Why Midas Failed

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Title:     Why Midas Failed
Author: May Kellogg Sullivan [More Titles by Sullivan]

It was in the Fall of the year 19-- that a party of miners outfitted in Nome and started for the Arctic. One of them had been in that vicinity before, was familiar with the trails, and had some acquaintance with the natives of that section.

Like all real "sourdough" miners they knew how to speak a good many words in Eskimo, especially young Gibbs, who had wintered there.

Not only did it please the natives to have the white men use the Eskimo language because it showed friendliness, but it made bargaining easier for all.

It was not, however, for the purpose of trading that this party of five men were making a long, cold and tedious trip to the Selawik River.

They were looking for gold. It was late in November when the creeks and rivers were frozen, and the swamps and tundra could be everywhere crossed; and as the weather was not so severe as it would be later, and the snow was not so deep it was considered the best time of the year for starting the expedition.

There were three dog-teams and as many heavy sleds, packed tightly with all manner of necessary equipments--fur sleeping bags, tents, clothing of skins, and food supplies in the smallest possible compass, besides frozen tomcod for the malamutes.

To be sure, reindeer would have been more expeditious, and would have hunted their own provender, thus lightening the loads on the sleds, as well as making a delicious food for the men in case of a shortage of provisions; but there were none of these animals at Nome and the dogs were substituted.

It was a long journey. The prospect was one of great hardship and even suffering to those not accustomed to a miner's life; but to these hardy men of Alaska, inured as they had been to the cold of this northland, it was a real pleasure trip which was looked forward to with keenest interest.

The direction they wished to take was due northeast from Nome to the Selawik River; and at that place their plans would be further perfected. Their object was to find virgin gold--placer gold--to discover it in such quantities that all might become rich; and incidentally, after their own wants had been supplied, those of the gentlemen whose money had outfitted them would be considered--perhaps.

They were already on the trail, at any rate, with all they needed upon their sleds and in their pockets; the gentlemen in question were far away--too far to interfere with their movements; in fact, had gone to London for the season and could not return for many months.

This was their opportunity. They proposed to use it for their own advantage unless prevented by some unforeseen calamity which should end their lives; at least, this was the way two of the miners expressed themselves in the little roadhouse at Keewalik after many days of hard travel from Nome.

Drinks and tobacco were passed over the counter. Goodbye greetings were being exchanged.

"Hope you'll strike it rich and let us in on the ground floor, Dunbar," called out one of the loafers to the oldest man of the party about to leave.

"Thanks, awfully; I'll remember," replied the man addressed, laughing, but without promising. "So long!"

"So long," called out the bartender in reply. Then to those in the room: "Them fellers are hittin' the trail in good shape with all they need for six weeks, but when that's gone they'll have ter come to us to fill up again. There aint no other place this side of Nome to buy a hunk of terbac that I knows of, eh, Curley?"

"Nope, nor drinks, nor grub neither, by Jove!" removing the smutty cob pipe from between his teeth in order to smile widely as was habitual with Curley.

"I wish 'em much joy with that Selawik gang," said the man behind the bar.

"Well, there's a few whites there, and then there's ole Kuikutuk and his brood, besides a dozen other natives. Does the ole shaman's squaw still live in his igloo?"

"Oh, yes, I guess so. She did the last I heerd," answered the other.

"Ole Kuik better look sharp when Gibbs gits there, for I have heerd that the young fool was awful sweet on his pretty woman last year," and wide smiling Curly pulled his parkie hood over his head preparatory to leaving the roadhouse, after delivering himself of this piece of gossip.

"Them chaps is swelled up now all right enough, but just wait a bit. They may come back with their feathers picked, for the job they've struck aint a summer picnic, and that's no josh, either."

In this manner were the departed miners and their actions commented upon; not in the most complimentary way, to be sure, as is the custom with many when those around them seem prosperous.

In the meantime the prospectors pushed on. Lakes, rivers and mountains were crossed. In the latter the lowest passes and the most used trails were selected, but these were always rough and bewildering at best--a few blazoned spruces on the hills or hatchet-hacked willows near the creeks, a tin can placed upon a stake or a bit of rag flying from a twig; all these but poorly marked the paths which were seldom pressed by the foot of a human being. Weeks might elapse, or months even, when no soul passed that way. Perhaps the whir of a partridge's wing as he flew from one feeding ground to another on the tundra was the only sound disturbing the still air for hours; or when a red fox, made sprightly by hunger, left as few foot-prints on the snow as possible, by leaping with great bounds forward to the hills.

