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To Win or to Die: A Tale of the Klondike Gold Craze, a fiction by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 2. Fallen Among Thieves

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_ CHAPTER TWO. FALLEN AMONG THIEVES

"Hullo, there!" cried a rough voice. "Why don't you come on?" and the next minute a couple of figures seemed to start out of the darkness.

"I'm fagged out. Can you lend me a hand?"

"Lend you a hand? Yes," said another voice. "Where's your mate?"

"I'm alone."

"Alone? No pal with you?"

"No, and my sledge has stuck fast. Will you help me as far as your fire?"

"Got a sled, hev you? All right, mate. Where's the line? Lay hold, Leggy, while I give it a hyste. That's your sort. Come on." It seemed like a dream, and as if all the peril and horror had passed away, as the two men dragged the sledge along and the adventurer staggered on beside them, till they halted in the ruddy light of a great fire, lit at the foot of a stupendous wall of glistening ice-covered rock. The fire of pine-boughs crackled and flashed, and lit up the face of a third man, a big red-bearded fellow, who was kneeling down tending the embers and watching a camp kettle slung from three sticks, the contents of which were beginning to steam.

"Here we are, Beardy," said one of the rescue party. "Comp'ny gent on his travels."

The kneeling man scowled at the speaker, and then put his hand behind him as if from instinct, but dropped it as the other said:

"It's all right, Beardy. Number four's empty, isn't it? Because if it aren't, you'll have to give up your room."

The big red-bearded man showed some prominent yellow teeth in a grin, nodded, and pushed a blazing brand under the kettle.

"Sit down, youngster," said the first speaker. "Maybe you'll jyne us at supper?"

"I shall be very glad."

"Right you are, and welcome! 'Aven't brought anything with you, I suppose?"

"Yes, I have some cake and bacon."

"Well done, young un. Get it out," said the red-bearded man, and, recovered somewhat by his warm reception, the young adventurer began to unlash the load upon the sledge, the two men who had come to his aid eagerly joining in, their eyes glistening as they examined the various objects that were set free.

"Going yonder after the yaller stuff?" said the owner of the red beard, as they squatted round the fire.

"Yes."

"And all alone, too?"

The traveller nodded, and held his half-numbed hands in the warm glow, as he furtively glanced round at his companions, whose aspect was by no means reassuring.

"Well," continued the last speaker, "I dunno what Yankee Leggat thinks, and I dunno what Joey Bredge has got to say, but what I says is this. You're a-going to do what's about as silly a thing as a young man can do."

"Why?"

"Why?" said the man fiercely; "because you're going to try and do what no chap can do all alone. You've got a good kit and some money, I s'pose; but you don't think you're going to get to the gold stuff, do you?"

"Of course I do."

The man showed his yellow teeth in an unpleasant grin, and winked at his companions.

"And all alone, eh? 'Tain't to be done, lad. You'll be stuck up before you yet half-way there by Injuns, or some o' they Yankee shacks yonder, stripped o' everything you've got, and set adrift, eh, Joey?"

The man addressed nodded and grunted.

"What should you say he ought to do, Leggy?"

"Make his hay while the sun shines," said the other. "He's tumbled into a bit o' luck, and if he knows what he's about he'll just stop along with us. We don't want him, seeing as our party's made up, but we don't want to be hard on a lad as is a bit hign'rant o' what he's got to go through."

"That's so," put in the man addressed as Joey. "You can't do it, mate. Why, if it hadn't been for us you'd ha' been a hicicle afore morning, if the bears and wolves hadn't tucked you up warm inside. You've got to take a good offer. Now, Beardy, bring out the tins; that soup's done by this time."

The traveller made no reply, but leaned a little more over the fire, wishing that he had braved the dangers of the bitter frost and snow, and feeling that he had been too ready to break down at the first encounter with trouble. For the more he saw of his new companions the less he, liked them, and he was not long in making up his mind what to do.

By this time three big tin cups, which fitted one into the other, had been produced, and filled from the steaming contents of the kettle.

"We didn't expect company," said the cook, "so two of us'll have to do with one tin, and have it filled twice. You and me'll join, Joey, and let squire have my tin."

"No, thank you," was the reply, made quietly and firmly. "I will not intrude on your good nature farther. I was a bit done up, but the fire has set me right again, and I'm quite ready to take the risks of the journey alone."

"Oh, that's it, is it?" said the man gruffly.

"I'll get you to let me rest here by the fire for an hour to eat my bit of bread and meat, and then I'll camp near you and go on again as I came. I shall manage, I daresay."

"Are we going to stand this, mates?" cried the red-bearded man fiercely.

"No!" came in answer, as all sprang up as if by a preconcerted signal.

"You misunderstand me, gentlemen," said the adventurer quietly, though his heart beat fast with the knowledge that the suspicions which had haunted him were correct. "I am much obliged for your kindness, and I want to save you trouble, that is all."

"Hear that, lads? We aren't good enough for the likes of him. All right, then, off he goes."

"Our company aren't good enough, eh? Then off you goes."

"Very well," said the young man, rising quickly; "but there is no need for a quarrel. I will go at once, and I thank you for what you have done."

"But we haven't done yet," cried the man addressed as Leggy. "Now, boys."

There was a sudden rush, and in an instant the young fellow was seized and thrown upon his face; then, in spite of his desperate struggles, he was turned over, his weapon seized, and everything of value dragged from his pockets.

"Quiet!" snarled the leader in the attack, "or I'll soon quiet you."

"You dogs! You scoundrels! Help! Thieves!"

