Golden Torment

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Golden Torment Page 33

by Janelle Taylor


  Ben entered the cabin and went to Landis’s room to read the note she had surely left for her husband. How very proud and resilient she was…An honest soul, she had told Landis where she was heading and why, to locate her father because he couldn’t or wouldn’t.

  Fifteen

  Jack had brought along an extra pair of snowshoes, making Kathy’s task easier. It required over an hour of trudging in the awkward footgear before she got the hang of them. They were shaped like bear paws, with a slightly upturned toe and long tail. Made of seasoned white ash to avoid warping, they were cured to prevent sagging and tripping. The leather riggings bit uncomfortably into her feet even through her boots. Jack also delivered a wool shirt to retain her body heat, a gift from Harriet. At first, Kathy had balked at the belt and holster with a pistol and hunting knife which Jack insisted she wear under her parka. Jack was pleased to learn she actually knew how to load and fire a gun.

  Kathy and Jack walked for two hours before halting to rest. Oddly, this trek didn’t seem as strenuous as the one with Landis, once she adjusted to the clumsy snowshoes. Jack gave her tips on conserving energy and staying warm, things Landis hadn’t shared. Perhaps, Kathy thought, to make her dependent on him, or to persuade her she was ill-prepared for this rough climate and terrain, or to control and weaken her spirit!

  As they rested later, Jack gave her instructions and warnings. He handed her a pair of snowglasses and demanded she keep her eyes, tawny hair, face, and figure concealed from the men, who’d been without women for months, or even years. “We don’t want any dangerous temptations.”

  When Kathy shrugged, he scowled and cautioned, “I’m serious, Kathy. Your voice could charm the devil himself. When men are bored and restless, they do crazy things. This area has a lawless atmosphere; makes men think they can do as they please. When a man’s facing death every day, he holds little sacred. Let me do the talking. If there’s any trouble, flaunt your husband’s name; they’ll think twice.”

  “I’ll be very obedient, Jack,” she vowed, seeing how grave and worried he was, ignoring his last suggestion.

  “Let’s get to it; we have miles to cover before nightfall.”

  They roamed settlements along the Klondike: Bonanza, Eldorado, and Lost Chance. The inhabitants were existing in countless ways in this deprived area: large and heavy canvas tents, to small and scanty ones, to roughly constructed lean-tos of branches, to four-foot high enclosures of logs without tops, to wooden shacks which tempted wind or fire to destroy them.

  Kathy keenly observed this despicable way of life, scoffing at the riches which lured men here to vanquish them. From appearances, they were becoming poorer instead. Some men barely had proper clothing to ward off a mild chill, much less icy cold weather. Some begged for food or money like urchins on street corners. Jack warned her to ignore them, which she tried to do. But it was nearly impossible in some cases where the men were old and weak or still boys, all hopelessly dejected.

  She witnessed two fights and several quarrels. She saw men huddled around meager fires, drinking whiskey to ease their mental and physical pains or tossing rocks to win a few flakes of gold-dust. In one campsite, two men were playing music while others danced jigs. The harmonica and fiddle blended into a soulful tune which wrenched her heart at their foolish, misguided plights. One generous and successful hunter was sharing his recent kill with some friends, the black eyes of the exquisite doe glazed in death.

  Kathy’s search led nowhere. No one had heard of Jake Hammond, not even from Landis Jurrell…Still, they continued. They inspired interest along their journey, but so far no trouble. As dusk was nearing, Jack made their last stop in Gold Bottom where he had a friend. Frank Hardy offered his hospitality. Being one of the successful prospectors, he enjoyed a large tent with a wood stove. He permitted them to bed down in his canvas home; but they refused to share his grub, insisting on using their own.

  Kathy snuggled into her sleeping bag as she watched the two men share whiskey and a game of cards. She couldn’t afford memories or deliberations to harass her. Later she would analyze what happened between her and Landis and why. It was too soon; the pain was too fresh.

  Kathy’s lids drooped. Each time her sleepy eyes touched on Jack, he was massaging his legs. Perhaps muscle cramps, she speculated. But during the day, she had noticed a pallor to his face which had gone ignored. He also ate gingerly, stopping to rub his gums. She wondered if he was becoming ill. She promised to ask him in the morning when privacy permitted. Gradually her eyes closed, not to open again until morning.