Buckland River and its tributaries were left behind. No gold of any account had as yet been found in their vicinity, and the miners hurried on. Time was precious, for food was disappearing and severe weather was approaching.

Finally, at the close of a short winter's day in December, the three dog-teams drew their sleds into the camp at Selawik. Flinging themselves upon the snow in their harness the patient brutes looked appealingly into their masters' faces. Then, as if by instinct they understood that here they would stop for some days, tense and tired muscles relaxed, each pointed furry head was laid between two weary little feet, and the malamutes rested. They had well earned the rest.

Here in the midst of a forest of small firs the boughs of which were still covered with snow as if it had just fallen, rose the chimneys of perhaps a half dozen log cabins and igloos, the latter appearing to be simply burrows from which smoke was slowly issuing; but being in reality the winter homes of the Selawik Indians or Eskimo.

The latter usually lived in filth and squalor, it being their habit to perform only the most necessary labor, and that, too, with the least amount of effort. The women were the workers, performing the major part of every duty.

In the igloo of the shaman, or medicine man, however, it was different. The old native had lost his first wife and married another and younger one, the pretty woman spoken of by wide-mouthed Curley in the Keewalik roadhouse some days before. She was a full blooded Eskimo, as was the shaman, but had enjoyed the advantages of travel, having visited in the Nome country; remaining for a time also in the mission house at Kotzebue.

Among the Selawiks she was accounted a beauty. Her cheeks were rosy though high-boned, her skin dark but clear, and her lips, not too full for symmetry, repeated the tint of her cheeks artistically. She was fond of weaving bright bits of color into the two long braids of black hair, and decorating in many different ways her fur parkies and mukluks. She was proud of keeping her house and person as tidy as possible, while her versatility allowed her the use of many English words and sentences.

It was not long after his arrival in camp the year before, that the young prospector and miner, Gibbs by name, began looking upon the wife of the old shaman, Kuiktuk, in a way that boded trouble for someone.

The old Eskimo was not slow to perceive it. It was not his custom to talk much, but he was often, though silent, an intensely interested observer of the white man who so often came to his igloo.

The shaman's wife flirted. Then the shaman sorrowed. Like a philosopher he bore his trouble for some months until the spring came, the snow and ice left the Selawik, the young white man's supplies were low, and he was finally seen poling his small boat down the river to the Kotzebue, apparently leaving forever.

Then Kuiktuk took courage, picked up the broken ends of his matrimonial cable, and putting them together as best he could, devoutly hoped he had seen the last of the youthful lover.

Now, after a year, he returned. Not only so, but he had brought others with him who might aggravate the situation; and the old Eskimo's heart was sore. Gibbs and his men had made for the shaman's igloo soon after their arrival in the camp. What would happen next?

He knew their object. They were searching for gold, guided by the man he hated but whom his wife loved. She and her former admirer were already renewing their acquaintance of the year before, to the sorrow and mortification of the shaman.

The men had brought trading tobacco, tea and coffee, with which to gain favor with the Eskimos while they talked of the unknown country about them, its possibilities and probabilities. Did the natives know of gold in this region? Had they seen the shining metal in any of the nearby creeks or rivers during the summer? Had there been reports from neighboring tribes of any such discoveries?

These and many like inquiries were made by the men, but were answered in the negative.

The shaman kept silent.

This was finally noticed by Gibbs, who immediately imagined that here was the only source from which the desired information could be gained.

Kuiktuk had intended it so.

In his corner of the igloo he had ruminated long and earnestly. Three days had the miners already spent in the camp of the Eskimos, and unless they were encouraged in their own way--that is, unless they were given the explanation they sought, they might remain here a month longer; which stay would doubtless bring greater disgrace to the shaman's household than ever; the sooner they were told where to find the gold the better for all concerned; when they would again take to the trail, and he would be left in the undisputed possession of his Selawik wife whom he loved.

"Cow-cow" and calico were kept in store for the natives (the white men said) who would point the way or guide them to a spot rich in the desired mineral; and who needed these things more than he and his family, reasoned Kuiktuk.

