Baldy of Nome Part 4

She was utterly hopeless. There was no use of a further waste of words with her on such matters.

George turned to Danny and Ben. They were discerning, and capable of grasping a dog man's point of view. "Then there's Queen, for one wheeler. You know we're only allowed three dogs, an' we got t' be mighty careful."

"I expect it's pretty near 's important t' git the right wheel dogs as 'tis a leader, ain't it, George? Bein' next t' the sled an' so close t'

the driver an' load, they allers seem t' kinda manage the business end o' things."

"That's right, Ben. That's why we got t' be sure o' gettin' good wheelers. In racin' there's no load, but it takes some managin' just the same t' keep the sled right on side hills an' goin' down steep slopes.

O' course in a short race I wouldn't get into the sled at all, an' on the runners at the back I can get my feet on the brake easy. But Father an' Matt say that you want your wheelers t' know just what their duties is if the brake gets out o' order, or any thin' goes wrong."

"Wheelers have to be clever, and strong and tractable then--rather a big order," murmured the Woman somewhat meekly, as one seeking information.

"Yes, ma'am," replied Danny politely, "all o' that, an' I was just wonderin' if Queen 'ud do for the place."

Queen, another present of Matt's to George, was a Gordon Setter with a strong admixture of native blood, and was hopeless as a regular team dog because of her high-strung and irritable disposition. Naturally nervous, she had become, with the advent of her first family, so fierce that it was dangerous for any one to approach her except George, and for him she cheerfully left her puppies to be of service in sled pulling.

"Oh, I think she'll do; when you know Queen an' like her she ain't so bad; an' besides not bein' able t' take any o' the real racers don't leave us much choice."

"Do you--don't you think you could use Baldy?" suggested Ben eagerly.

"He's no locomotive like McMillan, ner a flyin' machine like them Tolman dogs an' Irish an' Rover; but you've no idea how powerful an' willin' he is till you've tried him. Just give him a show, George. I'm 'most sure he'd make good. Moose Jones allers said he would."

There was a moment of serious consideration on the part of George, while Danny eyed Baldy critically, and remarked with discrimination, "Better take him; some o' these common lookin' dogs has the right stuff in 'em. If looks was everythin' I guess you an' me 'ud be sc.r.a.ppin' over Oolik Lomen or Margaret Winston, that new fox-hound Russ Downing just got from Kentucky. But you an' me know too much t' get took in by just good looks, George."

"All right, Ben. I'll take Baldy for the other wheel dog," said George as he ran his hand over Baldy's st.u.r.dy, muscular body. "He'll be able to show somethin' o' what's in him in this dash. Now we'd better see about Danny's team."

The Woman's observation that she thought Jemima, being black, would make a more artistic wheel-mate for Queen from the standpoint of color harmony, than would white-faced sable Baldy, was silently ignored, as was merited.

And so, in defiance of Art, and in spite of her evident prejudice against him, Baldy made one of George Allan's Racing Team.

Danny, after much discussion and deep thought, selected Judge for his leader, and Jimmie and Pete as wheelers. They were all steady and reliable, and made up a more dependable team than George's uncertain combination of youthful Spot, fiery Queen, and untried Baldy.

Ben was elated that the latter had been accepted by such experts as being worthy a place in the coming event. And as he left the Kennel to rush home to tell his mother the great news, he pictured Baldy in his coming role of wheeler in so distinguished a company. "I'm mighty glad I give him up when I did," he thought cheerfully. "Baldy is sure gettin'

his chanct now."

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IV

The Plodder

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CHAPTER IV

THE PLODDER

The last two weeks before the Alaska Juvenile Race, as the Nome Kennel Club had announced it, were busy ones, not only for the boys who were to actually take part in it, but for all of their friends as well. For those who had not teams for the event had more than likely loaned a dog, a sled or a harness to one of the contestants, and consequently felt a deep personal interest in all incidents connected with the various entries.

To Ben Edwards the time was full of diversions, for every afternoon on his way home from school he stopped at the Kennel to curry and brush Baldy or help George and Danny in the care of the other dogs whose condition was of such moment now.

When George felt that he should give Spot special training to fit him for his new position as leader, or took Queen out under the strict discipline he knew would be necessary to prepare her for the ordeal, he would ask Ben to hitch Baldy to one of the small sleds and give him a run.

Baldy's nature had always expressed itself best in action, and Ben was delighted with the ease with which he adjusted himself to serious sled work. There were no more romps, no more games, but his pace became even and steady, and he required no threats and no inducements to make him do his best.

"There's one thing about Baldy," admitted George freely, "you don't have t' jolly him along all the time. Why, even with Spot I have to say 's...o...b..rds' an' 'Rabbits' every little while when I want him to go faster, an' then you should see him mush. You know that's what Father says t' Tom, d.i.c.k 'an' Harry, an' Rover an' Irish. It's fine with any of 'em that's got bird-dog blood, an' you know Spot's part pointer. O'

course they don't have t' really see s...o...b..rds an' rabbits, but they just love t' hear about 'em, an' begin t' look ahead right away. An' if they do happen t' see 'em, they pretty nearly jump out o' their harness, they're so crazy for 'em."

