Sergeant Preston Comics # 20,21,22,23,24

OF THE YUKON

The Case of
"THE

WHISPERING
RA

SERGEANT PRESTON'S ARCTIC DIARY

PERMAFROST

The Arctic has its four seasons, but its foundations never thaw. That is to
say, only from the top twelve or eighteen inches of Arctic ground does the
Freezing cold melt in summer.

This freezing cold, or PERMAFROST, underlies every inch of soil, every
tree and plant— yes, and every river and pond in the Arctic. Buried streams of
water How through the permafrost. Sometimes these streams are under such
pressure that if the heat of an inhabited hut or cabin finally melts the thin
layer of frozen soil above it, the stream will burst upward with almost explo-
sive force— and freeze again when it strikes the below-zero air.

Tree roots cannot work down into the permafrost. Often, in the Arctic, one
will see trees slanting over at odd angles, because their roots cannot grow deep

enough to keep them upright And there is another reason for their queer

tilting: the permafrost is always heaving or lowering the surface soil.

The cold of midwinter keeps sinking deeper in the permafrost for the next
half of the year-and retreating upward toward the surface the second half
of the year. This causes a rising and falling of surface layers which cracks the
foundations of buildings and tilts them out of place.

Owing to permafrost, no water can be piped underground, even in summer!
Residents of the Arctic store household water in indoor tanks or barrels-and
drain all waste water out at ground level, through large pipes, lest it freeze
before it reaches the end!

POSTM.-i-T-i;
SERGEANT PRESTON OF TH:
261 Fifth AvonuD. Ne* York 16,

5. nn Form 3579 to 76 Ninth A
, No. 21. Nov.-Jan. 19S7. Puhliit
<■ T. Depone. Jr.. Prenidritt: H*li

3 Albert P. Delo
■iplion. In U.S. A
York l.N. Y, <£.■

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new oddreH enclosing ■! possible »oui old oddrcss label.

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THE REPORT OF BAGLEY'S PISTOL BLENOS WITH 1
THE SPLINTERING OF WOOD. ..

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--AND SERGEANT PRESTON PITCHES FORWARD.

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because r'o

SHIPPED OUTALL MY
GOLD BEFORE THEY
ARRIVED! AND MY
ORE IS RICH? THEY
HAVE CLEANED
UP QUITE
A STAKE*

THE BUSH TRAMP

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*BY' HELLO-.' J *?\ A A

WELCOME, *

SERGEANT, BUT A
WHERE'S YOUR /

/ I LEFT IT AT TOM \
/ MASON'S. . I'LLTELL J
V YOU THE REST. ^

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I STRUCK IT RICH — A POCKET ---AND 1M J
HEADING FOR DAWSON. .. BUT ['M OUTOF I
GRUBf IF YOU COULD LET ME HAVE S

TsiJReT STRANGER--
I ENOUGH T0 6ET
I YOU THERE '. j— "

LINK BODRY ALIAS "MACKSON" ---YOU ARE \

UNDER ARREST FOR ROBBERY AND ATTEMPTED I

1 vr^ttl MURDER! CUTOUT -/

^MBi YOUR HANDS J

LEADER

OF THE

WOLF

PACK

LIFTING HIS EYES FROM HIS OWN
PORTION. GRAY WOLF SEES THE SUDDEN,
BULLYING RUSH OF TWO YOUNG WOLVES,
DRIVING NEETKA FROM THE FEAST'

THE OTHER FLEES AS THE
GRIM PACK LEADER WHIRLS

ON HIM.

HIS WORR

LIFTED, GRAY WOLF

MEADS BACK TO REJOIN HIS PACK ' HIS MOTHER

WOULD BE QUITE SAFE NOW. HE BELIEVES . . .

MOST BEARS WOULD HAVE FELT NO INTEREST
AT ALL IN A WOLF'S DEN — - OR EVEN IN THE
SCENT OF WOLVES— - 8UT 5ILVERTIP HAD A
SLIT EAR. .

NEVER. NEVER WOULOHE FORGET THAT A WOLF
HAD NIPPED HIM PAINFULLY WHEN HE WAS A
LITTLE CUB ' HIS MOTHER HAO RESCUEO
HIM ---BUT THE SLIT EAR REMAINED
TOREMIND HIMf

THE SOURDOUGH

Gnarled old Ben Thomas, the sour-
dough, walked into Gordon's trading post
and faced the smiling proprietor.

"What is it this time, Ben? I've got a new
kind of canned bread for you." Gordon
held out o can and smiled.

"Now don't poke fun at mp, Gordon.
I've been a sourdough now for thirty years
and I HATE the bannock bread I make with
my sourdough! Is it wrong for a man to
want something good for a change?" Ben
asked Gordon plaintively. "I've been car-
rying this lump of sourdough in my pocket
for months now and I can't stand to eat it."
Ben held up a lump of dough that looked
like putty. It had been crammed into the
some pocket with some cartridges, and
rifle bullets were sticking out of it.

"If you ever bake that, you'll never have
to worry about eating sourdough again!"
Gordon laughed at the thought.

Ben bought some of the new conned
bread and then started out on one of his
endless trips to look for gold in the many
streams in the Yukon.

Ben stopped at the RCMP post at Lake
Brand to see his friend. Corporal Hill.

"Don't go into the territory of the Ongil-
way Indians, old-timer. They're pretty sore
at all white men since they were robbed
last month by some bad hombres!" Hill
warned.

"It's too late for me to worry. Hill. I'm
too old and they won't bother me," the old
man soid.

Ben traveled for two more days toward
the Ongilway Indian region, unworried by
Hill's warning. That night he made camp
and tried some of the canned bread that
Gordon had sold him.

