I.
Out of the North there rang a cry of Gold! And all the spacious regions of the West, From rugged Caribou to where the crest Of Mexican Sièrras mark the old Franciscan frontiers, caught the regal sound, And echo'd and re-echo'd it, till round The eager World the rumor of it roll'd: How Eldorado once again was found Where stretch Canadian plains, forlorn and rude,Hard upon the iron-temper'd Arctic solitude.
II.
Then woke the vanguard of adventurers, Who fret their souls against the trammel'd ways And measur'd hours of these exacting days; They heard the call--the pirate call that stirs To reach for easy gold in regions new; That once from lazy Latin cities drew Pizarro and his pious plunderers, And, later, many a buccaneering crew To sail their curly ships across the foamAnd loot the Spanish galleons upon the run for home.
III.
So rake the annals of the knave Romance-- The breed will not die out! The fatal stars That sway the line of loose Irregulars Forevermore 'gainst hazard circumstance, Illumin'd thro' those triple golden years A trail of splendid hopes and ghastly fears, Where only now Aurora gleams askance On the twinkling frosted bones of pioneers; But it's oh! for savage lands alight with spoil--For ventures grim and treasure-trove on a stark, unheard-of soil!
IV.
And I went with the crowd who took the trail Over the icy Chilcoot; side by side Who tugg'd and toil'd and topp'd the White Divide, Rafted it to Tagish, and set sail Down the rapid Yukon long before The main rush reach'd the mines. 'Twas no more To me than some new game of head-and-tail To gamble on; but we drank deep, and swore, Around uproarious camp-fires, that we'd findOur fortunes on the Klondike creeks or leave our bones behind.
V.
But there was a hoodoo on me from the first; Tho' everywhere I saw the yellow glance Of other's gold, I seem'd to stand no chance Locating claims; the hot, mosquito-curst And scurvy days went empty-handed by, No matter what I'd do or where I'd try; And every day in passing seem'd the worst, Until the last day faded from the sky, And the long, inexorable Night had come,--Inlocked with cold, and weird stars, and dumb as a corpse is dumb.
VI.
I work'd a while that Winter on a lay; Sixty below, and sleeping in snow-bank'd tents,-- Say, that was the hardpan of experience! Just earning enough to live, and make a play On some infernal card that never won; Or easy by some dance-hall beauty done For all the dust I had--you know the way: Snow-blind once, once frozen to the bone, While mushing with the mails between the creeks;Then typhoid laid me on my back delirious for weeks.
VII.
The river-ice was breaking in the Spring When first I heard them tell of Lonesome Bar,-- A haggard region hidden in the far Blank reaches of the North past reckoning. But the Sun was warm again, 'twas afternoon, And I was lounging in the Log Saloon, Ready to turn my hand to anything, When in two strangers came with a tale that soon Drew round the restless crowd, forever fondOf newer strikes, and farther fields, and the luck of things beyond.
VIII.
And well within an hour the rush began, For the strangers spoke of fortunes in a day; Careless show'd us nuggets that would weigh A pound or more, and told how every man At Lonesome Bar had sacks of them. Stampede! Already the sleds are out, and the huskies lead, Uneasy at their traces in the van, And yelping 'gainst the time the packers need: Stampede! Stampede! All hangs on the moment's haste,--And it's every man and dog for himself on the endless Arctic waste!
IX.
But the fever shook me still in every bone; Times I'd feel my legs bend under me, And every sinew loosen utterly; And so I fell behind. Yet all alone I mush'd along for a month as best I could, And every mile I made was to the good, For the trail of those ahead in the bleak unknown I'd savvy enough to keep. At last I stood One day on a rocky bluff, outworn and weak,And saw beneath me Lonesome Bar, at the bend of Boulder Creek.
X.
Ah! well I mind the evening that I came! The month was June, nigh ripen 'd to July, And the hour was midnight, yet the Western sky From the horizontal Sun was all aflame, When with my empty pack I sauntered down The one long tented street that made the town, Hungry and sick--sick of a losing game, And broke for the price of a whiskey-straight to drown The ragged thoughts a-limping thro' my brain--Till I saw a crowd and went beside to hear what news again.
XI.
And there was a gaunt old ruffian, shaggy-brow'd, Who on a barrel, as far as I could tell, Ranted in drunken ecstasy of Hell! They suited well his theme--that Klondike crowd: Men dogg'd by shadows of despair and crime, With women reckless of all aftertime; Miners, traders, villains unavow'd, And nondescript of every race and clime; With the red police of Canada beside--For they keep tab on everything clear down to the Arctic tide.
XII.