"Baldy's part bird-dog, too," said Ben, "but I been watchin' him close, an' it ain't anythin' outside that makes him want t' go; it's more like he feels a sort o' duty about doin' the very best he kin fer any one that's usin' him. He's allers willin' t' do more'n his share; an' he's lots happier when he's workin' hard than when he's just lyin' idle in the stable, or bein' trotted out by Matt fer a walk."

"I wisht I was like that," muttered Danny gloomily. "That bein' happiest when you're workin' hard must be great; but I guess it's only dogs an'

mebbe some men that's like that. I don't know o' any boys that's got such feelin's."

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When the day of the Boys' Race arrived, a day clear, and beautiful, and only a degree or two below zero, it seemed as if all of Nome had decided to celebrate the momentous occasion; going in crowds to the starting place, which was a broad, open thoroughfare on the outskirts of town.

Those especially interested in the individual teams gathered at the various kennels to see the dogs harnessed and the young drivers prepared for their test as trailsmen in the coming struggle.

It was Sat.u.r.day, and a general holiday, and Ben's mother had given him permission to go to the Kennel early; so that when George and Dan arrived they found their dogs smooth and shining from the energetic grooming that Ben had given them.

"It's awful good of you, Ben," said George appreciatively. "Danny an' me came in plenty o' time t' do it ourselves, an' Matt said he'd help us too; an' now you've got 'em lookin' finer'n silk. I'll bet even Father'll say they're as fine as a Sweepstakes Team, an' he's mighty partic'lar, I can tell you. But I don't see how you got Queen t' stand for it."

"I talked to 'er jest the way you do, an' then walked straight up to 'er so's she'd see I wasn't afeared. Moose Jones says it's no use tryin' t'

do anything with a dog that knows you're scared. He told me the reason your father made a good dog out o' Jack McMillan was because he wasn't afeared of him, an' give the dog an even break in the terrible fight they had."

"Father always does that," responded George proudly. "He believes you got t' show a dog once for all that you're master of him at his very best. If you tie a dog o' McMillan's spirit, an' beat him t' make him obey, he always thinks he hadn't a fair chance. But if you can show him that he can't down you, no matter how good a sc.r.a.p he puts up, he'll respect you an' like you the way Jack does Dad."

"I don't believe me an' Queen'd ever have any trouble now," observed Ben thoughtfully. "Some way I guess we kinda understand each other better'n we did before."

"Well, it sure shows you got courage," exclaimed Dan admiringly. "I wouldn't touch that snarlin' brute o' George's, not if I could win this race by it, an' you know what I'd do fer that." He examined Judge, Jimmie, and Pete, with profound satisfaction. They were compactly built, of an even tan color, short haired, bob-tailed, and all about the same size, being brothers in one litter. Their st.u.r.dy legs suggested strength and their intelligent faces spoke of amiability as well as alertness.

They were indeed worthy sons of the fleet hound mother--Mego--whose puppies rank so high in the racing world beyond the frozen sea. "They just glisten, Ben. You must 'a' worked hard t' get 'em lookin' as smooth an' shinin' as the fur neck-pieces the girls wear."

"O' course I wanted t' git Baldy ready fer his first race; an' doin'

little things fer the other dogs is about the only way I kin pay everybody round here fer all they're doin' fer him."

Baldy was fast learning not to despise the detail that had made the new life so irksome before he realized how necessary it is in a large Kennel; and he now stood patiently waiting for his harness, while long discussions took place as to the adjustment of every strap, and the position of every buckle.

"Scotty" and Matt had come in to be ready with counsel and service, if necessary; then the Allan girls and many of the children from the neighborhood arrived, and later the Woman appeared with the Big Man whom Baldy some way a.s.sociated invariably with her, and a yellow malamute whom Baldy invariably a.s.sociated with him.

The Big Man always spoke pleasantly to the dogs, and had won Baldy's approval by not interfering--as did the Woman--in Kennel affairs; and the malamute--the Yellow Peril, as the Woman had named him--was plainly antagonistic to the Racers, at whom he growled with much enthusiasm. And so Baldy was glad to see the Big Man and the Peril amongst the acquaintances and strangers who were thronging into the place.

George brought out a miniature racing sled--his most prized possession--and a perfect reproduction of the one "Scotty" used in the Big Races, being built strongly, but on delicate lines. Danny pulled another, only a trifle less rakish, beside it. They were conversing in low tones. "We got pretty nearly half an hour t' wait, Dan, an' it's fierce t' have all these people that don't know a blame thing about racin' standin' round here givin' us fool advice. Why, if we was t' do what they're tellin', we'd be down an' out before we reached Powell's dredge on Bourbon Creek. Most of 'em don't know any more 'bout dogs 'n I do 'bout--'bout--"