The man's parka was ragged, his knuckles cracked. His heavy beard was frosted white, and with every step he took, he left a faint red stain on the snow. He staggered down the hill to the Yukon, deliriously muttering to himself, but determined to reach civilization. Sergeant Preston was driving his team, when he saw the man reach the banks of the Yukon, and there he wavered on his feet before pitching head first into a snow bank...