It was really no matter if the gold creeks were omitted altogether; he should by good rights have the cow-cow and calico. There were reindeer skins which had been secured the year before by Gibbs, but which he had forgotten to pay for; and lastly, there were damages which should be settled, for had not the young miner stolen his wife's affections and well nigh broken his heart?

Thus Kuiktuk continued to reason. He was not revengeful by nature; he could easily have slipped a deadly draught into the drinking cup of the man, but he had no wish to kill. He only thought to send Gibbs away about his business in order that his own peace of mind might be left undisturbed. To be sure, he might return to Selawik unless entirely put out of the way, but that risk would have to be borne.

Gold-bearing creeks and rivers were little thought of by the Eskimos. Their use for gold was small. Given an igloo, a boat, fishing and hunting tackle, and they were happy and satisfied; but the white man should be taught to let the wives of the Eskimos alone, and that, too, right early.

All this, and a great deal more, passed through the mind of the shaman.

On the evening of the third day after the arrival of the miners, while all sat smoking before the fire, Kuiktuk decided to act.

Taking his pipe from his mouth he pulled himself slowly together as if about to speak.

"Say, Kuiktuk, old man, what is it? Can you tell us where to find the yellow stuff we look for?" keenly inquired Dunbar.

The Eskimo slowly nodded.

"Is it far from here?"

A shake of the head in reply.

"How far? Where?" eagerly asked the men in a breath.

He pointed in a southeasterly direction.

"How many sleeps?" inquired Gibbs, meaning to ask how many days' journey it was.

Kuiktuk held up the fingers of one hand.

"He says its a five days' 'mush' from here," interpreted Gibbs.

"Will you go with us to the place?" from Dunbar.

"Me want cow-cow ameluktuk," mumbled the medicine man slowly.

"Yes, yes, you shall have the cow-cow," impatiently cried Dunbar, "but not until you show us the place."

"Me want cow-cow ameluktuk," again muttered the man, still slowly but more firmly.

"Oh, he wants the grub before we leave," said Gibbs.

"The devil he does!" cried another, who then tried to explain to Kuiktuk that he must produce the gold-bearing creek before he was given the food in payment.

The native was obstinate.

"Cow-cow peeluk, gold peeluk," indifferently, from the medicine man, going back to his pipe in the corner as if not caring for further conversation.

"He means no grub, no gold--or we must give him the supplies first, else we don't get the creek," again interpreted Gibbs.

"To the dogs with the fellow!" cried one.

"He wants the whole cheese."

"Let him keep his creek and be--blessed!"

"Forget it, boys, and come to the Kobuk with me," laughed one.

"Let's give him the calico and beads, but cut out the grub," finally from one of the most generous, while Kuiktuk sat stolidly smoking.

The latter would not compromise. The men hated to part with the supplies, but dreaded far worse to lose the prospect of that good creek said by the native to contain gold. It might prove another Anvil, who could tell? Possibly it was not so far away as the fellow said, Eskimos were never well up in time and distances, and knew nothing of prospectors' methods.

This was what Dunbar argued, and he, being the eldest of the party, was finally allowed his way, and that was to pay the shrewd trader his price, delivering to him the supplies agreed to on the next day before they started out upon their stampede to the creek.

"Then in case the old fellow has lied about the gold," said Gibbs, "we'll hang him to the nearest tree."

A consultation of miners, including Kuiktuk was held. Plans for the trip were laid, the route selected and all preparations completed. The shaman would lead the men up the Selawik Rive; to its head waters, as the trails on the ice, though poor, were level and much better than across the country, where mountain ranges intercepted. They would then head due south.

Only this much of his plan did the old Eskimo reveal. Secretly he wished to lead the men by ways they could not possibly traverse in returning. In doing the latter they would not wish to break a new trail unguided through an unexplored region of such magnitude, and by spring the ice would be leaving the Selawik.

As they had no boats it would be impossible for them to return as they had come. If they came to Selawik during the summer, he, and his family and friends would be away on their annual fishing excursion and their igloos would be deserted.

Thus the Shaman planned before the start was made for Midas.

The weather was not severe and signs were propitious for "mushing". The men were clothed in reindeer skins, with sleeping bags of the same material; their dogs were fresh, and they themselves were well fed and rested.

