hard…bitten；　who　had　been　buried　so　deeply　inside　the　Circle　that
  they　did　not　know　there　was　a　Klondike　Strike。　　The　news　he　brought
  them　was　their　first　word　of　it。　　They　lived　on　an　almost　straight…
  meat　diet　of　moose；　caribou；　and　smoked　salmon；　eked　out　with　wild
  berries　and　somewhat　succulent　wild　roots　they　had　stocked　up　with
  in　the　summer。　　They　had　forgotten　the　taste　of　coffee；　made　fire
  with　a　burning　glass；　carried　live　fire…sticks　with　them　wherever
  they　travelled；　and　in　their　pipes　smoked　dry　leaves　that　bit　the
  tongue　and　were　pungent　to　the　nostrils。
  Three　years　before；　they　had　prospected　from　the　head…reaches　of
  the　Koyokuk　northward　and　clear　across　to　the　mouth　of　the
  Mackenzie　on　the　Arctic　Ocean。　　Here；　on　the　whaleships；　they　had
  beheld　their　last　white　men　and　equipped　themselves　with　the　last
  white　man's　grub；　consisting　principally　of　salt　and　smoking
  tobacco。　　Striking　south　and　west　on　the　long　traverse　to　the
  junction　of　the　Yukon　and　Porcupine　at　Fort　Yukon；　they　had　found
  gold　on　this　creek　and　remained　over　to　work　the　ground。
  They　hailed　the　advent　of　Tarwater　with　joy；　never　tired　of
  listening　to　his　tales　of　Forty…Nine；　and　rechristened　him　Old
  Hero。　　Also；　with　tea　made　from　spruce　needles；　with　concoctions
  brewed　from　the　inner　willow　bark；　and　with　sour　and　bitter　roots
  and　bulbs　from　the　ground；　they　dosed　his　scurvy　out　of　him；　so
  that　he　ceased　limping　and　began　to　lay　on　flesh　over　his　bony
  framework。　　Further；　they　saw　no　reason　at　all　why　he　should　not
  gather　a　rich　treasure　of　gold　from　the　ground。
  〃Don't　know　about　all　of　three　hundred　thousand；〃　they　told　him　one
  morning；　at　breakfast；　ere　they　departed　to　their　work；　〃but　how'd
  a　hundred　thousand　do；　Old　Hero？　　That's　what　we　figure　a　claim　is
  worth；　the　ground　being　badly　spotted；　and　we've　already　staked
  your　location　notices。〃
  〃Well；　boys；〃　Old　Tarwater　answered；　〃and　thanking　you　kindly；　all
  I　can　say　is　that　a　hundred　thousand　will　do　nicely；　and　very
  nicely；　for　a　starter。　　Of　course；　I　ain't　goin'　to　stop　till　I　get
  the　full　three　hundred　thousand。　　That's　what　I　come　into　the
  country　for。〃
  They　laughed　and　applauded　his　ambition　and　reckoned　they'd　have　to
  hunt　a　richer　creek　for　him。　　And　Old　Hero　reckoned　that　as　the
  spring　came　on　and　he　grew　spryer；　he'd　have　to　get　out　and　do　a
  little　snooping　around　himself。
  〃For　all　anybody　knows；〃　he　said；　pointing　to　a　hillside　across　the
  creek　bottom；　〃the　moss　under　the　snow　there　may　be　plumb　rooted　in
  nugget　gold。〃
  He　said　no　more；　but　as　the　sun　rose　higher　and　the　days　grew
  longer　and　warmer；　he　gazed　often　across　the　creek　at　the　definite
  bench…formation　half　way　up　the　hill。　　And；　one　day；　when　the　thaw
  was　in　full　swing；　he　crossed　the　stream　and　climbed　to　the　bench。
  Exposed　patches　of　ground　had　already　thawed　an　inch　deep。　　On　one
  such　patch　he　stopped；　gathered　a　bunch　of　moss　in　his　big　gnarled
