The Boy With the U. S. SurveyRolt-Wheeler, Francis
General
The Boy With the U. S. Survey
Rolt-Wheeler, Francis
Geological Survey (U.S.) -- Juvenile fiction
So the party proceeded to lighten their only canoe. Everything which was
of weight and not absolutely essential was cached and a cairn built
over it, not with any intention of coming back, but so that it should be
available if any other traveler should ever pass that way. Since it was
so difficult to transport provisions and camp conveniences at such a
distance, it was felt that it would be sheer wickedness to let anything
be destroyed.
"But people might steal it!" exclaimed the boy.
"To take what you need isn't stealing in this country," answered the
geologist. "You are supposed to help yourself if you are in need, and
you are expected to give to the uttermost if you find any one else in
need. This part of the world is too far away from civilization for any
'dog eat dog' methods. Here, being uncivilized, men are more or less
charitably disposed toward each other."
"That's a cynical speech, Rivers," said the topographer.
"Cynical or not, it's true," the chief answered.
"Sure, it's true," commented Magee, who had been listening. "If I'm
hungry in a big modern city, and I open a man's door, walk to his
pantry, feed myself and a dozen hungry men; and what's more, walk away
with enough provisions for a month, where would I land?"
"In jail," said Roger.
"Sure, an' I would. But that's what you can do out here."
"Well," said the chief, "I wish I were sure of being able to do it at
Nigaluk."
Travel, however, was very different in the one over-loaded canoe, and
Rivers was not willing to allow any chances to be taken. The slightest
evidence of shoal, rapid, or boulders meant wading. For the next three
days, therefore, two men, each at one of the bows of the canoe, waded
down the stream, finding out, with their shins mainly, where were
boulders near enough to the surface of the water to strike the canoe.
On the second day of this sort of work, moreover, the temperature
dropped fifty-two degrees in about six hours, and from a hot sun and
humid air with a thermometer at eighty-eight degrees at noon, by dusk it
was only four degrees above freezing with a driving gale and a stinging
rain. While many camp conveniences had been left behind to lighten the
canoe, a strip of canvas had been retained, and this was propped up with
willow sticks in such wise as to keep some of the rain off.
But through the night the gale howled from the north, and the rain drove
in with the sharpness of a whip-lash, so that the first faint light of
dawn found every one ready for the start, as at least it was warmer
moving about than lying under that pitiless sky. The only gleam of
comfort was that it gave one day's respite from the eternal mosquitoes.
The second day the norther abated, and fair weather returned, bringing
with it, of course, the close personal attention of the mosquitoes of
the lower tundra, though these were rapidly thinning out.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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