A hundred miles or more were as nothing to them as compared to the trip from Nome.

At last the head waters of the Selawik were reached under Kuiktuk's guidance. No white man had they seen. A few Eskimo huts were passed; game was more abundant, and as they came into heavily wooded country with guns and ammunition they supplied themselves with ptarmigan and other winter fowl of various kinds. Then they hoped to kill a caribou or reindeer which would furnish food for the malamutes as well as for themselves.

By this time three of the party hung back. With the Eskimo guide they numbered six. To penetrate still farther into an unknown wilderness at this season with an insufficient food supply would be foolhardy; it would be better for them to return to Nome by the shortest trail and again secure provisions.

This course was finally adopted.

Dunbar and Gibbs, accompanied by their guide, one day longer, were to push on as speedily as possible to the wonderful creek, while the others would return to Nome. Here they were to rest quietly until the two had made fast their stakes on Midas, and also returned to the city for supplies. In the meantime, the ones to reach the latter place first were to give out the news of the discovery of a magnificent new section, the center of which was a gold-bearing creek of amazing richness. Here was a chance to excite the credulity of the people of Nome, than whom there were none more willing and anxious to learn of new and rich gold discoveries; and the possibility occurred to the miners that money with which to prospect the new Midas might be collected from the citizens.

With this understanding the men parted; Kuiktuk remaining with Dunbar and Gibbs for another day, when, giving them full and explicit directions as to the route to the creek, as well as a complete description of the same, he started back to his own camp.

Again the two men pushed southward.

"We're up against it now, Dunbar," laughed Gibbs, "and its a question of who'll win out. If it hadn't been for the old rascal's appetite we would have made Kuiktuk come the entire way to Midas; but he lowered our grub so fast it was no use."

"No, but be sure you don't lose his rude map and directions to Midas in your notebook. Without them we would indeed be up against it, as you say," replied the older man, seriously, as they were making their way across the big "Divide" when the native had left them.

Snow was now beginning to fall in large flakes; a storm signal, and one they liked little. The temperature was falling. It was quite dark at three o'clock in the afternoon, and they were obliged to travel by snow-light. When camp was finally made, after halting for the night in a thicket of pine and spruce trees, the men were cold, tired and hungry.

Close under the branches of the pine trees they pitched their little tent for shelter. A big fire of logs and branches was kindled in front. The weary malamutes and their masters had eaten, and lay stretched upon the ground, the men in sleeping bags, thrown upon boughs from the thicket; the dogs upon the snow near the fire.

The latter was to be replenished during the night from the pile of sticks just gathered, and the animals would act as sentinels in case a wolf or bear happened to stray that way.

Oh, the loneliness of that winter's night; they were surrounded by a sheeted wilderness, how far from human habitation they did not know. No moon or stars gave light to cheer the wanderers, but instead, snow falling heavily and noiselessly over all. No winds stirred among the pines, causing them dead silence. The one solitary sound to be heard at intervals was the snapping in the fire of some pine knot, long since broken and dead upon the ground, or clipped from its parent stem by the axe of the prospector.

When the storm had cleared and the two miners were able to look about them sufficiently, they discovered the creek described by Kuiktuk.

It lay between high hills, locked in the icy grip of an Arctic winter. On the southern exposure of these hills grew fir, pine and spruce trees of no great size, but still invaluable to prospectors in this otherwise inhospitable region. Had it been in summer time one could have seen a narrow and sinuous creek flowing in a northeasterly direction, emptying itself into a much larger and more sinuous stream which trended easterly and united with the great Koyukuk.

There were but a few low-lying "benches" to be found. The hills were everywhere. They sprang from the earth like mushrooms in a moist garden. Their summits were rock-ribbed and sides boulder-strewn.

Worse than all else the rock was granite. No miner of experience in this country hoped to find gold in a granite section; it had never been known to accompany such a formation in Alaska, and these men well knew that they were check-mated.

There was no gold there.

They had been duped. When further investigation had confirmed the truth of their first fears the rage of these men knew no bounds. Gibbs, especially, raved like a madman, and swore dire vengeance on the native who had been the cause of their disappointment.

