Today Kah-Chucte and Gowhee, whom I commanded to
break trail, forgot they were men, and like frightened children
ran away.
'True, they forgot; so let us forget. But hereafter, let them
remember. If it should happen they do not...' He touched his
rifle carelessly, grimly. 'Tomorrow they shall carry the flour
and see that the white man Joe lies not down by the trail. The
cups of flour are counted; should so much as an ounce be wanting
at nightfall... Do ye understand? Today there were others that
forgot. Moose Head and Three Salmon left the white man Joe to lie
in the snow. Let them forget no more. With the light of day shall
they go forth and break trail. Ye have heard the law. Look well,
lest ye break it.' Sitka Charley found it beyond him to keep the
line close up. From Moose Head and Three Salmon, who broke trail
in advance, to Kah-Chucte, Gowhee, and Joe, it straggled out over
a mile. Each staggered, fell or rested as he saw fit.
The line of march was a progression through a chain of irregular
halts. Each drew upon the last remnant of his strength and
stumbled onward till it was expended, but in some miraculous way
there was always another last remnant.
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