Balto and the Great Race (5 page)

That dog also refused to move. The musher had seen this sort of behavior
before. He knew exactly why neither dog would lead. They could no longer pick up the trail through the high winds and blowing snow.

In other words, they were lost.

Then, in his position close to the rear, Balto strained in his harness and barked. Still crouching by the unmoving lead dog, Kaasen turned to look at Balto. He could barely see through the haze of snow, but Balto’s body language was clear.
He
knew which way to go.
He
knew the trail.

Kaasen didn’t waste another minute. Once the dogs realized that a new leader had picked up the trail, they would follow him without question. Kaasen unharnessed the second lead dog and put Balto in his place. Within moments, Balto was pulling the sled forward quickly and confidently.

Compared with his human musher, Balto didn’t depend as much on his vision. Balto knew this trail—he knew its smells, he knew the feel of the land beneath his feet. Even in the blackest of night with snow erasing all hints of the landscape, Balto could sense the sea to his left. He could feel the rocky spread of the Topkok region to his right. He could recognize the presence of the Bonanza River several miles ahead.

Clinging to the sled, Kaasen marveled that Balto could even put one foot in front of the other.

The wind screamed into Balto’s face, but he did not turn from it. Instead, he strained forward, and the dogs behind him followed his example. Balto breathed in snow along with the bitter wind, but he only pulled harder.

Kaasen was relieved. He was completely lost, but Balto was not. Though by now Kaasen could not even see the lead dog through the thick, blowing snow, he could feel how confidently Balto was pulling. With every step, Balto was sending his musher a message—
Trust me. I’ll get us home
.

Kaasen needed no convincing. He trusted Balto’s instincts completely.

After a time, Kaasen stopped the sled and checked each of the dogs. He found that the blowing snow was freezing on their eyelids. Ignoring the cold, he crouched over each dog and gently wiped the ice and snow from its eyes. He went to Balto last. The lead dog was trembling, either from strain or from his eagerness to get going again.

Kaasen gave Balto’s eyes one final rub,
then took his place on the sled. Balto could not have heard Kaasen calling commands over the howl of the storm; but he needed no direction. As soon as he sensed that Kaasen was securely on the sled; he sped forward.

In the heart of the blizzard, Kaasen never saw the buildings of Solomon to their right. The town’s lights and the shapes of its buildings had been erased by the snow. Inside one of those buildings was the message for Kaasen from the Nome Board of Health telling him to wait for the blizzard to be over.

Outside; Balto and the team ran on.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
Past Port Safety

In spite of the storm, the team was making good time. Kaasen guessed they were about ten miles from Port Safety. He was hoping they would soon be safe and warm when suddenly the team came to a full stop.

Kaasen leaped off the sled. He kept one hand on the line connecting the dogs as he felt his way toward Balto. Powerful, blinding gusts of wind struck Kaasen. If he became separated from the team, he might
not find his way back to them. Running his hands from one dog to the next; he found Balto standing rigid. Kaasen could not see even eight inches in front of him, so he ran his hands over his lead dog to feel for a clue.

Balto was not holding himself like a dog who had lost the trail. His body position showed that he sensed something dangerous ahead. As Kaasen ran his hands down Balto’s legs, he immediately discovered the problem.

Balto was almost up to his knees in water. They were on the ice, and it had begun to give way. If Balto had taken one or two more steps, he would have gone through the ice. The dogs behind him, linked together by the harnesses, would also have gone down.

Taking Balto’s harness in one hand,
Kaasen led the team around to the left and back in the direction they had come from. Once they were safely away from the broken ice, Balto leaned forward in his harness to show he was ready to go on.

Kaasen climbed back onto the sled. Balto carefully picked his way forward. After what seemed like an eternity, Kaasen felt the sled tip skyward as it was pulled
up a riverbank. Balto had found secure passage over the ice. For the moment, they were safe.

Invisible to Kaasen, the trail inched closer to the sea on the team’s left. The team had to pull the sled out onto the ice of Norton Sound for a short distance before reaching Port Safety. The sled now seemed to be going over a fairly flat surface, so Kaasen guessed that they might already be on the ice.

