ON THE WAY TO JUNEAU.
"Get up, Randy! Don't you know we are to start for Alaska to-day?" cried
Earl, at six o'clock on the following morning. "Come now, turn out."
"Oh my, but I'm tired still!" grumbled Randy, as he stretched himself.
Nevertheless, he hopped out of bed a moment later and was dressed almost
as soon as his brother. They had barely finished when their uncle came
to summon them to breakfast.
"We'll hunt up those tools and then I have a little private business to
attend to," announced Foster Portney. "So we must move lively."
Breakfast, the last meal to be eaten in San Francisco, was quickly
disposed of, and then followed a half-hour's inspection of various
picks, shovels, and gold-washing pans at a hardware store that made a
specialty of miners' tools. The boys were greatly interested, and, as
Earl said, it made them feel more like prospectors to own a pick and a
shovel each. The final bundle was made and shipped to the steamboat
dock, and Foster Portney left them.
"Meet me at the dock at eleven o'clock," he said, as he hurried away.
The boys had still several private matters to be settled. Their trunks
were to be sold, also some old clothing. At the hotel they obtained the
addresses of several dealers in second-hand goods, and they had one of
the dealers call and look at the stuff. He offered ten dollars for the
lot; and, as they did not see their way to doing better, they accepted
his terms, and the goods were removed without delay.
"Let us take a walk around while we have the chance," said Earl. "It is
only ten o'clock."
Randy was willing, and off they started up Market Street to the City
Hall, and then back and into Montgomery and Kearney streets, taking in
all the sights as they went. Almost before they knew it, it was time to
go to the wharf.
"We don't want to keep Uncle Foster waiting," said Earl; but when they
reached the wharf their uncle was nowhere in sight.
The crowd which had collected to see the gold seekers off was a large
one, and more people kept coming every moment. The almost magic name,
Klondike, was on every tongue, and there were hundreds who expressed the
wish that they were going along.
"Alaska is full of gold!" one man declared. "Full of gold! All you've
got to do is to locate it."
"That's just it," said Earl to his brother. "If you can locate it you're
all right; if not--" and he finished by a shrug of his broad shoulders.
"You're not sorry we're going, are you?" demanded Randy, quickly.
"Sorry? Not a bit of it. But it doesn't pay to be too sanguine, Randy,
my boy."
Quarter of an hour passed, and the jam on the dock began to become
uncomfortable. Brawny men predominated, but there were also many others
there,--wives to bid good-by to their husbands, girls to wish their
lovers good-luck, and children to catch a last embrace from their
parents. Many of the women were in tears, and a number of other eyes
were moist, and altogether the scene was rather a sober one.
"What can be keeping Uncle Foster?" asked Randy, as the minutes to the
time for sailing slipped by. "I don't see him anywhere, do you?"
Earl did not, and he was as anxious as his brother. Back and forth they
pushed their way, but without success. Then Earl looked at the silver
watch he carried. "Ten minutes to twelve!" he ejaculated.
"Let us go on board and stand where Uncle Foster can see us," suggested
Randy, in a tone of voice which was far from steady. Supposing their
uncle should not turn up, what should they do? To go alone on that trip
seemed out of the question.
Luckily they had their tickets, so getting on board was not difficult.
A number of the passengers glanced at them curiously.
"Goin' ter Alaska?" asked one brawny fellow whose face was almost
entirely concealed by his tangled beard. "Well, well! Ain't yer most
afraid ye'll git done up?"
"We'll try to keep on top," answered Earl. The fellow wished to continue
the conversation, but both Earl and Randy were too impatient just then
to listen to him, and moved off to another part of the boat.
Five minutes more had passed and an officer was going around shouting:
"All ashore that's going! We sail in five minutes!" Those to be left
behind began to pass over the gang-plank--it was a hasty handshake and a
last good-by on every side. The boys looked at each other doubtfully.
"If he doesn't come--" began Earl, when his quick eye caught sight in
the crowd of a hat that he recognized. "Uncle Foster! Uncle Foster
Portney! Come on board!" he yelled, at the top of his sturdy lungs.
Mr. Portney, in the jam of people below, heard and looked up. In a
moment he had caught sight of his nephews and he shook his hand at them.
Soon he was mounting the gang-plank, the last of the passengers to come
on board. He was out of breath and gave the boys an odd smile.
