Baldy of Nome Part 7

CHAPTER V

THE WOMAN, THE RACERS, AND OTHERS

Even after the boys' race, when George and Dan often singled him out for special use, and the joy of a run with Ben Edwards was almost an inevitable part of the day's program, there were still a number of matters that were distinctly trying to Baldy.

He could not, for one thing, quite figure out the Woman, nor reconcile himself to her constant presence and aimless wanderings about the place.

When "Scotty" and Matt, or even Danny and George came in, it was for some evident purpose; when the boy appeared, it was to see him exclusively, but it was different with her.

She apparently loved all of the dogs, but she had no idea of discipline, and casually suggested all sorts of foolish and revolutionary privileges for them that would have meant ruin in no time.

She held the tiniest puppies in her lap when she should have known it was not good for them, spent hours playing with the young dogs with no attempt at training; and he could not forget that she had tried, the first day he had ever met her, to drag him ignominiously into her sled.

Even Ben's evident friendliness toward her did not overcome Baldy's disapproval, though he frequently went with them for long walks which would have been far more agreeable could he have been with the boy alone. She quite monopolized his chum, talking so earnestly that the dog was almost ignored, and could only trot along with the consolation that Ben shared was better than Ben absent.

Then, too, she was not in the least discriminating, and told Tom, who perhaps had as many faults as any member of the team, that he had an "angel face"; spoke of d.i.c.k and Harry, clever imitators of their brother's misdeeds, as "The Heavenly Twins"; and alluded to Irish and Rover, gentle Irish Setters, as "Red Devils," which was so rankly unjust that Baldy, who knew not automobiles, was amazed at her stupidity. To Baldy the word "Devil" had an evil sound, for when he had heard it at Golconda it was generally a.s.sociated with a kick or a blow. She even ostentatiously walked past the chained dogs sometimes, carrying fluffy Jimmie Gibson, the baby blue fox from the Kobuk, which was tantalizing to a degree. But when she let Jack McMillan put his paws on her shoulders, and lay his big head against her cheek, calling him a "perfect lamb" or a "poor dear martyr," in a tone that betrayed affectionate sympathy, Baldy turned away in disgust.

As a matter of fact these attentions and endearments were exceedingly unwise, for they were invariably directed toward the very dogs who were most apt to over-value physical charm and ingratiating tricks of manner.

But there was one thing more objectionable still that could be laid at her door--she was constantly lowering the general tone of the Kennel.

The stables where the Racers were kept gave shelter, also, to a few others whose merits warranted their sharing in the special care bestowed upon the fleet-footed Sweepstakes Winners. The latter all carried themselves with a conscious dignity that befitted their fame and aspirations; but gradually Baldy noticed that through the Woman there were being introduced a number of ordinary strangers who made use of the place, and were housed and fed, till it began to look like a transient dog hotel.

She brought them because they were tired and hungry, lame, halt or blind; or worse still, just because they "seemed to like her." No reason was too trivial, no dog too worthless. Matt shamelessly upheld her, "Scotty" submitted, while Baldy sulkily glowered at these enc.u.mbrances who were more fit for the pound than the Allan and Darling Racing Stables. For Baldy had but one criterion; that of efficiency as the result of honest endeavor. And it was indeed a trial for a conscientious plodder to see the ease with which idle canines possessed themselves of the comforts and privileges that by right belong alone to those whose industry has earned them.

Had Baldy been a French Poodle, with little tufts of hair cut in circles round his ankles, and a kinky lock tied with a splashing bow over his eyes, he would probably, with delicate disdain, have thought of her as lacking in "esprit de corps." As it was, being but a blunt Alaskan, he growled rather sullenly when she came too near, and considered that she had no more dog-pride than an Eskimo; and Baldy's contempt for her could suggest no more scathing comparison.

There was no jealousy in his objections, for he now fairly gloried in the sensation that Kid, Irish or McMillan created when they were in the lead; and as the two latter at least were dogs that were coldly indifferent to him, this was surely a test of his unselfishness.

He was perfectly willing, also, to welcome "cla.s.sy" dogs, as George and Dan called them, like Stefansson, Lipton, or dainty Margaret Winston, from Kentucky. He even understood there were dogs, neither Workers nor Racers, who had gained a kind of popular distinction that was recognized by both the human and canine population of the City; and while it was impossible for him to comprehend the _reason_, he accepted the _fact_ philosophically.

