“I talked with the purser. He didn’t know anythingmore about it than I did； he didn’t know Flush of Gold，anyway， and besides， he was almost rushed to death. Youknow what a Yukon steamboat is， but you can’t guess whatthe Golden Rocket was when it left Dawson that June of1898. She was a hummer. Being the first steamer out， shecarried all the scurvy patients and hospital wrecks. Thenshe must have carried a couple of millions of Klondikedust and nuggets， to say nothing of a packed and jammedpassenger list， deck passengers galore， and bucks andsquaws and dogs without end. And she was loaded downto the guards with freight and baggage. There was amountain of the same on the fore-lower-deck， and eachlittle stop along the way added to it. I saw the box comeaboard at Teelee Portage， and I knew it for what it was，though I little guessed the joker that was in it. And theypiled it on top of everything else on the fore-lower-deck，and they didn’t pile it any too securely either. The mateexpected to come back to it again， and then forgot aboutit. I thought at the time that there was something familiarabout the big husky dog that climbed over the baggageand freight and lay down next to the box. And then wepassed the Glendale， bound up for Dawson. As she salutedus， I thought of Dave on board of her and hurrying toDawson to Flush of Gold. I turned and looked at herwhere she stood by the rail. Her eyes were bright， but shelooked a bit frightened by the sight of the other steamer，and she was leaning closely to the Count fellow as forprotection. She needn’t have leaned so safely against him，and I needn’t have been so sure of a disappointed DaveWalsh arriving at Dawson. For Dave Walsh wasn’t on theGlendale. There were a lot of things I didn’t know， but wassoon to know—for instance， that the pair were not yetmarried. Inside half an hour preparations for the marriagetook place. What of the sick men in the main cabin， andof the crowded condition of the Golden Rocket， thelikeliest place for the ceremony was found forward， onthe lower deck， in an open space next to the rail and gangplankand shaded by the mountain of freight with the bigbox on top and the sleeping dog beside it. There was amissionary on board， getting off at Eagle City， which wasthe next step， so they had to use him quick. That’s whatthey’d planned to do， get married on the boat.
“But I’ve run ahead of the facts. The reason DaveWalsh wasn’t on the Glendale was because he was on theGolden Rocket. It was this way. After loiterin’ in Dawsonon account of Flush of Gold， he went down to MammonCreek on the ice. And there he found Dusky Burns doingso well with the claim， there was no need for him to bearound. So he put some grub on the sled， harnessed thedogs， took an Indian along， and pulled out for SurpriseLake. He always had a liking for that section. Maybe youdon’t know how the creek turned out to be a four-flusher；but the prospects were good at the time， and Daveproceeded to build his cabin and hers. That’s the cabin weslept in. After he finished it， he went off on a moose huntto the forks of the Teelee， takin’ the Indian along.
“And this is what happened. Came on a cold snap. Thejuice went down forty， fifty， sixty below zero. I rememberthat snap—I was at Forty Mile； and I remember thevery day. At eleven o’clock in the morning the spiritthermometer at the N. A. T. & T. Company’s store wentdown to seventy-five below zero. And that morning， nearthe forks of the Teelee， Dave Walsh was out after moosewith that blessed Indian of his. I got it all from the Indianafterwards—we made a trip over the ice together to Dyea.
That morning Mr. Indian broke through the ice and wethimself to the waist. Of course he began to freeze rightaway. The proper thing was to build a fire. But DaveWalsh was a bull. It was only half a mile to camp， where afire was already burning. What was the good of buildinganother？ He threw Mr. Indian over his shoulder—and ranwith him—half a mile—with the thermometer at seventyfivebelow. You know what that means. Suicide. There’sno other name for it. Why， that buck Indian weighedover two hundred himself， and Dave ran half a mile withhim. Of course he froze his lungs. Must have frozen themnear solid. It was a tomfool trick for any man to do. Andanyway， after lingering horribly for several weeks， DaveWalsh died.
“The Indian didn’t know what to do with the corpse.
Ordinarily he’d have buried him and let it go at that. Buthe knew that Dave Walsh was a big man， worth lots ofmoney， a hi-yu skookum chief. Likewise he’d seen thebodies of other hi-yu skookums carted around the countrylike they were worth something. So he decided to takeDave’s body to Forty Mile， which was Dave’s headquarters.
You know how the ice is on the grass roots in thiscountry—well， the Indian planted Dave under a foot ofsoil—in short， he put Dave on ice. Dave could have stayedthere a thousand years and still been the same old Dave.
You understand—just the same as a refrigerator. Then theIndian brings over a whipsaw from the cabin at SurpriseLake and makes lumber enough for the box. Also， waitingfor the thaw， he goes out and shoots about ten thousandpounds of moose. This he keeps on ice， too. Came thethaw. The Teelee broke. He built a raft and loaded it withthe meat， the big box with Dave inside， and Dave’s teamof dogs， and away they went down the Teelee.
