Tiberius Smith/Chapter 3
III
FIVE-DOG LIMIT AT 65° N.
"AFTER the crude hinds in the hole had brewed us the sour drink, Tib got disgusted with installing wheels of progress, and as we now had a modicum of the tainted he decided on a bit of the cosmopolitan. Almost before I knew it we had swapped dull placidity for the hysterical bleat and blare of Broadway. Only the change was so radical I nearly inconvenienced seven motormen by being run over before my patron could drag me aside and into the permanent office of a circus.
"‘Let's be independent bugs,' I begged, 'and shun skylarking in the empty places until the wallet is flat.'
"‘We'll just stop and say how d'ye do,' quieted the boss, grabbing me by the collar and encouraging me to enter.
"Then did I know the old lust had returned, increased tenfold by our late editorial experience, and that once again we were destined to supply foundations for the big parade.
"‘Not anything with equators in it,' I groaned, as the head sheik fell on our necks and joyously proclaimed he had had seven we-never-sleep sleuths trailing us for a month. 'I'm a quitter unless it's mild,' I insisted.
"In response, the main-spring patted me lovingly on the back and led us to a big map and asked us to guess. I held my hat over Patagonia, for two years before Tib and I had visited that joint and with fly-paper had tried to catch a few of the rollicking sprites who longed to eat Magellan and the other early press-agents. They had proven great sprinters and had caught us before we covered the first quarter, and it was only with painful memories and a broken collar-bone we had torn ourselves away and gained the coast.
"‘Something with blondes in it,' I begged, for I saw Tib's eyes sparkling as he cocked his head in the old way and benevolently studied the chart.
"Our would-be employer in soothing tones reminded how we had distanced all other collectors in picking up circus truck. He showed us ten-foot posters of our cannibals and sacred goats and lion-faced boys; and with this gentle lead began to spring the trap. To cut it short, the circus wanted giants.
"To sustain his statement he produced cablegrams and terse letters written in red ink in which the owner said he hankered only for a dozen high men, who would scare the village nags into the Methodist church when passing on parade. And they must be lofty enough to do this without recourse to high-heeled boots and two-foot shakos.
"‘Of course, if he wants giants,' murmured Tib, and a light not of sea or land gleamed in his brown eyes as he formally agreed to try his dangdest. I knew there was no use in endeavoring to dissuade him, and heedless of the threatening gongs I slouched along in his wake, unwittingly on my way to a dramatic situation that for pure intensity of emotion was to render Friday's dimpled foot-print a merely pretty climax.
"As ill-luck would have it, the manager possessed a slight tip from a Moravian missionary, who had been doing a lecture stunt after a long stop in the edge of the Arctic Circle. Armed with this shadow of a hint, my patron now led the way to Brooklyn and unfortunately landed the lecturer. It required a deep display of heart interest in the flat-faced, stubby fat-eaters back home before our man would veer around and answer indiscriminate questions. Then he opened up and told us of the lost race of Anakim, and Tib murmured in my off-ear, 'There were giants in the earth in those days.'
"The missionary hastened to explain he had never met any of these big people, but half-asserted his belief that they could be found somewhere up there in the interior of Greenland. He added, significantly, they were amply protected from circus collectors, not only by peculiar territorial and climatic conditions, but also by sheer avoidupois. He had first learned of this overgrown race, he continued, from the Innuits. In fact, several of his freely perspiring children, who ought to have been in better business, declared that they had met with stray specimens while penetrating the Far North. But if all the legends and stale stories were true, our quarry would not readily eat from our hands.
"Yet the more he rambled, the more Tib's eyes twinkled, and he was all aglow to learn more of these museum possibilities. Consequently, three additional hours found us in Philadelphia, in search of old sea-dogs, who prowl about the Greenland waters yearly, in their cryolite-ladened barks. The missionary had furnished us with the name of one of this ilk, a man who was a crude expert upon the aborigines of the polar ice-cap, and who had recently returned to civilization. On finding him, Tib easily managed to make him talk, and the old salt startled us by declaring he had seen some of the Goliaths in a mining settlement near Ivigtut Bay. He pictured them as being from seven to nine feet tall, but apologized for the former and explained they probably had been improperly nurtured. He believed they celebrated their 'at homes' in the burglar-proof regions of the ultimate North, and had rambled down to the southwest coast because of terribly severe storms and the sub-zero stunts of the thermometer.