It was all clear to his mind now. The old man whom he had thought so docile and inoffensive as he sat in his igloo corner smoking his pipe, was in reality not what he appeared, but a being like other men, having the same sensibilities and passions. There was no doubt now that he had felt the greatest resentment to the young man's course in regard to his wife, and had quietly plotted against him with this result.

Dunbar was angered that he, an innocent man, should have been made the scapegoat for the shortcomings of his companion; declaring that in doing this Kuiktuk had overreached himself. If he had wanted to punish Gibbs he should not have selected the whole party of five to wreak his vengeance upon in this manner, not knowing when they left Selawik that three of their number would return so soon to Nome. The three latter were in reality as much dupes of the old native as they themselves, for had they not gone on to town to spread the news of the splendid gold discovery?

From this standpoint the matter was reasoned upon by the two men sitting before their camp fire, and ended as usual in an explosion of violent wrath on the part of the young miner.

"Oh, quit your cursing, Gibbs," at last exclaimed the older man, ill-naturedly, "and let's decide what can be done. I have a plan which I will unfold to you if you can stop swearing long enough to listen."

"What is it?" moodily asked Gibbs.

"Let the boys go on to Nome and tell as many big yarns as they like about this rich old creek. When we get there we'll go them one better and make the eyes of the Nomites stand out in wonderment. We will then collect money from as many persons as we can successfully hoodwink into believing our stories and then skip back to the Koyukuk. When the ice has left the rivers we can change our currency into gold dust at some trading post and quietly leave for the 'outside'. Afterwards, if we wish, we can carry this scheme a point farther and on the outside sell Midas ground to all who are easily gullible. See?"

As the man said this he leaned forward to get a closer view of his listener's face. What he saw encouraged him to proceed.

"What do you say, will you do it?'"

"It is the only honorable way out of the scrape, eh?" laughed the other.

"Honor be d----d!" exclaimed Dunbar. "Will you do this or not?"

"I will."

"Shake!"

The two men then shook hands, sealing a compact diabolical to the last degree, and without further hesitation started for Nome the next morning.

There was great excitement in Nome. Five miners had returned from the Koyukuk country and given out information of a gold "strike" of exceeding richness. Three of these men had arrived before the others, but all told the same story. A Selawik Eskimo, they said, had recently guided them to the creek where their own discoveries had confirmed his statement. Nothing so rich had they ever before seen. The creek gave promise of being one of the most famous placer gold diggings that had ever been found in Alaska; was in fact a veritable Golconda, and the returned prospectors dilated upon the interesting details of their story with evident enjoyment. They stated that the formation of the country was the very best for gold indications; that the creek was wide and shallow, the benches were broad, and the hills few in number but long and sweeping like the famous hills of Solomon and Anvil.

The two miners went further. While expatiating to their listeners upon the extent of the possible and probable contents of their new creek, each man exhibited with much gusto a medium-sized "poke" partly filled with coarse gold and nuggets which they had panned (they affirmed) from the gravel bed of the stream after cutting away the ice sufficiently; and with these and other plausible tales were the good people of Nome for weeks entertained.

To their three companions Dunbar and Gibbs gave no hint regarding their actual experiences at Midas.

The secret was safer with two than five; but five men could arouse greater interest and raise more funds for their schemes. For this reason the two leaders kept their own counsel, but urged the spreading of the false reports.

Money soon began to flow into their pockets. Everyone wished to have a hand in this wonderful "strike", and all were willing to pay for such interests. Not only did mining men go into their bank books, but clerks, stenographers, and small tradespeople passed out their hard-earned money. Women also felt reluctant to be left behind at a time of such wondrous opportunity, and plunged their hands into all sorts of nooks and crannies for their long hoarded but smaller denominations.

* * * * *

A few months and the scene was changed. Two miners poled their small boats down the Koyukuk River. Winter was gone, taking ice and snow with it. Instead of these, the waters of the great river, fed by melted snow and tributaries, surged on mightily, now whirling in swift rapids where huge boulders impeded their progress; or to lower levels where green islands caused a division of the floods allowing reunion later.

The men in the boat talked little. They managed to drift past the principal mining camps during the night in order not to be much seen. To be sure, there was no darkness at this time of the year, but the camps were not stirring much through the night; and in the event of a near approach to a trading post in daylight they rested a few hours among the willows on the river banks or upon some island in mid-stream. When they had slept and eaten before their camp fire their journey was resumed.

