CHAPTER ELEVEN
Danger

August 16, 1900

Nine days of panning and not one nugget.” Sally was knee-deep in water, tilting her pan back and forth and side to side. Her legs were bare, her skirt was caught up in her belt to keep it dry, and her hair was tucked under her hat. “A flake or two, yes, and flour, which is filling my vial. But if we are to buy a cabin, I need to find something bigger.”

I stared into the water where it rippled over the rocks, intent on a different kind of prize—a silvery salmon. Hunger was always on my mind, even though I had caught several hares and a ptarmigan and found nests of birds’ eggs and a lush gooseberry patch. I might not be courageous, but my stomach drove me to be a patient and crafty hunter for food.

Sally picked the pebbles out of the pan and tossed them in the river. Then she dipped the pan in the water again and began to shake and swirl the sand and gravel that remained. “Though I am getting better at this. It’s good Mr. Smithson made me practice.”

I cocked my head, listening—not to Sally’s words, but to another sound in the distance: a rumble. A storm? So far, we’d been lucky—only light rain and fog that hadn’t kept me from hunting or Sally from prospecting. Storms on the tundra could be fierce, but the sky was blue to the horizon.

“I’ve been keeping count of the days, Murphy. If Mama left with the ship, she should be halfway to Seattle. Do you think she did go?” Sally sounded anxious. “I wouldn’t blame her for leaving me after what I did.” She jutted her chin. “But I had no choice. I was not returning to San Francisco.”

Sally dumped the sand in the pan back into the river. “No gold. Not even a flake.” She sighed. “Maybe when we get back to Nome, Grandpapa will be there. He said he was coming on business. What business, you ask?” She shrugged. “‘A young girl does not speak of such things with an adult.’” She said in a Mama-like voice. “I say ‘humph’ to that.”

Whap! A salmon flipped into the air and landed back in the water with a smack. I plunged my muzzle into the water, trying to catch it, but it slipped away.

Another rumble. This time when I lifted my head and sniffed, I could smell the rain in the air. Angry clouds had gathered in the north.

Sally and I had dug a burrow into the half-frozen bank, and she had fitted it with a roof and walls made of oilcloth to keep out the moisture. A veil of netting protected us the mosquitoes. Both of us slept tight as ticks in the hole. It had stood up to rain and the constant wind, but it hadn’t been tested by a storm yet.

“If she’s gone, you and I will still need a cabin.” Sighing, she stood and rubbed her back. “Nome winters will be as fierce as Grandmama.”

Then another sound reached my ears—the howl of wolves. We had heard them at night when we were safe in our burrow. I had also heard them on my trek from Dawson City to Nome. Old Blue had taught me that the pack howled before a hunt and after, but never during.

Ignoring the noises for now, I turned my attention to finding another salmon. A crash across the river startled me and a lone buck leaped from the brush and into the water. He bounded toward us, spray flying skyward and making him look as if he had wings. He charged past so fast, I didn’t even get off a woof.

Sally stared open-mouthed as the buck jumped over the stacked firewood and disappeared. “Did you see that? He was so beautiful—and not at all afraid of us.”

I knew why he wasn’t scared of us. The whites of his eyes and the foam flecking his mouth told me that he was running for his life. The wolves were after him.

Sally bent down and inspected her pan. “Murphy!” she gasped. “A nugget!”

I had no time for gold. If the deer was running from the wolves, the pack would be right behind him, following his trail right to Sally and me.

Whirling, I sprang toward Sally and barked furiously. I rammed her with my head, knocking her in the direction of the burrow. The pan flew from her grasp, plopping into the water. “Murphy!” she screeched. “You made me lose—” Then I saw understanding in her eyes.

Again I pushed her toward the burrow. She dove into the hole and pulled her knife from the sheath. I was prepared to stand guard, but she grabbed my collar and dragged me in after her. Then she yanked the tarp down in front of the entrance.

Wolves had never attacked our dog team or even come into camp when I was with Carlick. But there had always been fires and men with torches and rifles. I did not know what a pack would do if it caught Sally alone and in its path.

Moments later we heard the splashing of bodies and the drumming of paws. I could hear their panting and smell their scent. I shivered and Sally held me close. She was shivering too, but she bravely clasped the knife in front of her.

Then in a whoosh, as if they were a cloud blown by the wind, the wolves passed us.

We waited. “Do you think it’s safe?” Sally whispered. “Oh, it must be safe. I have to find that nugget before it gets swept away!”

Throwing back the tarp, she scrambled from the burrow and ran down to the river’s edge. I trotted after her, glancing uneasily in the direction the wolves had gone. What if the deer doubled back and led them to us again?

“I was standing right there, wasn’t I?” she asked, pointing to an eddy by some rocks. She had a fever in her gaze that reminded me of the buck.

“Or was it over there? Oh, there’s the pan!” She snatched it from the water. “It’s empty!” Dropping it, she dug furiously at the river bottom. “The nugget must be here somewhere.”

I sat on the shore, straining to hear the wolves. The rumbling in the sky turned into a boom, the dark clouds drew overhead, and the wind began to flail the brush along the banks. A storm would soon be upon us. Sally was so intent on finding the lost nugget, she didn’t seem to notice.

Suddenly lightning zigzagged to the earth. It struck so close that my fur crackled. Then the rain came, whipping the river with its gusting torrents.

“No-o-o!” Lifting her head, Sally howled, sounding like a wolf herself. Rain pelted her cheeks and dripped from her hat. Then her shoulders slumped as if she knew there was no use looking. Calling to me, she dragged herself to the burrow. Hurriedly I crawled in after her.

“It’s lost, Murphy,” she whispered as we huddled together, both of us drenched. “That nugget would have bought our cabin and a winter’s stay. But now it’s gone and all is lost.”

I ran my tongue over Sally’s wet cheek. But she stared straight ahead as if she didn’t see me. “What if I have to leave Nome too? What if Grandpapa is in Nome and he makes me go back with him? Oh, Murphy, I can’t go back to Grandmama’s house. Even with you there, it will be intolerable. Lessons and corsets and unreasonable rules that must be obeyed.”

I could hear the despair in Sally’s voice. We had survived the wolves and now faced a storm. But she didn’t seem to care. Whining deep in my throat, I wrapped myself around her, trying to keep us warm, and gently laid my head on her leg.