Lincoln High School - Lincolnian Yearbook (Tacoma, WA)

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would lead his June THE LINCOLNIAN Pazezs more: but he did not have that which he wanted most, happiness. He be- lieved that if he returned to the North he could find it as he had found gold. The North called to him, and he went. The source of my wealth, he said, shall be, also, the source Of my mirth. The journey was long, and Mac' Farlane was impatient. He stood anxiously at the rail of the steamer, watching for a sight of the North- land. l have come back, heisaifl to himself, as if calling out to Alas- kag will you give me happiness? His heart beat faster as he neared the shores. He was a hunter again: not of gold, but of happiness. He should have itl He should have itl MacFarlane felt that the country had promised him that. But this quest would be different. lt would be doubly hard to find happiness where he had found gold before. He found himself again in Daw- son. But now it was different. How the human race changes things! Here was Dawson-once home to Mac- Farlane-now as New York, with gambling houses, dance halls, thea- ters and cafes. Everything. in Mac- Farlane's eye, looked different now. It could not be Dawson-his hap- piness: he must look to the wilds. lt was the wilds which called him. THE next spring, MacFarlane sta rt- ed northward. With a dog-sledge and grub for a year, he mushed toward the McKenzie river. Along the route he cached a part of his food for his return. The first of the feathered fowl found MacFarlane ahead of them in their summer home. Northward he went, as did the birds. Like the birds, he was getting away from the warmer climate and from men. To the north he would find quiet, free from the cares of everyday. On and on and on Maclrarland mushed, far northward. He saved his rations by shooting wild fowl and venison for himself and the dogs. ln places he prospected for gold, but not with the same lust -as before. He had convinced himself that gold was not what he wanted: it was not what had called him back to Alaska. No, it was happiness which he now sought, and he should have it. He felt that the wild promised him that. She seemed to speak to him, to be near him, a spirit in embers of the camp-fire dying in the night. ' One night he was awakened 'by an early fall of snow drifting in on him thru the flap of his tent. Far away he could hear. the howling of a wolf- pack, and a fear came over him such as he had never known before. There seemed to be an unearthly note in their weird howl. It was a bold leader, MacFarlane decided, that pack so close to the own malamutes just again the fear crept Were the sledge dogs not hear them howl- tent, with his outside. Then into his heart. there? He did ing, as they surely would have with the wolves so near. No, they had left him: they had been called by the Northland. With the coming of the first snow, the feathered fowl flew southward, but MacFarlane did not go. He was held enchanted. The feathered fowl might come and go, but MacFarlane was to remain. Now he ate sparingly, for he planned to winter right where he was, and move with the coming of spring. But the monotony of places, of the unbroken wore on him. He had not happiness. He felt that he crazy if he did not break dullness of that life. He remained until the worst of the winter was over, then, strapping as much of his the open whiteness, yet found would go out of the

