CHAPTER X.

UP THE LYNN CANAL.

Randy and Earl gazed about them in hopeless bewilderment. The outfits

belonging to themselves, their uncle, and to Captain Zoss were gone. Who

had taken them, and was there any chance of recovery?

"We should have looked after them," said Earl, bitterly. "It was

foolishness to leave the stuff, especially after Uncle Foster had warned

us."

"I wonder if any of those miners who lost their outfits from the steamer

are guilty," said Randy, as they started on another tour of the Juneau

wharf. "I remember one fellow with a red beard and a scar on his nose

who looked at the stuff rather closely when we came ashore."

"Let us start to make inquiries, Randy. We must get our outfits back. If

we don't, Uncle Foster will never forgive us."

"Yes, and we'll be in a pickle besides," groaned the younger brother.

"By the look of things in this settlement mining outfits are rather

scarce."

"Yes, I heard one man saying that about everything worth having had been

gobbled up several weeks ago and the storekeepers were awaiting new

consignments from San Francisco, Portland, and Seattle."

With anxious hearts they walked around the wharf and along a side road,

also piled high with miners' goods and steamer freight. Presently a man

joined them. It was Captain Zoss.

"Well, whar's our packs?" he questioned, and looked glum when told of

what had occurred. "By the boots, lads, we must find 'em--ain't no two

ways about that! Why, to go to the mines without tools would be wuss nor

a hen sittin' on a nest without eggs. Been all over the dock, yer say?"

He paused an instant. "I'll make a round o' the saloons. If the things

was stolen, like as not the thieves would want to git 'em out of sight

in quick order, eh?"

He was about to leave them, when they were hailed by a man standing near

the entrance to a new store that was going up on the opposite side of

the way. It was the doctor who had so kindly come to Fred Dobson's

assistance.

"What's up?" he called out. "Looking for your traps? They're all right.

I had them brought up here for safe keeping when you went off with the

sick lad. I knew they wouldn't be secure down on the wharf. There are

half a dozen quarrels on down there over lost and mixed-up baggage."

Randy and Earl felt much relieved, and so did the captain. They ran over

to the new store, and sure enough, everything was there in a heap,

alongside of the packs owned by the doctor. They thanked the medical man

for his kindness, and a short talk followed. The doctor's name was

Kenneth Barwaithe, and he was an Englishman who had practised for a year

in Victoria. He, too, was bound for the new gold fields, either for

mining purposes, or to set himself up in business.

"The hundreds of miners going up there will need doctoring," he

explained. "And I am all prepared to dose them with medicine, set a

broken leg, amputate an arm, or pull an aching tooth."

"Thar'll be work for you," said Captain Zoss, with a laugh. "But the

wust disease up thar will be one ye can't touch nohow."

"Indeed! And what is that?" questioned Kenneth Barwaithe, with interest.

"Starvation," was the solemn reply.

In order to relieve their uncle of further anxiety, Randy and Earl

returned to where they had left Mr. Portney. They found him in earnest

conversation with Fred Dobson. The face of the squire's son was very red

and his eyes were downcast.

"I'll write home at once," they heard Fred say, in a low voice. "I'm

glad Earl wrote from San Francisco. My folks will at least know I am

alive and well--that is, as well as a fellow can be who was half starved

to death," he added ruefully.

"And you ought to go home, lad--it's the proper place for you."

"Well, maybe I will--after I have earned enough around here to take me,

Mr. Portney."

Foster Portney's hand was in his pocket, and Earl and Randy saw him hand

Fred a ten-dollar bill. "Pay me back whenever you feel rich enough to do

so," he said, and the squire's son gave him a ready promise to that

effect.

Foster Portney and Captain Zoss had been fortunate enough to secure

passage up to Dyea, on a little steamboat, which was to leave early the

next day. The craft was a freight boat, but carried passengers whenever

she could get them. No time was lost in transferring their goods to this

craft, Fred Dobson helping them carry their loads. Doctor Barwaithe had

also secured passage in the craft, and soon became one of the party.

Later on, matters were talked over by him and the others, and it was

agreed that the five should stick together until the Klondike region was

reached. The forming of little parties of five or more was popular among

those who travelled by the overland route into Alaska. By such means

there was less danger of a man getting lost in the mountains, and the

preparation of meals along the way was easier, for each man of a party

took his turn at feeding the rest, so that only one set of packs had to

be unstrapped and packed again, instead of the lot. Besides this, the

building and sailing of a boat down the lakes and through the rapids by

one man was next to impossible.

