pioneer "Captain Cook." We found him unkempt and disheveled, Rip Van
Winkle-like, an object of commiseration, seated where he had been led.
The old fellow was a very sick man, with dropsy. Quite friendless, he
was unconscious of his surroundings, and looked up in a dazed, hopeless
way when spoken to. It seemed as if he might not return alive to that
"leetle wife in Kansas City." But later, he was taken out upon the deck
and seated in the sun, which did him good; for one day as I passed he
recognized me with a bright look, and inquired for my "brudder." It is
to be hoped that this old man, who patiently had endured so much, safely
reached his home with his gold, and received the welcome he deserved.
With bright, sunny weather after the storm, the _Tacoma_, not stopping
to coal at Dutch Harbor, steamed through Unimak Pass, and, now in the
Pacific, headed for Seattle over calm seas. Spending one beautiful day
skirting the shore of picturesque Vancouver Island, and passing through
the Strait of Juan de Fuca into that incomparable inland body of water,
Puget Sound, the _Tacoma_ reached Seattle on September 27, after a
voyage of ten days. Thence to San Francisco we journeyed by rail over
the majestic route which traverses the base of Mount Shasta.
Immediately upon arriving in San Francisco the papers were delivered to
the lawyers. The day following, the Circuit Court of Appeals, with great
astonishment, learned in what respect its mandates had been held; and,
shortly afterward, two deputy United States marshals were despatched to
Nome on one of the last vessels sailing for that port. Thwarting the
ring by reaching Nome before the ice had closed communication with the
outside world, they duly arrested the receiver and brought him before
the court in San Francisco whose orders he had deliberately defied.
Knight has since told me of his exciting night escape from Nome in a
launch, and of his being picked up at sea by a steamer, as prearranged;
for, fearful of the damaging evidence which he had accumulated, the ring
did its utmost to keep him from getting away, employing as a means to
this end the pretext "contempt of court"!
The trial of the contempt cases at San Francisco was long and
hard-fought by both sides. McKenzie has had an array of able champions
at every stage of the proceedings. Application to the United States
Supreme Court was made in his behalf to oust the Circuit Court of
Appeals of its jurisdiction to try these cases, but the application was
denied.
On the eleventh day of February, 1901, the Circuit Court of Appeals at
San Francisco filed its opinion and judgment in these contempt cases.
The long and able opinion delivered by Judge Ross covers the entire
history of the Wild Goose litigation, and incidentally refers to Mr.
McKenzie's relations with the Alaska Gold Mining Company. After
referring to and commenting upon the various proceedings, which are
summarized as "this shocking record," and disposing of the technical
points raised by the receiver's counsel, the Court say:
"The circumstances attending the appointment of the receiver in these
cases, however, and his conduct after as well as before the appointment,
as shown by the record and evidence, so far from impressing us with the
sincerity of the pretension that his refusal to obey the writs issued
out of this court was based upon the advice of his counsel that they
were void, satisfy us that it was intentional and deliberate, and in
furtherance of the high-handed and grossly illegal proceedings
initiated almost as soon as Judge Noyes and McKenzie had set foot on
Alaskan territory at Nome, and which may be safely said to have no
parallel in the jurisprudence of this country. And it speaks well for
the good, sober sense of the people gathered on that remote and barren
shore that they depended solely upon the courts for the correction of
the wrongs thus perpetrated among and against them, which always may be
depended upon to right, sooner or later, wrongs properly brought before
them." It is then adjudged that the receiver did commit contempts of
court, and that for the said contempts he be imprisoned in the county
jail of the county of Alameda, California, for the period of one year.
In conclusion, "the marshal will execute this judgment forthwith."
In view of this deliberate adjudication and severe arraignment by a
federal court of rank next to the highest tribunal of the United States,
and considering also the earnest efforts made at Washington and the
demands of the Pacific coast newspapers for the removal of the weak and
unscrupulous judge who had manifestly served as the tool of Alexander
McKenzie, his recently dethroned receiver, it was natural to suppose
that effective measures would at once be taken to rectify so great an
error as his appointment had proved to be. But, strange to say, this
reasonable expectation was not verified.
In the United States Senate, on the 26th of February, 1901, an attempt
was made to exonerate Messrs. McKenzie and Noyes. Senator Hansbrough of
North Dakota characterized the former as "in every respect an honorable
and responsible man," and read a letter which he had received from Judge
Noyes, in which the latter elaborately declaims how honest and upright
he is and always has been. Senator Pettigrew of South Dakota championed
McKenzie as a man of "character," and eulogized Noyes as "the peer of
any man who sits upon the bench in any State or Territory in the Union."