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P12228 THE LINCOLNIAN -Tulle when all the crew except Maxwell and two of the men had gone to Dawson, Mr. Wingarten, head of the Amalgamated Company, came with four other officials to the claim. Max- well calculated that there would be action. Then the two, Maxwell and Wingarten, had a conference. Win- garten appeared two days later in Dawson and looked up MacFarlane and Peterson. A week later, the Dawson Nug- get reported that the Dawson Min- ing Company had sold their interests to the Amalgamated Fishing 6: Mining Company of Alaska, and that in the following spring the two claims would be run together. lmmediately after the sale, Mac- Farlane and Peterson left by dog- sledge for Southern 'Alaska, on their way to the States. Maxwell re- mained as manager for the Amalga- mated interests. Funny, said Peterson, after they had taken the boat from Juneau, how we were so suspicions of that Max- well fellow. Maxwell can stay in Alaska if he wants to, MacFarlane replied. As for me, l'm going to settle down when l get back in the States. l've seen the last of Alaska. Me too, Peterson replied. l'm going to take life easy in my old age. The two stood by the rail, taking a last look at the shores of Alaska, slowly fading in the distance. Mac- Farlane was sobered at the sightg a tear glistened in his eye, and he felt a lump rise in his- throat. He felt as though he were leaving his home. Every one had treated him squarely. He recalled all the years he had spent there: the years of unsuccessful prospecting: the find: the paystreak it developed into: the success over the Amalgamated interests. Alaska had been good to him. She had given him wealth, and now he was going back to the States to spend it. He dreaded going, now, while a day before he had been eager to get back to the States. Peterson stopped in Minnesota. which had formerly been his home. but MacFarlane, having no home but the land of the North, went to New York. l-le had planned a quiet life, but the old spirit of chance, the gambling with fate, was still in his blood. l-le experimented in the stock market. At first there was pleasure in the game. A loss there meant nothing to him, but his gains were not infrequent. A streak of ill-luck struck him, and he suffered loss after loss. Then he decided to play the market to win. FIVE years passed, and MacFar- lane's hair was streaked with white. Five years in New York had left a larger mark on his face than ten years in Alaska had. He knew of the change also, and he felt im- measurably older. He longed for the open trail. Traveling did not help much, but only impressed upon him his longing for the North. He tired of gambling with stocks. For him there was only one game, and that the life of a prospector in the wilds of Alaska. There was but one thing that he desired to do, and that was to go back to Alaska and hit the trail for the open places. That was his home, and he felt it deeply. Money is a small factor in a man's life, MacFarlane told himself lt cannot bring him those things for which he is longing. l must go back. So MacFarlane decided to return, not to prospect for gold, but to find happiness: to find that which is the greatest factor in life. He had all the money he wanted, and

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Psse-90 THE LINCOLNIAN JUDO pack 'to his back as he could carry, he pushed back along the trail he had come. His food was low, and he must lose no time in reaching his first cache. He had 'too much time to think. As he pushed south, he reflected on his return to Alaska. He had gone far into the North, and was now re- turning, but not as he had expected. He had lost his dogs: most of his food was gone: part of his outfit lay beneath a heap of snow to the north: he had not found happiness. Day by day he watched with morbid interest the dwindling of his food. He could have eaten the dogs, he thot, if he had had them yet. He repeated over and over, I must reach the cachel l must reach the cache! All that he had left now was a little dried meat, hard as stone, about a pound of dried peas, a little pow- dered milk, and a little chocolate. He knew not how far he was from his cache. One day he covered twen- ty miles, and that night he ate lav- ishly of his scanty store. He needed the nourishment if he was to make progress on the following day. ln the morning he awoke early, and was soon on his way. I A few landmarks which he remembered he came to and passed, and he knew that his cache was not far. As dusk was falling he had a feeling that he could reach it before total darkness, so he hurried his steps. He was saved, he thot to himself. The North had been kind to him. He felt an ex- ultation which was nearer to joy than any he had felt for a long time. Yes, this was almost what he had wished for-something different from the everyday, commonplace life. He had gone thru a fight for his life, and had won. He eagerly climbed up to the big rock which sheltered the hole where his food was cached, and pulled away the canvas which covered it. But a sickness came over him as he saw. The meats were gone. The flour was mouldy. A few pounds of beans, a little tea, a small package of choc- olate, and some powdered milk was all that was left. MAC FARLANE stepped despair- ingly back from the cache. Dark- ness had enveloped the scene. His weariness, which he had forgotten in his haste to reach the cache, now returned to him doubly increased. Without eating a bite, he rolled him- self in his blankets and tried to sleep: but sleep did not come for a long while. ln the morning, he arose late, to find a threatening grayness over- spreading the sky. He well knew what it meant. He hurriedly pre- pared a scanty meal. Then the storm came. What could he do? His food was scarce, and the next cache a hundred miles or more toward Dawson. He had food enough for five days, he figured, if he ate as sparingly as he had in the past week. If he could cover the hundred miles in five days. he was sure that the cache would be undisturbed, for it was sheltered by nature from man and beast. He wait- ed for a lull in the blizzard, but all that day the wind blew fiercely, and the snow drifted in great piles on the ground. He was partly sheltered by the rocks where he had cached his food, but even then he had to wrap himself in his blankets and tarpaulin to keep from freezing. The next moming, he found the snow still falling ceaselessly, but the wind had subsided. He ate sparingly of his small store, then packed the rest in his blankets and, strapping the pack on his back, set forth. with dogged determination he kept steadi-