Read Online The Trail of 98 by Robert W Service - Free Book Online
Authors: Robert W Service
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the land, of overwhelming vastitude, of
unconquerable loneliness. It was as if I had felt for the first time the Spirit
of the Wild; the Wild where God broods amid His silence; the Wild, His infinite
solace and His sanctuary.
As we forged through the vague sea lanes, we were like a glittering trinket
on the bosom of the night. Our mad merriment scarce ever abated. We were a blare
of revelry and a blaze of light. Excitement mounted to fever heat. In the midst
of it the women with the enamelled cheeks reaped a bountiful harvest. I marvel
now that, with all the besotted recklessness of those that were our pilots, we
met with no serious mishap.
"Don't mind you much of a Sunday-school picnic, does it?" commented the
Prodigal. "It'sfierce the
way the girls are prying some of these crazy jays loose from their wads. They're
all plumb batty. I'm tired trying to wise them up. 'Go and chase yourself,' they
say; 'we're all right. Don't matter if we do loosen up a bit now, there's all
kinds of easy money waiting for us up there.' Then they talk of what they're
going to do when they've got the dough. One gazebo wants to buy a castle in the
old country; another wants a racing stable; another a steam yacht. Oh, they're a
hot bunch of sports. They're all planning to have a purple time in the sweet
by-and-bye. I don't hear any of them speak of endowing a home for decrepit
wash-ladies or pensioning off their aged grandmothers. They make me sick.
There's a cold juicy awakening coming."
He was right. In their visionary leaps to affluence they soared to giddy
heights. They strutted and bragged as if the millions were already theirs. To
hear them, you would think they had an exclusive option on the treasure-troves
of the Klondike. Yet, before and behind us, were dozens of similar vessels,
bearing just as eager a mob of fortune-hunters, all drawn irresistibly northward
by the Golden Magnet.
Nevertheless, it was hard not to be affected by the prevailing spirit of
optimism. For myself the gold had but little attraction, but the adventure was
very dear to my heart. Once more the clarion call of Romance rang in my ears,
and I leapt to its summons. And indeed, I reflected, it was a wonderfulkaleidoscope of a world,
wherein I, but a half-year back cooling my heels in a highland burn, should be
now part and parcel of this great Argonaut army. Already my native uncouthness
was a thing of the past, and the quaint mannerisms of my Scots tongue were
yielding to the racy slang of the frontier. More to the purpose, too, I was
growing in strength and wiry endurance. As I looked around me I realised that
there were many less fitted for the trail than I, and there was none with such a
store of glowing health. You may picture me at this time, a tallish young man,
with a fine colour in my cheeks, black hair that curled crisply, and dark eyes
that were either alight with eagerness or agloom with dreams.
I have said that we were all more or less in a ferment of excitement, but to
this I must make a reservation. One there was who, amid all our unrest, remained
cold, distant and alienthe Jewish girl, Berna. Even in the old man the gold
fever betrayed itself in a visionary eye and a tremor of the lips; but the girl
was a statue of patient resignation, a living reproof to our febrile and
purblind imaginings.
The more I studied her, the more out of place she seemed in my picture, and,
almost unconsciously, I found myself weaving about her a fabric of romance. I
endowed her with a mystery that piqued and fascinated me, yet without it I have
no doubt I would have been attracted to her. I longed to know her uncommon well,
to win her regard, to do somethingfor her that should make her eyes rest very kindly on me. In
short, as is the way of young men, I was beginning to grope blindly for that
affection and sympathy which are the forerunners of passion and love.
The land was wintry and the wind shrilled so that the attendant
unconquerable loneliness. It was as if I had felt for the first time the Spirit
of the Wild; the Wild where God broods amid His silence; the Wild, His infinite
solace and His sanctuary.
As we forged through the vague sea lanes, we were like a glittering trinket
on the bosom of the night. Our mad merriment scarce ever abated. We were a blare
of revelry and a blaze of light. Excitement mounted to fever heat. In the midst
of it the women with the enamelled cheeks reaped a bountiful harvest. I marvel
now that, with all the besotted recklessness of those that were our pilots, we
met with no serious mishap.
"Don't mind you much of a Sunday-school picnic, does it?" commented the
Prodigal. "It'sfierce the
way the girls are prying some of these crazy jays loose from their wads. They're
all plumb batty. I'm tired trying to wise them up. 'Go and chase yourself,' they
say; 'we're all right. Don't matter if we do loosen up a bit now, there's all
kinds of easy money waiting for us up there.' Then they talk of what they're
going to do when they've got the dough. One gazebo wants to buy a castle in the
old country; another wants a racing stable; another a steam yacht. Oh, they're a
hot bunch of sports. They're all planning to have a purple time in the sweet
by-and-bye. I don't hear any of them speak of endowing a home for decrepit
wash-ladies or pensioning off their aged grandmothers. They make me sick.
There's a cold juicy awakening coming."
He was right. In their visionary leaps to affluence they soared to giddy
heights. They strutted and bragged as if the millions were already theirs. To
hear them, you would think they had an exclusive option on the treasure-troves
of the Klondike. Yet, before and behind us, were dozens of similar vessels,
bearing just as eager a mob of fortune-hunters, all drawn irresistibly northward
by the Golden Magnet.
Nevertheless, it was hard not to be affected by the prevailing spirit of
optimism. For myself the gold had but little attraction, but the adventure was
very dear to my heart. Once more the clarion call of Romance rang in my ears,
and I leapt to its summons. And indeed, I reflected, it was a wonderfulkaleidoscope of a world,
wherein I, but a half-year back cooling my heels in a highland burn, should be
now part and parcel of this great Argonaut army. Already my native uncouthness
was a thing of the past, and the quaint mannerisms of my Scots tongue were
yielding to the racy slang of the frontier. More to the purpose, too, I was
growing in strength and wiry endurance. As I looked around me I realised that
there were many less fitted for the trail than I, and there was none with such a
store of glowing health. You may picture me at this time, a tallish young man,
with a fine colour in my cheeks, black hair that curled crisply, and dark eyes
that were either alight with eagerness or agloom with dreams.
I have said that we were all more or less in a ferment of excitement, but to
this I must make a reservation. One there was who, amid all our unrest, remained
cold, distant and alienthe Jewish girl, Berna. Even in the old man the gold
fever betrayed itself in a visionary eye and a tremor of the lips; but the girl
was a statue of patient resignation, a living reproof to our febrile and
purblind imaginings.
The more I studied her, the more out of place she seemed in my picture, and,
almost unconsciously, I found myself weaving about her a fabric of romance. I
endowed her with a mystery that piqued and fascinated me, yet without it I have
no doubt I would have been attracted to her. I longed to know her uncommon well,
to win her regard, to do somethingfor her that should make her eyes rest very kindly on me. In
short, as is the way of young men, I was beginning to grope blindly for that
affection and sympathy which are the forerunners of passion and love.
The land was wintry and the wind shrilled so that the attendant
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