But Hell! What use had I for Hell that night? And sullen I turn'd away, when I felt a whack From a heavy open hand upon my back, And, turning quick, my doubtful eyes caught sight Of a college chum of mine--one Julien Roy-- Whom I'd not seen for years. Christ! 'twas joy To see the face of him again, and, quite In his old way, to hear him say, "Old boy! You're down on your luck I see! Come on up town,Where we can talk and have something to eat, and something to wash it down!"
XIII.
'Twas like the sudden shining of the Sun! The flowers forgotten of old fellowship Went all abloom again,--there seem'd to slip A weight of wasted years and deeds ill-done Plumb down and out of my life, with chance to try The upward trail again, where he and I Could venture yet the highest to be won, Could let the very thought of failure die, And weave into our lives, from ravell'd ways,That cord of gold we talk'd about in the far-off college days.
XIV.
For Julien was a gentleman all through; He stak'd me then, when I had not a cent, Braced me up and shared with me his tent, And help'd in every way a friend could do. As to the fortune that is ours to-day, I stumbled on it in the chancy way That all things come to me; I cut in two The likeliest claim I found, ask'd Jule to stay, And work it with me, share and share alike,--And in a month at Lonesome Bar 'twas rank'd the richest strike.
XV.
One day I left him working on the claim, I had to buy supplies down at the Bar, When passing by the dance-hall Alcazar, Topmost on its board I read a name, "Beulah, the Singing Girl"! The lesser lights, The Dogans, with Obesity in tights, And the boneless Acrobat--same old game-- 'Twas not for them I stay'd, nor clownish sights, But I wanted to hear a song--a song to makeThe feel of younger days come back until my heart should ache.
XVI.
Something went wrong with me that night, I know; And yet 'fore God I would not set it right For all the North and all its gold in sight! White she was all over, like the snow That on the glacier in the moonlight lies, And lissome as a panther when it spies Its quarry where the forest branches low; But the luring of her deep-illumin'd eyes, And voice voluptuous with all desire,And somewhat else beyond all that fair set my soul on fire.
XVII.
For Beulah sang a ballad to me then, Of perilous tune, so put to velvet rime, 'Twas sure the kind that sirens in old time Sang from the weedy rocks to sailor-men; And all the while her eyes shone splendidly At something far too fine for us to see; But oh! at the ending of the ballad, when Those eyes sank down to rest alone on me, Full well for one such glance of hers I knewI'd tip my hat to her command for all that a man may do.
XVIII.
And so enamor'd on the instant grown, I sprang to meet her when the song was done; She met me wondrous kind; then one by one The others drew aside, while we, alone, Crush'd from the moments, in our eagerness, A wine of many years, as one would press Sudden the ripen'd grapes. Ah! we had known, In some strange way that I'm too old to guess, A dream of life between, I know not how,That link'd her alien soul to mine with a dream out-lasting vow!
XIX.
You know how goes the custom of the Camp; How swift the wooing where the pace is set To live all in the hour--and then forget! The midnight moon shone pale, like an onyx lamp Hung in the amber twilight of the sky, When we went forth together, she and I, And open'd yellow wine, whose yellow stamp Won high approval from the rascals dry Who pledg'd us o'er and o'er, upon the chanceTo waste in regions barbarous that vintage of old France.
XX.
The first ones of the North still tell of it: That was the night the Lucky Swede made bold To bid for Beulah all her weight in gold; And when, from mere caprice, my side she quit, And challenged him to make the offer good, With iron pans and a beam and a chunk of wood A rough-and-ready balance soon was fit, And the Swede brought up his gold where Beulah stood, And 'gainst her weight upon the other scaleHe piled his buckskin-sacks, while I--saw red, but watch'd the sale.
XXI.
In all my life I never felt so broke; But when the balance quiver'd evenly, She threw a kiss to him--and came to me, And my heart went all a-tremble as she spoke: "Olè, you're a sport alright--for a Swede! But I think this Sourdough here's the man I need; I only play'd to leave him for a joke; Let's call it off--and the drinks on me! Agreed?" Since then for me there's been no other girl--And all the boys shook hands on it, and things began to whirl.
XXII.
And it's something worth, even in memory, To linger thro' those ample hours again. It may not be the same with other men, But clear on the topmost waves of revelry The soul of me was lifted cool and clean, Silent--to feel the surge of what had been: Content--to weigh the evil yet to be:-- Then Beulah's arms closed warm and white between, And I let go of all in her embrace,And for a time escaped from Time and the latitudes of Space.
XXIII.
