The Iron Trail

by Rex Beach

  IV

  HOW A JOURNEY ENDED AT HOPE

  To Natalie Gerard the trip down the bay and into the sound that nightwas a wonderful adventure. She remembered it afterward far more vividlythan the shipwreck, which became blurred in retrospect, so that shesoon began to think of it as of some half-forgotten nightmare. To beginwith, the personality of Murray O'Neil intrigued her more and more. Theman was so strong, so sympathetic, and he had such a resistless way ofdoing things. The stories she had heard of him were romantic, and thesuperintendent's wife had not allowed them to suffer in the telling.Natalie felt elated that such a remarkable person should exert himselfon her behalf. And the journey itself impressed her imagination deeply.

  Although it was nine o'clock when they boarded the launch, it was stilllight. The evening was yellow with the peculiar diffused radiance ofhigh latitudes, lending a certain somberness to their surroundings.

  The rushing tide, the ragged rock-teeth which showed through it, thetrackless, unending forests that clothed the hills in every direction,awed her a little, yet gave her an unaccustomed feeling of freedom andcontentment. The long wait out between the lonely islands, where thetiny cockle-shell rolled strangely, although the sea seemed as level asa floor, held a subtle excitement. Darkness crept down out of theunpeopled gorges and swallowed them up, thrilling her with a sense ofmystery.

  When midnight came she found that she was ravenously hungry, and shewas agreeably surprised when O'Neil produced an elaborate lunch. Therewere even thermos bottles filled with steaming hot coffee, moredelicious, she thought, than anything she had ever before tasted. Hecalled the meal their after-theater party, pretending that they hadjust come from a Broadway melodrama of shipwreck and peril. The subjectled them naturally to talk of New York, and she found he was morefamiliar with the city than she.

  "I usually spend my winters there," he explained.

  "Then you have an office in the city?"

  "Oh yes. I've maintained a place of business there for years."

  "Where is it? On Wall Street?"

  "No!" he smiled. "On upper Fifth Avenue. It's situated in the extremesouthwest corner of the men's cafe at the Holland House. It consists ofa round mahogany table and a leather settee."

  "Really!"

  "That's where I'm to be found at least four months out of every twelve."

  "They told me you built railroads."

  "I do--when I'm lucky enough to underbid my competitors. But that isn'talways, and railroads aren't built every day."

  "Mr. Gordon is building one."

  "So I'm told." O'Neil marveled at the trick of fortune which hadentangled this girl and her mother in the web of that brilliant andunscrupulous adventurer.

  "Perhaps it will be a great success like your famous North Pass & YukonRailway."

  "Let us hope so." He was tempted to inquire what use Gordon had made ofthat widely advertised enterprise in floating his own undertaking, butinstead he asked:

  "Your mother has invested heavily, has she not?"

  "Not in the railroad. Her fortune, and mine too, is all in the coalmines."

  O'Neil smothered an exclamation.

  "What is it?" she demanded.

  "Nothing, only--are you sure?"

  "Oh, quite sure! The mines are rich, aren't they?"

  "There are no mines," he informed her, "thanks to our misguidedlawmakers at Washington. There are vast deposits of fine coal whichwould--make mines if we were allowed to work them, but--we are notallowed."

  "'We'? Are you a--a coal person, like us?"

  "Yes. I was one of the first men in the Kyak fields, and I investedheavily. I know Mr. Gordon's group of claims well. I have spent morethan a hundred thousand dollars trying to perfect my titles and I'm nonearer patent now than I was to begin with--not so near, in fact. Ifancy Gordon has spent as much and is in the same fix. It is a coalmatter which brings me to Alaska now."

  "I hardly understand."

  "Of course not, and you probably won't after I explain. You see theGovernment gave us--gave everybody who owns coal locations inAlaska--three years in which to do certain things; then it extendedthat time another three years. But recently a new Secretary of theInterior has come into office and he has just rescinded that laterruling, without warning, which gives us barely time to comply with thelaw as it first stood. For my part, I'll have to hustle or loseeverything I have put in. You see? That's why I hated to see thosehorses drown, for I intended to use them in reaching the coal-fields.Now I'll have to hire men to carry their loads. No doubt Mr. Gordon hasarranged to protect your holdings, but there are hundreds of claimantswho will be ruined."

  "I supposed the Government protected its subjects," said the girl,vaguely.