"This bread is mighty finel At least, I
won't have to eat any more bannock bread
made out of sourdough!" Ben looked dis-
gustedly at the lump of sourdough mixed
with rifle cartridges that he still carried.

"I ought to throw this away, but I'll just
keep it to remind me of what I used to have

to eat," smiled Ben, as he returned it to his
pocket.

Next day, Ben was panning a stream
nearby. Suddenly he looked up to see
three Indian warriors watching him. They
grabbed his arms and dragged him out of
the stream.

"You come with us 6s hostage until Red
Jackets bring us the man who stole from
us," the leading Indian said to Ben.

The Indians dragged the protesting sour-
dough off to their hidden camp in the
mountains. Here, Ben was a captive in the
small hidden Indian village, left under the
watchful eyes of the old men.

"This diet of Indian food is almost as bad
as the bannock bread used to be. Oh, for a
piece of that canned bread that Gordon
sold me!" Ben mused to himself as he ote
some of the berries thai an old man gave
him. "Say, I've still got my lump of sour-
dough. I bet even bannock bread would
taste good now."

Knowing that the young Indian braves
would not let "htm bake his bread, Ben
waited until only the two old braves who
guarded him were left in camp. Then, he
made sign longuoge to the old men. Finally,
he succeeded in getting his sourdough on o
rock by the fire. Then he sat down and
waited for his bread to bake. Worily, the
old men held their rifles on him.

Suddenly, there was the sound of shots,
and Ben looked to see Ihe two old Indians
running from the fire, their guns forgotten.

"The sourdough! I forgot about the rifle
cartridges mixed in with the dough!" Ben
grabbed the rifles and ran out of the camp
toward the RCMP post ot Lake Brand.

Two days later, Ben stumbled through
the door and told his story. Hill helped him
to get to the settlement. Then, he went after
the Indians.

Ben walked into Gordon's trading post
and saw Gordon smiling at him.

"Now don't laugh at me, Gordon. All I
ever want from now on, is a lot of sour-
dough! Yes sir, there's nothing better than
bannock bread." Ben glared at the sur-
prised Gordon.

"But I thought you hated sourdough — "

"Don't you believe it! Sourdough is a
lifesover!" declared Ben.

PRESTON

I'M BARLUM--- AND THESE GENTS ARE NICKY "\~, '
HAWKINS AND SPADE LANGEH.. .WE UNDERSTAND J
TOU OWN SOME WORTHLESS STOCK IN THE OLD iffl ''
l CHINOOK MINE' COULD WE SEE IT? , —

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MEBBE WED LIKE TO BUT IT '

l IF THE PRICE IS LOW ENOUGH.

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/THIS STUFF' X
BUT 1 THOUGHT-- 1
AND YOU JUST /
SAID— IT'S \

^WOKTHteSSf J

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L LAY OUR CARDS ON THE TABLE, TANNER » WE I N.
NI THE STUFF TO SELLTO SOME EASTERN J X

tenderfoot: maybe we can doit, and MAYBE

LBE STUCK WITH IT! SO WHAT'S YOUR PRICE?

WAYOH ANOTHER-- -,
SAID 40/ I DON'T \

IC'S JUDGMENT IS USUALLY
SOUND— -BUT IT'S THE UW THAT
BE SATISFIED, SAM! I'LL
SEE YOU LATER • COME,

A strange new arrowhead ripped into
Sioux shields! Defeat was carta in—unless
they made a journey to . . .
"THE LAND OF THE SMOKES"

INDIAN CHIEF

Only 10c at your favorite DELL Comics Deafei

DILL COMICS ARE COOD COMICS

the Eskimo

'ESKIMO TABLE MANNERS'

At an Eskimo feast, anil in limes of plenty the Eskimos really know how to feast. Knives

are necessary, but forks and spoons — even cups, are unknown. Of course, we are

speaking of the Eskimos who live as their ancestors did. before they had any contact with

while men's refinements.

As their guest you are supposed to do as the Eskimos do. With them, you kneel or squat

on the floor in front of a wooden platter as big as a small table top. You reach into tiie

gravv-covered contents with both hands and come up wilh a large chunk of half-boiled

reindeer meat. Yon lick off the gravy, with loud smackings to show how tastv you think

it is. Then you sink vour teeth into the meat.

The meat is probably too tough to eat without the help of your knife — so jroil cut off the

mouthful, while still gripping it in \our jaws. And your knife had better be sharp!

When the chunk of meat is gone. \ou wipe your hands on your parka — that is good

Eskimo manners! You then dip your cupped hands into the gravy in the platter, and

drink it loudly from them.

.Next come the roasted marrowbones — already cracked (or J ou. The marrow is removed

with fingers or tongue or knife point — again with loud noises. A silent eater in an

Eskimo igloo, is either a sick one or a rude one. who as much as says that he doesn't like

the food.

Y'ou repeat this meal four or five limes a day. while the meat lasts. And. if you live the

way Eskimos do, your appetite will be as good as theirs.

Uave. Mom and Dad -fake you dowh -fo
see-fhe ten new-foys IN TOVLAMD/

Here's just one of the many
plastic toys you must see
/ ,/ IN PERSON!

A sea and air combat set to test your skill
against your friends or family. The "target"
is a red and white plastic battleship. Your
choice of "weapons": plastic atom torpedoes
you fire from a submarine, or plastic bombs
you drop from a B-29 model plane. Hit the tar-
get and whooah-the battleship "explodes!"

lade by Thomas Manufacturing Corp., Newark 5, N. J

GO SEE the brand-new toys made of Monsanto plastic today. They're
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these new plastic'toys will be the most play-full toys you ever bought!
Monsanto Chemical Company, Plastics Division.

K.dil Monionto doesn't moke toyi. We ntpply toy monu-
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