ANOTHER ALASKA FAIRY-TALE—
TGliY KING JOINS ANANIAS CLU
—
A Boston man has been with the .
leaders in the Winnipeg- St Paul dog
race.
Never has a contestant in such a
race gone against greater odds than
tuts Fred Hartman in this one.
I
His lead dog was crippled and riding
instead of pulling; wrong directions i
were given him which sent him off the
trail and put him for behind the lead
ers.
But one terrtble night, when the
thermometer hovered far below zero,
he drove on while the others were
sleeping, and in the morning he was
at their side mushing his dogs along.
Fred Hartman, son of New England,
may not win the big race—yesterday’s
reports showed his dogs nearly fagged,
the driver barely able to keep his feet
— but he has won a name as the ner
viest, gumest driver of them all.
it was cold, bitter cold, that night
in Fergus Falls. Down through the
for stretches of the Minnesota tim
berlands swept the north wind, snow
swirling before it and death in its
sting.
Just after nightfall three dog teams,
spurred 0:1 by the^r ice-covered driv
ers, had swetp into town. Side by
side, cheered on by the crowd that
thronged the sidewalks, these remind
ers of the days before the railways
crossed the Mississippi jogged down
the main street and drew up before
the hotel.
There was Hyurthur Hanson, hero
of many a race on Alaskan trails.
With him, in the lead of the Winni
peg-St Paul dog race, were Mike Kelly
and Gunnar Tomasson, from Up the
Hudson Bay country. Only 33 miles
they had been able to make that day,
battling through tho drifting snow.
Wearily, they bedded down their dogs,
ate supper and climbed into bed.
Just at he time when the leaders
were composing themselves to rest for
■ II I "TIIT——■! ■ -
re*"!1",”11,1
the next clay’s struggle, Fred Hartman
drove three dogs into Dalton, 20 miles
to tin! north. Hartman claims Boston,
for his home. True it is that a wan- j
deling trail tins led him far from the
home of his New England forebears.
l'l> in the Yukon country, where
men moll for gold in the land of the
tVig stillness, they cell him "The Man
Who Never Quits." Hard are the I
trails that have known him; in the .
early days of the gold rush he con
quered Chilkoot Pass while olhers
were falling and dying along the
snow-swept way.
lie was in the van when the Wealth
hungry horde staggered wearily into
Dawson nad then he vanished Into the
frost locked interior. It was a year
and more before he got back to the
Yukon citj ; he left it a town of tents
and found it a throbbing centre of i
the gold country. He tarried but a
few days; his poke was full of dust
and he was bound “outside.”
But the “outside" couldn’t keep him;
the magic uf the open places had
pierced to his Bones and held him in
its thrall. Back he went again into
the wilderness, to the snow hound
trails that led over mountains and
down vii’lev. to his snowshoes and his I
dogs.
Eye to eye he faced the grim death’s
head of starvation and stared it clown.
Hardships wracked Ids frame and the
survey loosened his teeth, but always
he dime through, he got to where he
was going every time. That’s the kind
of man who gels across i:i the frontier
country. When there was a tough job
Hartman took it and finished it.
And the same ability to dare and do
that carried him over the Alaskan
trails and later into the Hudson Bay
country has made him the hero of the
race over this Tight, the race more
than half over, found him 2ii miles
oehind the leaders.
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THE EMHINENT STAR
MABEL TALIAFERRO
** * \ i
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And 20 miles is a mighty long way
on tho snow trail, so the leaders tum
bled into bed secure in their thought
that none could come up with them,
just os Hartman swung into Dalton.
Hut three dogs were In the traces
\vh< re there should have been four; tlie
lead dog, wrapped in blankets, was
riding.
Gariy in tho day, the leader had gon®
lame and was unable to continue.
Hartman could have deserted him and
made better time with three dogs, but
he remembered the many times his
leader had carried him through. Ho
the dog became the passenger.
It was 7 o'clock In the evening when
Hartman, helping his dogs along with
the gee string, hit Dalton. He was
tired and hungry; his first act was
lo carry his leader into tho warm hotel
otlice and place him near the lir •.
Then lie hustled out and tended to the
wants of the other dogs. After th it
tu- satisfied his own hunger.
"Suppose you're going to stop with
us tonight," offered tile hotel man.
".Nut a bit of it," answered Hartman.
Where's tlu night control for the
leaders'? Fergus halls? Twenty miles.’
I'm going to sleep in Fergus Falls to
night." And he did.
i is I ac'j that no one but llartnnn
will ver flow the full terror of u. u
night, The mercury stood 3U degrees
below zero and the wind cut to the
bone. Hut along about 2 o'clock in tie
morning a fourth clog team came down
■|i' almost desert-al main siiic-t ol
Fergus Falls.
True Sporting Spirit.
