Original subtitles

A successful story teller knows that good fiction

Downloaded from YTS.MX

frequently involves some element of fact

and Jack London was one of the most successful story tellers in the world.

Official YIFY movies site: YTS.MX

He would, we therefore hope,

be indulgent if in telling his story we blend with fact a little fiction.

The autumn of 1897. Jack London, a young socialist from San Francisco,

with his friend, Merritt Sloper, arrived in Skagway, Alaska,

the start of the worst of all journeys, the route to Dawson City,

in Canada's almost unknown, Yukon Territory.

This was a moment when the world had gone mad with... Klondike Fever!

KLONDIKE FEVER

SKAGWAY, ALASKA

United States Territory August 1897

Skagway!

Someone said it looked like the gate to hell!

Can't be all that bad if there's gold on the other side.

Skagway midnighter... Thank you, sir.

Out of the way!

We're going to make our fortunes! We're gonna take our weight in gold!

Oh, goddamn it! London! Jesus.

Damn socialists, you don't know nothin' about.

This way we're gonna get a march on 'em, and get our provisions,

get the hell out of this goddamn, mud forsaken...oh, Jesus. Come on, London!

Get up, don't get involved in that.

No, no... Jesus! We'll do with you.

Look out!

Come on, we're wastin' time, we gotta get out of here!

What was that all about?

Just keep looking straight forward, it's all part of the fun.

There'll be nine of them, faced down in the mud,

before we get out of this town tonight,

and I don't want the tenth one to be any silly young,

green arse partner of mine.

My partner's gotta have enough wick to get up over the holly pass,

and that means going times back and forward.

-Look, you go get the supplies, okay? -Yeah, well, I goddamn better.

I'm gonna find a camp site, because I'm not gonna sleep in the mud this night.

Here, take this. That'll take care of my part of the supplies, alright?

-Fine socialist wad you got. -Ay, supper.

Here.

Jesus! We're not carryin' these goddamn books any further. Shit.

Does anybody know where I can get the best provisions in town?

You do what you're told, and you're gonna make somebody a good sled dog.

Hey, Ryan. This one's got a name. Reckon he was someone's lap dog?

Buck.

Let's see if you remember your name when I get through with you, eh?

Get off me! Get off me! Someone get this dog off me!

Can you believe this mongrel? Take this!

Who in the hell are you?

-How much you want for the dog? -He ain't mine.

-Well whose is he? -Mr. Smith's.

-Is he around? -No.

And he don't like people poking their noses into his business, hey?

-What kind of name they give you, boy? -Name on the collar says "Buck".

You crazy bastard.

Easy, boy. I ain't gonna hurt ya.

Nobody's gonna hurt ya no more.

Easy. That's it. That's a good boy.

That's it.

There's nobody gonna hurt ya. No, nobody's gonna hurt ya.

You can tell your Mr. Smith that I'll be back later to pay for him.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, you can't take that dog.

Who's stoppin' me? No!

Come on, Keish, in ya go. That's a good boy. That's it.

-Mr. Thornton? -Yeah?

I'm Jack London.

I heard your dogs and I was wondering if you could fix this one up for me.

Yeah. Come on.

Alright, put him down over there.

-Over here? -Mm-hmm.

Good God. Are you the one who gave him the beating?

I'm sorry.

You don't know me.

Did he do that? I better bandage him.

-Look over him first, please? -Alright.

Look, I've just made a pot of coffee. Help yourself.

-Pour me a cup too, would you? -Yeah.

Alright there, old chap. Where did you find this fellow?

I took him from down the street, where all the other dogs are.

Oh, yeah. Will Ryan. Black beard? Teeth like a beaver?

Yes, I know him. Breaks dogs for sled work.

How long before he'll be ready to go?

Well, you better leave him with me. Be a couple of days, maybe three.

Well my partner's not gonna like that.

-You heading for the gold fields? -Yes sir.

Right.

Thank you, Mr. Thornton, for all your help.

-You're welcome. -I'm gonna go pay for him.

What, are you buying him from Smith?

Yes. Who is this Smith?

Jefferson Randolph Smith, also known as Soapy Smith.

He comes from down south somewhere. But he got his nickname in Colorado.

Sold twenty-five cent shaving soap for five dollars.

Made people believe there was a twenty dollar bill hidden in every cake.

Well is he an important figure here in Skagway?

Mr. London, Soapy Smith owns Skagway.

It's robbery. I don't think they're that cheap.

Hey, what's your hurry, partner?

Hey! Aren't you gonna stop and talk? We're still partners, remember!

-Jeez, where the hell are ya going? -Klondike Saloon.