  "One of the illusions taught in the elementary schools," laughedO'Neil. "We Alaskans have found that it does exactly the opposite! Wehave found it a harsh and unreasonable landlord. But I'm afraid I'mboring you." He wrapped her more snugly in her coverings, for a chillhad descended with the darkness, then strove to enliven her withstories garnered from his rich experience--stories which gave herfascinating glimpses of great undertakings and made her feel personallyacquainted with people of unfamiliar type, whose words and deeds,mirthful or pathetic, were always refreshingly original. Of certainindividuals he spoke repeatedly until their names became familiar tohis hearer. He called them his "boys" and his voice was tender as hetold of their doings.

  "These men are your staff?" she ventured.

  "Yes. Every one who succeeds in his work must have loyal hands to helphim."

  "Where are they now?"

  "Oh! Scattered from Canada to Mexico, each one doing his own particularwork. There's Mellen, for instance; he's in Chihuahua building acantilever bridge. He's the best steel man in the country. McKay, mysuperintendent, is running a railroad job in California. 'Happy Tom'Slater--"

  "The funny man with the blues?"

  "Exactly! He was at work on a hydraulic project near Dawson the last Iheard of him. Dr. Gray is practising in Seattle, and Parker, the chiefengineer, has a position of great responsibility in Boston. He is thebrains of our outfit, you understand; it was really he who made theNorth Pass & Yukon possible. The others are scattered out in the sameway, but they'd all come if I called them." The first note of pride shehad detected crept into his voice when he said: "My 'boys' are neveridle. They don't have to be, after working with me."

  "And what is your part of the work?" asked the girl.

  "I? Oh, I'm like Marcelline, the clown at the Hippodrome--alwayspretending to help, but forever keeping underfoot. When it becomesnecessary I raise the money to keep the performance going."

  "Do you really mean that all those men would give up their positionsand come to you if you sent for them?"

  "By the first train, or afoot, if there were no other way. They'dfollow me to the Philippines or Timbuctoo, regardless of their homesand their families."

  "That is splendid! You must feel very proud of inspiring such loyalty,"said Natalie. "But why are you idle now? Surely there are railroads tobe built somewhere."

  "Yes, I was asked to figure on a contract in Manchuria the other day. Icould have had it easily, and it would have meant my everlastingfortune, but--"

  "But what?"

  "I found it isn't a white man's country. It's sickly and unsafe. Someof my 'boys' would die before we finished it, and the game isn't worththat price. No, I'll wait. Something better will turn up. It alwaysdoes."

  As Natalie looked upon that kindly, square-hewn face with its traceryof lines about the eyes, its fine, strong jaw, and its indefinableexpression of power, she began to understand more fully why those withwhom she had talked had spoken of Murray O'Neil with an almostworshipful respect. She felt very insignificant and purposeless as shehuddled there beside him, and her complacence at his attentionsdeepened into a vivid sense of satisfaction. Thus far he had spokenentirely of men; she wondered if he ever thought of women, and thrilleda bit at the intimacy that had sprung up between them so quickly
andnaturally.

  It confirmed her feeling of prideful confidence in the man that thenorth-bound freighter should punctually show her lights around theislands and that she should pause in her majestic sweep at the signalof this pigmy craft. The ship loomed huge and black and terrifying asthe launch at length drew in beneath it; its sides towered likemassive, unscalable ramparts. There was a delay; there seemed to besome querulousness on the part of the officer in command at being thushalted, some doubt about allowing strangers to come aboard. But thegirl smiled to herself as the voices flung themselves back and forththrough the night. Once they learned who it was that called from thesea their attitude would quickly change. Sure enough, in a little whileorders were shouted from the bridge; she heard men running fromsomewhere, and a rope ladder came swinging down. O'Neil was lifting herfrom her warm nest of rugs now and telling her to fear nothing. Thelaunch crept closer, coughing and shuddering as if in terror at thisclose contact. There was a brief instant of breathlessness as the girlfound herself swung out over the waters; then a short climb withO'Neil's protecting hand at her waist and she stood panting, radiant,upon steel decks which began to throb and tremble to the churningengines.

  One further task remained for her protector's magic powers. It appearedthat there were no quarters on the ship for women, but after a subduedcolloquy between Murray and the captain she was led to the cleanest andcoziest of staterooms high up near the bridge. Over the door sheglimpsed a metal plate with the words "First Officer" lettered upon it.O'Neil was bidding her good night and wishing her untroubled rest, thenalmost before she had accustomed herself to her new surroundings animmaculate, though sleepy, Japanese steward stood before her with atray. He was extremely cheerful for one so lately awakened, being stillaglow with pleased surprise over the banknote which lay neatly foldedin his waistcoat pocket.

