The Luck of the Kid

The silence of the night was broken by the sounds of youthful voices, and the gentle splash of the driving paddles. There was laughter, and the passing backwards and forwards of...

A belated sense of humour was stirring in Bill Wilder as he passed on to the quarters he had selected for his occupation. The room, he felt certain, was that usually occupied by...

The man was standing at the edge of the river landing gazing out across the broad waters as they drifted slowly by, a calm, gentle flood undisturbed by the rushing freshet of sp...

The Kid stood up from her task. She was no longer in her working clothes, and the translation was something almost magical. Her tall, slim, yet beautifully rounded figure was cl...

Bill Wilder and Chilcoot moved slowly up from the water’s edge. The outlook was grey and the wind was piercing. The river behind them was ruffled out of its usual oily calm, and...

Usak stood up from the camp fire that was more than welcome. He stood with his broad back to the shelter of low scrub to leeward of which the midday camp had been pitched, and g...

The Indian, Usak, and the Kid were standing in the great enclosure where three half-breed Eskimos were engaged in the operation of breaking young buck reindeer to the sled work...

The transformation was complete. It was beyond anything that had been dreamed of by those who had foreseen the thing that would happen. It had come with that startling rapidity...

It was wash-day. She was standing over a boiler of steaming water, frothing with soap suds and full of a laundry made up of the rainbow hues of a Joseph’s coat. The kitchen was...

It was less than ten weeks to the time when the first fierce rush of winter might be expected. Already the days were shortening down with their customary rush, and in a brief ti...

The sun blazed down on a silent world. The glare was merciless, and the heat, by reason of the weight of moisture saturating the atmosphere of the valley, was almost a torture.

Bill Wilder was squatting on a boulder under cover of the stone-built fortifications. His rifle was lying in an emplacement overlooking the waterway below. His grey eyes were pr...

Bill Wilder smiled in an abstracted, wry sort of fashion as he strode down the boarded sidewalk, which was no more than sufficient for its original purpose of saving pedestrians...

Each day the sun’s brief reign was growing less. There was perhaps six hours of daylight, fiercely bright when the snow clouds permitted, but otherwise grey and cold, and withou...

The grey dawn yielded to the many hues of the sunrise. For the moment a cloudless azure dome smiled down upon a world with a soft crystal-white carpet outspread. For days the te...

The towering Alaskan hills overshadowed the broad waterway of the Hekor River. From the level of the water the shores rose up monstrously. There were precipitate, sterile, encom...

Marty Le Gros lay sprawled on the ground. He had scarcely moved from the position in which he had fallen. Pri-loo, her handsome eyes aflame with fierce anger, was standing just...

Yes, Bill Wilder was well enough satisfied. Not a day, not an hour had been lost in his rush to the hills. He had spared no effort. And on the return he had driven hard with the...

Squat, broad, watchful Chilcoot Massy was standing on a crazy, log-built landing which the years had rotted and clad with dank mosses and leathery fungus. His deep-set eyes were...

It was still broad daylight for all the lateness of the hour. At this time of year darkness was unknown on the Hekor River. The sky was brilliant, with its cloudless summer blue...

“Man, I’d sooner they’d put out my eyes, or cut out my tongue. I’d sooner they’d set my body to everlasting torture. Look! Look there! Yes, and there! Oh, God! It’s everywhere t...

The missionary settled himself more comfortably in the hard chair he had turned from the supper table. He had set it in the shade of the printed cotton curtain that adorned the...

a day’s work I came to the conclusion that I’d opened up one of the worst stories, and one of the most important, that I’d found in years. I found story after story of these Eur...

The brilliant June night was like a midsummer day. The deathless sun knew no rest for all the Arctic world was wrapt in slumber. The stillness of it all, the perfect quiet; it w...

The sub-Arctic summer was at its height. The swelter of heat was of almost tropical intensity. No wisp of cloud marred the perfect purity of the steely blue sky, and no breath o...

I Placer City II The Cheechakos III Reindeer Farm IV Within the Circle V The House in the Valley of the Fire Hills VI The Eyes in the Night VII The Dream Hill VIII Bill Wilder R...

I North of “Sixty” II The Holocaust III The Planning of Le Gros IV Two Men of the North V The Luck of the Kid VI The Euralians VII The Vengeance of Usak VIII The Valley of the F...