-You must have a terrible thirst on. -Yep.

Come to think of it, I could use a drink myself.

Not the oyster you're after, is it.

Nope. Gonna buy a dog from a man named Soapy Smith.

Dog? We don't need a dog.

-Soapy Smith? -That's right.

Jesus. I been hearing about nothin' but Smith all day.

What Smith wants around here, he takes. And what he takes, he keeps.

Suppose he don't want to sell you his dog.

He will.

London!

I have to talk to you.

Whatever you're doing, it doesn't smell right! London!

London. London.

-Where's Smith? -Who wants him?

Nobody. Nobody. I mean, what I mean to say is, my partner here,

he's heard a lot about Mr. Smith. A lot of fine words,

and he's just purely eager to have an admiring look at him.

-Isn't that so, London? -I want to see Smith, now.

Well maybe you better talk to him over there.

-You mean the big fellow? -No, the little fellow playing cards.

He'll tell you all you want to know about Mr. Smith.

That's not necessary.

-Are you Soapy Smith? -That's my name.

I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure.

Jack London. I'm here to buy a dog you supposedly own.

Jack London. My handler didn't get your name when you were stealing my dog.

Your handler was beating the dog to death,

and I didn't steal him, I came here to pay for him. How much?

Five hundred dollars.

Five hundred...

That's a lot of money.

-Give me four hundred. -You're crazy to buy a dog!

-Give it to me. -I haven't got that much left.

I bought the gear, remember? Listen, London.

These people aren't the kind of people to get fancy with.

All in. You want the seat? There it is.

Finished already, gentlemen? I had a feeling your luck was about to turn.

No doubt you'll recoup it all, and more, another day!

-What about this young gentleman? -His name is Jack London.

Mr. London, I present to you Mr. Gates. Mr. Gates, Mr. London.

Resounding name. Are you a wagering man, Mr. London?

Sometimes. But not blackjack. Too slow.

Oh, with your pleasure. Draw, stud.

I like to cut high card.

Sit down, Mr. London. Yes, I'm Bill Gates.

Friends and enemies call me Swiftwater. Got the name the summer of '84.

Friends of mine saw me take a fully loaded boat, single-handed,

down to a vicious tributary at the Gordaleen.

-And what have we here, Mr. London? -It's Jack.

It's a hundred dollars.

My dear, young friend.

That money and you have kept company a good, long time, haven't you?

Are you sure you want...

What I'm sure I want to do, Swiftwater, is shuffle the cards.

It's your namesake card, friend.

-Mr. Gates. -You can still call me Swiftwater.

Give me a chance to get it back.

-You want to bet two hundred? -Three hundred.

Put it on the table.

I don't have it with me, but I can get it if I lose.

Of course you can. And you will.

-Hundred on Swiftwater. -Not likely!

Oh, Jesus!

We dance a little each time, don't we, Jack?

It certainly seems that way.

You've had your little run of luck, and very good luck it was, too.

I suppose you're going to take your winnings now and leave.

Let it ride.

Mr. London...

I'm beginning to get he feeling that I've been had.

-Five hundred dollars. -The dog is not for sale.

In addition to all things I've heard, you're a two-faced Welshing liar.

Jesus!

And you, my friend, are arrogant, courageous, ambitious...

and a little boy.

-Don't patronize me! -Oh my word, we're literate, too.

Put it down, we're not going to get anywhere that way.

You crazy, son of a bitch kid!

You do one more stupid thing like that, I'm gonna bust up our partnership!

Suit yourself.

Jesus! London!

Any one of them! Any one of the buggers.

See, they can turn out bullshit ten pounds a minute.

Maybe they ain't read as many books.

I bet any one of 'em would be saner

than the idiot son of a bitch I saddle myself with. Oh, Jesus.

Look... We got an early start tomorrow morning,

I bet we can get most of this stuff out by Porcupine Hill,

give us a good push up the White Pass. Did you hear me, London?

-I said, if we get a good start early... -I heard you.

Well, give me a sign of life, for God's sakes!

How far do you think we can get tomorrow morning?

That depends on if Buck's ready to travel.

Buck? Jesus, are you crazy? Are you serious about taking that dog?

You greasy son of a bitch. Jesus!

You're gonna get us killed before we leave town, for Christ's sakes.

That's a hell of a thing we have to lug all the way over the pass.

It sure is, but wait until you start working with it.

Got the son of a bitch! Come creepin' in here, quiet as an Indian.

Lucky I sleep light, I got him before he woulda jumped ya!

-Not true! I came to talk! -Bullshit!

Smith sent him in here to kill ya.

