d. But as they were all
open carriages, and we were both wet with perspiration and rain, and
hungry and tired, we refused to book passage.

"To ride eight miles in an open wagon would mean a case of pneumonia
to me," I said.

"Quite right," said the doctor, and we pulled out down the road at a
smart clip.

The rain had ceased, but the air was raw and the sky gray, and I was
very tired, and those eight miles stretched out like a rubber string.
Night fell before we had passed over half the road, which lay for the
most part down the flat along the Chilcoot River. In fact, we crossed
this stream again and again. In places there were bridges, but most
of the crossings were fords where it was necessary to wade through
the icy water above our shoe tops. Our legs, numb and weary, threw
off this chill with greater pain each time. As the night fell we
could only see the footpath by the dim shine of its surface patted
smooth by the moccasined feet of the Indian packers. At last I walked
with a sort of mechanical action which was dependent on my
subconscious will. There was nothing else to do but to go through.
The doctor was a better walker than I. His long legs had more reach
as well as greater endurance. Nevertheless he admitted being about as
tired as ever in his life.

At last, when it seemed as though I could not wade any more of those
icy streams and continue to walk, we came in sight of the electric
lights on the wharfs of Dyea, sparkling like jewels against the gray
night. Their radiant promise helped over the last mile miraculously.
We were wet to the knees and covered with mud as we entered upon the
straggling street of the decaying town. We stopped in at the first
restaurant to get something hot to eat, but found ourselves almost
too tired to enjoy even pea soup. But it warmed us up a little, and
keeping on down the street we came at last to a hotel of very
comfortable accommodations. We ordered a fire built to dry our
clothing, and staggered up the stairs.

That ended the goldseekers' trail for me. Henceforward I intended to
ride--nevertheless I was pleased to think I could still walk thirty
miles in eleven hours through a rain storm, and over a summit three
thousand six hundred feet in height. The city had not entirely eaten
the heart out of my body.

We arose from a dreamless sleep, somewhat sore, but in amazingly good
trim considering our condition the night before, and made our way
into our muddy clothing