"This was enough for my patron, and another day saw us in consultation with the main-spring of the circus. The upshot was, we took passage on a cryolite bark immediately, bound for the frost-bitten, isle-girted coast of Ivigtut. Greenland, you know, is the only spot on the map that yields cryolite in commercial quantities, and a company in the Keystone State enjoys the exclusive privilege of shipping the stuff to the Americas. We embarked on one of their boats so as not to attract attention, for there were collectors who kept close tabs on Tib—why, Jenkins, collecting for a wild-animal show, once trailed us all through the Congo district, realizing we were after something good!
"While bounding over the billows, Tib kept school and informed me we would arrive at Ivigtut at the beginning of the summer season, when the average mean temperature is 48° Fahrenheit for three months, and where the officials of the Danish government try to eradicate homesickness by growing turnips, lettuce, and very small potatoes, mainly under glass. By the time we began to be annoyed by the waters of Davis Strait I was so crammed full of Arctic lore that I had to step softly so as not to jolt any vital facts out of my system. That was Tib's way; he never went into a strange place but what he was loaded.
"At Ivigtut we presented our credentials to the agents, who sent us on to Godthaab, the capital of Danish South Greenland. Here we were shaken down for newspapers and any information that didn't date back beyond the Stone Age. But, on the whole, we were handsomely treated by those holding the reins of government over this gigantic cold-storage plant; and we quickly learned that the captain's yarn about the strange people was within the truth zone, and that some of them had spent the long winter months on the coast. Now they had retreated up the fiords into the interior, we were told, where in sheltered places the mosses and flowering plants have the nerve to come forth in the stingy sunshine. Best of all, we were supplied with some faithful Eskimos, one of whom could do rough out-of-door work on the English language.
"The course we took largely evaded the ice and snow, yet we carried along a light sledge and a bunch of dogs. The Greenland canine is the best sledge animal in the world, and as ours were a cross between the native pup and the majestic Dane, we felt quite proud of our outfit. The west coast strip, you know, is free from permanent ice and snow and varies from one hundred to sixty miles in width. The Eskimos live on this ribbon of lowland and avoid the interior, where the iceman could quarry from two thousand feet to a mile before reaching real soil. That's what I call ice.
"The travel was pleasant and exhilarating, and Tib was all enthusiasm. 'If I can pinch a bevy of these sightly wags I shall form them into a brass-band, my child. Only think of the effect down in Utica!' he remarked one night when we were near the interior limit of the coast strip and were lying in our tent, smoking.
"Our henchmen were a mild-mannered people, entirely unfit for railroad work because of their penchant to absorb all the fat and oil in sight. And they were abominably given to song. They kept us awake two hours, chanting sagas, all in one key. At last they let up, and we sank to rest as softly as two babes in the woods.
"The next thing I knew Tib was digging his honest knuckles into my sides and murmuring: 'And there we saw the giants, the sons of Anak; and we were in our own sight as grasshoppers.'
"I awoke to behold the sun—and then about a score of the biggest men I ever saw. I thought at first I must be romancing in some spectacular dream. As I lay on my skin couch they looked to be between eight and nine feet tall, while the leader was equal to three of the Broadway squad spliced together. In color and build they resembled our North American Indians, and were armed with whalebone bows and ivory-tipped spears of unnecessary length. After having feasted our eyes on the amiable, squat faces of the Innuits, they looked awfully fierce and unwholesome.
"‘It's not a dream! We've found 'em!' I cried, staggering to my feet.
"‘It's no dream,' groaned Tib; 'only they've found us. I wish, Billy, you were snugly eating ice-cream in the States.'
"One glance revealed the situation. All of our Innuits, except the brave-hearted and badly scared interpreter, had scented trouble in the night, and for fear of hurting our feelings had silently indulged in caitiff flight. The sons of Anak had evidently given no pursuit, being content with their two souvenirs from the States.
"Tib then regained his nerve, and straightening up his rotund form asked Emma, the interpreter, if he was heavy enough to flirt with the strangers' patois. We called him Emma as it was impossible to climb over the bristling hedge of consonants in his real name. He shivered and said he could nibble away at the edges and complete the job by the sign language, as he had met several of them on the coast.
"‘Tell 'em,' commanded Tib, stoutly, 'that I have come to take some of them home with me, but that they shall all be returned here in good condition, and that I will give each man who goes with me a whale.'