-What do you want, Swiftwater? -Let me go.

There.

Now, you and your partner are heading for Dawson City, aren't ya.

-So? -I've got to get to Dawson.

-Well what's stoppin' ya? -I should be there.

I work gold rushes, every one.

Including California in '49, I was just a boy, younger than you, I imagine!

Slick-talkin' son of a bitch,

can swing around a point faster than a compass needle in the North Pole!

-Swiftwater. -Jack...

You see, this would have to be the very last strike that I'm involved in.

My last chance. And with Dawson City just sitting up there, waiting for me?

I can set myself up in a fancy saloon, and inside a year, I can retire.

All I've gotta do is get there!

Then why don't you let Soapy Smith send ya.

It's Smith I'm trying to get away from!

You want to leave, you walk away!

I'm a gambling man. I can't find the cure.

I've even got a rash here that won't heal. I'm proficient at cards.

Nobody, well, very few, can beat me at the pace boards.

But I can't seem to stop there,

and I've made some disastrous wagers in other areas.

What's that got to do with Soapy Smith?

I owe him money. A great deal.

You do good fleecin' the marks up at the saloon.

Why don't you pay him out of your winnings?

Because the more money I make, the higher Smith's rates climb.

He's made sure I'll never be able to pay him back, as long as I'm here.

Take me along with ya, Jack. Take me with ya to the Klondike, will ya?

You know what he wants, don't ya? Protection.

He's lookin' at us to keep Soapy Smith off his back.

-That's the truth, isn't it? -I'll pay you. Anything you ask.

You could pay me every bar of gold in the US mint

and it still wouldn't be enough.

Not for gettin' on the knife side of Soapy Smith, no, sir. My vote's no.

Sorry, Swiftwater.

I understand. It was a forlorn hope, in any case.

-What are you gonna do, Swiftwater? -I'll think of something.

I'm gonna go check on Buck.

Look at this, boys! We're gonna make a fortune!

We're gonna take out our weight in gold!

-Where is he, anyway? -Keep your voice down, he's alright.

And why can't we head to the Klondike the way we said?

Because it would be dangerous for London to go by way of the White Pass.

This other trail starts from a place north of here.

It's known as the Chilcoot.

If London wants to go another way, that's his business.

I'm taking the White Pass.

Believe me, it would be wiser for you to travel together,

and the Chilcoot is better.

-I'm takin' the White. -Alright.

When you meet Soapy Smith's men on the way,

you can explain that you're no longer Jack London's partner.

I'm taking the Chilcoot.

CHILCOOT PASS

Canadian Border September 1897

-This your last trip? -Yeah.

Well stack your stuff up there and come down and join this line.

-This your last trip? -Yes it is.

Stack your stuff up there and come down and join the line.

Is this your last trip? Stack yourself up there and come down, join this line.

I am much obliged. You are a good man.

Hold it right there! Get down there!

-I wish you good luck. -Thank you.

-You go back down? -Yeah, I'll just, two more.

-Good luck, my friend. -Thank you.

Good luck.

Okay, stack your stuff and come back down again.

-This your last trip? -Yeah.

Okay, stack yourself and come back down to this lineup.

Hold it right there. Now get back in line.

-What for? -Canadian customs.

-Is this gonna take long? -I don't know.

You'll be interviewed when it's your turn, by Superintend Steele.

Now get back in line.

-Interviewed? -That's right.

Do you know what kind of trip we just made?

-I'm not gonna line up. -Get back in line.

Listen, Steele.

-Did you say Sam Steele? -Ay, that's right.

You listen to me. You listen to me good.

You and your big goddamn mouth has already got us in enough trouble.

And I'm warnin' ya. And this time I mean it.

Don't you run afoul of Sam Steele.

-What is he, a policeman? -Yeah, he's a policeman.

He's the policeman, around here.

Everybody in the North Country knows him.

They don't call him the Lion of the Yukon for nothin'.

-Is that so? -Yeah. Yeah, it's true.

He's put down rebellions. He's kept Sittin' Bull sittin'.

He's helped drive a railway, across this here country.

-Which one of ya is Jack London? -I am.

You're aware of the requirements for proceeding on Canadian soil?

Every member of your party must have sufficient provisions to last a year.

-Yes, sir, we have them. -My men will check.

I'm sure you'll find everything in order, sir.

I understand you spent some time in jail. Buffalo.

You seem to know a lot about my past.

It's my job. Every policeman is part-time historian.

Does the history book tell you why I was in jail?

Vagrancy.

Do you believe that, sir?

Jesus Christ, London, take it easy, will ya?

