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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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trail. The worthless ones were to be got rid of, and since dogs count for little against dollars, they were to be sold. Three days passed, by which time Buck and his mates found how really tired and weak they were. Then, on the morning of the fourth day, two men from the States came along and bought them harness and all, for a song. The men addressed each other as ‘Hal’ and ‘Charles’. Charles was a middle-aged, lightishcoloured man, with weak and watery eyes and a moustache that twisted fiercely and vigorously up, giving the lie to the limply drooping lip it concealed. Hal was a youngster of nineteen or twenty, with a big Colt’s revolver and a hunting-knife strapped about him on a belt that fairly bristled with cartridges. This belt was the most salient thing about him. It advertised his callowness-a callowness sheer and unutterable. Both men were manifestly out of place, and why such as they should adventure the North is part of the mystery of things that passes understanding. Buck heard the chaffering, saw the money pass between the man and the Government agent, and knew that the Scotch halfbreed and the mail-train drivers were passing out of his life on the heels of Perrault and Francois and the others who had gone before. When driven with his mates to the new owners’ camp, Buck saw a slipshod and slovenly affair, tent half stretched, dishes unwashed, everything in disorder; also, he saw a woman. ‘Mercedes’ the men called her. She was Charles’s wife and Hal’s sister-a nice family party. Buck watched them apprehensively as they proceeded to take down the tent and load the sled. There was a great deal of effort about their manner, but no business-like method. The tent was rolled into an awkward bundle three times as large as it should have been. The tin dishes were packed away unwashed. Mercedes continually fluttered in the way of her men and kept up an unbroken chattering of remonstrance and advice. When they put a clothes-sack on the front of the sled, she suggested it should go on the back; and when they had put it on the back, and covered it over with a couple of other bundles, she discovered overlooked articles which could abide nowhere else but in that sack, and they unloaded again. Three men from a neighbouring tent came out and looked on, grinning and winking at one another. ‘You’ve got a right smart load as it is,’ said one of them; ‘and it’s not me should tell you your business, but I wouldn’t tote that tent along if I was you.’ |
