog following somedistance behind. Reaching the place, it did not take him long to clearaway the snow from a suitable spot, using one of his narrow snow-shoesas a shovel. This done, he built a fire from the dead trees standingclose by, and prepared a generous supply of fuel to last during thecold night. With much skill, acquired through long practice, he soonfashioned a cosy little nest on one side of the fire, from therichly-scented fir boughs. To make the shelter more complete, heerected in the background a brush barricade in the form of asemi-circle, a few feet high. In front of this he spread a wolf-skinrobe.
"A palace fit for a king," he remarked, half aloud, as he glancedaround upon his handiwork. "Now for supper."
A little bacon, a few beans, a taste of sourdough bread, with someblack tea for a relish, formed the humble repast.
In the meantime the dog had crept close, attracted by the warm, brightfire, and stood looking wistfully upon the bacon lying before him.
"Hungry, old boy, eh?" asked Keith. "You look as if you had eatennothing for a month. Well, then, here's a piece of bacon and bread.To-morrow I'll try to snip a rabbit for you."
The ravenous beast seized eagerly the precious morsels, devoured themwith a gulp or two, and looked longingly for more.
"Can't do it, doggie," said Keith, noticing the animal's beseechingeyes, "I've only a little left, and a hard trail lies ahead."
Then something around the dog's neck arrested his attention. It was asmall object fastened to a rude collar. What could it be?
"Come here, laddie," he called, "and let me see what you've got there."
The cur, however, kept at a safe distance, but showed a degree offriendliness by short jerks of his tail.
"Perhaps a piece of bacon will bring him," and Keith held a portiontemptingly before his view.
The dog pricked up his ears, advanced, drew back, and looked around.Then, squatting down upon his haunches, he lifted his nose into the airand gave vent to a most doleful howl.
"Come on, old boy," encouraged Keith, still holding the bacon betweenhis fingers.
Little by little the dog approached, and with much coaxing was inducedto draw near, and after a time nestled by the man's side, where hequickly devoured the coveted morsel of food.
"Now, let's see what you've got here," and Keith examined the objectattached to the collar.
It was a piece of brown paper, old and soiled, and evidently it hadseen hard usage. It was carefully folded, and tied with twine made upof several short pieces. With the point of his hunting knife, Keithcut the string, and when he had opened the paper he beheld a number ofwords, scrawled with some red material, which looked much like blood.By the flickering camp fire he managed with difficulty to decipher thefollowing startling message:
"For God's sake, help. I'm dying."
That was all, and for some time Keith held the paper in his hand andgazed steadily into the fire.
"Strange," he mused. "Where could the animal have come from? I didnot know there was a white man near. But it must be some poor wretchwho has been stranded in this desolate region. Let me see. That dogcould not have travelled far in his present miserable condition. Ibelieve I could track him, and perhaps find his master either dead oralive. But then that would mean great delay, and I hoped with hardtravelling to reach Klassan by to-morrow night. Besides, there is notmuch food left, only a little bacon, bread, and a few beans. Oh, well,I'll sleep on it, and in the morning perhaps I may see more clearly."
The fire roared cheerfully, seizing with avidity upon the dry firsticks. The sparks shot up into the darkness, whirling, twisting, anddancing, like so many happy fairies. The tall trees stood out in boldrelief, sombre and silent. "Yes," he mused, "I believe it's a warning,and I must no longer hesitate. That poor fellow needs help, and nodoubt this dog was guided by some good angel. I must go as soon as theday breaks, and leave the matter of food to the Father's care."
With the fire well replenished, and the loaded rifle close at hand,Keith rolled himself up in his wolf-skin robe and was soon fast asleep.
It seemed that he had lain but a short time, when he was aroused by aweight pressing against his body, accompanied by a startling noise.Half dazed, he lifted himself to a sitting posture and looked around.The fire was almost out and the charred sticks were emitting but afeeble glow. The weight against his body was caused by the dog,huddling near as possible and growling in the most ferocious manner.It did not take long to understand the creature's terror, for a soundfell upon his ears which caused his heart to beat fast and a cold chillto pass through his body. Out of the darkness came the long-drawnhowls, which he easily recognized. They were wolves, drawing nearerand nearer, how many he could not tell. Quickly throwing a few freshsticks on the smouldering embers, he seized his rifle, examined itcarefully, and looked to the keen knife in his belt.
"Never mind," he remarked to the crouching form at his feet. "We'llgive them a warm reception, at any rate."
"O-o-o-ow. O-o-o-ow," came those awful sounds, at any time terrible tohear, but at night in the lonely wild, how appalling!
Keith strained his eyes through the darkness in an effort to catch aglimpse of the enemy. That they were bearing down upon him there wasno doubt. But look as he might nothing was to be observed except thetrees standing silently around. Presently the howlings ceased, and allwas still. What did this signify? That the wolves had gone on someother scent? Ah, no. Keith was too well accustomed to the ways ofthese creatures to believe such a thing. He knew that the stillnesswas but a prelude to the storm; that the animals were stalking theirprey; that gleaming eyes were watching his slightest movement, and thatkeen white fangs were bared, ready to tear him to pieces.
Not for an