-Is there any reason why I shouldn't? -No, sir. Policemen.

It was policemen, who charged in on a bunch of hungry, unarmed men,

whose only crime was looking for honest work.

It was policemen who bloodied us with their clubs.

And it was policemen, who locked us up, without a trial,

in a stinking jail, for a whole month.

Jesus, London. Christ.

Are you finished, London?

That depends on if you pass us through, sir.

What if I don't?

I expect I might find a few more things to say.

-We don't allow riff-raff into this... -Now look, Superintendent!

You look. I will not be interrupted while I'm speaking. Is that clear?

I've been giving the responsibility for keeping the peace in the Yukon.

That's exactly what I'm going to do. Don't be troublemakers here.

-You and your partner... -Now just one fat minute.

If you think him and I are gonna be troublemakers for you up here...

London! God.

I apologize.

-No, say what you were going to say. -No sir, I don't believe I will.

What I would like to say, though, although you may not pass me through,

I hope you don't let my partner here suffer for the way that you feel for me

Is there any reason why I should let either of you pass?

Yes, sir, we've come for gold, not trouble.

-Gold. Gold can make trouble. -We want to go to the Klondike, sir.

I have no more questions.

Thank you, sir.

Does that mean you're going to let us through?

See that you respect the law.

Hot damn! Uh, we're going to, we will, sir. We're going to.

Come on, Buck.

LAKE LINDMANN September 1897

We finally made it, Sloper. Lake Lindmann.

There's enough wood out there to build a thousand boats.

All's we had to do is build just one.

And now we're gonna see if your muscle's as big as your mouth.

Come on, Sloper, let's get at it! Yee-haw!

Christ, he's goddamn biting me.

Well, save me you, stupid son of a bitch, flea-bitten dog!

Goddamn! What the hell are ya laughin' for, ya goddamn idiot!

It's you that chose this stinkin' goddamn route in the first place!

You clumsy bastard!

And you're not gonna get me going up the hill again!

What's up there can stay up there, Jesus.

Well, these trees here good enough for ya?

Best I've seen. We'll mark the whole stand.

Hey, you can't cut trees here. All those trees belong to us.

We'll split at the camp, I'll take Ryan. Well where's your mark?

We claimed them early. We had no time for marking.

Come on, Sloper!

Look. Put your mark on the trees are yours.

No mark, no claim. You understand what I'm saying?

Come on.

Hey! How'd you ever get past Mr. Smith?

How'd you get past Steele?

I didn't think they let riff-raff into this territory.

I got work in Dawson City. I train dogs.

Yeah, so I've seen. You can just go get your own trees, Beaver Face.

Get the old man!

Well go ahead and kill me!

What?

You better kill me now while you got the chance.

'Cause if you don't, one day I'm gonna kill both of ya.

Get out of here.

Get out.

Nice, Buck. Thank you.

Thanks, Buck?

There she goes! Timber!

The best damn boat I ever built, this one.

Well I'd sure as hell hate to see the others.

This here boat's as sea-worthy as any other...

That's not saying a hell of a lot, Sloper.

-Hey Sloper, take a look at this? -What are ya lookin' at?

-Stop! -Jesus!

-Jack! Jack London? -Swiftwater!

Hey London!

-Jack, my boy. -Hello, Swiftwater.

And the esteemed, Mr. Sloper.

Don't say you crossed the mountain in that.

You know he didn't, it's impossible.

You know damn well he did.

When it comes to the desire for comfort, my dear,

the impossible becomes merely difficult.

Your luck sure has changed, hasn't it, Swiftwater?

I told you I'd think of something. Now come along!

I'll introduce you to my companions,

though I do wish you were a trifle more gentilely attired.

-You got women? -Not so loud.

What's the matter? Don't they know they're women?

Sloper, these are not women.

These are ladies, with considerable theatrical talent.

You got dancehall girls?

I have nothing so mundane! These ladies were the toast of Denver.

They've come north to admire the wonders of the Yukon.

Yeah, they've come here to cash in on the old gold rush.

Jack, you have such a delicate way with words.

Let me say this: the ladies come well-recommended,

and with cold hard cash, they plan to establish a saloon in Dawson City.

A glittering palace,

dedicated to the pleasure and comfort of the trail-weary prospector.

And who better to escort them through the vicissitudes of...

What's he doing here?

He says he's on his way to Dawson City.

-And Soapy Smith? -I haven't seen him.

I can't begin to tell you how difficult it was to get out of Skagway.

If Smith should follow me... They would never allow it, would they?

Ladies.

May I present, Miss Belinda McNair, my friends Jack London and Mr. Sloper.

Gentlemen.