In the bow of the boat lay two sacks of very great weight. They were not large, but were made of strong, thick material, such as is used for tents. Great care was given these sacks by the two men. At every halt along the river they were carefully lifted out upon the ground above the reach of the water, and covered by some article of clothing or bedding.

The sacks contained gold.

The men had come from Nome to the Koyukuk, where at a small trading post they had changed a large amount of currency into gold dust and nuggets, mined from adjacent creeks. With this they were making their way south to the Yukon River where they intended to go quietly on board a steamer heading up stream, thus making their way to the Klondyke and later to the States.

Reaching the Yukon River, a small steamer was hailed; they boarded her and soon smoked contentedly on deck in the sunshine.

"Are you going on to 'Frisco' as you first thought of doing, Dunbar?" inquired Gibbs, for these were the two Midas Creek promotors.

"You bet I am, and you go, too, for you are pledged to the scheme to the end, you know. You won't back down now, will you?" with some anxiety the question was asked by Dunbar.

"I couldn't with honor, old man, could I?" and the young miner laughed, tossing a handful of gold nuggets up in the air and carelessly catching them as he spoke.

"There you go again!" said the other, "If I were you I would cut out all the small talk about honor after this. It isn't consistent."

"Agreed, but one likes to hear oneself mention the word occasionally as a reminder that there is such a thing. Then, too, if one chanced to be overheard it might make a good impression on somebody," winked the fellow slyly.

"I never thought of that to be sure. You may be young in years but you're not in wickedness. I believe you'll do. If you're not afraid it will injure that blessed honor of yours, go fetch another bottle of the best champagne from the bar, will you?"

"You bet I will. I'll get two of them while I'm getting," and Gibbs sauntered away with his hands in his pockets after tossing his cigarette over the steamer rail.

When Gibbs returned he was followed by a waiter who carried a tray with bottles and glasses. In their wake were others who had quickly responded to the young miner's invitation to drink with them, and they were all presently hilarious.

In this way were the two men scattering the contends of their gold sacks--their's by right of possession only; but really belonging to the townspeople of Nome. Little cared the two men how quickly the gold sacks were empty for they had the ability to replenish them when they liked. They were smooth talkers, told plausible tales, looked one squarely in the eye while speaking, and bore no marks to the casual observer of the rascality underneath.

If people were so easily taken in it was their own look-out, and served them right--this was a much quicker and easier way of mining the creek gold than with pick and shovel--nobody need be poor--"we will soon have money to burn, and might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb;" these were some of the arguments and observations made by the two miners as they proceeded up the river on their way to the "outside" and the scene of their future operations.

* * * * *

A year passed. In the great Koyukuk country the summer had come again and with it new life and activity in the way of prospectors and settlers. Craft of all shapes and sizes could be seen trying to force their way against the current of the great river. There were scows, houseboats, and small steamers. Families there were on flat boats which appeared to hold the earthly possessions of many. Tents were pitched on scows, and camp stoves with their accompanying smoke stacks peeping through the canvas did full duty. Mining tools formed a large and conspicuous part of the supplies of the incoming prospectors, for they were to exploit a certain rich section of country still in its virginity, and there were no trading posts near.

In the multitude there were men, women and children. There were outfits costing hundreds and even thousands of dollars, but all were full of eager expectancy; for were they not coming to one of the richest gold-bearing sections in Alaska? And had not their funds preceeded them for the purchase of claims soon now to be opened up by them?

It was small wonder that they were light hearted and worked early and late to get to the desired place. All carried descriptions of the famous creek and its surroundings, and each day eyes were strained in a westerly direction in the hope of catching a first glimpse of the promised land.

They had come from the Nome country, and a dozen different states besides; the Pacific coast being largely represented. They were there by scores from farms, from shops, from colleges, and from the great cities, and all were filled with highest anticipations.

They were looking for the creek called Midas.

They found it.

Dunbar and Gibbs were not there, but the granite mountains were. Many of the first prospectors to ascend the creek left their outfits and poled even farther in small boats. Many miles they toiled between banks so close and around curves so sharp that there was small chance for turning a tiny craft; but on all sides it was the same.