  After a quick meal of coffee and biscuits, Kathy and Jack bid Hardy a farewell. For three days they covered the area between the Eldorado River and Dawson. Their progress was sluggish, and their gain was naught. They halted at Dominion, Sulphur, Little Blanche, Eureka, and Indian. Some nights they spent huddled beneath a tent of heavy branches; others, they enjoyed the warmth and generosity of Jack’s friends. More days and nights blurred into an obvious defeat. Her spirits were sorely lagging.

  Kathy tried to conceal her disappointments as time, strangers, and places flashed before her eyes. Jack suggested they bypass Dawson, since he had already checked there before. They rambled along the banks of Bear Creek, questioning the sourdoughs and tenderfeet. They followed the Yukon River northward toward Fortymile, the claims office, and Sheep Mountain. Here, they mostly confronted Indians and Eskimos, most unable to speak English.

  They passed a miserable night with the leader of an Indian tribe, one which unnerved Kathy as the man kept watching her with sharp eyes. These people wore colorful or oddly formed nosepieces. Their clothing was of furs and sealskins. Their dwellings were nearly underground! The opening was framed with stout posts, and the earthly ceiling was covered with strips of bark and hunks of sod. In the very center of the ceiling was a hole cut out for the escape of smoke, the entrance of light, and the exchange of air. The fireplace in the middle of the floor did little to dispel the morbid gloom and biting chill. They ate from dishes made of birch bark. That night was long and demanding, allowing her little much-needed sleep or rest.

  Kathy was delighted to leave early that next day. Returning from Fortymile, they halted at Chicken, Franklin, and other tiny clusters of tents and lean-tos whose names she couldn’t recall. Two more nights were endured under the stars with Kathy shaking violently from the wind and snow. They skirted Dawson again, to walk seven miles southward to Fort Reliance. She had met Joe Ladue of the Alaska Commercial Company at their stop in Ogilvie. Joe had suggested they head to Reliance to question his trappers and traders, saying they travelled distances into the interior.

  Joe’s men couldn’t tell her anything, but offered a warm place to sleep in their storage room. Jack was irritable and pale. He had eaten very little, his gums enflamed and his teeth loose. He rubbed ointment on his swollen, tender joints. Kathy was worried. He was stopping frequently to rest, as if his body was slowly weakening. It was time to alter her plans; they weren’t getting anywhere. It was clear Landis wasn’t asking around about her father, for Jake’s name was unknown to those questioned.

  Kathy demanded the truth about Jack’s health. He moodily quipped, “Scurvy, Kat, a sailor’s demon. I’ve been at sea many times. The cold and walking nags it a bit. Don’t worry your pretty head; I’ll be just fine.”

  “You’re hurting badly, Jack. You need rest and some hot soup. You’ve hardly eaten in days. Why don’t we head for Skagway? We’ve walked the entire Yukon River, as well as the Klondike and countless others. We’ve left word everywhere. If he’s here, let him look for me!”

  “You’re just angry and exhausted, Kathy. If he’s here, we’ll find him,” he stated with fierce determination.

  “It’s no use, Jack. Do you realize we missed Christmas? I’m freezing and miserable. I don’t have the heart to search anymore. Maybe we can go to Dawson later. We can give it another go when it warms up and we’re refreshed,” she stated. He was proud; she wanted him to think it was her idea to t
erminate their fruitless journey.

  “You really want to call it off?” he probed, rubbing his left leg.

  “Yes. I want some hot food, a warm bed, and some friendly faces for a change.” She dramatically sighed in fatigue and dejection.

  “All right,” he agreed. “I’ll head to Stewart after I drop you. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open. Which cabin should I take you to, Mrs. Jurrell?”

  Kathy stared into space as she murmured, “Home, Skagway…”

  Jack wanted to rent a boat, but the Yukon was mostly frozen. The trip was three torturous days over the Chilkat Pass. Some places were so steep and slippery she feared she’d plunge off the narrow path. Along the rocky cliffs, huge icicles were frozen to the rocks, some two feet long. The odd sight looked like the gaping mouth of an ice monster who was fiercely showing his razor teeth. When the sun was out, it dazzled the ice and white snow, causing her to squint until her head ached. They passed Dyea and headed for their destination.