"Emma drew in a long breath and tried to break into their lingo. I noticed he eschewed the poly-synthetic gab of his own tribe and rippled along with a flow of velvet vowels that sounded like a subway construction gang during the noon hour.
"Then for the first time the tallest step-ladder gave a hearty 'Wow!' and began a rapid fire back. I felt chilly as I saw the sweat stream from Emma's face and heard him give a few mournful hoots, indicative of great sorrow.
"‘Will they come, Em?' asked Tiberius, eagerly.
"‘No come,' groaned Emma. 'Say white men be killed to Black Dog Shaman.'
"‘Kindly 'phone me what that all means,' I begged.
"‘It means, my boy,' explained Tib, sadly, 'that these uncouth gentlemen contemplate offering us up as a tribal sacrifice to their head deity, the Black Dog. I guess they think our demise will propitiate Mr. Dog and stave off another severe winter. Tell 'em, Emma, that the Black Dog does not want the Snow Men to be harmed and will be very angry if they are.'
"The answer, as finally translated by Tib to me, was to the effect that we were magnificent liars and not on to the real disposition of Mr. Dog. The ignoramuses contended that we must pass out in order to placate their deity, and were very much displeased because we did not look upon our part in the humane ceremony with more fervor. While Tib was trying to toss back a fitting Roland for this amiable Oliver the ring broke up and we were hurried along towards the east. We marched rapidly all that day, the interpreter cheering us on the way with a dirge which we were given to understand was his swan song. At night we joined another horde of the sky-scrapers under another chief, and passed the long, dark hours unbound, but carefully guarded by a circle of hungry-looking dogs. I never saw so many dogs in one family before, and I began to appreciate that the canine was a great institution among these embryo policemen.
"It was the second morning after our capture that Tib and I discovered that which surprised us more than the finding of the giants themselves. For after our captor and the new chief had conversed for a few minutes, and Tib had wanted to bet neither understood what the other was saying, they sat down on some skin art-squares near us, and our Simon Legree produced a dirty deck of playing-cards. I thought Tib's eyes would pop out of his head. I wouldn't have been more surprised if the chief had yanked out a grand-piano.
"‘Playing-cards!' gasped Tib. 'The idea of these untutored children knowing anything about our great institution! Why, Billy, it shows some white man has been here among 'em and remained alive long enough to teach 'em a few of our home pastimes. I wonder if he was offered up to the Black Dog! What are they playing—whist?'
"Tib, you know, had no use for sports, and I had never known him to tease Fortuna with coin. He always said he was too busy earning money to find time to throw it away to a greater knave than himself.
"‘They deal five apiece,' I informed him. 'I think—by Heavens, it's so! They are playing poker!'
"And hang me, sir, if they weren't! There they sat, two enormous, copper-colored, tin-horn sports, discarding and drawing with the utmost celerity, and punctuating their luck with a few 'wahs!' They evidently had established a standard of values, as bows and spears and skins and pieces of driftwood were quickly put up and changed hands without any confusion.
Mr. Goliath, of Gath, is evidently playing in hard luck,' observed Tib, with snapping eyes, as our captor lost a big pot on three jacks held cold.
"‘Glad of it!' I cried. 'I hope he gets maced for every barbed arrow in his quiver. Serve him plaguey right.'
"‘I don't know,' mused Tib, following the play keenly; 'the other Eiffel Tower strikes me as being, if anything, even more reprehensible of feature. That scar on his left cheek makes him look hungry.'
"I, too, noted this. The chief of our tribe was now down to his dogs and captives, and it was evidently a struggle for him to decide which he would hazard. But the dog means life to the snow people, and with a grunt, intended for a sigh, he sullenly motioned for me to step on the carpet.
"‘Great Scott! He's betting you, Billy!' cried Tib. 'Why, this will never do! We mustn't be separated, for I'd be ashamed to go back without you. And alone up here you'd be as helpless as an eider duck in Central Park!'
"I wrung his hand, but felt encouraged. I was elated to observe he had decided to postpone dying, and hope surged through my frost-lined veins as he gave evidence of returning to his old masterful self. For, even as I was wagered, I believed his savoir faire would yank us both back to the friendly coast, once he got to working.
"The visiting chief tossed a few skins and a spear beside me.
"‘Looks kind of bad for our boys now,' I observed, sorrowfully.
"‘You're worth more than that, Billy!' cried Tib, drawing near in his excitement. 'It's a shame to sacrifice a man that way. Make the old miser at least approach your value. Make him throw in another spear!'