Winding in and out between great boulders of granite which had in some tremendous upheaval of nature been tossed aloft like snowballs from the hands of a schoolboy, the waters of this creek struggled, icy and sullen.

A tall and distinguished looking gentleman sat in the stern of a boat while his men laboriously poled. He was from London. He had outfitted a party of men in Nome many months before, and had come to find his gold claims.

No staking ground had been done. Close under a clump of pines the remains of a white man's camp in the shape of tin food cans, and broken cob pipes were found; while scattered near were the leaves of an old notebook and rudely traced map.

No further proof was needed. It was the identical creek called Midas by Dunbar and Gibbs.

It was well for them that they were not there.

The heart of Alaska in winter! It is more than pen can describe. Its beauty, grandeur, and immensity are feebly told in words. Snow and ice are everywhere, and that everywhere seems as great as the world. Hills and mountains are here innumerable and majestic; while rivers and creeks unlimited in number and of untold wealth lie safely locked in Nature's storehouse by Nature's hand. The heavens are glorious! the noonday sun making the whole earth to sparkle with diamonds like the gems on a queen's bosom; followed by hours illumined by a moon so softly and brilliantly beautiful as to appear like the eye of a god.

Fully as wonderful as in her gentler moods but far more terrible is Alaska when the great blizzard rages. There remains then no signs of serenity. Whirlwind follows whirlwind; gales from the ends of the earth blow horribly and with frenzied swiftness, bearing upon their breath the icy points of millions of keen needles which bite like the stings of insects. Flying, sifting, drifting snow, which before formed jewels of such exquisite beauty is now piled mountain high, or sucks itself with savage fierceness through crannies and into deep gorges between high hills, thus creating a fitting accompaniment in the dangerous crevasse.

Into this wilderness, north of the great Circle, and amid conditions like these, one would scarcely hope to find white men penetrating. Probably not from choice would they enter; certainly by force of circumstances if at all; and these must have been the most desperate. Be that as it may, a small trail of smoke one day made its way aloft from a log cabin half buried in the snow; while a pack of a dozen malamutes played about the door. A pile of logs and sticks of firewood, an axe, a tin bucket, and dog-sleds near, gave undisputed evidence of the presence here of someone besides natives.

Entering the door, a visitor would have been welcomed by two occupants. One of them lay stretched upon his bunk in the corner of the room; the other, a younger man, threw some sticks upon the fire.

They were arguing the question of breaking camp and pushing further eastward.

"If we can reach the Crow Mountains by spring, secure a boat at Rampart House and work along to the Mackenzie River we are all right," and the speaker bent over a map of Alaska spread out before him.

"From there to the coast is an easy matter, and to secure passage on some whaler for Point Barrow will not be difficult; but afterward--"

"Yes, afterward," interrupted the man upon the bunk, impatiently. "What about afterwards?"

"We will find a way into Siberia or China where we can enjoy our hard-earned gold," with a sarcastic emphasis upon the three last words of his sentence, but laughing lightly.

"There is no reason you should not do this," was the reply, "but with me it is different. I am ill, and daily growing weaker. This isolation and enforced inaction takes the life out of me; my head grows dizzy from much thinking, and I see forms, spectres, and hobgoblins in all shapes and colors," this was said complainingly and in a weakened voice.

"My dreams are so horrible that I dread the prospect of night."

"You're a fool to worry. Keep a stiff upper lip, and all will be well. See, I'm making a checker-board with which we can kill time when we like."

"I'd like to kill the whole of it before it kills me," was the response. "If I only had something to read or something to do. I'm sick of this infernal hole!"

"Ditto here, but what can we do? If we push on eastward now we will probably be without shelter, and it is a long and tedious job to build a log cabin. With the thermometer at sixty degrees below zero as it is we will freeze to death on the trail."

"Much loss it would be," growled Dunbar.

"Then if we went back to the Koyukuk," continued Gibbs, "we would be sure to run into the arms of some of our numerous mining partners from Midas, which we are in no hurry to do. We are now about half way between the headwaters of the Koyukuk and the Canadian boundary line, and as we are fairly comfortable here, with plenty of game and firewood, and as we are not sure of finding a shelter for our heads if we move now, I think it wise to stay right here for two months longer at least. With our hunting, eating, sleeping and checkers, the time will pass if we wait long enough," and the speaker resumed a lighter tone while trying to encourage the other.

