led over the idea that
he could not catch for the edification of Leclaire. They came to where
Siskiyou Pearly's boat lay moored to the bank. The rope with which it
was tied ran across the path to a pine stump. They tripped over it and
went down, O'Brien underneath. A faint flash of consciousness lighted
his brain. He felt the impact of bodies upon his and struck out madly
for a moment with his fists. Then he went to sleep again. His gentle
snore arose on the air, and Mucluc Charley began to giggle.

"New idea," he volunteered, "brand new idea. Jes' caught it--no trouble
at all. Came right up an' I patted it on the head. It's mine. 'Brien's
drunk--beashly drunk. Shame--damn shame--learn'm lesshon. Trash
Pearly's boat. Put 'Brien in Pearly's boat. Casht off--let her go down
Yukon. 'Brien wake up in mornin'. Current too strong--can't row boat
'gainst current--mush walk back. Come back madder 'n hatter. You an' me
headin' for tall timber. Learn 'm lesshon jes' shame, learn 'm lesshon."

Siskiyou Pearly's boat was empty, save for a pair of oars. Its gunwale
rubbed against the bank alongside of O'Brien. They rolled him over into
it. Mucluc Charley cast off the painter, and Leclaire shoved the boat
out into the current. Then, exhausted by their labours, they lay down on
the bank and slept.

Next morning all Red Cow knew of the joke that had been played on Marcus
O'Brien. There were some tall bets as to what would happen to the two
perpetrators when the victim arrived back. In the afternoon a lookout
was set, so that they would know when he was sighted. Everybody wanted
to see him come in. But he didn't come, though they sat up till
midnight. Nor did he come next day, nor the next. Red Cow never saw
Marcus O'Brien again, and though many conjectures were entertained, no
certain clue was ever gained to dispel the mystery of his passing.

* * * * *

Only Marcus O'Brien knew, and he never came back to tell. He awoke next
morning in torment. His stomach had been calcined by the inordinate
quantity of whisky he had drunk, and was a dry and raging furnace. His
head ached all over, inside and out; and, worse than that, was the pain
in his face. For six hours countless thousands of mosquitoes had fed
upon him, and their ungrateful poison had swollen his face tremendously.
It was only by a severe exertion of will that he was able to open narrow
slits in his face through which he could peer. He happe