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Stopping suddenly, he looked back and discovered that they were driverless.
He realized that such halts were most unwise; but the team without Allan was as a ship without a Captain and to Baldy there was but one thing to do--to find "Scotty" at all hazards.
For an instant there was danger of a mutiny amongst the dogs. Tom, d.i.c.k and Harry tacitly agreed that it was a marvelous chance to make that s...o...b..rd joke a charming reality; there was a stirring of McMillan's fiery blood, for he still admitted but one source of control; a plump fluffy hare, scurrying by within range of Spot's young eyes inspired him with a desire to give chase, as once again he quite forgot the grave importance of filling a position in a racing team.
But Baldy, knowing that the time for action had come, that his supremacy as a leader must be acknowledged, and at once, firmly held his ground.
Turning, he faced them fearlessly. There was a low ominous growl, a smouldering light in his strange, somber eyes, a baring of his sharp white fangs. Yet it was something else, a something in the very nature of the dog, in his steadfast spirit, his indomitable will, that made the others feel in some subtle, final way that they must obey him. So when he swung round they followed him as unswervingly as they would have followed Kid.
Far away in the whiteness, Baldy saw a black spot toward which he sped with mad impatience. It grew more and more distinct, till, beside it, he saw that it was his master, lying pale, motionless and blood-stained in the trail. From a deep gash on his head a crimson stream oozed and froze, matting his hair and the fur on his parka.
Baldy stopped short, quivering with an unknown dread. There was something terrifying in the tense body, so still, so mute. He licked the pallid face, the cold hands, and placed a gentle paw upon the man's breast, scratching softly to see if he could not gain some response.
There was no answer to his loving appeal; and throwing back his head, there broke from him the weird, wild wail of the Malamute, his inheritance from some wolf ancestor. The other dogs joined the mournful chorus, and then, as it died away, he tried again and again to rouse his silent master.
Moment after moment pa.s.sed, the time seemed endless; but finally the warm tongue and the insistent paw did their work; for there was a slight movement, a flicker of the eyelids, and then "Scotty" lifted himself upon his elbow and spoke to them.
He was hopelessly confused. What was he doing in the snow, in the bitter cold, soaked in blood, and with his team beside him? Where was Kid?
Then it all came back to him; he remembered he was in a race--the Solomon Derby, and Kid was dead. That with Baldy in the lead they had gone ahead of the other teams at a terrific speed, when he heard something snap. Thinking it might be a runner, he had leaned over the side of the sled to look; there was a crushing blow, and he recalled no more until he felt Baldy's hot breath, and an agonizing pain in his temple.
Gazing about, he saw the cause of the mishap--an iron trail stake half concealed by a drift, now red with his blood. All around, as far as the eye could reach, stretched the vast snowy plains that merged into the purple shadows of the distant mountains, outlined in dazzling beauty against the azure sky. There was no sign of the other teams. He could not tell how long he had been unconscious--whether minutes or hours; he only realized that he had never entered Solomon.
Weakly he stumbled to his feet and fell helplessly into the sled. At a word Baldy darted ahead, and Allan, wiping the blood from his eyes, saw they were traveling in the wrong direction, toward the wireless tower at Port Safety. In some way he dimly realized that the dogs had turned on the trail. Given the order, Baldy wheeled instantly, and dashed forward with no slackening of his former speed, though "Scotty" was lying inert and useless, an unusual and unexpected burden.
But, wounded and shaken, "Scotty's" spirit was still undaunted; and uncertain of anything save that you are never beaten till the race is over, Allan inspired Baldy to do his willing best.
The bitter disappointment of Kid's death was fast yielding to amazement at Baldy's unsuspected fleetness. Trustworthy he had always been, and obedient and faithful--but his pace now was a revelation. There was yet a chance.
"On, Baldy; on boys." And away they flew till the roofs of Solomon loomed on the horizon, directly ahead.
Solomon at last. At the end of the one short street was a group of Kennel Club officials, and the entire population of the place, ready to welcome the coming and speed the parting racers.
To his intense surprise Allan learned that his was the first team in, his delay having evidently been but a brief one. He resisted all entreaties that he should have medical attention. "There's no trouble at all," he maintained stoutly, "so long as my cap is frozen to the wound.
Of course I am a little faint, and dizzy, but that will pa.s.s in the fresh air. Just water the dogs and see that they're all right, will you?" And resting only the five minutes that are obligatory for the signing of papers, he was again on his way, as Fred Ayer came into view, closely followed by Johnson.