  hands；　and　ripped　it　out　by　the　roots。　　The　sun　smouldered　on　dully
  glistening　yellow。　　He　shook　the　handful　of　moss；　and　coarse
  nuggets；　like　gravel；　fell　to　the　ground。　　It　was　the　Golden　Fleece
  ready　for　the　shearing。
  Not　entirely　unremembered　in　Alaskan　annals　is　the　summer　stampede
  of　1898　from　Fort　Yukon　to　the　bench　diggings　of　Tarwater　Hill。
  And　when　Tarwater　sold　his　holdings　to　the　Bowdie　interests　for　a
  sheer　half…million　and　faced　for　California；　he　rode　a　mule　over　a
  new…cut　trail；　with　convenient　road　houses　along　the　way；　clear　to
  the　steamboat　landing　at　Fort　Yukon。
  At　the　first　meal　on　the　ocean…going　steamship　out　of　St。　Michaels；
  a　waiter；　greyish…haired；　pain…ravaged　of　face；　scurvy…twisted　of
  body；　served　him。　　Old　Tarwater　was　compelled　to　look　him　over
  twice　in　order　to　make　certain　he　was　Charles　Crayton。
  〃Got　it　bad；　eh；　son？〃　Tarwater　queried。
  〃Just　my　luck；〃　the　other　complained；　after　recognition　and
  greeting。　　〃Only　one　of　the　party　that　the　scurvy　attacked。　　I've
  been　through　hell。　　The　other　three　are　all　at　work　and　healthy；
  getting　grub…stake　to　prospect　up　White　River　this　winter。　　Anson's
  earning　twenty…five　a　day　at　carpentering；　Liverpool　getting　twenty
  logging　for　the　saw…mill；　and　Big　Bill's　getting　forty　a　day　as
  chief　sawyer。　　I　tried　my　best；　and　if　it　hadn't　been　for　scurvy　。
  。　。〃
  〃Sure；　son；　you　done　your　best；　which　ain't　much；　you　being
  naturally　irritable　and　hard　from　too　much　business。　　Now　I'll　tell
  you　what。　　You　ain't　fit　to　work　crippled　up　this　way。　　I'll　pay
  your　passage　with　the　captain　in　kind　remembrance　of　the　voyage　you
  gave　me；　and　you　can　lay　up　and　take　it　easy　the　rest　of　the　trip。
  And　what　are　your　circumstances　when　you　land　at　San　Francisco？〃
  Charles　Crayton　shrugged　his　shoulders。
  〃Tell　you　what；〃　Tarwater　continued。　　〃There's　work　on　the　ranch
  for　you　till　you　can　start　business　again。〃
  〃I　could　manage　your　business　for　you　…　〃　Charles　began　eagerly。
  〃No；　siree；〃　Tarwater　declared　emphatically。　　〃But　there's　always
  post…holes　to　dig；　and　cordwood　to　chop；　and　the　climate's　fine　。　。
  。　〃
  Tarwater　arrived　home　a　true　prodigal　grandfather　for　whom　the
  fatted　calf　was　killed　and　ready。　　But　first；　ere　he　sat　down　at
  table；　he　must　stroll　out　and　around。　　And　sons　and　daughters　of
  his　flesh　and　of　the　law　needs　must　go　with　him　fulsomely　eating
  out　of　the　gnarled　old　hand　that　had　half　a　million　to　disburse。
  He　led　the　way；　and　no　opinion　he　slyly　uttered　was　preposterous　or
  impossible　enough　to　draw　dissent　from　his　following。　　Pausing　by
  the　ruined　water　wheel　which　he　had　built　from　the　standing　timber；
  his　face　beamed　as　he　gazed　across　the　stretches　of　Tarwater
  Valley；　and　on　and　up　the　far　heights　to　the　summit　of　Tarwater
  Mountain　…　now　all　his　again。
  A　thought　came　to　him　that　made　him　avert　his　face　and　blow　his
  nose　in　order　to　hide　the　twinkle　in　his　eyes。　　Still　attended　by