  After dusk, they wearily entered Skagway on the western side. Kathy knew it was long past suppertime in Moore’s tent. How she craved a hot meal and warm fellowship! She had missed her friends, especially Harriet. She hastened, anticipating a cozy fire and hot coffee.

  The cabin was dark, the door locked. No curl of smoke left her chimney. Kathy curiously glanced around, noting the vast changes since her departure over two months ago. Several new cabins had been completed and showed signs of occupancy. Dray’s trading post and storage house were also finished. Countless new tents lined the edge of the forest. Dogs howled and barked in a distance where the pens were located.

  “I wonder where Harriet is? It’s awfully late to be out. Let’s check the supper tent,” she quickly suggested.

  Two lanterns were still burning. Kathy pulled aside the flap and entered to find four men playing cards. Smiles and whoops of joy greeted her as Mike, Danny, Moore, and Dray jumped up to welcome her. Harriet rushed from the stove. They laughed and chatted, entreating details of her trek inland, asking about her husband.

  “Wait just a minute,” she murmured. “One at the time. I’ve missed you terribly. I’ve been freezing and starving for weeks. Jack and I are exhausted.” As pre-planned with Jack, Kathy told them Landis was still searching for Jake while Jack brought her to wait in safety with her friends.

  “No luck?” Moore asked wistfully.

  “None, I’m afraid. We’ve tried every place between here and the end of the earth!”

  “Don’t get discouraged,” Mike soothed her troubled brow.

  “We’ve missed you and the good service,” Moore injected into the flurry of conversation. “Is that generous husband sharing you again?”

  “If my job’s still open, it’ll pass the hours away,” she hinted. Moore quickly agreed, then the perceptive Harriet changed the subject.

  “You missed Christmas and all the fun,” Harriet informed her. “I’ve even moved into my new cabin. The boys are here, Kathy. I left my little girl in Seattle until warmer weather. The horses arrived too. I’ve been renting them out to earn more money.”

  “You’ve really been busy while I was gone. That’s wonderful, Harriet. I’m so happy for you.” My own lonely cabin, she mused sadly.

  “There’s been a lot of trouble while you were gone,” Mike hinted.

  “What kind of trouble?” Kathy pressed with interest.

  “The usual for this time of year, stealing, fighting, and such. The Mounties are in and out every few days.”

  “The Mounties? But this is American territory,” she reasoned.

  “Yes, but they’re the only form of law enforcement in these parts. They help us out when there’s real trouble. They stay active this time of year chasing after criminals and rescuing people. My hat’s off to the North-West Mounted Police. I’ve never seen any force more well trained or courageous. They’ve got their hands full with this heavy influx of prospectors, too many of ’em bad men,” Mike sounded envious of those proud and daring men that Kathy mistrusted.

  “I think we should overpower Mrs. Jurrell with questions tomorrow. They both look ready to collapse,” Moore noted.

  Jack was invited to sleep in Moore’s cabin; he accepted. Griff walked Harriet to her new home, a short distance from Kathy’s. Mike escorted Kathy to her cabin and built her a fire. She thanked him for his kindness. But she flew into bed, clothes and all, before the chill was chased away and was soon fast asleep.

  That following morning, Moore convinced Jack to stay with him for a few days. A doctor had arrived during Kathy’s absence, one with high expectations of earning armloads of gold with his much needed services and skills. He examined Jack under protest, to learn Jack’s diagnosis was correct: scurvy. Both Harriet and Kathy hovered over him, forcing soup and lime juice into him. The doctor ordered bedrest, nourishing liquids, no tension, and applications of ointment on his throbbing joints. Jack rebelled at being treated like an invalid, but he lost the argument.

  For Kathy, the day was consumed in joyous reunions with the lumberjacks and with keeping the stubborn Jack in bed. She savored the hot meals, lingering over them after everyone was finished. She helped Harriet clean up, then visited with Harriet’s boys. That first full day home ended with Kathy feeling relieved and loved, but lonely.