  Natalie sat cross-legged on her berth and munched with the appetite ofa healthy young animal at the fruit and biscuits and lovely heavy cakewhich the steward had brought. She was very glad now that she haddisobeyed her mother. It was high time, indeed, to assert herself, forshe was old enough to know something of the world, and her judgment ofmen was mature enough to insure perfect safety--that much had beenproved. She felt that her adventure had been a great successpractically and romantically. She wanted to lie awake and think it overin detail, but she soon grew sleepy. Just before she dozed off shewondered drowsily if "The Irish Prince" had found quarters for himself,then reflected that undoubtedly the captain had been happy to tumbleout of bed for him. Or perhaps he felt no fatigue and would watch thenight through. Even now he might be pacing the deck outside her door.At any rate, he was not far off. She closed her eyes, feelingdeliciously secure and comfortable.

  In one way the southern coast of Alaska may be said to be perhaps amillion years younger than any land on this continent, for it is stillin the glacial period. The vast alluvial plains and valleys of theinterior are rimmed in to the southward and shut off from the Pacificby a well-nigh impassable mountain barrier, the top of which is cappedwith perpetual snow. Its gorges, for the most part, run rivers of iceinstead of water. Europe has nothing like these glaciers which overflowthe Alaskan valleys and submerge the hills, for many of them containmore ice than the whole of Switzerland. This range is the Andes of thenorth, and it curves westward in a magnificent sweep, hugging the shorefor a thousand leagues. Against it the sea beats stormily; its frozencrest is played upon by constant rains and fogs and blizzards. But overbeyond lies a land of sunshine, of long, dry, golden summer days.

  Into this chaos of cliff and peak and slanting canyon, midway to thewestward, is let King Phillip Sound, a sheet of water dotted withislands and framed by forests. It reaches inland with long, crookedtentacles which end like talons, in living ice. Hidden some forty milesup one of these, upon the moraine of a receding glacier, sits Cortez, athriving village and long the point of entry to the interior, thecommencement of the overland trail to the golden valleys of the Yukonand the Tanana. The Government wagon trail winds in from here, tracingits sinuous course over one pass after another until it emerges intothe undulating prairies of the "inside country."

  Looking at the map, one would imagine that an easier gateway to theheart of Alaska would be afforded by the valley of the Salmon River,which enters the ocean some few miles to the eastward of King PhillipSound, but there are formidable difficulties. The stream bursts thelast rampart of the Coast Range asunder by means of a canyon down whichit rages in majestic fury and up which no craft can navigate. Then itspreads itself out through a dozen shallow mouths across a forty-miledelta of silt and sand and glacial wash. As if Nature feared her arcticstrong-box might still be invaded by this route, she has placedadditional safeguards to the approach in the form of giant glaciers,through the very bowels of which the Salmon River is forced to burrow.

  In the early days of the Klondike rush men had attempted to ascend thevalley, but they had succeeded only at the cost of such peril anddisaster that others were warned away. The region had become the sourceof many weird stories, and while the ice-fields could be seen from theKyak coal-fields, and on still days their cannonading could be heardfar out at sea, there were few who had ventured to cross the forty-milemorass which lay below them and thus attempt to verify or to disprovethe rumors.

  It was owing to these topographical conditions that Cortez had beenestablished as the point of entry to the interior; it was because ofthem that she had grown and flourished, with her sawmills and herginmills, her docks, and her dives. But at the time when this storyopens Alaska had developed to a point where an overland outlet bywinter and a circuitous inlet, by way of Bering Sea and the crookedYukon, in summer were no longer sufficient, There was need of apermanent route by means of which men and freight might come and gothrough all the year. The famous North Pass & Yukon Railway, far to theeastward, afforded transportation to Dawson City and the Canadianterritory, and had proven itself such a financial success that buildersbegan to look for a harbor, more to the westward, from which they couldtap the great heart of Alaska. Thus it was that Cortez awoke onemorning to find herself selected as the terminus of a new line. Otherrailway propositions followed, flimsy promotion schemes for the mostpart, but among them two that had more than paper and "hot air" behindthem. One of these was backed by the Copper Trust which had made heavymining investments two hundred miles inland, the other by CurtisGordon, a promoter, who claimed New York as his birthplace and theworld as his residence.

  Gordon had been one of the first locaters in the Kyak coal-fields, andhe had also purchased a copper prospect a few miles down the bay fromCortez, where he had started a town which he called Hope. There weresome who shook their heads and smiled knowingly when they spoke of thatprospect, but no one denied that it was fast assuming the outwardsemblance of a mine under Gordon's direction. He had erected a finesubstantial wharf, together with buildings, bunk-houses, cottages, anda spacious residence for himself; and daily the piles of debris beneaththe tunnel entries to his workings grew. He paid high wages, he spentmoney lavishly, and he had a magnificent and compelling way with himthat dazzled and delighted the good people of Cortez. When he beganwork on a railroad which was designed to reach far into the interiorhis action was taken as proof positive of his financial standing, andhis critics were put down as pessimists who had some personal grudgeagainst him.

