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made a thousand and forty times since taking the mail contract。 He did
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not drive to Kelterville； but turned off on the main road south to Santa
Rosa。 Even more remarkable than this was the paper…wrapped parcel
between his feet。 It contained his one decent black suit； which Mary had
been long reluctant to see him wear any more； not because it was shabby；
but because； as he guessed what was at the back of her mind； it was decent
enough to bury him in。
And at Santa Rosa； in a second…hand clothes shop； he sold the suit
outright for two dollars and a half。 From the same obliging shopman he
received four dollars for the wedding ring of his long… dead wife。 The
span of horses and the wagon he disposed of for seventy…five dollars；
although twenty…five was all he received down in cash。 Chancing to
meet Alton Granger on the street； to whom never before had he mentioned
the ten dollars loaned him in '74； he reminded Alton Granger of the little
affair； and was promptly paid。 Also； of all unbelievable men to be in funds；
he so found the town drunkard for whom he had bought many a drink in
the old and palmy days。 And from him John Tarwater borrowed a dollar。
Finally； he took the afternoon train to San Francisco。
A dozen days later； carrying a half…empty canvas sack of blankets and
old clothes； he landed on the beach of Dyea in the thick of the great
Klondike Rush。 The beach was screaming bedlam。 Ten thousand tons
of outfit lay heaped and scattered； and twice ten thousand men struggled
with it and clamoured about it。 Freight； by Indian…back； over Chilcoot to
Lake Linderman； had jumped from sixteen to thirty cents a pound； which
latter was a rate of six hundred dollars a ton。 And the sub…arctic winter
gloomed near at hand。 All knew it； and all knew that of the twenty
thousand of them very few would get across the passes； leaving the rest to
winter and wait for the late spring thaw。
Such the beach old John Tarwater stepped upon； and straight across
the beach and up the trail toward Chilcoot he headed； cackling his ancient
chant； a very Grandfather Argus himself； with no outfit worry in the world；
for he did not possess any outfit。 That night he slept on the flats； five
miles above Dyea； at the head of canoe navigation。 Here the Dyea River
became a rushing mountain torrent； plunging out of a dark canyon from
the glaciers that fed it far above。
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And here； early next morning； he beheld a little man weighing no more
than a hundred； staggering along a foot…log under all of a hundred pounds
of flour strapped on his back。 Also； he beheld the little man stumble off
the log and fall face…downward in a quiet eddy where the water was two
feet deep and proceed quietly to drown。 It was no desire of his to take
death so easily； but the flour on his back weighed as much as he and would
not let him up。
〃Thank you； old man；〃 he said to Tarwater； when the latter had
dragged him up into the air and ashore。
While he unlaced his shoes and ran the water out； they had further talk。
Next； he fished out a ten…dollar gold…piece and offered it to his rescuer。
Old Tarwater shook his head and shivered； for the ice…water had wet
him to his knees。
〃But I reckon I wouldn't object to settin' down to a friendly meal with
you。〃
〃Ain't had breakfast？〃 the little man； who was past forty and who had
said his name was Anson； queried with a glance frankly curious。
〃Nary bite；〃 John Tarwater answered。
〃Where's your outfit？ Ahead？〃
〃Nary outfit。〃 〃Expect to buy your grub on the Inside？〃
〃Nary a dollar to buy it with； friend。 Which ain't so important as a
warm bite of breakfast right now。〃
In Anson's camp； a quarter of a mile on； Tarwater found a slender； red…
whiskered young man of thirty cursing over a fire of wet willow wood。
Introduced as Charles； he transferred his scowl and wrath to Tarwater； who；
genially oblivious； devoted himself to the fire； took advantage of the chill
morning breeze to create a draught which the other had left stupidly
blocked by stones； and soon developed less smoke and more flame。 The
third member of the party； Bill Wilson； or Big Bill as they called him；
came in with a hundred…and…forty…pound pack； and what Tarwater
esteemed to be a very rotten breakfast was dished out by Charles。 The
mush was half cooked and mostly burnt； the bacon was charred carbon；
and the coffee was unspeakable。
Immediately the meal was wolfed down the three partners took their
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empty pack…straps and headed down trail to where the remainder of their
outfit lay at the last camp a mile away。 And old Tarwater became busy。
He washed the dishes； foraged dry wood； mended a broken pack…strap； put
an edge on the butcher…knife and camp…axe； and repacked the picks and
shovels into a more carryable parcel。
What had impressed him during the brief breakfast was the sort of awe
in which Anson and Big Bill stood of Charles。 Once； during the morning；
while Anson took a breathing spell after bringing in another hundred…
pound pack； Tarwater delicately hinted his impression。
〃You see； it's this way；〃 Anson said。 〃We've divided our leadership。
We've got specialities。 Now I'm a carpenter。 When we get to Lake
Linderman； and the trees are chopped and whipsawed into planks； I'll boss
the building of the boat。 Big Bill is a logger and miner。 So he'll boss
getting out the logs and all mining operations。 Most of our outfit's ahead。
We went broke paying the Indians to pack that much of it to the top of
Chilcoot。 Our last partner is up there with it； moving it along by himself
down the other side。 His name's Liverpool； and he's a sailor。 So； when
the boat's built； he's the boss of the outfit to navigate the lakes and rapids
to Klondike。
〃And Charles … this Mr。 Crayt