The Project Gutenberg EBook of Isobel, by James Oliver
Curwood
(#11 in our series by James Oliver Curwood)

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Title: Isobel
Author: James Oliver Curwood
Release Date: October, 2004 [EBook #6715]

[This file was first posted on January 19, 2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: Latin1
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, ISOBEL ***

Isobel
A Romance of the Northern Trail
by James Oliver Curwood, 1913

WHO IS WITH ME AND TO
VIOLA
WHO FILLS FOR ME A DREAM OF THE FUTURE
I AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATE THIS BOOK

At Point Fullerton, one thousand miles straight north of civilization, Sergeant William MacVeigh wrote with the stub end of a pencil between his fingers the last words of his semi-annual report to the Commissioner of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police at Regina.

\u00e2\ue000\ue003I beg to say that I have made every effort to run down Scottie Deane, the murderer. I have
not given up hope of finding him, but I believe that he has gone from my territory and is
probably now somewhere within the limits of the Fort Churchill patrol. We have hunted the
country for three hundred miles south along the shore of Hudson\u00e2\ue000\ue002s Bay to Eskimo Point, and
as far north as Wagner Inlet. Within three months we have made three patrols west of the
Bay, unraveling sixteen hundred miles without finding our man or word of him. I respectfully
advise a close watch of the patrols south of the Barren Lands.\u00e2\ue000\ue004

From his bunk in a corner of the little wind and storm beaten cabin which represented Law at the top end of
the earth Private Pelliter lifted a head wearily from his sick bed and said: \u00e2\ue000\ue003I\u00e2\ue000\ue002m bloomin\u00e2\ue000\ue002glad of it, Mac. Now
mebbe you\u00e2\ue000\ue002ll give me a drink of water and shoot that devilish huskie that keeps howling every now and then
out there as though death was after me.\u00e2\ue000\ue004

had to writethis twice a year?\u00e2\ue000\ue004And he pointed at the report.
\u00e2\ue000\ue003It isn\u00e2\ue000\ue002t any longer than the letters you wrote to that girl of yours\u00e2\ue000\ue001\u00e2\ue000\ue004
Pelliter stopped short. There was a moment of embarrassing silence. Then he added, bluntly, and with a hand

reaching out: \u00e2\ue000\ue003I beg your pardon, Mac. It\u00e2\ue000\ue002s this fever. I forgot for a moment that\u00e2\ue000\ue001that you two\u00e2\ue000\ue001had broken.\u00e2\ue000\ue004
\u00e2\ue000\ue003That\u00e2\ue000\ue002s all right,\u00e2\ue000\ue004 said MacVeigh, with a quiver in his voice, as he turned for the water.
\u00e2\ue000\ue003You see,\u00e2\ue000\ue004he added, returning with a tin cup, \u00e2\ue000\ue003this report is different. When you\u00e2\ue000\ue002re writing to the Big Mogul

and let the raiders from that whaler get away from us. And\u00e2\ue000\ue001 By Jo, I forgot to mention the wolves!\u00e2\ue000\ue004
\u00e2\ue000\ue003Put in a P. S.,\u00e2\ue000\ue004 suggested Pelliter.
\u00e2\ue000\ue003A P. S. to his Royal Nibs!\u00e2\ue000\ue004 cried MacVeigh, staring incredulously at his mate. \u00e2\ue000\ue003There\u00e2\ue000\ue002s no use of feeling

your pulse any more, Pelly. The fever\u00e2\ue000\ue002s got you. You\u00e2\ue000\ue002re sure out of your head.\u00e2\ue000\ue004
He spoke cheerfully, trying to bring a smile to the other\u00e2\ue000\ue002s pale face. Pelliter dropped back with a sigh.
\u00e2\ue000\ue003No\u00e2\ue000\ue001there isn\u00e2\ue000\ue002t any use feeling my pulse,\u00e2\ue000\ue004he repeated. \u00e2\ue000\ue003It isn\u00e2\ue000\ue002t sickness, Bill\u00e2\ue000\ue001not sickness of the ordinary

man\u00e2\ue000\ue002s face except yours. Nine months without the sound of a woman\u00e2\ue000\ue002s voice. Nine months of just that dead, gray world out there, with the northern lights hissing at us every night like snakes and the black rocks staring at us as they\u00e2\ue000\ue002ve stared for a million centuries. There may be glory in it, but that\u00e2\ue000\ue002s all. We\u00e2\ue000\ue002re \u00e2\ue000\ue002eroes all right, but there\u00e2\ue000\ue002s no one knows it but ourselves and the six hundred and forty-nine other men of the Royal Mounted. My God, what I\u00e2\ue000\ue002d give for the sight of a girl\u00e2\ue000\ue002s face, for just a moment\u00e2\ue000\ue002s touch of her hand! It would drive out this fever, for it\u00e2\ue000\ue002s the fever of loneliness, Mac\u00e2\ue000\ue001a sort of madness, and it\u00e2\ue000\ue002s splitting my \u00e2\ue000\ue002ead.\u00e2\ue000\ue004

\u00e2\ue000\ue003Tush, tush!\u00e2\ue000\ue004 said MacVeigh, taking his mate\u00e2\ue000\ue002s hand. \u00e2\ue000\ue003Wake up, Pelly! Think of what\u00e2\ue000\ue002s coming. Only a few months more of it, and we\u00e2\ue000\ue002ll be changed. And then\u00e2\ue000\ue001think of what a heaven you\u00e2\ue000\ue002ll be entering. You\u00e2\ue000\ue002ll be able to enjoy it more than the other fellows, for they\u00e2\ue000\ue002ve never had this. And I\u00e2\ue000\ue002m going to bring you back a letter\u00e2\ue000\ue001 from the little girl\u00e2\ue000\ue001\u00e2\ue000\ue004

me, and she\u00e2\ue000\ue002s true to the bottom of her dear heart. You\u00e2\ue000\ue002ve got my letter safe?\u00e2\ue000\ue004
\u00e2\ue000\ue003Yes.\u00e2\ue000\ue004
MacVeigh went back to the rough little table and added still further to his report to the Commissioner of the

\u00e2\ue000\ue003Pelliter is sick with a strange trouble in his head. At times I have been afraid he was going
mad, and if he lives I advise his transfer south at an early date. I am leaving for Churchill two
weeks ahead of the usual time in order to get medicines. I also wish to add a word to what I
said about wolves in my last report. We have seem them repeatedly in packs of from fifty to
one thousand. Late this autumn a pack attacked a large herd of traveling caribou fifteen miles
in from the Bay, and we counted the remands of one hundred and sixty animals killed over a
distance of less than three miles. It is my opinion that the wolves kill at least five thousand
caribou in this patrol each year.

\u00e2\ue000\ue003I hate to leave you alone, Pelly,\u00e2\ue000\ue004 he said. \u00e2\ue000\ue003But I\u00e2\ue000\ue002ll make a fast trip of it\u00e2\ue000\ue001 four hundred and fifty miles over
the ice, and I\u00e2\ue000\ue002ll do it in ten days or bust. Then ten days back, mebbe two weeks, and you\u00e2\ue000\ue002ll have the
medicines and the letters. Hurrah!\u00e2\ue000\ue004