"I suppose I gave you a scare," he said. "I didn't mean to be so late,
but those business matters took longer than I intended, and then there
was a blockade of street cars and I had to walk it. But we're all right
now, I reckon," he added, gazing around. "Good-by to San Francisco! When
we see her again may our pockets be lined with gold!" And he took off
his soft felt hat and waved it at the crowd on shore.
The boat was now swinging clear of the wharf and thousands of hats and
handkerchiefs were waving. "There she goes!" "Hurrah for Alaska!" "If
you strike it rich, let us know!" "God be with you!" These and a hundred
other cries rang out, and they were kept up until the steamer was far
out in the stream and on her way up the bay to the Golden Gate.
The run to the Gate did not take long, and by the middle of the
afternoon the steamer was standing out boldly into the Pacific Ocean, on
her way almost due north. It had been rather muggy, and now a heavy mist
set in, and by evening the boys were glad enough to leave the deck and
arrange their stateroom. It contained four berths, two for themselves,
one for Mr. Portney, and the last for a stranger who was down on the
ship's list as Captain Luke Zoss.
"I wonder who Captain Zoss can be?" said Randy to Earl, when the door of
the stateroom was suddenly flung open, and the bushy-bearded man who had
spoken to them on deck came in. He stared at them in surprise for a
second, then burst into a hearty fit of laughter.
"Wall! wall! So it's you as are goin' ter be my messmates on this yere
trip!" he exclaimed. "All right, lads, glad ter have ye." He held out a
brawny hand. "My handle is Luke Zoss, but most of the boys know me as
Cap'n Luke. May I be so inquisitive as to ask your names?"
"My name is Earl Portney, and this is my brother Randy," answered Earl.
The hearty way of the stranger pleased him, and he was sure he should
like Zoss.
"Portney, eh? I used ter know a man by thet name--Foster Portney, o'
Colorady."
"Why, he's our uncle, and he is with us!" cried Randy, and just then his
uncle came in, and he and Captain Zoss shook hands. They had met in
Creede, where Zoss had once been a mining superintendent, and knew each
other quite well.
"All bound fer the Klondike!" exclaimed the captain. "Hooray! We're sure
to strike it, eh, Portney? I know you wouldn't be a-goin' thar unless
gold was to be picked up. Goin' over Chilkoot Pass, I take it." Foster
Portney nodded. "Then we might as well stick together, eh? It will be
better than pairing off with somebody as might be wuss nor a hoss thief,
eh? O' course it would!"
Again the captain shook hands. Then he asked the boys where they came
from and was pleased to learn they were used to a life in the open air.
"I was a lumberman myself onct--up in Michigan," he said. "But thar
wasn't enough excitement, so I gave it up to seek gold and silver.
Minin' and prospectin' just suit me--leas'wise so long as the grub holds
out. One thing is in our favor--scarcity o' men up in them new gold
fields. Now, down in Colorady it's different--all overrun with men, eh,
Portney?"
"Yes, we'll have rather an open field," answered Foster Portney. And
then followed a long discussion about the new gold fields and what might
be expected when Dyea was reached and the terrible climb over the
mountains began. The discussion lasted until ten o'clock, and the boys
listened with interest and picked up many stray bits of information.
Both concluded that the overland trip to the mines would prove every bit
as rough and dangerous as they had pictured it.
The distance from San Francisco to Juneau, Alaska, is, in round figures,
one thousand miles. The _Golden Hope_ was not as large as a regular
ocean liner, yet she was a fast boat, and it was expected that she would
cover the distance inside of four days. Much, of course, would depend
upon the weather encountered, for she was heavily loaded with both
passengers and freight. The freight had given even the owners concern,
for much of it was piled high on the outer decks.
On the second day out, and some time after Cape Blanco had been sighted
through the glass, the sky to the westward began to darken, and the
sailors announced an approaching storm. Soon the sun went under a heavy
bank of clouds and a stiff breeze sprung up which threw the long, heavy
swells of the ocean into millions of whitecaps, dancing and skipping on
every side as far as eye could reach.
"We are in for it now," was the announcement which went the rounds.
Presently it began to rain, and all endeavored to seek the shelter of
the cabin, which speedily became crowded to suffocation. The boys, their
uncle, and Captain Zoss were in the forward part of the boat, and they
saw the course changed, so that the _Golden Hope_ stood out straight to
meet the blow.
"We are going to have no fun of this," said Foster Portney, with a grave
shake of his head. "If I know anything about matters, that storm will be
an extra heavy one." And the events of the next hour proved that he was
right.