Miss McNair has graciously consented to become my wife.

Let's not starve arrogance with water.

I told you I'd never marry a gambling man.

I assured you my wagering days are long gone.

But you lie, a lot. I hear you have a boat. Which one is yours?

That one over there.

-How much do you want for it? -Well, it's not for sale.

Everything's for sale. What's your price?

Miss McNair, my partner and I here,

we built that boat to take us to the gold creeks,

and I don't think there's anything that could persuade us to sell it.

I do admire a man with principles. Ladies. You can come out now.

This is Gertie. And here's Louise.

Reached out, then realized, it was dead.

She held him for a long time, stroking his hair, and kissing his closed eyes.

She reached for the dagger in her scabbard.

She plunged it into her heart!

She lay beside him,

and with her last bit of strength, she took his hand in hers.

That was beautiful, Jack.

-It was so sad. -It was beautiful.

Shakespeare would've been proud, my boy.

I never know anyone who could dish out so much, beggin' your pardon, ladies,

bullshit as you, Jack.

Gertie, it's time you and Louise went to bed.

-I'm not tired, Belinda. -Yes, you are.

But you said I could stay up as long as I wanted to.

I changed my mind.

-Alright. Which is my tent? -Take your pick.

-Goodnight, Jack. -Goodnight, Louise.

-Goodnight. -Goodnight, Gertie.

How about a look at your boat?

It's gettin' too dark to look at the boat.

-We can feel our way, can't we? -Sure. Sure.

Hey, that's some good looking woman.

Enterprising. She'll make a good wife.

You ain't serious about that, are ya, Swiftwater?

Mr. Sloper, at my age, a man is always caught between a laugh and a tear.

Almost as full of shit as Jack is.

Your boat would do just fine, for me and the girls, and Swiftwater.

It may be good for you, but what about Mr. Sloper and me?

-We could squeeze you in. -Belinda, he's my partner.

Too bad. Could've been an interesting trip.

But if that's the way you feel about it...

You're not thinking about trying him.

Why not? He has a boat, all ready to sail, probably likes money.

Be careful of him, Belinda.

I'm careful of every man I meet, Swiftwater. Lest you forget.

The last thing I need is one of Soapy Smith's men, on a long river trip.

Books...

Smells like rain. I said, it smells like rain.

Not a chance.

How about that? Does it smell right for tomorrow?

Come to the White Horse Rapids before too long.

From what I hear about them, maybe we better portage around 'em.

-We'll lose too much time. -Better than losin' the goddamn boat.

Especially after all the rain we've been havin'.

Them rapids is gonna bang us around like a court.

Help! Over here! Jack! Sloper! Help!

-Help! Over here! -Jack, help!

-Hey, look over there! -Jesus!

-Jack! Over here! -Mr. Sloper! Help!

It sure isn't Indians, is they?

Help! Jack!

-Jack! It's Belinda! -Jesus.

-I wonder what happened to them. -Come on.

When we woke up, Ryan was gone with the boat.

Swiftwater went to see if he could hire some men to carry our baggage.

I would say there isn't much chance of his finding anybody in this wilderness.

He's been gone almost three days.

The girls and I were on a point of taking what we could carry,

and starting out after him,

but, now that you and Mr. Sloper have come with your boat,

you can save us all those days of walking, can't you?

I'll be back in a little while.

Ryan. That dirty, no good, son of a bitch!

Those rapids are gonna bang us around like a cork.

-What's that noise? -What noise?

-You never hear anything. -I hear what I want to.

Listen to her. She never says no because she never hears the question.

-Well, at least I get asked. -Girls...

This is going to have to come down.

-Shall I help? -Yeah, you can.

Mind your boat.

Oh, God.

-Jesus! Holy... -Oh, dear God.

Ladies.

Take... careful. Your hand?

-Anyone offering breakfast? -Swifty!

Belinda, my love,

it confounds logic how you can manage to look totally exquisite,

no matter what the hour or circumstance.

Good to see you again.

I assume you gentlemen brought these ladies through the rapids? My gratitude

Our boat was stolen, or I would've easily brought them through myself...

I'll think of you, often.

Goodbye, Belinda.

-Bye, Jack. -Goodbye, Louise.

-Bye. -Goodbye, Gertie.

You folks will probably get into Dawson City in about six days.

Well it's not goodbye, young Jack.

You'll be in Dawson, one of these days, I'll lay three to one on it.

-Swiftwater. Are you betting? -Manner of speech!

I think there's a distinct possibility that we'll meet again, one day soon.

I hope so, my friend.

Sloper, come on! We got a long track ahead of us.