It was not smooth going.

The ice was taking a beating from the blizzard. The blowing wind was pushing it toward the barrier of the coast, forcing whole slabs up and on top of each other. Driftwood had been tossed up out of the ocean and lay everywhere. The dog team had to be very careful not to run into it.

A fierce gust of wind tossed the sled
high into the air as if it were a child’s toy. Kaasen felt the sled flying for what seemed like an eternity as he clung to the handles. Finally he landed on the ice with a sickening thud. He skidded for many feet before coming to a stop.

Still clinging to the sled, which was now on top of him, Kaasen caught his breath as Balto barked anxiously. Kaasen was shaken but not hurt. And he could tell by the sound of Balto’s bark that the dogs were all right as well.

They had been very lucky.

Kaasen climbed to his feet. Then he ran his hands over the dogs’ harnesses to make sure the lines were clean and untangled. Balto stood very still, understanding what needed to be done before they could go on. One of the other dogs impatiently leaped to his feet and began to pull. Balto
barked and growled at him until the dog sat down again.

While Balto kept the team in line, Kaasen carefully turned the sled over to an upright position. Checking the runners, he was relieved to find that neither of them
had broken in the accident. In fact, the sled didn’t seem to be damaged at all.

They could head on to Port Safety without losing any more time. The musher quickly ran his hands over the back of the sled to make sure the crate of antitoxin was still tightly tied on. The dogs tensed as Kaasen cried out in dismay.

The crate was gone!

Giving Balto a command to stay put, the musher dropped to his knees. Gripping a line leading back to the sled with one hand, he blindly felt his way over the snow and ice. He swiped furiously in the dark with his free hand. Every few seconds, he inched forward a foot or so and swept his hand in an arc through the snow.

Finally, his groping hand connected with something solid and box-like.

It was a miracle! In the midst of the
darkness and snow; Kaasen had found the crate. He dragged it back to the sled and tied it on.

The worst of their troubles was behind them. They encountered no more obstacles. Balto led purposefully and the dogs reached incredible speeds.

The wind died down a little. Kaasen kept a lookout for Port Safety. Suddenly he saw the Port Safety roadhouse, where he was to transfer the serum to Ed Rohn and his team.

All the lights were out.

Kaasen thought quickly. He knew that Rohn was probably at the roadhouse but asleep. Rohn could be awake and have his team in their harnesses within an hour. But every second counted, and Balto had never looked stronger or more determined. Clearly, the lead dog did not want to stop.

Nome was just over twenty miles away. Balto’s confidence decided the matter. The team sped by Port Safety without a backward glance.

Several hours later, at dawn, Balto and the team thundered into Nome. Slowing the sled to a crawl on Front Street, the dogs barked and howled in celebration.

In Nome’s tiny hospital, the light in Dr. Welch’s office suddenly flicked on.

CHAPTER TWELVE
Nome Again

Within moments, Kaasen, Balto, and the other dogs were surrounded by well-wishers. Helping hands unharnessed the dogs and untied the crate of antitoxin. The citizens of Nome cheered Kaasen, but he kept shaking his head.

It was Balto, he kept telling them. It was Balto the whole time. Balto found the trail. Balto got them through. If it had been left to him, Kaasen said, they would still be lost in the blizzard.

Inside the hospital, the musher knelt over the crate as Dr. Welch eagerly pried it open. In spite of the accident, none of the vials were cracked or broken. Nurse Morgan had the syringes ready for the first doses of the serum.

Dr. Welch’s and Nurse Morgan’s expressions changed from excitement to concern when the first vial was taken out. The serum was frozen solid. They spent an anxious few minutes carefully thawing it. The serum seemed to be all right, but only time would tell.

Within the day, it became obvious that the serum had remained effective in spite of having been frozen. Up and down the streets of Nome, in their houses and in the hospital, sick children were beginning to get better. The epidemic was finally under control.

It had been just over five days since the serum had been carefully unloaded at the train station in Nenana. The entire country had followed the unfolding drama in newspaper reports. Word was triumphantly
telegraphed across the United States that the relay teams had been victorious. The children of Nome were safe at last.