ed your life
for a purpose. The minute you stop pulling, that minute I'll sink
this into your ribs." He prodded him with his sheath knife. "Get
along now, or I'll make you haul it alone." He kicked him into
resentful motion again, for he had come to look upon him as an
animal, and was heedless of his signs of torture--so thus they
marched; master and slave. "He's putting it on," he thought, but
abuse as he might, the other's efforts became weaker, and his agony
more marked as the days passed.

The morning came when he refused to arise.

"Get up!"

Klusky shook his head.

"Get up, I say!" Captain spoke fiercely, and snatched him to foot,
but with a groan the man sank back. Then, at last, he talked.

"I can't do it. I can't do it. My legs make like they von't vork.
You can kill me, but I can't valk."

As he ceased, Captain leaned down and pushed back his lips. The
teeth were loose and the gums livid.

"Great Heavens, what have I done! _What have I done_!" he muttered.

Klusky had watched his face closely.

"Vat's the mattaire? Vy do you make like that, eh? Tell me." His
voice was sharp.

"You've got it."

"I've got it? Oi! Oi! I've got it! Vat have I got?" He knew
before the answer came, but raved and cursed in frenzied denial. His
tongue started, language flowed from him freely.

"It ain't that. No! No! It is the rheumatissen. Yes, it shall be
so. It makes like that from the hard vork always. It is the
cold--the cold makes it like."

With despair Captain realized that he could neither go on, dragging
the sick man and outfit, nor could he stay here in idleness to
sacrifice the precious days that remained to his partner. Each one
he lost might mean life or death.

Klusky broke in upon him.

"You von't leave me, Mistaire Captain? Please you von't go avay?"

Such frightened entreaty lay in his request that before thinking the
other replied.

"No, I won't. I made you come and I'll do all I can for you. Maybe
somebody will pass." He said it only to cheer, for no one travelled
this miserable stretch save scattering, half-starved Indians, but the
patient caught at it eagerly, hugging the hope to his breast during
the ensuing days.

That vigil beside the dying creature lived long in Captain's memory.
The bleak, timberless shores of the bay; their tiny tent, crouched
fearfully among the willow tops; the silent nights, when in the
clear, cold air the stars stared at him close