And the last was a sense of sound--a tremulo, So vagrant, sweet and low, 'twas like the thin, Continual twinkling tune of a mandolin To mellow-toned guitars in Mexico, Where lovers pace the plaza by the sea; Where the deep Pacific phosphorescently Goes rolling smoothly 'neath the Moon, as tho' The influence of her yellow witchery Thro' all the sparkling waters off the MainHad sunken, sunken, drunken down like limitless champagne.
XXIV.
Slowly I woke. The last of the stars had fled: Only beside me Beulah murmur 'd "Stay!" And kiss'd me, sleepy-eyed. But early day Chills all of that somehow; I turned instead, Thinking to leave her dreaming, I confess; Yet even in that gray light her loveliness, And certain drowsy dulcet words she said, Charm'd my heart to hers in a last caress-- Chained if you like, and clinch'd with a parting smile--What then? In the round of the World I've found naught else so well worth while.
XXV.
Far up a valley, where the summer-rills Long ages thro' the glacial-drift have roll'd, I work'd in gravel studded thick with gold For days and days on the double-shift that kills. Yet oft, to hear the echoes ring and stir That vacant valley like a dulcimer, I flung her name against the naked hills, And crimson'd all the air with thoughts of her; While 'mong the fair returning stars I'd seePale phantoms of her chill, sweet face receding endlessly,
XXVI.
Till I could stand the pull of it no more; I, who as a fool knew every phase Of woman's lighter love, and love's light ways, Had felt no passion like to this before. As the lost drunkard's longing at its worst, And keen as the craving of the opium-curst, Was the elemental lust that overbore My very body till it gasp'd athirst, As one in some fierce desert dying dreamsOf snowy peaks and valleys green with unavailing streams.
XXVII.
And Julien, good old Julien, knowing all, Pretended not to know, but said he guess'd That I had overwork'd myself, and best Lay off a spell in town. Then I let fall My useless tools, and wash'd and got in trim For the long ten miles ahead. The trail was slim, And crawl'd at times 'gainst some sheer granite wall, Or lost itself 'mong boulders huge and grim; But dreaming of her I pick'd a buoyant way,Descending easy to the Bar at ending of the day.
XXVIII.
That region was abandon'd years ago, And Lonesome Bar is to the wild again, Yet still it haunts me as I saw it then:-- Far up in the banner'd West a crimson glow, And a silver crescent on its edge aslant, With Jewell'd Venus sinking jubilant Thro' opal spaces of the vault below; Then goblin rocks and waterfalls and scant Green tamarac around the white marqueeWhere Beulah lodg'd--and there was ending of the trail for me.
XXIX.
Ending of the trail--for she was there! Sylph-like I saw her figure thro' the haze Made of the twilight and the camp-fire blaze; And the piney odors passing thro' the air So pure I took for random kisses blown From her red mouth to mine, while yet unknown My whereabouts; then wholly unaware I stole upon her standing there alone, And sudden she was mine without appeal,And lip to lip within my arms made all my fancies real.
XXX.
Shall I forget the words she said to me? Nay, I believ'd them--I believe them yet! She told me how she dream'd that we had met Where dreams are true; and then how endlessly, Like some lost dove, she roamed this evil world Seeking for me; how now her wings were furl'd, And I should bide with her, till I should see This whitest secret in her soul impearl'd; And her songs were all for me, I heard her say,--For me, for me and only me, forever and a day!
XXXI.
Then pass'd the last good hours I ever knew; I lit my pipe, sat on a log, and look'd At her and her neat hands that neatly cook'd A supper hot and homely--just for two; And out in God's sweet air, beside the fire, Where comrade ways but strengthen'd Love's desire, We made it up to marry then for true, And I thought how all my life I'd never tire Of loving her, her eyes, her voice, her form,Her charm of something unreveal'd forever young and warm.
XXXII.
But at last, as night drew on, she rose and said: "I'd talk with you till dawn, dear, if talk Could hold my audience or charm the clock, But I musn't miss my turn, so come ahead!" Down at the theatre the crowd was thin, Perhaps two score, no more, as we went in; But the manager was hanging out his red Big-letter'd signal-lantern to begin, When from the street, crescendo, came a roar,Nearer and still nearer, till it reach'd the dance-hall door.
XXXIII.
Beulah stood ready on the stage, and the black Professor at the crack'd piano play'd His overture twice through, but no one stay'd, So I joined in where all were crowding back To where the row was on. "Speech, Mac, speech!" They cried, as up the aisle they rush'd to reach Where Beulah stood, confused. "It's Hellfire Mac!" I whisper'd her, "and he's drunk and wants to preach!" "What! why sure--whoever he is--come dear,That lets me off for a while, you know; come on--come on in here!
XXXIV.