There was, for instance, Oolik Lomen, who was born on Amundsen's ship the "Gjoa" when on the voyage that resulted in the discovery of the Northwest Pa.s.sage. Possibly on account of his celebrated birthplace, or because of his unusual appearance, Oolik was haughty to the verge of insolence; and to Baldy he represented the culmination of all the charming but useless graces of the idle rich. He did nothing but lie on the Lomen porch on a soft rug, or wander about with a doll in his mouth, much as a certain type of woman lolls through life carrying a lap dog.

Then there was the tramp Nomie, the pet of the Miners' Union, and the Fire Department. This fox terrier was a constant attendant at all important affairs of the town--social or political--at parades, christenings, weddings, and even funerals. At concerts or at the theatre he walked out upon the stage, and waited quietly near the wings till the program was finished. He went to church quite regularly, but was non-sectarian, and was just as apt to appear at the Eskimo Mission Chapel as at St. Mary's when the Bishop preached.

Rarely did he fail to be at all Council Meetings, informal receptions, and formal b.a.l.l.s. At these he was untiring, and would select a couple for each dance and follow them through the mazes of the waltz and one-step with great dexterity; visiting between times with his many acquaintances.

The knowledge that Nomie a.s.sisted at every fire, and at all of the drills of the Life Saving Crew on the beach made Baldy feel that these social diversions were only an outlet for abundant vitality, since there were not fires and wrecks enough to keep him busy; and a poor little fox terrier, no matter _how_ ambitious, is debarred by his size from the n.o.ble sport of racing, or the more prosaic business career of freighting.

So it really seemed, on the whole, that Baldy was exceedingly liberal in his estimate of dogs in general. And it was only his desire for a high standard in his own Kennel that prompted his aversion to those waifs and strays that she collected; who, of no possible use, were neither professional beauties like Oolik, nor society favorites like Nomie, and so really had no claim to any sort of recognition.

Neither did Baldy, because of his new a.s.sociations and ambitions, gauge his opinions of all dogs by racing tests alone. He still believed implicitly in the dignity of labor; and his early residence amongst freighters had enabled him to recognize the fact that endurance and good common dog-sense are often of more value, even in a racing team, than speed and mere pride of carriage.

In the occasional intervals when no feminine presence upset the calm and system of his surroundings, there were periods when Baldy watched intently the habits and characteristics of the other dogs, and tried to fit himself to become a candidate for the Racing Team.

In this he was a.s.sisted by the boy, who was just as carefully studying Allan's methods with his dogs, and putting them in practice every time he took Baldy out for exercise. One was as eager for improvement as the other, and "Scotty" and the Woman often remarked the unflagging energy both displayed toward that end.

"Too bad that Ben's efforts are wasted on a dog that will never be much to boast of, at best. He has strength and patience, but that is about all. I believe, like George, that he lacks spirit."

Of course there had been no dramatic incidents in his life like those of Jack McMillan's; he was no paragon like Kid; nor had he manifested the marvelous intelligence of old Dubby. But on the other hand, there was really nothing tangible so far in his career to make her feel that he was incapable of development.

"You're wrong about Baldy," said "Scotty" thoughtfully. "I have been watching him ever since the Juvenile Race; and he has certain latent qualities that will make a good general utility dog of him for even a racing team. He may not prove a leader, but he's dependable, not apt to lose his head and stampede, as do some of the more spirited ones. He'll do his modest part yet, in a big event."

"Well, you'll have to show me," exclaimed the Woman, whose speech was now and then tinged unconsciously by her close fellowship with the Wonder Workers.

Even Dubby's favorable notice was now frequently attracted toward Baldy; and the fact that he was aspiring to belong to the Racing Team was mitigated to a certain extent in the venerable huskie's sight by a puppy-hood spent amongst the working cla.s.ses. He was not born to an exalted position, a natural aristocrat, like Tom, d.i.c.k or Harry; and would not, as did they, glory in it ostentatiously. But if it came, he would accept it with a solemn sense of obligation to do his best anywhere it pleased his master to place him.

Unlike the Tolman brothers, McMillan, Irish and Rover, he did not curry favor by the happy accident of birth, beauty, or personal magnetism; and so Dubby began to bestow upon Baldy, for his modesty and industry, an approbation not accorded by him to many of the others in the Kennel. And Dubby's opinion of a new dog was worth much, for "Scotty" Allan himself respected the experience and sagacity that governed it.

Possessed of the colorings and markings of his wolf forbears, as well as their keen instinct in trail emergencies, Dubby combined with this the faithful, loving nature of the dog branch of the family.