It was very difficult to obtain accommodations at any of the so-styled

hotels in Juneau, so all hands encamped for the night on the deck of the

freighter, Fred Dobson managing to smuggle himself in with the regular

party. In the morning Fred approached the captain of the boat for a

situation, but was turned off in language far from fit to transcribe to

these pages.

"Got more on board than we want now, boy, so git ashore in a hurry, for

we're on the point of sailing," and with a wistful good-by to Randy,

Earl, and the others, the squire's son leaped to the dock. Five minutes

later the lines were cast off, and the wheezy, overloaded craft started

northward on the Lynn Canal.

The distance from Juneau to Dyea is a hundred and eighteen miles, past

Berner's Bay and Katsehan River into Chilkoot Inlet and finally up Dyea

Inlet. The run for the most part is past gigantic glaciers on one side

and mountains covered with snow and ice on the other.

"Gracious, this is a touch of winter and no mistake!" ejaculated Randy,

as the steamboat ploughed steadily on her way, and they stood by the

rail taking in the desolate sight. "See how those little icebergs

sparkle in the sunshine."

"Far off to the west of this canal is the great Muir Glacier," said

Foster Portney. "It is the largest glacier in the world. That island

which we just passed is Douglas, and there is situated the great

Treadwell Mine, one of the richest gold mines heretofore discovered in

Alaska."

"Have we got to climb mountains like that?" questioned Earl, as he

pointed to the snow-capped summits to the eastward.

"Have we got to climb 'em?" burst in Captain Zoss. "Why, them ain't an

ant hill to the ones we're to crawl over, lad. Just wait till we get up

into Dyea Inlet, and you'll catch sight o' mountains as will give you

the yellow shakes, as the boys call it. Now I don't want to discourage

ye," he went on, as he saw Earl take a deep breath. "I want to prepare

ye for the wust, that's all. That pass--the Chilkoot--is the wust part

o' the whole trip, being about three-quarters of a mile high and betwixt

mountains twice that size."

"Well, we can climb three-quarters of a mile, I guess, if the grade

isn't too steep," said Randy.

The captain turned away and smiled to himself. He was more than doubtful

if the boys would ever get safely over to Lake Linderman, the first of

the lakes on the other side of the mountain range.

It was well that they had dressed themselves warmly; for, on account of

the sun shining on the glaciers the air was filled with a mist which

chilled them to the bone. The channel was filled with loose pieces of

ice, and ever and anon the steamer would strike a miniature iceberg

with a crash which was clearly heard by all on board.

After a few hours of gazing at the monotonous presentation of glaciers

and snow-covered hills and mountains, the boys turned their attention to

those on board. It was a motley collection of people. Most of the men

were Americans, but there was also a fair sprinkling of Canadians,

Germans, and half a dozen Indians. The latter were of the Chilkoot

tribe, and interested Randy more than anything else. They were a

round-faced, stalwart set of fellows, and several of them had bands of

black painted across the upper parts of their faces.

"They paint the black around their eyes as a preventive of

snow-blindness," explained Foster Portney. "As soon as either of you

find your eyes hurting from the glare you had better put on a pair of

the smoked goggles."

Dinner on the steamer was served under the rather scanty shelter on the

upper deck. But fifteen could be accommodated at once, and as there were

over sixty people on board, it took some time to satisfy them all. The

fare was principally beef stew, bread, coffee, and rice pudding, but the

cold air gave every one a good appetite, and the boys did full justice

to all that was offered them.

At turning-in time there was more than one little row, for sleeping

accommodations were limited. Berths were at a premium, and had been

secured by the more fortunate ones when the steamer had landed at

Juneau. Foster Portney gathered his party around him in the shelter of

the wheelhouse, on deck, and here they slept huddled together like sheep

in a cattle car.

"Not like stopping at the Palace Hotel in San Francisco, is it?" said

his uncle to Randy. "But never mind; as soon as we leave Dyea we'll have

all the room we want, and more."

"Sleeping like this keeps a fellow warm," said Randy, who felt somehow

as if he was out for a lark. But by and by, when somebody passed over

him in the dark and slipped on his chest, he did not think it quite so

much fun.

However, the night passed quickly enough, and at daybreak all were

stirring, for they had reached Dyea Inlet, and a landing was expected

before noon. A stiff breeze was blowing, and the Inlet, a long, narrow

arm of Chilkoot Inlet and the canal, was filled with angry waves blowing

from off shore. Presently the first sight of Dyea was gained, and half

an hour later an anchor was dropped, and the voyage so far as the

steamer was concerned was over.

To Alaska for Gold; Or, The Fortune Hunters of the Yukon · 第 10 / 31 章