"But I brought no more, and, to Tib's dismay, I changed owners on a pair of tens.
"‘Of all the senile monstrosities!' he roared. 'Why, my child in a gilded cage, I haven't played poker since I was young and foolish, but I'd know more than that. Tell me, what will a flush take?'
"I was ashamed to show any deep knowledge of the game, as Tib had always kept me pretty straight, but I told him, and with a low heart stumbled back of my new master.
"‘And this idiot here!' continued Tib, forgetting himself in his disgust and tapping his owner on the head, 'has thrown you away. He let slide a chance of making a flush in order to draw to a measly pair!'
"Mr. Goliath gave a howl at Tib's presumption and raised a spear. But Tib was mad clear through, and shaking his dimpled fist in the other's face he pointed accusingly at the lone pair and then quickly showed him from the discard how he would have made a heart flush if he*d been bright. 'And you call that poker, you old pirate!' hissed Tib, snapping his fingers beneath his disgruntled master's long nose.
"I firmly believed the irate gamester was about to sacrifice the old fellow right then and there with very little ceremony; but—Lord bless you, sir! he knew he had played rotten poker; and dropping his spear he began to talk deep down in his throat and make exonerating gestures. But Tib was obdurate, and, eying him scornfully, flapped the damnatory pair of spots before his sullen face, while he informed him he couldn't play mumble-peg with a blind man. I tell you, sir, his rage was sublime. It heartened me wonderfully, and I began to think that life among the lowly wasn't so tough, after all.
"Then he caused my heart to leave its accustomed place and to wander up into my throat by giving the chief a shove with his boot and motioning him to quit the rug. The chief scowled and said something which I am sure wouldn't look well if printed in his home paper, and hesitated between leaving the game and scalping Tib. But my patron was fully alive now and confident. 'Steal away, you imbecile,' he ordered, fiercely, and the voter from Gath, probably realizing that he would lose all to his guest if he continued playing, rolled off the rug with a grunt of rage.
"‘I didn't know you gambled, Tib?' I gasped.
"The dear old chap's face actually blushed as he met my limpid gaze, and he defended: 'Never have since I was very young. Don't think I'm backsliding, Billy. I hate to do it, but it's the only show we have. But mind you, my lad, when once we're safely back at the Suet Pudding Club, don't you dare to tell the gang I have been cutting up here in these snowy wastes. I feel ashamed, as I've always tried to keep you from it, but I can't bear to see even a game of chance abused.'
"The idea of his apologizing to me for trying to save our two hides! 'Play for all you are worth, Tib,' I begged. 'Don't hesitate to hocus-pocus. If you see a card you hanker for, no matter where in the deck it is ensconced, just pluck it out for my sake.'
"‘I'd rather win fair, Billy,' he remonstrated. 'I wouldn't cheat to save myself, but I may if it will pull you on this side of the table.'
"‘Don't hesitate,' I implored, for I knew he could do more parlor-magic with the cards than most professionals. 'My giant has been palming cards right along. He took the last trick with a jiu-jitsu hold.'
"‘What!' gasped Tib. 'Can't even play a gentleman's game!' And he riffled the pasteboards in a manner that caused his owner to pat himself and eject a few gutturals of admiration. Probably the Arctic Circle never before saw such grace as was contained in Tib's famous Chinese riffle.
"Then we met with an obstacle that seemed insurmountable. Tib had no chips. His host had lost everything but his personal weapons and his dogs. Tib motioned for the latter, but Goliath slipped his face into a frown and shook his head. Tib insisted, and in a seductive pantomime represented all of the bow-wows in the fiord as ultimately crossing the rug to the home side. My owner then chipped in and expressed a willingness to put up his canines in turn. I think he was a bit afraid of Tib, but he was an inveterate gambler and evidently believed the luck was with him. Reluctantly, Tib's owner gave way, and it was agreed between the chiefs, and in sign language on Tib's part, that one big dog was equal to five pups, and that five dogs should be the limit. With this understanding they began to draw cards.
"They made me move to one side so that I could not read my boss's hand, and then Tib let the first pot go without making a bet, thereby losing his ante of two puppies. My master smiled hideously and the other monolith gave a howl of anger and held his spear against Tib's neck.
"‘I guess rd better take the next pot,' remarked Tib, as he picked up the cards and passed them to his opponent to deal.
