THE MATE’S STORY
It is doubtful if there was a happier party in the Yukon Valley, or
even in all Alaska, than that which unbidden, though none the less
certain of their welcome, took possession of the mission-house at old
Fort Adams that roaring December night. Certainly no one could be
happier than was Jalap Coombs at this meeting with the boys in whose
fortunes his had become so strangely involved. At the time of their
opportune appearance he was in one of the most unhappy and perplexing
predicaments of his whole checkered career; but now his troubles were
blown away like a morning mist, and already wellnigh forgotten.
When the schooner _Philomel_, finally released from the bank on
which she had grounded, reached St. Michaels, Mr. Ryder was greatly
distressed by the accounts given him of the expedition on which Phil
and Serge had embarked. Knowing nothing of the conditions under which
they had been so glad to accept the friendly offer of a roundabout
passage to Sitka, and receiving a cruelly false impression of Gerald
Hamer’s character as well as of his objects in ascending the Yukon, he
concluded that the boys had been trapped into a reckless venture, which
could only lead them to disaster and suffering. In fancy he saw them
imprisoned by an arctic winter on a wretchedly constructed and poorly
equipped boat, as the _Chimo_ was described to him, or in some squalid
Indian village, confronted by freezing, starvation, and disease,
remote from human aid and without the means of escape.
Bitterly did he deplore the accident that prevented him from organizing
a relief party and going in person to their rescue. When, on the
day after his own arrival, the revenue-cutter _Bear_ touched at St.
Michaels on her way south and her commander offered him a passage to
San Francisco, where he could receive the surgical attendance he so
greatly needed, he at first refused, declaring that nothing would
induce him to leave the country without his boy Phil.
Then it was that Jalap Coombs offered to remain in his place, make
an overland trip to the Yukon as soon as winter travel should be
practicable, find the boys, and bring them back to St. Michaels, there
to await Mr. Ryder’s return in the spring.
“But you know nothing of the country nor of sledge travel,” objected
the latter. “You will not even know on what portion of the river to
look for the boys. And, besides, what shall we do with the _Philomel_,
which has already cost me more than I can well afford?”
“It is true, sir, as you say, that I am ignorant of the
cruising-ground,” replied Jalap Coombs, “but I’d be a poor sailor-man
ef with chart and compass I couldn’t make out to lay a course. Also,
I’ve heerd of a party as expects to start from here on a visit to
all the up-river trading-stations as soon as the season for sledge
navigation opens, and I reckon there wouldn’t be no difficulty about me
shipping with them as extry hand.
“As for driving dogs, my old friend Kite Roberson useter say that a man
can l’arn any trade ef he has to. At the same time I’m considerable
handy with both belaying-pins and rope-ends, which, I take it, would be
jest as improving to the usefulness of dogs as to a crew of swabs. When
it comes to getting the bearings of the port in which the lads are
laid by for the winter, that would seem to be a case of the plainest
kind of sailing. They’re bound to be friz in afore long, even ef their
old kettle doesn’t break down and leave ’em stranded, which it’s likely
it will. Waal, then, I strikes across country from here to the river,
and says to the natyves what lives on its banks: ‘Has sich and sich a
steamer gone up stream?’ says I; which ef they answers _si_, or _oui_,
or _ja_, or whatever stands for yes in their lingo, I likewise goes on
up. Ef they shakes their heads, which is ‘No’ the world over, then I
naturally goes down, and keeps on down till I meets her.”
In spite of his present pain and mental distress Mr. Ryder could not
help smiling at the readiness with which the simple-minded sailor
thus disposed of difficulties that to most people would appear
insurmountable. “But what shall we do with the _Philomel_?” he asked,
after a few moments’ consideration.
“Send her back to Oonalaska in charge of the wracked whaling cap’n what
has just come in on the _Bear_. He’ll take her and be glad of the job,
for I’ve already sounded him.”
The more Mr. Ryder thought over the plan thus proposed by the man who
had already proved himself so capable, so loyal, and so stanch a friend
of the lost boys, the more favorably he was inclined towards it, and at
length he decided to accept the mate’s proffered services. So with many
parting injunctions, and leaving with him a sum of money sufficient to
defray his share of expenses in the proposed expedition, Phil’s father
sailed away on the _Bear_ in search of the medical aid that should
enable him to return a few months later, and undertake, in company
with his boy, a long-cherished scheme of exploration among the fabled
gold-fields of the interior.