We want to get to that cabin before that snow comes.

Yeah. Alright, goodbye.

-Goodbye? -Yeah, I reckon.

-What's that supposed to mean? -I'm gonna go with them.

What?

Yeah, I just decided. I'm gonna go with them.

What the hell are you talking about? Sloper?

I don't understand you.

And I don't think that's real good for a proper partnership.

You're not supposed to understand your partner.

Yeah ya are.

The hell you are. I've never understood you, Sloper.

Yeah, but you see, I don't get on your nerves, the same way you get on mine.

You're gonna be alright.

And these people here they need a pilot to help 'em get 'em down the river.

-Stay with me, Sloper. -No, I'm going with them.

But I can't make it on my own. I need ya.

You never needed anybody in your whole young life.

I do now.

Hell, maybe I'm gettin' old.

Jesus!

Goddamn, son of a bitch kid! Jesus!

You get me into all kinds of trouble with that goddamn mouth of yours!

You know, you're the...

You goddamn near, you near killed me. You know that.

Jesus.

You, and what, and what's the use of trying to explain anything to ya?

You never listen!

Well, you folks, you better get going.

Come on, what the hell are you waiting for?

You don't want them to get the gold first, do ya?

STEWARD CREEK November 1897

Gonna have to call it quits any time now. For the winter.

Maybe like right now.

When you don't want him to talk, he pushes up bullshit so fast,

you can't knock it down with a shovel, and when you do want him to talk...

Sloper? Quick!

-What? What is it? -I don't know.

Jesus. Oh, Jesus.

I knew it was fool's gold.

-Gold. -Gold.

Gold? Real?

Real enough.

"Sailor or lands. There is some sort of cape horn for us all."

"Boys, be aware of it. Prepare for it in time."

"Gray beards, thank God it has passed."

Just as I thought. It's all bull. What's it mean?

That everybody goes through a big crisis.

It affects the rest of their whole life.

Why doesn't he just come right out and say it, then?

Sloper, if I could say things just half as well as he does...

It's just the wind, Buck.

Did you hear somethin', boy?

Hey, someone's been around here.

You're gettin' cabin fever. You too.

Good boy. Yeah. Good boy. Yeah.

It's that son of a bitch, Ryan!

I don't know, but who cares!

-Where to? -Sunny San Francisco. Come on!

Cover me!

Cover me!

-Where you going? -I'm going on the roof.

-What the hell for?Go! -Can't you smell?

Keep firing!

I didn't know this was the road to Dawson.

I came to drink that cup of coffee.

I'm glad we could give you a little entertainment.

Mr. Thornton?

Sloper. Sloper. Sloper?

Sloper?

You reckon this could be Cape Horn?

What?

It's something we were talkin' about the other night.

We've got to get him into Dawson, fast. You got any blankets in there?

All you've got! Mackinaws, anything.

DAWSON CITY

Yukon Territory December 1897

Hang on, Sloper, we're almost there.

The doc will fix you up, and then we'll go see the girls.

Come on, Buck! Come on, Buck! Hike!

That's it, hike, Buck! Hike!

Out of the way, please!

Hey, listen. What's happened here?

-Can't you see? -Dr. Riddle. Where can I find him?

He's burned to a crisp. They say he was stone drunk.

We've got a wounded man here. Is there another doctor?

-Not in Dawson. -Wait a minute.

The priest, Father Judge, he's not a doctor, but he's got a place.

Fell to the Father Judge is sick himself, near dead.

Alright, Jack. Pardon me, sir. Hike! Hike!

You try not to talk, okay Merrit?

This will have to do for now, but we can't leave him here all night.

I know. It's too cold in here.

-I'll be back as soon as I can. -Alright.

Jack! How marvelous to see you again.

Jack, you're not being nice, not nice at all.

Yeah. Hey, look I'm in a hurry. Is Belinda around?

-Belinda? -Yeah.

Yeah. Somewhere. See ya, Jack.

I'm sorry.

Jack? Jack. Isn't it perfect, just the way I always dreamed it be.

Jack, come with me, come with me. John, a brandy for Mr. Jack London.

I need your help.

-Belinda. -Look at it. Just look at it.

Belinda, Sloper's been shot and he needs a doctor.

That's terrible, Jack. The nearest doctor is in Circle City.

He can't travel anymore, and I need to find a place...

Belinda? You wanted to talk to me about something.

-If it's about your percentage... -Gertie?

Jack. I knew I'd see you sometime.

I do want to see you, Gertie, but not now.

-If it's about your percentage... -Later. Later.

-Jack, can't the doctor help you? -No, I tried, there wasn't anybody...

