Stetson Weekly Collegiate

mnmmm^€aujmm STUDENTS' PUBLICATION OF STETSON UNIVERSITY. VOL. XXIII DE LAND, FLA., THURSDAY, APRIL 6, 10J1. No. 20 THE COUNTRY OF GREAT SILENCES By A. R. Phillips. "All this I swear without any mental evasion, equivocation or secret reservation. "So help me God." With these simple and solemn words, Jack Northworth had entered into the service of his Majesties' "North- West Mounted Police." That clean cut body of men from all parts of the world; some having tucked away in their mess-kits medals won in South Africa, Egypt, and Afghanistan; whose duty it is to keep law and order in that vast wilderness known as Canada^ who's beat is from the Hudson Bay to the Pacific, and from the forty-ninth parallel to the frozen Artie. Jack Norworth sitting in his cabin dreaming, while his " Bunkie" tinkled away on a Mandolin, playing to his own tune "Mandalay," and as he caught the words—"On the road to Mandalay where the flying fishes play, and the dawn comes up like thunder outer China cross the Bay,*' his thoughts took another course; "for it was in the silence that proceeds the dusk, as it does the dawn," when all music is sweet and forgotten faces arise to haunt, he thought of his fast life, of his home, when he had graudated from Oxford, and had told his father that life in England was too slow for him. So he had left home to have a fling at his King's Colonies; he had spent his time in Africa and from there to Australia. At this point his head sunk into his hands and he felt a scar. Ah, that reminded him of a street brawl in Sydney, when he was attacked by a bunch of "Thugs," and had only escaped with his life by the intervention of a stranger, whose timely assistance and good fighting had saved him. He v well he recalled it. The fellow was a young Englishman like himself by he name of Johnstone, whom he was very grateful to, and had promised the't if he, Jack Norworth, would ever have the chance to repay him he would do it." Tiring of Australia he had made his way to Canada, the greatest of all Colonies, and thence to Edmonton, where he joined the North-West Mounted Police, and a pretty figure he had made when he had first received his gaudy uniform. But now it was different; for on the young man, with the twitch of the swagger stick, and the lift of the shoulder which gave a hint of the devil-may-care; fatigue and suffering, thirst and cold had drawn their marks, but the lift of the eye brow and thin nostril was still there, and they were the real marks of breeding. His work had trained down his lean frame, "For he had been weighed in the heavy balances of the North and had not been found wanting." Tap, tap; some one was knocking at the door. "Come in," called Jack. It was the Corporal of the Guard, who saluted, and said, "The Colonel desires your presence immediately." He again saluted and retired. The bugles were sounding "retreat" as the young officer made his way to head-quarters wondering what was to be his mission. Coming to the long building in the center of the quadrangle be knocked. "Come in," said a gruff voice in reply to his knock. He opened the door, advanced, and saluted, a look of inquiry upon his face. Colonel Mines grown gray the in service, looked him over with admiration, which he tried hard to conceal, then tersely said, "You and Sergeant Walker are to start to-morrow for the dead-man's country, for contraband whiskey dealers." Jack saluted and went his way, to look up the sergeant, to get his instructions for the long, nerve racking journey into the Northland. He found the sergeant writing a letter home, the last he would ever write for all ke knew, for the ice and men are treacherous and one never knows when he will succumb to cither. He asked for his instructions, but the sergeant told him he knew best, and to take only necessities. The next morning when the first streak of dawn came across the plains, two men in a canoe could be seen pushing their way up the river. They had eaten their breakfast before daybreak, and their muscles were aching at their new exercise. The world before them seemed even more inhospitable and wind-swept than the land they had left below them to the west. The air was filled with flying snow, the river seemed a writhing snake fighting against them. The wind blew against them with terrible force, and the cold nipped every limb like a famishing white wolf. For the long hazardous journey up the Mackenzie had begun, for twelve hundred miles these two had to push their way Northward, representing the enraged British government. Day after day passed, the Great Slave lake was crossed, then Smith Rapids, Athabasca lake and Athabasca river were reached until at last the land of "frozen snows" under the "Great Bear" where there was nothing but silence, but continue they must, for the maxim, of the Force is "Maintain le droit" which means, "go where you are sent," and they were of the Force. Gaining the "Laird," they bore swiftly down upon the North-Mackenzie, reaching that broad stream without mishag or a glimpse of even a company runner. Turning into the Mackenzie they began the long southern tack, paddling steadfastly against the current, which goes smoothly down to the Artie sea. After weeks of travel they reached tne outer edge of the " Dead man's country" or "No man's land." Then for the first time, their tired muscles relaxed for their journey was fast coming to an end. Dusk came down. They drew ashore, made camp in the screen of a willow- fringed beach, boiled their tea, and after singing fragments of an old