The quicker you get to a doctor, the better. Ick knows the river and he can get you to McQuesten in two days, and down the Stewart in two more. What would happen if I tried to take a canoe down through those rapids? You know, and so do I. If Ick goes on, we’ve got to wait. Suppose he misses Rickey, or things don’t go right beyond the divide? Suppose your leg doesn’t get along right? We’re still waiting—and we’re not long on grub.
“There’s the divide—I can’t miss it. Ick and I will pack you down to the river, and I’ll mush on with the points.”
“You’re so good at supposin’: supposin’ you don’t find no Injuns? Supposin’ somethin’s happened to Rickey?”
“Well, I can come back, can’t I? I’m no chechako! When you hit the Yukon, you can send Ick back. Anyhow, if things don’t go right, it will only be me—and Rickey, maybe. But if I stay with you and anything should go wrong with Ick, we wouldn’t any of us get out.”
Sergeant McKeever saw the truth of the boy’s words and at length gave a grudging assent:
“All right. You ain’t no chechako. You’ll