Belinda, Sloper's in a bad way! I need some help!

-We don't give credit. -Belinda, we're out of whiskey.

We can't let that happen, now can we, Jack? Wait for me. I won't be long.

Belinda... Belinda!

-Stillwater! -We're gonna make us rich.

We're gonna take out our weight in gold...

Things are terrible in Dawson, Jack. Cold. People, hungry.

Merritt Sloper was on that trail. He helped you get here.

All's I'm asking for is a room where he'll be warm, and...

Jack, you've just arrived. You haven't had a chance to see what Dawson's like!

Beds are at a premium.

Maybe a couple of the girls will double up for a few days. Just to...

Jack...

Jack, come back and see me some time?

What's it gonna cost me?

-Jack. -Hey, try not to talk.

So much talking... Big mouth.

Big mouth.

-I'm gonna make it, Jack. -Damn right you are.

-Jesus. I'm cold. -Yeah, I know. I know.

But I'm gonna find you a place that's warm, okay? Okay?

-We gotta get him outta here. -Yes, I know. But where?

I'm going back to that saloon. If they don't let us have a room,

they can darn well let us put him in the kitchen.

At least it's warmer there.

What's the matter, Buck?

Jack!

You, let them for the night. Got a hard day.

You, come back here. London. Yes, London.

You've come to Dawson City after all? London?

Come on, boy. That's it, that's it.

You alright? I'll pour some hot coffee into ya.

And you have no idea who did it?

I'm sorry, London. Truly sorry.

I'm also sorry about something else that I have to bring up at this time.

But, the law is the law.

Did you and Thornton bring any firearms into town?

If you did, I have to take them from you.

You'll get them back when you leave, of course.

Did you?

Rifles.

No handguns. Well that's alright then.

It's the handguns. They're the ones that cause the trouble.

No shooting. You want to make sure that there's no shooting in Dawson.

That's right.

And what about the lying, and the cheating, and the stealing?

What about a town that's so cold, and greedy, and heartless,

that nobody in it would lift a finger to save a man's life?

London.

No, there's not any shooting in your beautiful little town, Superintendent.

But there's no humanity, either.

There's no pity. No love.

Just the law. The great, blind law.

Jack! Jack, over here! It's me, Swiftwater!

I've gotta talk to ya! Jack!

Listen. I came to tell ya. Soapy Smith's in Dawson.

He's lookin' for both of us! Will ya listen? He's after us!

He wants to kill us. At least come over here where we can talk.

-Where are you going? -Over here.

Listen. I'm going into hiding until he leaves.

A place where he'll never find me.

You can come too, we'll both be safe. But we've gotta hurry, Jack.

Wait a minute. You came looking for me? Your risked your life.

I haven't got time to stand around talking. Are you coming?

You go ahead. Go ahead, Swiftwater.

Go on.

I want to thank you for taking care of my dog.

He's not yours.

He's my dog, you stole him, and I want him back. Go get him, Ryan.

Big Ed, you better get him out. For some reason that dog don't like me.

Hold it! Back it off, fellas. Back off.

I'm sorry, that's my fault. I forgot about your spirit, Mr. London.

-Suppose we had a race. -Had a race?

A dog race. Your team against my team.

You win, you keep the dog, and I'll throw in two thousand dollars.

And if I lose?

You lose the dog, and you go on my payroll for six months.

I don't know, they're Mr. Thornton's team.

Could I have a private word with Mr. London?

Make it brief.

Jack. You're welcome to the team, you know that, but they're worn out.

They've just come off of a long, hard ride.

-I accept your challenge, Mr. Smith. -Good.

In four days.

Tomorrow morning. One more thing.

If you don't show, you can bet your life on coming back...

Good morning.

-Good luck, Mr. Thornton. -Thank you.

Feel that whip, you're gonna run? Listen, here...

-Have a good race, men. -Thank you.

-Good morning, sir. -Morning, morning.

Jack, you're going to have to pace them.

Now, don't let them start off too fast. But on the other hand...

-Don't let 'em get too far behind. -That's right.

Let's face it. We've got a good looking team there.

Don't worry.

Jack. Jack!

I'm a little upset about Swiftwater.

He just...disappeared last night, and I haven't heard a word since.

It's not like him.

I wouldn't worry about it, I'm sure he'll be back sooner or later.

Jack. I wanted to see you before the race.

I heard about Mr. Sloper, and I am sorry.

Yeah. Well look, I've got some things to do.

I'm ashamed of the way I acted. I guess there's something about this place.

-Good luck, Jack. -Thanks, Belinda.

The rules, gentlemen. The pistol shot will start the race.