  the　entire　family；　he　strolled　on　to　the　dilapidated　barn。　　He
  picked　up　an　age…weathered　single…tree　from　the　ground。
  〃William；〃　he　said。　　〃Remember　that　little　conversation　we　had　just
  before　I　started　to　Klondike？　　Sure；　William；　you　remember。　　You
  told　me　I　was　crazy。　　And　I　said　my　father'd　have　walloped　the　tar
  out　of　me　with　a　single…tree　if　I'd　spoke　to　him　that　way。〃
  〃Aw；　but　that　was　only　foolin'；〃　William　temporized。
  William　was　a　grizzled　man　of　forty…five；　and　his　wife　and　grown
  sons　stood　in　the　group；　curiously　watching　Grandfather　Tarwater
  take　off　his　coat　and　hand　it　to　Mary　to　hold。
  〃William　…　come　here；〃　he　commanded　imperatively。
  No　matter　how　reluctantly；　William　came。
  〃Just　a　taste；　William；　son；　of　what　my　father　give　me　often
  enough；〃　Old　Tarwater　crooned；　as　he　laid　on　his　son's　back　and
  shoulders　with　the　single…tree。　　〃Observe；　I　ain't　hitting　you　on
  the　head。　　My　father　had　a　gosh…wollickin'　temper　and　never　drew
  the　line　at　heads　when　he　went　after　tar。　…　Don't　jerk　your　elbows
  back　that　way！　　You're　likely　to　get　a　crack　on　one　by　accident。
  And　just　tell　me　one　thing；　William；　son：　　is　there　nary　notion　in
  your　head　that　I'm　crazy？〃
  〃No！〃　William　yelped　out　in　pain；　as　he　danced　about。　　〃You　ain't
  crazy；　father　of　course　you　ain't　crazy！〃
  〃You　said　it；〃　Old　Tarwater　remarked　sententiously；　tossing　the
  single…tree　aside　and　starting　to　struggle　into　his　coat。
  〃Now　let's　all　go　in　and　eat。〃
  Glen　Ellen；　California；
  SEPTEMBER　14；　1916。
  STORY：　　THE　PRINCESS
  A　FIRE　burned　cheerfully　in　the　jungle　camp；　and　beside　the　fire
  lolled　a　cheerful…seeming　though　horrible…appearing　man。　　This　was
  a　hobo　jungle；　pitched　in　a　thin　strip　of　woods　that　lay　between　a
  railroad　embankment　and　the　bank　of　a　river。　　But　no　hobo　was　the
  man。　　So　deep…sunk　was　he　in　the　social　abyss　that　a　proper　hobo
  would　not　sit　by　the　same　fire　with　him。　　A　gay…cat；　who　is　an
  ignorant　new…comer　on　the　〃Road；〃　might　sit　with　such　as　he；　but
  only　long　enough　to　learn　better。　　Even　low　down　bindle…stiffs　and
  stew…bums；　after　a　once…over；　would　have　passed　this　man　by。　　A
  genuine　hobo；　a　couple　of　punks；　or　a　bunch　of　tender…yeared　road…
  kids　might　have　gone　through　his　rags　for　any　stray　pennies　or
  nickels　and　kicked　him　out　into　the　darkness。　　Even　an　alki…stiff
  would　have　reckoned　himself　immeasurably　superior。
  For　this　man　was　that　hybrid　of　tramp…land；　an　alki…stiff　that　has
  degenerated　into　a　stew…bum；　with　so　little　self…respect　that　he
  will　never　〃boil…up；〃　and　with　so　little　pride　that　he　will　eat　out
  of　a　garbage　can。　　He　was　truly　horrible…appearing。　　He　might　have
  been　sixty　years　of　age；　he　might　have　been　ninety。　　His　garments
  might　have　been　discarded　by　a　rag…picker。　　Beside　him；　an　unrolled
  bundle　showed　itself　as　consisting　of　a　ragged　overcoat　and
  containing　an　empty　and　smoke…blackened　tomato　can；　an　empty　and
  battered　condensed　milk　can；　some　dog…meat　partly