Copyright 1915 by The Frank A. Munsey Company
This story appeared in The All-Story Cavalier for December 18, 1915
"North! North! To the north, Polaris. Tell the world—ah, tellthem—boy—The north! The north! You must go, Polaris!"
Throwing the covers from his low couch, the old man arose and stood, agiant, tottering figure. Higher and higher he towered. He tossed hisarms high, his features became convulsed; his eyes glazed. In histhroat the rising tide of dissolution choked his voice to a hoarserattle. He swayed.
With a last desperate rallying of his failing powers he extended hisright arm and pointed to the north. Then he fell, as a tree falls,quivered, and was still.
His companion bent over the pallet, and with light, sure fingers closedhis eyes. In all the world he knew, Polaris never had seen a humanbeing die. In all the world he now was utterly alone!
He sat down at the foot of the cot, and for many minutes gazed steadilyat the wall with fixed, unseeing eyes. A sputtering little lamp, whichstood on a table in the center of the room; flickered and went out. Theflames of the fireplace played strange tricks in the strange room. Intheir uncertain glare, the features of the dead man seemed to writheuncannily.
Garments and hangings of the skins of beasts stirred in the waveringshadows, as though the ghosts of their one-time tenants were strugglingto reassert their dominion. At the one door and the lone window thewind whispered, fretted, and shrieked. Snow as fine and hard as thesands of the sea rasped across the panes. Somewhere without a doghowled—the long, throaty ululation of the wolf breed. Another joinedin, and another, until a full score of canine voices wailed a weirdrequiem.
Unheeding, the living man sat as still as the dead.
Once, twice, thrice, a little clock struck a halting, uncertain stroke.When the fourth hour was passed it rattled crazily and stopped. Thefire died away to embers; the embers paled to ashes. As though theywere aware that something had gone awry, the dogs never ceased theirbaying. The wind rose higher and higher, and assailed the house withrepeated shocks. Pale-gray and changeless day that lay across a sea ofsnows peered furtively through the windows.
At length the watcher relaxed his silent vigil. He arose, cast offhis coat of white furs, stepped to the wall of the room opposite tothe door, and shoved back a heavy wooden panel. A dark aperture wasdisclosed. He disappeared and came forth presently, carrying severallarge chunks of what appeared to be crumbling black rock.
He threw them on the dying fire, where they snapped briskly, caughtfire, and flamed brightly. They were coal.
From a platform above the fireplace he dragged down a portion of theskinned carcass of a walrus. With the long, heavy-bladed knife from hisbelt he cut it into strips. Laden with the meat, he opened the doorand went out into the dim day.
The house was set against the side of a cliff of solid, black,lusterless coal. A compact stockade of great boulders enclosed thefront of the dwelling. From the back of the building, along the baseof the cliff, ran a low shed of timber slabs, from which sounded thehowling and worrying of the dogs.
As Polaris entered the stockade the clamor was redoubled. The rudeplank at the front of the shed, which was its door, was shakenrepeatedly as heavy bodies were hurled against it.
Kicking an accumulation of loose snow away from the door, the man tookfrom its racks the bar which made it fast and let it drop forward.A reek of steam floated from its opening. A shaggy head was thrustforth, followed immediately by a great, gray