  It was up to the raw, new village of Hope, with its odor of fresh-cutfir and undried paint, that the freight-steamer with Natalie Gerard and"The Irish Prince" aboard, came gingerly one evening.

  O'Neil surveyed the town with some curiosity as he approached, forGordon's sensational doings had interested him greatly. He wasaccustomed to the rapid metamorphoses of a growing land; it was hisbusiness, in fact, to win the wilderness over to order, and thereforehe was not astonished at the changes wrought here during his absence.But he was agreeably surprised at the businesslike arrangement of theplace, and the evidence that a strong and practised hand had guided itsdevelopment.

  Even
before the ship had tied up he had identified the tall, impressiveman on the dock as the genius and founder of Hope, and the dark-haired,well-formed woman beside him as Natalie's mother. It was not until theywere close at hand that the daughter made her presence known; then,unable to restrain herself longer, she shrieked her greeting down overthe rail. Mrs. Gerard started, then stared upward as if at anapparition; she stretched out a groping hand to Gordon, who stood as iffrozen in his tracks. They seemed to be exchanging hurried words, andthe man appeared to be reassuring his companion. It looked very odd toO'Neil; but any suspicion that Natalie was unwelcome disappeared whenshe reached the dock. Her mother's dark eyes were bright with unshedtears of gladness, her face was transfigured, she showed the strong,repressed emotion of an undemonstrative nature as they embraced.Natalie clung to her, laughing, crying, bombarding her with questions,begging forgiveness, and babbling of her adventures. Their resemblancewas striking, and in point of beauty there seemed little to choosebetween them. They might have been nearly of an age, except that themother lacked the girl's restless vivacity.

  O'Neil remained in the background, like an uncomfortable bridegroom,conscious meanwhile of the searching and hostile regard of CurtisGordon. But at last his protegee managed to gasp out in a more or lesscoherent manner the main facts of the shipwreck and her rescue,whereupon Gordon's attitude abruptly altered.

  "My God!" he ejaculated. "You were not on the Nebraska?"

  "Yes, yes, yes!" cried Natalie. "The life-boats went off and left meall alone--in the dark--with the ship sinking! Mr. O'Neil saved me. Hetook me up and jumped just as the ship sank, and we were all night inthe freezing water. We nearly died, didn't we? He fainted, and so didI, mummie dear--it was so cold. He held me up until we were rescued,though, and then there wasn't room in the life-boat for both of us. Buthe made them take me in, just the same, while he stayed in the water.He was unconscious when he reached the shore. Oh, it was splendid!"

  O'Neil's identity being established, and the nature of his servicebecoming apparent, Curtis Gordon took his hand in a crushing grip andthanked him in a way that might have warmed the heart of a stonegargoyle. The man was transformed, now that he understood; he became ageyser of eloquence. He poured forth his appreciation in roundedsentences; his splendid musical voice softened and swelled and brokewith a magnificent and touching emotion. Through it all the Irishcontractor remained uncomfortably silent, for he could not helpthinking that this fulsome outburst was aroused rather by the man whohad built the North Pass.

  A crowd was collecting round them, but Gordon cleared it away with animperious gesture.

  "Come!" he said. "This is no place to talk. Mr. O'Neil's splendidgallantry renders our mere thanks inane. He must allow us to expressour gratitude in a more fitting manner."

  "Please don't," exclaimed O'Neil, hastily.

  "You are our guest; the hospitality of our house is yours. Hope wouldbe honored to welcome you, sir, at any time, but under thesecircumstances--"

  "I'm going right on to Cortez."

  "The ship will remain here for several hours, discharging freight, andwe insist that you allow us this pleasure meanwhile. You shall spendthe night here, then perhaps you will feel inclined to prolong yourstay. All that Cortez has we have in double proportion--I say it withpride. Cortez is no longer the metropolis of the region. Hope--Well, Imay say that Cortez is, of all Alaskan cities, the most fortunate,since it has realized its Hope." He laughed musically. "This town hascome to stay; we intend to annex Cortez eventually. If you feel thatyou must go on, I shall deem it a pleasure to send you later in mymotor-boat. She makes the run in fifteen minutes. But you must firsthonor our house and our board; you must permit us to pledge your healthin a glass. We insist!"

  "Please!" said Mrs. Gerard.

  "Do come, your Highness," Natalie urged, from the shelter of the elderwoman's arms.

  "You're more than kind," said O'Neil, and together the four turnedtheir faces to the shore.