Adventure Magazine Cover, June 20, 1925 — page 162: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

144 He knew the post lay somewhere to the southeastward, between forty and sixty miles away, and to reach it was his only hope. It was neither desirable nor in keep- ing with his character to meditate upon the appalling difficulties of the journey in his crippled condition, drawing a sleigh loaded with a heavy and worse crippled dog. For to Shorty’s everlasting honor be it said that the idea of abandoning King to be killed by the wolves or to die of his wounds never even entered his head. Accordingly, and with a great effort, he lifted King bodily into the carriole. The dog seemed for a moment inclined to resent the liberty. No man had dared to handle him so since his puppyhood. But with a low growl and a slight wrinkling of the lip he suffered himself to be hoisted into the sleigh, where he settled down and fell to licking his wound again. Everything not absolutely essential Shorty left behind, keeping only food for a few days, his rifle, axe and robes. He hoped that the fish he had been carrying for dog food would, with the bodies of the dead dogs and those of their late companions, sufficiently relieve the hunger of the rest of ithe pack to keep them from attacking him for the time being. With a last sad look at the dogs he had loved and tended so well and who had served him so faithfully and a muttered curse at the wolves, Shorty bent to the traces and began to plod slowly in the direction of the post. His leg hurt him cruelly, his shoulders were sore, and the carriole pulled like lead. But keeping to the ridges as much as pos- sible and out of the deep drifts in the hol- lows, he held doggedly on his way with short intervals for rest until nightfall. Then he camped in a spruce grove and built his fire. He was very exhausted and in great pain. The only alleviation of his misery was that the temperature continued comparatively mild and that he saw no wolves. He ate a good supper, but King refused food, con- tinuing to lick his shoulder. “Well, King, you hard old nut,” said the ‘little man with a whimsical grin, “you'd better roll in with me tonight. We’re both sick men an’ we'll help keep each other warm. An’ if them wolves don’t come an’ get us tonight, we’d ought to be pretty comfortable. How about it?” Adventure King blinked, but submitted condescend- ingly to share his master’s rabbitskin robe. Shorty, not unnaturally, feeling more than a little lonely and discouraged, ventured to pat him gently on the head, and to even that the husky submitted with unwonted good-nature, though he made no effort to return the caress. ‘Well, you sure are one hard old case,’ said Shorty with a sigh. “But, King boy, you're a dandy scrapper. If them stink- in’ wolves show up we'll go out fightin’, won’t we?” King lifted his head and snuffed the air, but apparently scented nothing, for ‘he re- turned to his eternal licking of his torn shoulder. The night passed in great discomfort for both. Shorty’s shoulders and leg ached and throbbed and his snatches of sleep were broken and haunted with dreams of enor- mous wolves. King twitched and growled all night at his side. Shorty woke feeling tired and ill. King’s nose was hot and dry and his temper very short. With numb and shivering fingers Shorty got the fire going again in the ghost light of dawn, and having boiled himself a big pot of tea and chewed a little bannock that tasted like ashes in his mouth, sat about dressing his leg. The wound was much inflamed and the whole leg swollen, but not so much that he thought he could not walk with it. King still refused food, but greedily drank some melted snow. Shorty was _ inter- ested to see him bite off some blades of dry grass that stood up above the snow and chew them up. ‘Then he allowed himself to be helped into the carriole, where he curled himself up and gave his whole attention once more to his shoulder. SO THE pathetic little proces-~ sion started again—a crippled ® man hauling a crippled dog ‘ across a frozen and barren wilder- ness under a gray sky, and with a knife- edged wind lashing them like a whip. Shorty was ill-equipped by nature for wading through snow. His stumpy legs sank almost to the knee at every step. Here and there were drifts he had to cross, treacher- ous drifts of which the crust often broke and let him through to his waist in soft snow. But he was as hard as iron and of indomi- table spirit, and he made most amazing COMIGDIOOKSEEO