"I suppose you are right, boy, but I detest this kind of a life."

"It's a heap better than being behind bars for a lifetime or feeding buzzards while dangling from the limb of a tree." Then seeing the horror on his partner's face, he said with a mockingly polite bow, "A thousand pardons, old fellow, for such unpleasant allusions, but I was only seeking to make you more contented for your own good as well as mine."

"I'm tired of it all," sighed the older man wearily.

"Oh, no, we're not tired of this, Dunbar," seizing a gold sack from among a heap of them upon the ground in a corner of the cabin and emptying the shining nuggets upon the checkerboard. "These look as good to me as ever, because I can see in them ease and luxury in some beautiful southern clime, where the birds sing sweetly and the flowers bloom unendingly; where we can find sweethearts by the dozen and live like sultans--by Jove, I wish I were there now."

The other groaned aloud. He covered his face with his hands.

"Take it away, take it out of my sight, I tell you. I hate it! I hate it!" he cried hoarsely and with eyes glaring, as he leaped from his bunk to the ground.

The younger man knew that he had gone too far and tried to pacify him, putting the gold hastily away and covering it from sight.

Afterwards when the older man had grown calmer, the two went for a hunt, followed by three of their dogs for company. The remainder of the malamutes kept watch by the camp in their absence.

* * * * *

The sun had long since sunk below the western horizon. Following in its wake great banks of luminous clouds swept by, finally culminating in a heavy sheet of haze.

From this gradually sprung broad arches of light to the zenith; while rays of brilliant crimson color ranged themselves perpendicularly from earth to sky, shooting up and down with great velocity and tremulousness. In the zenith these arches slowly widened, their rays multiplying until the whole sky was hidden, and then, deepening in intensity of color, became a veritable sea of blood, flowing steadily westward. Over the vast and snowy Arctic waste this glorious flood of color was pouring until no particle of whiteness remained.

At the close of the day the hunters and their dogs were returning to their cabin after having shot enough small game for some time.

A solemn stillness had until now prevailed, when suddenly, without warning, there were heard with startling clearness on the frosty air hissing or whizzing sounds, like the crackling of firebrands in a furnace.

With the first appearance of the polaris in the heavens Dunbar became greatly excited, clutching the arm of his companion until he cried out with pain.

"It has come at last! Its the judgment! Its hell, hell! See the blood! See it on my hands--it covers everything. Hell's everywhere!" and the man shrieked, tearing his clothing from him and darting from side to side as if trying to escape some awful fate.

In vain the younger man tried to quiet him.

"The devil's coming! He'll get me! Keep him away!" he cried with curses, and he crouched at the feet of Gibbs, a wild-eyed, and screaming maniac.

At that instant the crackling about their heads became louder, and the older man sprang to his feet in a frenzy of fright.

Leaping, shouting, cursing, flinging out his arms to imaginary assailants, tearing his beard and his hair by handfuls, he ran to and fro, a raving madman. Then in an insane frenzy he turned his back on his companion for one instant as if about to flee to the woods, when Gibbs, snatching his revolver from his belt, aimed it at the man's back and fired.

Dunbar fell dead upon the ground.

Until that moment the dogs, quite unconcerned at what was going on about them, being intent only upon following their trail of the morning back to the cabin, now fled toward home, howling dismally.

The young miner was now alone; utterly and entirely alone. Above and around him shone the blood-red light from the heavens; at his feet the body of his only friend--dead.

Gibbs fainted.

* * * * *

The magnificent electrical hurricane of the night before had passed over, leaving behind one faithful sentinel--the moon. Lovingly and brightly her beams were shed over the wilderness of snow whose purity was marred by only two dark blots--the bodies of two men lying dead upon their faces. The first died by the hand of the other. The second by freezing. Both were suddenly called to that judgment so horribly feared by the older man, who saw in the unusual display of the aurora polaris the realization of his worst imaginings.

So these two men fell; while the influence of their evil deeds continue like the ripples on a lake surrounding a sinking stone; perhaps forever.

"For I hold it true that thoughts are things
Endowed with body, breath and wings,
And that we send them forth to fill
The world with good results or ill."

[The end]
May Kellogg Sullivan's short story: Why Midas Failed

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