CHINA MAIL
FRIDAY
MUSE
As the sharp command
rang out the powerful huskies. banched their shoulders and dug their paws at the iron-hard ground. The runners of the sledge churned feathery powder from the frozen trial, and the breath of the man running behind rose cloud in front of his face.
"We better make camp in an- other hour, Harry," said the wounded man on the sledge.
in a
Right, Sarge. The trail's hold- ing well. We must be gaining on him.
"Don't keep it up too late, and overshoot him in the dark. Ham- mond's a slippery swine, and with that woman along he won't be tak- ing any chances or missing 'em."
-
SUPPLEMENT
8, 1938
A MOUNTIE'S CODE
to bring in Charles Hammond, a trapper who had shot a man in cold blood at Squaw Crossing. Hammond had got nearly a day's start of the two Mounties, and had taken his wife along. He had stolen the dog-team of the man he had murdered, and had struck north-east, into the heart of the wild and inhospitable Salt River country. The two Moun- ties had kept to the trail day and night, and caught up with the hunted man at Spindle Neck. But Hammond bad forced his wife to draw the Mounties' fire, and had shot down Brough from ambush.
That should have given him the game. But young Cameron came of a hardy breed. He had tend-
him on the sledge, and sped in pursuit.
Three days he had held the trail Now he was nearly all out,
Sergeant Brough, of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, held his breath to prevent a groan escaped his wounded sergeant, placed ing him. He knew Harry Cam- eron, fresh from Ottawa to the Northern wastes, would be hay- ing a tough time, trailing a killer and attending a wounded com- panion. But Cameron was shap- ing well; he had grit, and the ser- geant meant to ease up for him as much as possible. No good, he held, breaking a fresh man while he was fresh.
The dogs were tired, but they kept up the pace for another half- hour. Cameron, almost asleep on his feet, loped along like a man in a trance, from time to time lifting a hand to brush away the frost caking on his face.
40.K, Harry. Make camp now” muttered Brough. “Mush another half-mile east towards the. Salt River. You'll get into that pine country, and find some dry kind- ling."
An hour later Harry Cameron was boiling soup over 2 roaring fire. He had fed the dogs and prepared as comfortable a bed for the wounded sergeant as their
two sleeping-beds would allow. He took a panikin of the savoury- smelling broth to the sergeant.
"This'll put some warmth inte you, sarge," he grinned, the fight from the fire flicking over young face.
his
"Fine, Harry. This'll make a new man of me.”
Cheery words, but neither man was fooled. Hammond's bullet had shattered Brough's thigh, and he was out of the running, a dead weight on the hands of the young Mountie tenderfoot. Nine months in the Alberta Provincial Police and six months as a Mountie pro- betioner at Ottawa had not alto- gether prepared the new recruit to Fort Marsh, on the Salt River, for the rigours of a Northland
manhurt.
Young Cameron's - dream of 12 deshing life dressed in scarlet and blue was shattered. He had not worn his scarlet coat since he had "arrived at Fort Marsh. -- Woollen. mackinaw and skins, furs. and sledge boots, had replaced the spick-and-span uniform, the low- brimmed Stetson and bright spurs.
As he sat crouched before the fire, watching night descend over the frozen wast of the Salt River country, and listened to the moan- ing of a-keen wind through the pines and the low, baleful howl- ing of the dogs, he thought over the bewildering events of the past few days on the trail
He and Brough had been sent
Short Story
looked over the younger man's grim-set face. "Thinking of lear ing me there?”
"Tes
I guess that's what's in my mind, sarge. I can make bet- ter time alone.”
There was a short silence. "Then you want to- on ****
"Sure. I'm not walking out on you, sarge, because it's new coun- try: Guess I can make out at that. It'll be a day's trail behind I'll make that up. He's got the woman with him.”
"It's a bad country, Harry.”. "Sure. So's anywhere north of forty-nine. IT change the team at Weldon, and they can radio for a 'plane. Won't delay me much.”:
So it was settled.
Cameron harnessed up the team early next morning, and ploughed steadily along west to Camp Weldon, reaching it goo2
By Landon Grant
Author of "Bustlers' Gulch," etc.
and he knew Brough was in worse shape. He feared gangrene would set in any hour, but neither Brough, nor he mentioned. the probability.
He was working in harness with a man who had for years live ed by the proudest code upheld by any body of men on earth-**A Mountie always gets his man." Harry Cameron wasn't letting himself or his sergeant down now. But as he sat over the fire he fac ed the alternatives: lose Ham- mond by carrying the wounded man, or leave Brough, with all his experience of the country and its trails, and take a chance of coming through alone-and get- ting Hammond.
When he had finished his meal his mind was made up. He cross- ed to where the wounded. man lay, his eyes closed.
"Asleep, sarge?" "No, Harry."
Brough opened his eyes.
"I've been thinking over our position, sarge. How far is Camp. Weldon ?""
"Half a day's run. A good half- day, Harry." The sergeant's eyes
after midday, by which time Brough was unconscious. A doctor in the trappers" camp told him he had arrived only just in time, Brough was in a bad way. After resting for a couple of hours, and learning that a radio message had been put through to Fort Marsh. for a 'plane to be sent. Cameron struck the eastward trail again.
Brough regained consciousness. just before he left with his fresh team of dogs.
"Watch your step, Harry, ad- vised the sergeant in a weak voice. “Hammond is a killer, and as tricky as a wounded wolver- ine. If you lose out on the trail,- make dead north along the Salt to Brankson. You can get in touch with headquarters from there"
"I be OK, sarge. Keep your pecker up, and don't down, to much hooch when you get back. I'll be thirsty when I come in with Hammond."
it'
"Good luck,-Harry, you'll need
Cameron never knew how bad- ly until thirty-six hours later, when he found he had lost the
Taken during the match between the when the latter won by 3 goals to 2. and Miss M. Booker.
photo).
left to
trail and was running blind for the Salt River to get his bear- ings His next mishap was one of his dogs going lame He shot the
animal, and went on. Reaching the Salt, he turned north, as Brough had advised, and a day later struck an Indian camp. There he found news of Hammond.
He was pearly two days be- hind the fugitive, he learned. Hammond, with his wife, was heading for Brankson, but he had had trouble with his team Too free use of the whip on a strange team had caused a fight, and he had been able to buy only one to replace them when he struck the Indian camp..
Gameron took heart.
Things were evening up. They had the same size team now, and although Hammond had a fairly long start he was travelling hear- ier, with his wife
That night as he lay watching the frosty stars over the frozen Salt River encampment of the In- dian hunters, the young man thought of Vera Hammond. He had first seen her at Spindle Neck, when Hammond had made her run the gauntlet of the pursuers' fire, to enable him to work round be- hind them and shoot Brough. He had been surprised. She was young and good-looking, and afterwards he had questioned -Brough about to her. The veteran had hid bifle to tell him "save what was common gossip as far south as Fort Marsh Hammond had worked a claim north with the girl's father, and had brought pressure on the latter to make him agree to his daughter marry- ing the younger partner. After- wards the claim had petered out, and Royton, the girl's father, had tried to get south alone. He had not come through
Since then Hammond's wife had been only an encumbrance to the adventurer, and it was generally known that he treated her in a
that made an ordinary man's gorge rise. Even now he was taking her along as a shield.
Cameron fell into an uneasy sleep, and dreamed fitfully, and through his easy dreams fitted the white fac he woman
was Char till death
Again (Co
who
team (Brawn Cup Champions) and the Junior Rest "Mra.“ Slater,” Ming D. McCzw, Miss J. Broadbridge