"In doing this he displayed for a few seconds three greasy kings near the top of the deck.
"‘Oh, why weren't you more careful?' I groaned. 'He's palmed them!'
"‘He thinks he has,' grinned Tib, looking up at me in his old care-free way, and winking one brown eye slowly.
"My man skilfully got rid of his extra cards and without looking at his hand bet a pup. Tib calmly pushed over a dog, drew down five babies in change and went him two little ones better. The chief, confident of winning, smiled grimly and seemed to hesitate, and then, as a coaxer, raised the bet three pups! Tib quickly came back the limit, five dogs.
"The chief began to go careful now, and slyly peeped at his two-card draw. He had caught a pair of deuces, and feeling sure of victory he tossed back the limit.
"The rug was now covered and crowded with dogs, and it took four of the giants to keep the chips in the pot. Tib added to the gayety by going the limit, once more. Then my man caught a cold and, meeting the raise, threw down his hand. His rage and wonder on beholding just the deuces and three nondescript cards were beautiful to see and a warning to all gambling men. Tib had a pair of fours. His chief laid down his truculent spear and patted him on the shoulder. But the disappearance of the three kings puzzled our common enemy greatly. Doubtless he finally decided he had made a mistake in discarding; for he carelessly pawed over the dead cards with one immense hand and found the royal trio which he had supposed he held.
"‘Teased him a bit,' grinned Tib, as he tossed the cards together in an honest deal. 'I didn't cheat, my boy. I simply let him try, and he failed. It will teach him to avoid temptation in the future, I hope.'
"But the other, being short of dogs, now shoved me onto the mat and motioned that Emma and five dogs be put against me. Tib's treasurer demurred, and wanted to set Emma up alone. Then my patron got mad and threatened to jump onto the rug himself. This scared Goliath, and he sulkily allowed the dogs to be wagered. My captor passed his hand, and to my surprise Tib followed suit, making it the first jack-pot.
"‘He'll be careful in discarding this time, I'm sure,' grinned Tib, handing over the deck with a brazen flush carelessly displayed near the top.
"The old fellow grabbed the cards with a grunt of joy, and dealt. Tib hesitated, then opened for one dog. My owner came back with a five-dog boost to draw cards. Tib met it after pondering a bit, and raised it two pups. Back came the limit, and back it went. This cleaned old Copperskin out of quadrupeds, and he bet no more, although he chuckled hoarsely as Tib motioned for three cards. Copperskin then laid his hand face down and signified he was satisfied with what he had. Tib's owner, fearing all was lost, began to growl and apply the point of his spear. Tib waved the weapon aside and bet an infant bow-wow. He was promptly raised the limit in spears. Again he raised, and the dogs were covered with skins. One more raise, and Sitting Bull swept all his belongings to the carpet and triumphantly threw down his hand. Tib showed three aces.
"My master, without examining his cards, gave a loud 'woof!' and began hauling in the stakes, while the other copper demon raised his spear preparatory to transfixing Tib, taking it for granted the latter's plunge had lost all. But Tib with a sharp yelp pointed to his adversary's hand, and his infuriated backer reached over and disturbed the card with his spear-point. Although the ten of hearts was on top, all the other cards were brunettes, and worthless.
"Well, sir, it simply swept Sitting Bull and his children off their feet! They had seen him palm a heart flush, and, probably knowing he was the best poker-player in the shadow of the North Pole, they had chortled without stint. Goliath, as Emma and I trooped to his side of the skin, gave a gleeful howl and began dancing derisively before his guest. To put the final jolt into the scene. Sitting Bull slapped one of Tib's chips and was immediately bitten through the thumb. With a howl of rage and pain he sent his seven-foot stalker into the misguided cur.
"Then Goliath and his followers broke loose and jumped the other clan to avenge this gross breach of hospitality. I was quickly covered with a mob of the infuriated giants, and, say, for rough horseplay it had football on Soldiers' Field beaten into a tender nursery game! Some one grabbed me by the heels and pulled me out of the squirming, spear-thrusting mass. I discovered my rescuer was Emma. Together we located Tib's fat form and extricated him. Then, realizing that every one was busy with home affairs, we scuttled off to the west. I reckon they were too actively engaged to pursue us, and three days later we reached the coast, and in a half-starved condition ultimately made Godthaab.
"But, do you know, sir, I've often wondered as to the identity of the poor devil who left that life-saving pack of pictures up there on the edge of the Arctic Circle.