Some six weeks later Jalap Coombs also set forth from St. Michaels in
company with two white men, both of whom expressed an ardent admiration
for Phil Ryder, and great joy at the prospect of assisting in his
rescue from the wiles of the unprincipled trader who had lured him
away. Under their direction the confiding sailor invested the entire
sum left him by Mr. Ryder in dogs, sledges, and provisions. He was
amazed at the exorbitant prices charged him for these things, and was
still more so to discover, when a few days out from the fort, that
with all his outlay he was credited with but one team and a single
sledge-load of provisions, which he soon found himself exchanging for
fish with which to feed his dogs.
Furthermore, as he had been unable to master the art of dog-driving,
his obliging friends had engaged for him an Indian, who began to demand
his wages at the end of the first week, refused to work unless he was
paid in advance, and persisted in his demands with such insolence that
the mate finally felt himself obliged to administer what he called a
dose of belaying-pins and rope-ends. The effect of this was a future
obedience to orders, accompanied by a sullen hatred, which Jalap’s
white companions seemed to take a malicious delight in encouraging.
This sledge party went north along the coast from St. Michaels to the
mouth of the Unalaklik River, and followed up that stream for several
days. Then, crossing a divide, they struck the Yukon at a point near
Nulato. Here they were told that a steamer, supposed to be the _Chimo_,
had passed on her way up the river several days before the close of
navigation.
By this time the relations between poor Jalap and his companions had
become so very unpleasant that he had hoped for an excuse to leave
them, and go down the river from Nulato. As it was, he now felt
obliged to continue in their company until the _Chimo_ should be
overtaken.
At old Fort Adams, after conferring with the natives, his
fellow-travellers informed him that the steamer was frozen in about
one day’s march above that place, and with a lighter heart than he had
known since beginning the weary journey, he again set forth with them,
filled with eager anticipations. When just at dusk of that same day
they discovered a steamer snugly moored to the bank, he read her name
with a sinking heart, for, instead of _Chimo_, it was _St. Michaels_,
which he knew to be the name of a boat belonging to a Catholic mission
on the lower river. Moreover, she was boarded up and deserted.
As Jalap’s companions noted his expression of dismay, they uttered
shouts of mocking laughter, and asked what else he had expected when
the Fort Adams Indians had mentioned that very name so plainly that a
deaf man ought to have understood it.
In camp that night the sailor announced his intention of starting
back down the river at daybreak, at which the others only exchanged
significant glances, but said nothing. In the morning, after the
sledges were loaded and the dogs harnessed, it was discovered that the
driver of his sledge was missing. Telling him that he was thus rightly
served for chastising the poor man, the others cracked their whips
and started off up the river, leaving poor Jalap standing on its bank
helpless and alone. A few moments later, at the sound of a familiar
whistle from the direction they had taken, his dogs started after their
vanished companions, carrying with them his entire outfit.
[Illustration: A FEW MOMENTS LATER HIS DOGS STARTED AFTER THEIR
VANISHED COMPANIONS]
With feet so badly used up from weeks of unaccustomed snow-shoeing that
every step was torture, the deserted man at once realized the folly of
pursuit, and with a heavy heart began to retrace his slow way to
old Fort Adams. Reaching the mission completely exhausted, and unable
to proceed farther, he had taken possession of the missionary’s house.
Here, suffering, penniless, friendless, and almost hopeless, he was
trying to form some plan for the future, when the door opened, and, as
he afterwards quaintly said, “Ef the good little cherub what sets up
aloft watching over poor Jack at sea had flowed in at that minute, I
couldn’t been better pleased than I were to sight the blessed phiz of
that precious young rascal, Phil Ryder.”
Such was the tale related by Jalap Coombs to Phil and Serge after the
three had finished a dinner that included every luxury in the outfit
of our young travellers, and between long, grateful pulls at “old
comfort,” his pipe, which they had also provided with tobacco.
When the story was ended, Phil indignantly demanded to know the names
of the two white men who claimed acquaintance with him and at the same
time dared treat his old friend so shamefully.
“Simon Goldollar were the name of one.”
“I might have known it――the sneak!” broke in Phil.
“And the other are called Strengel.”
“The very scoundrel that I set ashore from the _Chimo_ for trying to
blow her up!” cried Phil. “You remember, Serge?”
“I should rather say I did!” replied the young Russo-American, his
honest face flushing with anger.
“But what are they going up the river for, Mr. Coombs?”
“To spile Cap’n Hamer’s chance of doing any trading at Forty Mile, as
fur as I could make out,” replied the mate.
“Oh, the villains!” exclaimed Phil. “And they have got two days’ start
of us, too, while you are almost unfit for travel. Hold on, though!
I have it! We can do the trick yet, and give them a lesson in minding
their own business. Hurrah for our side, after all! Serge, hurrah!
quick, before I fling something at you.”