Part 17 (1/2)
”Sure ye do,” nervously smiled Slim, frightened out of a heart-solo as he returned to his surroundings.
”Well, then, listen to what I'm saying. I'm the big chief of the village, and when I'm stimulated and happy them fellers I don't like hides out and lets me and Nature operate things. Ain't that right?”
He glared inquiringly at his friends.
Red, the proprietor, explained over the bar in a whisper to Captain, the new man from Dawson: ”That's Big George, the whaler. He's a squaw-man and sort of a bully--see? When he's sober he's on the level strickly, an' we all likes him fine, but when he gets to fightin' the pain-killer, he ain't altogether a gentleman. Will he fight? Oh! Will he fight? Say! he's there with chimes, he is!
Why, Doc Miller's made a grub-stake rebuildin' fellers that's had a lingerin' doubt cached away about that, an' now when he gets the booze up his nose them patched-up guys oozes away an' hibernates till the gas dies out in him. Afterwards he's sore on himself an'
apologizes to everybody. Don't get into no trouble with him, cause he's two checks past the limit. They don't make 'em as bad as him any more. He busted the mould.”
George turned, and spying the new-comer, approached, eyeing him with critical disfavour.
Captain saw a bear-like figure, clad cap-a-pie in native fas.h.i.+on.
Reindeer pants, with the hair inside, clothed legs like rock pillars, while out of the loose squirrel parka a corded neck rose, brown and strong, above which darkly gleamed a rugged face seamed and scarred by the hate of Arctic winters. He had kicked off his deer-skin socks, and stood bare-footed on the cold and draughty floor, while the poison he had imbibed showed only in his heated face, Silently he extended a cracked and hardened hand, which closed like the armoured claw of a crustacean and tightened on the crunching fingers of the other. Captain's expression remained unchanged and, gradually slackening his grip, the sailor roughly inquired:
”Where'd you come from?”
”Just got in from Dawson yesterday,” politely responded the stranger.
”Well! what're you goin' to do now you're here?” he demanded.
”Stake some claims and go to prospecting, I guess. You see, I wanted to get in early before the rush next spring.”
”Oh! I 'spose you're going to jump some of our ground, hey? Well, you ain't! We don't want no claim jumpers here,” disagreeably continued the seaman; ”we won't stand for it. This is my camp--see?
I own it, and these is my little children.” Then, as the other refused to debate with him, he resumed, groping for a new ground of attack.
”Say! I'll bet you're one of them eddicated dudes, too, ain't you?
You talk like a feller that had been to college,” and, as the other a.s.sented, he scornfully called to his friends, saying ”Look here, fellers! Pipe the jellyfis.h.!.+ I never see one of these here animals that was worth a cuss; they plays football an' smokes cigareets at school; then when they're weaned they come off up here an' jump our claims 'cause we can't write a location notice proper. They ain't no good. I guess I'll stop it.”
Captain moved toward the door, but the whaler threw his bulky frame against it and scowlingly blocked the way.
”No, you don't. You ain't goin' to run away till I've had the next dance, Mister Eddication! Humph! I ain't begun to tell ye yet what a useless little barnacle you are.”
Red interfered, saying: ”Look 'ere, George, this guy ain't no playmate of yourn. We'll all have a jolt of this disturbance promoter, an' call it off.” Then, as the others approached he winked at Captain, and jerked his head slightly toward the door.
The latter, heeding the signal, started out, but George leaped after him and, seizing an arm, whirled him back, roaring:
”Well, of all the cussed impidence I ever see! You're too high-toned to drink with us, are you? You don't get out of here now till you take a lickin' like a man.”
He reached over his head and, grasping the hood of his fur s.h.i.+rt, with one movement he stripped it from him, exposing a ma.s.sive naked body, whose muscles swelled and knotted beneath a skin as clear as a maiden's, while a map of angry scars strayed across the heavy chest.
As the s.h.i.+rt sailed through the air. Red lightly vaulted to the bar and, diving at George's naked middle, tackled beautifully, crying to Captain: ”Get out quick; we'll hold him.”
Others rushed forward and grasped the bulky sailor, but Captain's voice replied: ”I sort of like this place, and I guess I'll stay a while. Turn him loose.”
”Why, man, he'll kill ye,” excitedly cried Slim. ”Get out!”
The captive hurled his peacemakers from him and, shaking off the clinging arms, drove furiously at the insolent stranger.
In the cramped limits of the corner where he stood. Captain was unable to avoid the big man, who swept him with a crash against the plank door at his back, grasping hungrily at his throat. As his shoulders struck, however, he dropped to his knees and, before the raging George could seize him, he avoided a blow which would have strained the rivets of a strength-tester and ducked under the other's arms, leaping to the cleared centre of the floor.