And laughing softly she drew me aside Into a rough alcove, her dressing-room, Curtain'd from the stage, and half in gloom, When at a sound her eyes ' gan staring wide, And she clutch'd my arm. Twas not the pious drone, But a fearsome something in the undertone Of the ruin'd Calvinist, whose soul espied Damnation toppling from the great White Throne Upon the woeful habiters of Earth,That somehow check'd the crowd that night, and still'd its shallow mirth.
XXXV.
And Beulah, more than all like one enthrall'd, Smother'd a moan, and dumbly motioning For me to follow, crept into the wing Close up to him. Bearded, gray and bald, With eyes sunk gleaming under beetling shag, And face rough-chisel'd like a granite crag, He tower'd above us all; but so appall'd He seem'd that scarce his drunken tongue could drag Meet words to match his ghastly fantasies,Yet I remember some in Gaelic accents drawn like these:
XXXVI.
"Last night, my friens, she dreampt she was a snake, Prodigious as wass nefer seen before: Ha, ta Mac an Diaoul!--ta Peishta-Mor! For when she moved she made ta mountains quake, And all ta waters of ta oceans roll In frightnet waves from Pole to frozen Pole; While efermore her starving body'd ache So bitterly ta pain she couldna thole, But twistit round and round, till she was curl'dIn endless coils of blastit flesh about ta blastit World.
XXXVII.
"For in those days she was ta only thing; There wass no man nor woman left at all; No fish to swim, no beast to run or crawl, No bird nor butterfly to spread its wing; Around ta World herself wass all alone, For all that efer lived to her had grown; And Winter, that would nefermore be Spring, Now glowert silent ofer every zone: Then liftit she her head into ta skyTo spit ta last great blasphemy into God's face--and die.
XXXVIII.
"But oh! ta silence of ta endless sky-- And oh! ta blackness of ta endless Night! Where all ta stars can nefer make it light-- Where in ta empty, like a Defil's eye, Ta eerie Sun, grown small and smooth and cold, Stared down upon her doom ordain'd of old! And she torment--and she couldna tell forwhy-- With agonies in every quaking fold, Where only flowit poison streams for blood:And still she hiss'd and spit and curst-and still there wass no God!
XXXIX.
"But at ta last she felt ta power to make Ta great escape, and finish all her hurt; Ta Spirit moved her, and her body girt Its straining coils until ta World she brake To splinter'd rocks that ground and crash'd and roar'd, While all ta inner fires reek'd up and pour'd In fury round ta universal Snake-- Consuming in ta vengeance of ta Lord!" We never heard the meaning of his dream,For sudden thro' the building rang a wild hysteric scream.
XL.
And Beulah springing frenzied to the stage, And the old man halting face to face with her, Too swift and strange for any theatre Follow'd a scene whose measure none could gauge, Only we felt its mad reality. "That man's my father--keep him back from me!" I heard her cry, while horror blent with rage Upon the other's face. "A fient I see! A damit fient of Hell, who stole my name!Beulah, ta harlot, come again to cross my face with shame!"
XLI.
I saw the old man grip and throttle her; I saw her choking, and her white hand dart Down to the knife that flashed--and found his heart! I saw him reel and fall--I saw the blur Of blood that gush'd upon her heaving breast Out of his own! Ah! God, how quick the rest! Ere I or any one of us could stir, Full to the hilt that fatal knife she press'd Into her side, that ran and reek'd with red,As she fell dead upon the stage where lay her father dead.
XLII.
Moments there are that gleam beyond all Time! Blown from enormous Years! O name that seems To hearken back thro' vague primeval dreams! O maid remember'd from the young, sublime, Untrammel'd days when God foregathered us! My woman still--grown strangely perilous! All in a moment marr'd with scarlet crime, And lost before mine eyes incredulous! My woman still--tho' I go babbling dazedAt thought of her and her father damn'd, and a Hell of things gone crazed!
XLIII.
How since that hour again and yet again I've play'd the fool with Death! Go let him take What shape he please, I'll meet him wide awake, And keep a date with him--no matter when! Mad, I tell you--mad, I've laughed to hear In Wintertime the mad gray-wolves draw near And circle round me, all unarm'd--and then, Snapping their teeth, slink back and howl with fear: God knows of what! So queer it seem'd, almostI think they saw beside me there old Hellfire's drunken ghost!
XLV.
Lonesome Bar! Too far--too far and old The hollow sound of it now comes to me To quicken this sick heart that crazily Goes lurching on to everlasting cold! Fill up my glass! What game have I to play But drink into this drear, indifferent day, Some brief delirium, wherein to hold A phantom floating goldenly away Beyond the zenith of my soul, as brightAurora with her dreamlight haunts the hopeless Arctic night!
