ON THE EDGE OF THE GOLD-FIELDS.
The little party of gold-seekers had every cause to congratulate
themselves, for after a journey of nearly two thousand miles from
Seattle, through wild passes, dangerous rapids and cañons, over
precipitous mountains, amid storm and tempests, with their lives many a
time in peril, half frozen and exhausted by the most wearisome toil,
they had arrived at Dawson City, in the midst of the wonderful gold
district of the Northwest, all without mishap and in better condition
than when they left home.
The boys, in roughing it, had breathed the invigorating ozone and
gained in rugged health and strength. Youth and buoyant spirits were on
their side, and their muscles, which would have become flabby in the
unwholesome atmosphere of a store, were hardened, and their endurance
and capacity for trying work immeasurably increased. There are
thousands of men to-day enjoying life, without an ache or pain, who owe
their splendid condition to the campaigning they underwent in the war
for the Union. If that terrific struggle swept multitudes into their
graves, it brought the balm of strength and health to many more, who
otherwise would not have lived out half their days.
The trying experience of Jeff Graham in his youth and early manhood did
this service for him. It was not strange, therefore, that he with his
iron muscles bore the strain better than any of his companions. He
seemed to be tireless, and his sturdy strength often put others to
shame. He had never sapped his constitution by dissipation; and it may
be said that the severe hardships of that journey from Dyea through
Chilkoot Pass and the wild regions about the Upper Yukon confirmed that
which already existed within his splendid make-up. As for Roswell
Palmer and Frank Mansley, their excellent home training, not denying
credit to the grim old miner for his wise counsel, had held them free
from the bad habits which too often make boys effeminate and weak and
old before their time. Gifted by nature with the best of constitutions,
they had strengthened rather than undermined them. Neither had known an
hour's illness throughout the long, laborious journey, and they were in
the best condition possible for the great task that now confronted
them.
As for Tim McCabe and Ike Hardman, their weakness lay in yielding to
the temptation to drink. No such temptation appeared on the road, and
their enforced temperance had the best effect. Tim was less disposed to
drink than the other, but, sad to say, he indulged at times. Hardman's
ideal was to obtain the means for doing nothing and minister to his
base appetites.
It was in 1887 that Dr. George M. Dawson, the leader of an exploring
expedition sent by the Canadian Government into the Yukon district,
made a report confirming the presence of gold in vast quantities
throughout that section. The principal mining camp established there
was named in his honor. It faces on one of the banks of the Yukon
River, along which it extends for about a mile. It has a sawmill,
stores, and churches of the Baptist, Presbyterian, Methodist, and Roman
Catholic denominations. Being the headquarters of the Canadian
Northwest mounted police, it is one of the best-governed towns on the
American continent. At the time of our friends' arrival its population
was about four thousand, but the rush will swell it in an incredibly
short while to ten, twenty, and possibly fifty times that number, for
beyond question it is the centre of the most marvellous gold district
that the world has ever known.
Copper, silver, and coal are found in large quantities, but no one
gives them a thought when so much of the vastly more attractive yellow
metal is within reach. It is singular that while the existence of gold
was incontestably known for many years, little or no excitement was
produced until 1896 and 1897, when the whole civilized world was turned
almost topsy-turvy by the bewildering reports. During the first three
months of the latter year more than four million dollars were taken
from a space of forty square miles, where a few placer claims were
worked. What harvest will be during the next few years no man dare
attempt to guess. How suggestive the fact that on one stream so much of
the metal has been found that it was given the name "Too Much Gold
Creek!"
Inasmuch as our friends are now on the ground, a few more facts are
proper, in order to understand the task that confronted them. Dawson
City, it will be remembered, is in British territory, and all the great
discoveries of gold have been made to the east of that town. Doubtless
gold will be gathered in Alaska itself, but the probabilities are that
the richest deposits are upon Canadian soil.
The mining claims begin within two and a half miles of Dawson City, on
the Klondike, and follow both sides of that stream into the interior,
taking in its tributaries like Hunker's Creek, Gold Bottom, Last
Chance, Bear Creek, Bould's Bonanza, and El Dorado. Of these the
richest are El Dorado, Gold Bottom, Hunker, and the oddly named Too
Much Gold Creek. The last is the farthest from Dawson City, and the
least known; but there can be no question that numerous other streams,
at present unvisited, are equally rich, and will be speedily developed.
Just now placer mining is the only method employed. According to the
mining laws of the Northwest, the words "mine," "placer mine," and
"diggings" mean the same thing, and refer to any natural stratum or bed
of earth, gravel, or cement mined for gold or other precious mineral.
There is very little quartz mining, or crushing of rocks, as is
practised in many sections of California. This requires expensive
machinery, and little necessity for it seems to exist in the Klondike.
In placer mining the pay dirt is washed by the simplest methods, such
as were practised in California during the pioneer days.
Everything was hurry and bustle at Dawson City on that day, late in
May, when our friends arrived. It was a noticeable fact that the date
of their arrival was exactly two months after the boys kissed their
parents good-by in San Francisco.
Tim McCabe had gathered much practical knowledge during his experience
in this region, while Jeff had not forgotten what he passed through "in
the days of '49," to which wisdom he had added, as opportunity
presented, while on the way to the Klondike. When the party had eaten
together at the principal hotel and the men had lit their pipes in a
group by themselves, a surprise came. The old miner smoked a minute or
two in silence, and then turned to Hardman, who was sitting a little
apart, moody and reserved.
"Ike," said he, "I've stood by you all the way from Juneau, hain't I?"
The fellow looked wonderingly at him, as did the others, none
suspecting what was coming.
"In course," was the gruff reply of Hardman; "we all stood by one
another, fur if we hadn't we wouldn't stood at all."
"You've got to Dawson City without it costing you a penny, haven't
you?"
"There hain't been much chance to spend money since we left Dyea,"
replied Hardman with a grin.
Jeff was nettled by this dodging of the issue; but he kept his temper.
"And if there had been you hadn't a dollar to spend onless you kept
back some of that which you stole from Tim."
"I don't see the use of your harping on that affair," said Hardman
angrily. "I've owned up, and am going to make it all right with Tim.
It's none of your business, anyway, and I don't want to hear any more
of it."
[Illustration: "I DON'T SEE THE USE OF YOUR HARPING ON THAT AFFAIR,"
SAID HARDMAN.]
"Well, what I'm getting at is this: if it hadn't been for me you'd
never got to this place. You're here, and now you must look out for
yourself; I won't have you an hour longer in the party; we part; get
away as soon as you can!"
Hardman looked savagely at the old miner, as if suspecting he had not
heard aright. But a moment's reflection convinced him there was no
mistake. With a muttered imprecation he rose to his feet and left. But
it was by no means the last of him.