Let me die.’ And it is the man who stands beside her andsays， ‘Come， let us go on.’ And they go on. And sometimesit is the man who cannot get up， and the woman says，‘Come， let us go on.’ But the one thing they do， and alwaysdo， is to go on. Always do they go on.
“Sometimes， at the trading posts， the man and womanget letters. I do not know what is in the letters. But it isthe scent that they follow， these letters themselves are thescent. One time an Indian gives them a letter. I talk withhim privately. He says it is a man with one eye who giveshim the letter， a man who travels fast down the Yukon.
That is all. But I know that the baby wolves are after theman with the one eye.
“It is February， and we have travelled fifteen hundredmiles. We are getting near Bering Sea， and there are stormsand blizzards. The going is hard. We come to Anvig. I donot know， but I think sure they get a letter at Anvig， forthey are much excited， and they say， ‘Come， hurry， let usgo on.’ But I say we must buy grub， and they say we musttravel light and fast. Also， they say that we can get grub atCharley McKeon’s cabin. Then do I know that they takethe big cut-off， for it is there that Charley McKeon liveswhere the Black Rock stands by the trail.
“Before we start， I talk maybe two minutes with thepriest at Anvig. Yes， there is a man with one eye who hasgone by and who travels fast. And I know that for whichthey look is the man with the one eye. We leave Anvigwith little grub， and travel light and fast. There are threefresh dogs bought in Anvig， and we travel very fast. Theman and woman are like mad. We start earlier in themorning， we travel later at night. I look sometimes to seethem die， these two baby wolves， but they will not die.
They go on and on. When the dry cough take hold ofthem hard， they hold their hands against their stomachand double up in the snow， and cough， and cough， andcough. They cannot walk， they cannot talk. Maybe for tenminutes they cough， maybe for half an hour， and then theystraighten up， the tears from the coughing frozen on theirfaces， and the words they say are， ‘Come， let us go on.’
“Even I， Sitka Charley， am greatly weary， and I thinkseven hundred and fifty dollars is a cheap price for thelabor I do. We take the big cut-off， and the trail is fresh.
The baby wolves have their noses down to the trail， andthey say， ‘Hurry！’ All the time do they say， ‘Hurry！ Faster！
Faster！’ It is hard on the dogs. We have not much food andwe cannot give them enough to eat， and they grow weak.
Also， they must work hard. The woman has true sorrowfor them， and often， because of them， the tears are in hereyes. But the devil in her that drives her on will not let herstop and rest the dogs.
“And then we come upon the man with the one eye. Heis in the snow by the trail， and his leg is broken. Becauseof the leg he has made a poor camp， and has been lying onhis blankets for three days and keeping a fire going. Whenwe find him he is swearing. He swears like hell. Never haveI heard a man swear like that man. I am glad. Now thatthey have found that for which they look， we will haverest. But the woman says， ‘Let us start. Hurry！’
“I am surprised. But the man with the one eye says，‘Never mind me. Give me your grub. You will get moregrub at McKeon’s cabin to-morrow. Send McKeon backfor me. But do you go on.’ Here is another wolf， an oldwolf， and he， too， thinks but the one thought， to go on.
So we give him our grub， which is not much， and we chopwood for his fire， and we take his strongest dogs and goon. We left the man with one eye there in the snow， and hedied there in the snow， for McKeon never went back forhim. And who that man was， and why he came to be there，I do not know. But I think he was greatly paid by the manand the woman， like me， to do their work for them.
“That day and that night we had nothing to eat， and allnext day we travelled fast， and we were weak with hunger.
Then we came to the Black Rock， which rose five hundredfeet above the trail. It was at the end of the day. Darknesswas coming， and we could not find the cabin of McKeon.
We slept hungry， and in the morning looked for the cabin.
It was not there， which was a strange thing， for everybodyknew that McKeon lived in a cabin at Black Rock. Wewere near to the coast， where the wind blows hard andthere is much snow. Everywhere there were small hills ofsnow where the wind had piled it up. I have a thought，and I dig in one and another of the hills of snow. Soon Ifind the walls of the cabin， and I dig down to the door. Igo inside. McKeon is dead. Maybe two or three weeks heis dead. A sickness had come upon him so that he couldnot leave the cabin. The wind and the snow had coveredthe cabin. He had eaten his grub and died. I looked for hiscache， but there was no grub in it.
“‘Let us go on，’ said the woman. Her eyes were hungry，and her hand was upon her heart， as with the hurt ofsomething inside. She bent back and forth like a tree inthe wind as she stood there. ‘Yes， let us go on，’ said theman. His voice was hollow， like the KLONK of an oldraven， and he was hunger-mad. His eyes were like livecoals of fire， and as his body rocked to and fro， so rockedhis soul inside. And I， too， said， ‘Let us go on.’ For thatone thought， laid upon me like a lash for every mile offifteen hundred miles， had burned itself into my soul， andI think that I， too， was mad. Besides， we could only go on，for there was no grub. And we went on， giving no thoughtto the man with the one eye in the snow.
“There is little travel on the big cut-off. Sometimes twoor three months and nobody goes by. The snow had coveredthe trail， and there was no sign that men had ever comeor gone that way. All day the wind blew and the snow fell，and all day we travelled， while our stomachs gnawed theirdesire and our bodies grew weaker with every step theytook. Then the woman began to fall. Then the man. I didnot fall， but my feet were heavy and I caught my toes andstumbled many times.
