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Though the Yukon still ran free； the eddy…ice was growing； and
each day saw the river dwindling to a slushy thread。 Save him who
has done the like； no man may know what she endured in traveling a
hundred miles on the rim…ice； nor may they understand the toil and
hardship of breaking the two hundred miles of packed ice which
remained after the river froze for good。 But Madeline was an Indian
woman； so she did these things； and one night there came a knock at
Malemute Kid's door。 Thereat he fed a team of starving dogs； put a
healthy youngster to bed； and turned his attention to an exhausted
woman。 He removed her ice…bound moccasins while he listened to her
tale； and stuck the point of his knife into her feet that he might see
how far they were frozen。
Despite his tremendous virility； Malemute Kid was possessed of a
softer； womanly element； which could win the confidence of a
snarling wolf…dog or draw confessions from the most wintry heart。
Nor did he seek them。 Hearts opened to him as spontaneously as flowers
to the sun。 Even the priest； Father Roubeau； had been known to confess
to him； while the men and women of the Northland were ever knocking at
his door… a door from which the latch…string hung always out。 To
Madeline； he could do no wrong； make no mistake。 She had known him
from the time she first cast her lot among the people of her
father's race； and to her half…barbaric mind it seemed that in him was
centered the wisdom of the ages； that between his vision and the
future there could be no intervening veil。
There were false ideals in the land。 The social strictures of Dawson
were not synonymous with those of the previous era； and the swift
maturity of the Northland involved much wrong。 Malemute Kid was
aware of this； and he had Cal Galbraith's measure accurately。 He
knew a hasty word was the father of much evil； besides； he was
minded to teach a great lesson and bring shame upon the man。 So
Stanley Prince； the young mining expert； was called into the
conference the following night as was also Lucky Jack Harrington and
his violin。 That same night； Bettles； who owed a great debt to
Malemute Kid； harnessed up Cal Galbraith's dogs； lashed Cal Galbraith；
Junior； to the sled； and slipped away in the dark for Stuart River。
II
'So； one… two… three； one… two… three。 Now reverse！ No； no！ Start up
again； Jack。 See… this way。' Prince executed the movement as one
should who has led the cotillion。
'Now； one… two… three； one… two… three。 Reverse！ Ah！ that's
better。 Try it again。 I say； you know； you mustn't look at your
feet。 One… two… three； one… two… three。 Shorter steps！ You are not
hanging to the gee…pole just now。 Try it over。 There！ that's the
way。 One… two… three； one… two… three。'
Round and round went Prince and Madeline in an interminable waltz。
The table and stools had been shoved over against the wall to increase
the room。 Malemute Kid sat on the bunk； chin to knees； greatly
interested。 Jack Harrington sat beside him； scraping away on his
violin and following the dancers。
It was a unique situation； the undertaking of these three men with
the woman。 The most pathetic part； perhaps； was the businesslike way
in which they went about it。 No athlete was ever trained more
rigidly for a coming contest； nor wolf…dog for the harness； than was
she。 But they had good material； for Madeline； unlike most women of
her race； in her childhood had escaped the carrying of heavy burdens
and the toil of the trail。 Besides； she was a clean…limbed； willowy
creature； possessed of much grace which had not hitherto been
realized。 It was this grace which the men strove to bring out and
knock into shape。
'Trouble with her she learned to dance all wrong；' Prince remarked
to the bunk after having deposited his breathless pupil on the
table。 'She's quick at picking up； yet I could do better had she never
danced a step。 But say； Kid； I can't understand this。' Prince imitated
a peculiar movement of the shoulders and head… a weakness Madeline
suffered from in walking。
'Lucky for her she was raised in the Mission；' Malemute Kid
answered。 'Packing； you know；… the head…strap。 Other Indian women have
it bad； but she didn't do any packing till after she married； and then
only at first。 Saw hard lines with that husband of hers。 They went
through the Forty…Mile famine together。'
'But can we break it？'
'Don't know。 Perhaps long walks with her trainers will make the
riffle。 Anyway； they'll take it out some； won't they； Madeline？'
The girl nodded assent。 If Malemute Kid； who knew all things； said
so； why it was so。 That was all there was about it。
She had come over to them； anxious to begin again。 Harrington
surveyed her in quest of her points much in the same manner men
usually do horses。 It certainly was not disappointing； for he asked
with sudden interest； 'What did that beggarly uncle of yours get
anyway？'
'One rifle； one blanket； twenty bottles of hooch。 Rifle broke。'
She said this last scornfully； as though disgusted at how low her
maiden…value had been rated。
She spoke fair English； with many peculiarities of her husband's
speech； but there was still perceptible the Indian accent； the
traditional groping after strange gutturals。 Even this her instructors
had taken in hand； and with no small success； too。
At the next intermission； Prince discovered a new predicament。
'I say； Kid；' he said； 'we're wrong； all wrong。 She can't learn in
moccasins。 Put her feet into slippers； and then onto that waxed floor…
phew！'
Madeline raised a foot and regarded her shapeless house…moccasins
dubiously。 In previous winters； both at Circle City and Forty…Mile；
she had danced many a night away with similar footgear； and there
had been nothing the matter。 But now… well； if there was anything
wrong it was for Malemute Kid to know； not her。
But Malemute Kid did know； and he had a good eye for measures； so he
put on his cap and mittens and went down the hill to pay Mrs。
Eppingwell a call。 Her husband； Clove Eppingwell； was prominent in the
community as one of the great Government officials。 The Kid had
noted her slender little foot one night； at the Governor's Ball。 And
as he also knew her to be as sensible as she was pretty； it was no
task to ask of her a certain small favor。
On his return； Madeline withdrew for a moment to the inner room。
When she reappeared Prince was startled。
'By Jove！' he gasped。 'Who'd a' thought it！ The little witch！ Why my
sister…'
'Is an English girl；' interrupted Malemute Kid； 'with an English
foot。 This girl comes of a small…footed race。 Moccasins just broadened
her feet healthily； while she did not misshape them by running with
the dogs in her childhood。'
But this explanation failed utterly to allay Prince's admiration。
Harrington's commercial instinct was touched； and as he looked upon
the exquisitely turned foot and ankle； there ran through his mind
the sordid list… 'One rifle； one blanket； twenty bottles of hooch。'
Madeline was the wife of a king； a king whose yellow treasure
could buy outright a score of fashion's puppets； yet in all her life
her feet had known no gear save red…tanned moosehide。 At first she had
looked in awe at the tiny white…satin slippers； but she had quickly
understood the admiration which shone； manlike； in the eyes of the
men。 Her face flushed with pride。 For the moment she was drunken
with her woman's loveliness； then she murmured； with increased
scorn； 'And one rifle； broke！'
So the training went on。 Every day Malemute Kid led the girl out
on long walks devoted to the correction of her carriage and the
shortening of her stride。 There was little likelihood of her
identity being discovered； for Cal Galbraith and the rest of the
Old…Timers were like lost children among the many strangers who had
rushed into the land。 Besides； the frost of the North has a bitter
t