"Louder, my lad, louder. Call police: there's some over yonder in Canady. Haul off that fur coat, lads. It'll just fit me, and I'll have his cap and gloves. That's right. Now then, my whippersnapper, off you go!"

Set free, the young man, in spite of his bubbling rage, felt the madness of further resistance, and the uselessness of wasting breath; so he sprang to his sledge, to begin lashing it fast with the rope.

"Hands off there!" roared the chief scoundrel, taking aim at him. "Now then, run for it, and get yourself warm before we begin to shoot."

"I'm going," panted the victim, "but I must fasten up my traps."

"You ain't got no traps. They're ourn," cried the man. "We give you a chance for your life, so cut at once."

"What! Send me away like this?" cried the young man, aghast. "It's murder! Let me have my blankets, man."

"Run!" shouted the scoundrel, and he shook his pistol.

"You coward!" cried the victim.

"Run!" was roared again.

Feeling that the gang into whose hands he had fallen probably meant to hide their crime by silencing him for ever, the victim turned and ran for his life, and as he ran he felt a sharp pang in the arm.

A heavy fall checked the victim's panic flight, and as he lay panting and wet with the perspiration which had started from every pore, he realised that one of the bullets had taken effect, ploughing his left arm, which throbbed as if being seared with a red-hot iron.

But the bodily agony was as nothing to the mental anguish which he suffered. Death was before him if he lay there--death in a painless, insidious form, no doubt; but still, death in all its horror to one so young and strong.

He knew that he must rise and keep moving if he wished to prolong his existence, and he rose to his feet, raging now against the cowardly gang, and more against himself.

"I was a fool and a coward," he groaned. "Why didn't I fight for my life? Great heaven! What shall I do?"

He paused for a moment, meaning to turn back and make an attack upon his enemies.

But, unarmed as he was, he knew it was madness, and he tramped on through the darkness in the faint hope of finding help, but with his heart sinking as he grasped the fact that fate or the management of the gang had driven him onward farther into the defile, and away from the aid he might have found if he had made his way back to his morning's starting-place.

Fully satisfied that death would be his portion, he struggled on aimlessly till utterly exhausted; and then he paused, breathless, to go over once more the scene by the glowing fire, and ask himself whether he had not been to blame for displaying his distrust after the way in which he had been rescued. But he could only come back to his old way of thinking--that he had fallen among thieves of the worst type, and that he owed his life to the prompt way in which he had escaped.

Recovering his breath somewhat, he stood listening as he gazed back through the darkness; but all was still. There were no signs of pursuit, so, taking out his handkerchief, he folded it into a bandage, and with one hand and his teeth contrived to bind and tie it tightly round his wound so as to stop the bleeding, which was beginning to cause a strange sensation of faintness.

He had been hot with exertion when he stopped, but now the feeling of exhilaration caused by his escape died out as rapidly as the heat. A deadly chill attacked mind and body, for his position seemed crushing. It was horrible beyond bearing, and for the moment he was ready to throw himself down in his despair. The intense cold would, he knew, soon bring on a sensation of drowsiness, which would result in sleep, and there would be no pain--nothing but rest from which there would be no awakening; and then--

Then the coward feeling was driven back in a brave effort--a last struggle for life.

The cold was intense, the darkness thicker than ever, for the sides of the ravine had been closing in till only a narrow strip of faintly marked sky was visible, while at every few steps taken slowly the poor fellow stumbled over some inequality and nearly fell.

At times he struck himself heavily, but he was beyond feeling pain, and in his desperation these hindrances acted merely as spurs to fresh effort, for he was on the way to safety. At any minute he felt that he might catch sight of another gleam of light, the camp fire of some other adventurer, and he knew that some of those on the way to the great Eldorado must be men who would help and even protect a fellow-creature in his dire state of peril.

But he knew that this intense feeling of energy could not last, that he was rapidly growing weaker, and that ere many minutes had elapsed he would once more stumble and fall, and this time the power to rise again would have passed away.

Was it too late to return to his enemies and make an appeal for his life? he asked himself at last. They might show him mercy, and life was so sweet.

But as these thoughts flickered through his brain in the half delirium fast deadening his power of thinking coherently, he once more saw the scene by the fire, and the faces of the three scoundrels stood out clearly with that relentless look, that cruel bestial glare of the eye, which told him that an appeal would but hasten his end.

"Better fall into the hands of God than men like them," he groaned, and setting his teeth hard he tottered on a few yards farther, with the snow growing less deep, the ground more stony.

Then the end came sooner than he expected, for his feet caught against something stretched across his way, and he fell heavily, uttering a cry of horror as he struggled to his knees.

For it was no block of stone, no tree-trunk torn from some shelf in the precipice above; he grasped the fact in an instant that he had tripped over a sledge similar to his own, to fall headlong upon the ghastly evidence of what was to be his own fate; for stiff and cold in the shallow snow, his fingers had come upon the body of some unfortunate treasure-seeker, and as, half-wild with horror, he forced himself to search with his hands to discover whether some spark of life might yet be burning, it was to find that whoever it was must have laid calmly down in his exhaustion, clasping his companion to his breast to give and receive the warmth that might save both their lives.

Vain effort. The man's breast was still for ever, and the faithful dog that had nestled closely with his muzzle in his master's neck was stiff and stark.

"God help me!" groaned the adventurer, clasping his hands and letting them fall softly on the dead; "is this the ending of my golden dream?" _

Read next: Chapter 3. In The Dark

Read previous: Chapter 1. A Break-Down

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