To Win or to Die

George Manville Fenn
To Win or to Die, by George
Manville Fenn

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Title: To Win or to Die A Tale of the Klondike Gold Craze
Author: George Manville Fenn
Illustrator: Paul Hardy
Release Date: May 8, 2007 [EBook #21377]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TO WIN
OR TO DIE ***

Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England

To Win or to Die, A Tale of the Klondike Gold Craze, by George
Manville Fenn.

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This is a tough tale about tough men. Right from the first chapter we
are living with men who are fighting for survival, the enemy being as
often as not other men who would rob them. Chapter after chapter
leaves the heroes in some new desperate plight, which, when overcome,
is almost at once replaced by yet another one.
It is not a very long book, and it is very well illustrated, but it is a
breathless race from one peril to the next.
I cannot say that you should enjoy or be entertained by reading of
other peoples' misfortunes, but the author intended that you should be
so entertained, and you will be.
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TO WIN OR TO DIE, A TALE OF THE KLONDIKE GOLD CRAZE,
BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN.
CHAPTER ONE.
A BREAK-DOWN.
"It's a lie! I don't and I won't believe it."
The speaker half whispered that, and then he shouted, "Do you hear?"
There was a pause, and then from the face of a huge white snow-cliff
there came back the word "hear."
"Well done, echo!" cried the speaker.
"Echo," came back.
"Thankye; that's quite cheering; anything's better than that horrible
silence. What do they say? When a man gets in the habit of talking to

himself it's a sign that he is going mad? Once more, it's a lie! A man
would go mad in this awful solitude if he didn't hear some one speaking.
Snow, snow, snow, and rock and mountain; and ugh! how cold! Pull up,
donkey! jackass! idiot! or you'll freeze to death."
The speaker was harnessed by a looped rope to a small, well-packed
sledge, after the fashion of one who tracks about along the Thames; but
how different here! No sunny river, no verdant flowing mead or
hanging summer wood, but winter, stern winter in its wildest, and the
heavy sledge, in answer to the tugging at the rope, now sticking fast
amongst the heaped-up stones frozen together in a mass, now suddenly
gliding down sharp slopes and tripping its owner up, so that again and
again, during an awful day's tramp, he had fallen heavily. But only to
struggle up, shake the snow from his fur-lined coat, and continue his
journey onward towards the golden land where the nuggets lay in
wondrous profusion waiting the bold adventurer's coming--heaped-up,
almost fabulous riches that had lain undiscovered since the beginning
of the world.
He, the toiler, dragging that sledge, in which were carefully packed his
gun, ammunition, spare clothes, blankets, stores, and sleeping-bag of
fur, had started at daylight that morning from the last outpost of
civilisation--a miserable shanty at the top of the tremendous pass he
had surmounted with the help of the men who occupied the shanty and
called themselves guides; and then, after repacking his sledge and
trusting to the landmarks ahead and a pocket compass, he had boldly
set off, ready to dare every peril, for he was young, sanguine,
well-armed, strong, and nerved by hope and the determination to
succeed.
It was only a brave struggle over the mountains, and then down into the
river valley beyond, to leave the winter behind with its pain and misery,
and meet the welcome of the summer sunshine and--the gold.
That morning it was winter indeed; but the adventurer's heart was warm,
and the way through the mountains was plain, while the exertion sent
the blood tingling through his veins till he glowed as the rugged miles
were mastered.

Then there was the halt and a seat on the sledge for a hasty meal upon
the tough provisions; but how delicious every mouthful was!
Then forward again, refreshed for the journey onward, to some snugly
sheltered spot where he could camp for the night and sleep in his fur
bag, regardless of any number of degrees of frost.
But as the afternoon wore on, the sledge seemed to grow more heavy,
the way wilder and more stern, and the stoppages frequent.
He
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