willingly the other
allowed him to do the cooking, the dish-washing, the fire-building, the
bed-making. Little monotonies of this kind form the hardest part of
winter travel, they are the rocks upon which friendships founder and
partnerships are wrecked. Out on the trail, nature equalizes the work to
a great extent, and no man can shirk unduly, but in camp, inside the
cramped confines of a tent pitched on boughs laid over the snow, it is
very different. There one must busy himself while the other rests and
keeps his legs out of the way if possible. One man sits on the bedding
at the rear of the shelter, and shivers, while the other squats over a
tantalizing fire of green wood, blistering his face and parboiling his
limbs inside his sweaty clothing. Dishes must be passed, food divided,
and it is poor food, poorly prepared at best. Sometimes men criticize
and voice longings for better grub and better cooking. Remarks of this
kind have been known to result in tragedies, bitter words and flaming
curses--then, perhaps, wild actions, memories of which the later years
can never erase.

It is but one prank of the wilderness, one grim manifestation of its
silent forces.

Had Grant been unable to do his part Cantwell would have willingly
accepted the added burden, but Mort was able, he was nimble and "handy,"
he was the better cook of the two; in fact, he was the better man in
every way--or so he believed. Cantwell sneered at the last thought, and
the memory of his debt was like bitter medicine.

His resentment--in reality nothing more than a phase of insanity begot
of isolation and silence--could not help but communicate itself to his
companion, and there resulted a mutual antagonism, which grew into a
dislike, then festered into something more, something strange,
reasonless, yet terribly vivid and amazingly potent for evil. Neither
man ever mentioned it--their tongues were clenched between their teeth
and they held themselves in check with harsh hands--but it was
constantly in their minds, nevertheless. No man who has not suffered the
manifold irritations of such an intimate association can appreciate the
gnawing canker of animosity like this. It was dangerous because there
was no relief from it: the two were bound together as by gyves; they
shared each other's every action and every plan; they trod in each
other's tracks, slept in the same bed, ate from the same plate. They
were like prisoners ironed to the same staple.