Returning, it seemed as if Kid himself could not have excelled Baldy in the management of the team--all of his latent powers developing to meet the great demands made upon him. He was proving himself indeed a leader.
The news of the mishap had been telephoned to Nome; and the usual enthusiasm over the first arrival was turned into an ovation for the plucky and popular little Scotchman.
With the loss of the best dog in the Kennel, on the eve of the race, and an obscure, untried dog in the lead; with a stunning blow that had left him alone and senseless on the trail he was still victorious, to the admiration of all Nome.
The excitement was intense as the cheering throngs closed in upon the dogs and their driver, ready and eager to give their hearty greetings and unstinted applause.
[Ill.u.s.tration: AN OVATION FOR THE PLUCKY LITTLE SCOTCHMAN]
Moose Jones and Ben hurried toward the winners, both overjoyed at the success of Allan and their favorite, Baldy.
"Some dog, Baldy o' Golconda, ain't he, Mart?" was Jones's exultant comment as they pa.s.sed Barclay, who stood regarding the heroes with ill-concealed contempt.
"Some accident!" retorted Mart. "There'll be a fine day,"
belligerently, "when 'Scotty' Allan'll find out that there dog's a fake, a reg'lar quitter. Jest now he's bluffed you all inter thinkin' him a wonder; but you wait an' he'll give himself away yet. He was ornery as a pup, an' he's ornery as a dog. You can't make a silk purse outen a sow's ear, an' I tell you straight you can't make a Sweepstakes Winner out o'
Baldy o' Golconda, no matter what he done in this here measly Solomon hike."
"Well, we'll see, Mart."
"You've won a great race," exclaimed the Woman as she came forward with the Big Man, and grasped "Scotty's" hand warmly; "a great race, and against heavy odds."
But "Scotty," looking down on Baldy with grat.i.tude and pride, replied simply:
"No, the credit all belongs to good old Baldy here; it is his race, not mine."
Then the Woman, kneeling in the snow beside the leader, with her arms about him, said softly, "It was wonderful, Baldy, simply wonderful, the way you saved the day."
And so the Solomon Derby was over, and Baldy had made good.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
XI
One Summer
[Ill.u.s.tration]
[Ill.u.s.tration]
CHAPTER XI
ONE SUMMER
The winning of the Solomon Derby marked a new era in Baldy's life. His home-coming had been made both joyous and miserable by the various attentions he had received. With his sensitive, shrinking nature, it was a sore trial to be the center of attraction, and the object of constant discussion. "Scotty" had warmly commended his record to Ben Edwards, which was compensation even for the Woman's newly awakened and frankly expressed admiration. She had almost wept on his neck, which was embarra.s.sing for an undemonstrative dog, and said he deserved a Carnegie Medal--whatever that was--though she suggested, practically, a large juicy beefsteak as an immediate compromise.
The neighbors conceded generously that it was more than they had expected of an "old grouch." George Allan and Danny Kelly, from out their superior wisdom in dog affairs, agreed that while improbable, it had never been impossible for a freighter to develop into a racer under favorable conditions. While most gratifying of all, Dubby came in to express, with strenuous waggings of his stubby but eloquent tail, his surprise and satisfaction that a member of a purely sporting fraternity had distinguished himself so highly; had acted, in fact, in a manner worthy of a dependable huskie. And Baldy, knowing that Dubby had himself and his unblemished career in mind, felt that this was indeed the climax of approval.
Gradually he was coming to realize that through his unremitting efforts to be of service, and because of real worth, there was an att.i.tude of kindly interest manifested toward him that had taken the place of the covert criticism and careless indifference that had once caused him so much sorrow.
"Now that he's led once," confided Ben to George and Dan, "I don't believe Baldy'll ever be satisfied again t' stay in the wheel. It seems t' me that every minute he's awake he's tryin' t' do better in his work.
That race kinda roused him in every way."
"He'll never have to stay in the wheel," observed "Scotty." "The Derby was a revelation to me in regard to Baldy. I confess frankly I didn't think he was capable of the ability he showed that day and," with a smiling glance toward the Woman, "there were those of less faith than mine who were completely won over."
"If you mean me," she rejoined, "you are quite right. I've apologized to Ben and Baldy every day since the Derby. I have even admitted that Baldy's legs are as good as Jack McMillan's, if not better. Could humility go further in making amends?"
And Baldy, who now saw the world through different and more friendly eyes, learned that even the Woman was not wholly lacking in a certain sense of discrimination as she had proved when she had felt the muscles of his st.u.r.dy body and spanned the width of his broad chest with unqualified approval.