We don't open until after the race.

The first team with sled intact to cross this line

will be declared the winner.

Now, gentlemen. Are you ready?

Mr. Swiftwater, an old friend of yours is waiting to get paid.

Ready?

Ride! Hike, Buck, Hike! Hike!

Swiftwater.

Wait a minute. Don't touch the lady.

Alright. You go stand by the door, go on.

I don't know, Swiftwater.

I never thought you'd be a recluse. Sit down.

I've been doing a little accounting and I've come to the conclusion

that the money you owe me just about adds up to your equity in this saloon.

Smith...

I'll tell you what I'll do.

You're a gambling man, and I take a chance from time to time,

so we'll cut the cards for it.

If you win, you get your share of the saloon back, and we're even.

But if you lose, I get the whole thing.

-I can't do that. -Why not?

The other half is not mine to gamble with.

That's a pity. That is a real pity.

I advise you, my friend, to make some other arrangement.

Pull, you mongrels! Pull!

Come on! Hike! Come on, hike!

No. Absolutely not.

Belinda, it's cards. I've handled them all my life.

-Are you crazy? -I'll win.

My saloon.

He owns the other half, right now.

You rascal.

Just a minute.

-Do you want to shuffle? -My cards.

-What? -You can't do that.

-Do what? -Use your own cards.

You don't think I'm gonna play with his cards, do you?

Mr. Smith. You could at least use a fresh deck.

-We'll play with these. -Not in Dawson City, Mr. Smith.

Bring out a fresh deck. I'll break the seal, examine the cards.

-What do you think you're doing? -Keepin' ya honest.

My honesty is none of your business.

This is my town. That makes it my business.You'll play with a fresh deck.

Just a minute. Now you listen to me.

I've been planning this much too long to let anybody interfere.

Anyone, and especially you. Just a second.

I'm going to give you a word of advice,

if you'd like to achieve your highly flaunted ambition, my friend.

I have a lot of friends in your government.

Good friends in high positions.

I want you to get out of my way, and I want you to stay out. Is that clear?

I thought it would be.

I asked for a new deck of cards. May I have them, please.

-These are ready for play. -I'm not.

-What do you mean, you're not? -Just what I said. I'm not playing.

I merely made you a sporting proposition,

which I no longer wish to extend.

-But you can't. -Yes I can.

-You won't give me a chance? -No.

The race!

That's it, Smith! We'll bet on the race! I'll take Jack London.

-Swifty. -No, wait. Wait, wait, wait.

I find that very interesting. Very interesting, indeed.

Cards are bad enough, but a dog race?

Look at the man. Him and his friends.

How long do you think you'll last with him in here?

Same stakes?

The same. Jack's gonna win, Belinda. I know he will.

-They're coming! -Go on, go see who it is. Move!

Swiftwater. Swiftwater.

Now, come on. Come on. Just pass the finish. You've done it!

He won. London won. Ryan's dead.

-Swiftwater? -Mm-hmm.

Promise me you'll never gamble again, not even cards. Swear it.

-Will you marry me? -Only if you swear.

-I swear. Who won? -Jack won.

Well, looks like I owe you some money.

Why don't you come work for me?

And end up like Ryan?

Ryan was stupid, he had no spirit, intelligence.

-Come on now, work for me. -You're in my way.

-Jack... -Move.

Mr. Smith. I want you out of this town.

You can't run me out of this town.

I can, before dark.

What are you talking about, before dark?

Nobody travels in this country at night, they'd freeze to death.

You will.

Here. You're gonna need this.

Not a word to Belinda.

Everybody sing!

Order!

Now, one minute past midnight. The Sabbath has begun.

Everybody out.

-Come on... G'nite, boys. -Sorry.

Goodnight, everybody!

-Goodnight girls. -Goodnight.

-Goodnight. -Goodnight.

-See you in the morning, Charlie. -Yeah, goodnight. Goodnight.

Rascal!

Goodnight, my children. Pleasant dreams.

There's always tomorrow. Goodnight.

We're gonna be rich, boys. We're gonna make a fortune.

We're gonna take out our weight in gold.

-Well, good luck, son. -Thank you, sir.

Come on, Buck. Come on, boy. Come on.

In the spring of 1898, Jack came back to Dawson City,

sailed down to the verge of the mouth of the Yukon,

shoveled coal to pay his passage,

and arrived back in San Francisco with just five dollars in his pocket.

Then, he sat down to right, about the Klondike,

and the people he'd met on his journey.

But that, as Jack would've said, is another story.

KLONDIKE FEVER

Subtitling CLAUDIA DOBRE