In his merest infancy he had given promise of unusual ability--a promise more than fulfilled.

When hardly more than three months old he had learned the orders "Gee,"

"Haw," "Mush" and "Whoa" perfectly. And he was beginning to think a little for himself when the rest of the litter were still undecided whether "Gee" meant to turn to the right paw side, or the left paw side; and were hardly convinced that "Mush" was "Go on" and not a terse invitation to breakfast.

His later accomplishments were many. He could pick up an uncertain trail when concealed by three feet of soft, freshly fallen snow; he could tell if ice was thick enough to carry the weight of a loaded sled, when the most seasoned trailsman was deceived, and he could scent a camp for four or five miles with the wind in the right direction. Never but once in his life had he been known to take the wrong route to a given point.

Then he mistook the faint glimmer of Venus, as she dimly showed above the dark horizon, for the lantern on the ridge-pole of a road house; which was poetic, but misleading, and proves that even dogs can come to grief through too much star gazing.

He was always driven "loose" on the rare and gala occasions when, at his own plainly expressed desire, he was placed again in temporary service.

With that liberty he made it his business to see that no dog was shirking. A glance at a slack strap was enough to betray the idler; and an admonishing nip on the culprit's ear or flank was the cause of a reformation that was sudden and abject for a while at least.

The only punishment that had ever been meted out to Dubby for some indiscretion, or an act of insubordination, was to hitch him up with the rest of the team. There were no depths of humiliation greater, no shame more poignant, and for days after such an ordeal he would show a brooding melancholy that almost made the Woman weep in sympathy.

Now, pensioned and retired, with a record of over thirty thousand miles in harness to his credit, he lived a delightful and exclusive existence in his own apartments over the barn.

As he had taken Baldy into his favor, so too he included Ben in his rather limited list of favorites; and the boy never wearied of hearing from "Scotty" and the Woman their many tales of the huskie's remarkable achievements.

"Even if he ain't a Racer," was the child's admiring a.s.sertion, "everybody in the whole North knows Dub, and what he's done. I hope,"

wistfully, "that some day people'll speak o' Baldy jest like that."

"You can hardly expect that, Ben! Think of the hundreds and hundreds of good dogs that are never known outside of their own kennels. Baldy is obedient and willing, but it takes something extraordinary, really brilliant, or dramatic, to give a dog more than a local reputation. Of course there are a few, but very few, who have won such distinction.

John Johnson's Blue Eyed Kolma was a wonder for his docile disposition and staying qualities. You can't match our Kid for all round good work, nor Irish for speed. And Jack McMillan--"

"I don't believe I'd specify McMillan's claims to fame, or shall we say notoriety," observed "Scotty," with a twinkle in his eye. "Then," he resumed, "there were Morte Atkinson's Blue Leaders, that Percy Blatchford drove in the second big race. When we met at Last Chance on the way back, Blatchford nearly cried when he told me how those setters had saved his hands from freezing. He had turned them loose to rest and run behind at will, knowing they would catch up at the next stop. In some way he had dropped the fur gloves he wore over his mittens, when he took them off to adjust a sled pack, and did not miss them for some time, until he ran into a fierce blizzard. Of course he could not go back for them, and he feared his hands would become useless from the cold. He was in a pretty bad fix, when up came the Blue Leaders, almost exhausted, but each with a glove in his mouth."

"Oh, that was fine," murmured Ben.

"Give me bird-dog stock every time," continued Allan, "with a native strain for strength and trail instincts. It's a combination that makes our Alaskans just about right, to my idea."

"Naturally I feel that our half-breeds are best, too. But I do wish,"

regretfully, "that they could all be the same sort of half-breeds--to make them more uniform as to size and style. With Kid and Spot part pointer, Irish and Rover part setter, Jack McMillan verging on the mastiff, and all the rest of them part something else, don't you think it looks the least little bit as if we had picked them up at a remnant sale?"

She caught sight of "Scotty's" face, full of shocked surprise.

"Don't say it," she exclaimed quickly; "both Ben and I know perfectly well that 'handsome is as handsome does.' I learned it in my copy-book, ages and ages ago. And it's true that they are the greatest dogs in all the world, but they don't quite look it. Of course the year you won with Berger's 'Brutes,' with that awkward, high-shouldered native, Mukluk, in the lead, I learned that looks do not go very far in Arctic racing. But certainly Fink's 'Prides' in their gay trappings of scarlet and gold did seem more to suit the role of Winners when Hegness came in victorious with them in the first race."