The dogs were hardly able to pull
o:a foot afler another; the sturdy fig
ure at the gee string swayed as a
drunken man. You have lo gi\v those
three who had hitherto kept the lead,
fill, credit for sportsmanship. They
heard Hartman coming down the
street urging his tired dogs on. They
saw him come to a stop in front of
tra il hotel and stand swaying, a'most
falling to ttie snow.
in a few moments their clothes
wa re on and they wore in the street.
Cjuickly lin y carried Hartman into the
hotel and 1 lie next moment were out
again looking to the comfort of the
dogs. They seemed just as glad that
Hartman had caught them as he was.
The in \t morning he left among the
leaders.
It’s a long, tough tin'll, this one
from Winnipeg to Ht. Haul. True, the
temperatures are not as low as those
in the Arctics, but during the first
stages of the trip the mercury was
at 40 below and men of tho open
country maintain that this is just as
hard to bear as 20 degrees lower. The
distance is a22 miles.
Had to Break Trail.
Most of the distance they have had
to take turns breaking trail, hammer
ing down the snow by the tread of
their snoyv shoes so that the dogs may
gain a foothold instead of lloundcriug.
That is the reason why, if the period
is stormy, there is generally a close
fln'ish to such contests. The leaders
must keep together and help each
other in the breaking of the trail. But
when they hit the travelled ways near
the finish, then it is every man for
himself and may tho best man—and
dogs—win.
Fred Hartman, whom Boston is
proud to call her own, was an old trail
partner'of Tommy King, tho champion
dog musher of Alaska. But Tommy
win never hit the long trail again.
Once he was the strongest, nerviest,
most nearly tireless driver in all the
frozen North. Day after day, death
had camped on his trail and scratch
ed toward him the hand icier than the
blast Itself. But never was death able
to grasp him.
lie had come unscathed through
trips terrible beyond description! an
accident in a Fairbanks storehouse
drove him from the trial forever. He
fell down an elevator shaft and his
hip was broken. Last summer King
came outside to see a noted specialist
In Chicago and the specialist told him
that he would never again have full
use of the injured leg.
rtemember the winter of 1910 and
'll ? It was one of the coldest and
stormiest that the Unit *d States has
ever known; in Alaska it was a sea
son of teiior. Day after day the
storm clouds hung over th mountains
and tilted the pusses with snow.
Tommy King was in Fairbanks when
hat dread winter closed down.
Tommy’s "Relief Trip.”
Six hundred miles back in the in- I
ierinr lay Iditnrod, with a population
of about 50 men and women. Cut 50
people mu eat a lot of stuff and Fair
banks knew that they had little.
Tommy volant--ered to get grub to
Iditnrod. He set his dogs to the
! traces and loaded his sled with ch'ick
j ens, turkeys (it was near Christmas,)
I beef, pork and potatoes and hit the
[ trail.
When King and his dogs mushed out
of Fairbanks and took to th? surface
of tie T.mana Kiver tin th Milometer
noted in below zero. I'p tin river he
I went for a hundred miles, then cut
across to the Yukon. Finally he came'
to Mouse Point, "the coldest spot Mi
Alaska." There the north wind whips
down through the draw in the moun
tains and sweeps the ice on the river j
clea r of snow.
It was dark when King got there.
Far ahead he could see the light of
a roadhouse gleaming through the
night. It spelled rest and warmth for
the tired wayfarer and his dogs. Cut
every foot was gained at the expense
of supreme effort. The 'ice afforded
slight foothold and the wind was in
their face; the dogs flinched but the
uncomnierahle driver plied the lash
and kept them going. Finally they
j n ached the roadhouse; there the spirit
| thm inonieter showed the t •mperatur*‘
to be 7a below zero.
Tin* call of the dlivei brought the
minute- of the house to t tie door
Tommy King hesMated not an instant;
straight through the opening to the
side of the stove lie drove his team.
Then he fell exhausted beside the pant,
ing dogs. Friendly hands had h* elmp
him out of his froz« :i furs.
Two day s before Christmas, l\ i ig
and his load reached Iditnrod; th
residents were short of food hut had
pl nt\ of money. King sold the chicli
ens and ‘urkeys at $2.50 per pound and
th meat at $2 jur pound. The po
tatoes. precious beyond estimate as a
preventive for semvoy, brought 50
cents apM'ce and he received the* same
amount for each letter he carried.
Five times during the terrible win ,
ter Tommy King made the round trip
from Fairbanks to Iditnrod. Hach trip
came near being his last, lmt a’ways
he distanced death on the home
stretch. Fifty thousand miles lie had
mushed into every nook and corner of
Alaska. Sometimes his trips over the
trail mtted him large returns; at
other times he braved death simply to
save lives.
And now lie has had to fpiit. P.aek
to FaMbatiks he has gone, for lie can
not remain "outside." There lie will
sit besMle the stove and listen t«> tie
tales of those who conn* in over the
frozen trail; never again can he mush
along behind his dog team. Hut he ha®
set lip records that will prohab’v no\a i ,
he beaten.
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