  That next day was similar. The lumberjacks left for the North Ridge timberline. Weather permitting, they cut trees to be hauled away later. During snow storms, they worked on their gear and tools: oiling, repairing, and sharpening. If all chores were done, some men earned extra money by building furniture for Dray to sell.

  After supper, Kathy returned to her quiet cabin. She bathed and pulled on a nightgown. As she brushed her hair, she wondered how Landis had taken her actions. Worse, she fretted over her friends’ reactions to her lie about travelling with her husband, for Harriet had informed her of Landis’s visits during her absence. Knowing she was searching for Jake, why would he come here? Why was he so anxious to see her? He had deceived her too many times to be trusted. Was she doubting everyone now?

  Dray had given her a bottle of red wine to share with Landis when he came home. Kathy sighed unhappily. She opened the wine and filled a glass. Noticing it was cracked, she sought another glass. Maybe the heady wine would help her relax and forget. A knock sounded on Kathy’s door. She glanced in that direction, wondering who would come calling this late. Without unlocking the door, Kathy asked who was there. She was astonished when the steely voice said, “Landis, Kat. Open the door.”

  There was nothing to do but let him inside. Yet, she hesitated. Landis called out, “Open up, Kat; I’m freezing and we need to talk. I’ll leave after we get something straight,” he promised.

  As Kathy opened the door and stepped aside, Landis stalked in and turned to focus his turbulent gaze on her. “Have a seat, Landis. Would you care for some wine; it’s a gift to us from Dray.”

  Landis’s darkened glare went past her to study the cabin, sighting the two glasses with wine. “So, you finally came home,” the rage-taut man sneered contemptuously, eyes dark and stormy. “Who was my wife entertaining this late and half-dressed?” he demanded acidly.

  Kathy’s startled eyes flew to his face. She went white and rigid. Landis’s eyes astutely took in her reaction. She glued her gaze to the intrepid creature, struggling to master her erratic respiration and racing heart. Her hands balled into tight fists, her chin quivered. “You’d better leave, Landis.”

  “I want to talk to you right now!” Landis demanded harshly, ignoring her shock and shaky request.

  “Not tonight, Landis,” she replied, unable to subdue the quavering in her voice. “Please go,” she stated, opening the door.

  Suddenly, Jack appeared and questioned, “What’s wrong, Kathy?”

  “Landis was just leaving,” she murmured in a strained voice. “What are you doing out of bed? You know what the doctor said,” she scolded Jack to prevent a nasty scene.

  “That bed was eating me alive. I was taking a walk
.”

  “You get back to bed instantly, or you’ll spoil your progress.”

  Jack glanced at Landis, then back at Kathy. “You just arrive, Landis?” he casually asked.

  “Yep,” he replied tightly. “Kat and I need to talk privately.”

  “I said we’ll talk tomorrow, Landis. You’re obviously tired.”

  Landis was furious; Jack had never seen him so out of control. Landis slammed his palm against the door, the explosion of noise causing her to jump. “Now!” he fired at her like a rifle shot splitting the silence. “Either we talk in private, or right before your ‘friend’,” he ominously warned.

  Jack witnessed this battle of wills and words. Kathy kept her lids lowered and her back to the door, her paleness deserting her face for a rosy glow. “I’ve been all over this territory looking for you. You’re my wife, remember? We have a matter to settle tonight. I’m not leaving until you hand it over.”

  His mysterious words went over her head. “Couldn’t we discuss this in the morning after you’ve rested and relaxed?”

  “This is a private matter, dear wife, but I’ll talk freely if you don’t close the door,” he threatened, his fury rising by the minute.

  “I’m not going to talk to you or hear anything you have to say until you settle down,” she bravely informed him.

  “Landis, I think you’d better leave. This isn’t the…” Jack began, but was tersely cut off by Landis.

  “Stay out of this, Jack! It’s between me and my wife; you’ve interfered enough. How dare you lead her all across that frozen hell!”

  Kathy recognized that streak of dangerous fury which emanated from her husband. She smiled at Jack and told him, “Landis is right, Jack. We should talk tonight. You get in bed and take care of yourself.”

 

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