But Senator Stewart gave the whole affair a very thorough airing, and
caused to be printed in the "Congressional Record" the complete history
of the receivership proceedings above set forth, together with the
opinion and judgment of the Circuit Court of Appeals.
One of the last official acts of Attorney-General Griggs was the
preparation and transmission of charges against Judge Noyes, which
reached their destination in June, 1901; and as only a reply with
explanations was required, Noyes had a lease of official life during the
mining season of 1901. His answer to the charges preferred against him
was in the nature of a general denial, and a justification of his
conduct in every respect.
Despite, however, its various handicaps, the Nome country, it is
estimated, yielded in the year 1900 between five and six million dollars
in gold--almost as much as was paid to Russia for Alaska in 1867.
Thus far no well-defined quartz ledges have been discovered, but it is
not impossible that such may yet be found. Once on a steady basis, it
will from year to year, like the Klondike, increase its output until,
finally deprived of its only attraction and drained of its sole asset,
it shall again assume the dreary, uninhabited state in which it was
discovered.
Lieutenant Jarvis estimates that, in addition to the two thousand who
wintered there, eighteen thousand people were at Nome in the summer of
1900. Probably six thousand remained in the country throughout the
following winter, well provided for, as the government at the close of
the mining season transported the remaining needy and destitute.
Before communication with the outside world closed with the freezing of
the sea, about the 1st of November, C---- got out a letter which
informed me of his safe arrival at Council and his settling down in the
new quarters. It seems that not enough was found of the _Mush-on_ at
Chenik to make a toothpick. At a meeting of the "city fathers" at
Council the nomination for president of the Town-site Organization had
been extended to C----, which he said he had at first declined with
becoming modesty; but, finally, under pressure, and as a "public duty,"
he had graciously yielded and been duly elected. This news of my
partner's accession to so high a dignity rather led me to indulge an
expectation that, upon my return, I might be received with civic
honors.
PART II
1901
VI
THE DANGERS OF BERING SEA--A DISMAL OUTLOOK
The spring of 1901, unlike its immediate predecessor, did not bring
forth general or even newspaper excitement about Nome and northwest
Alaska, and the average observer of events, even in cities so closely in
touch as San Francisco and Seattle, might have been warranted in
concluding that the remarkable stories of gold in this latest El Dorado
were but fairy tales, and that another bubble had burst. But this was
very far from the truth. On the contrary, nearly as many vessels as the
year before, and better ones, were scheduled to sail for Nome; more
freight and horses were being shipped thither; and in the northward
movement there was a confident and legitimate air which signified
genuine belief in the country and ample capital to back it up.
The dreadful and discouraging reports spread during the preceding season
by quickly-returned, faint-hearted fortune-hunters had served a useful
purpose in very largely eliminating the riffraff and rabble which had,
in great measure, contributed to make Nome in 1900 unsavory and unsafe.
This year, as last, accommodations on the first sailings were purchased
at a premium, or could not be had at all. Nearly every passenger had
some tangible proposition in view, and, whether or not it proved
successful, put himself on record as a firm believer in the wonderful
hidden wealth of the country whither he was bound.
Sailing from San Francisco June 1, and stopping two days _en route_ at
Seattle, the _St. Paul_, after an uneventful and satisfactory voyage, on
the 16th of the month halted on her long way at Unalaska. I was
fortunate in sharing my narrow cabin accommodations with two good
men--W----, a man of the world, with mining interests in Alaska and
possessed of a lively sense of humor; the other, a very gentlemanly and
well-educated "knight of the green table," who begged pardon whenever he
had occasion to enter our common quarters. When I first visited the
state-room, to appropriate, if possible, the best places for my
belongings, a bouquet of fragrant sweet-peas thriving in the basin
interrogated me as to whether I had not made a mistake. Later, W----
explained that one of his friends, in the bibulous enthusiasm of
farewell amenities, on the way to the ship had purchased this beautiful
but somewhat embarrassingly inappropriate gift, and had thrust it upon
him. It soon adorned the saloon of the ship.
Of course, the _St. Paul_ carried an assortment of curious and
remarkable people--not so diversified a lot as inflicted the _Lane_ a
year ago; there was a much higher average of respectability. First of
all, it was pleasant to know that members of the "nobility" were with
us--it gave us a "tone," so to speak. They included a couple of very
pronounced Englishmen, a Russian count, and a trio of Frenchmen, one of
whom, an inoffensive little fellow, monocled and dressed to kill, was
also a real live count. The combination lived in style and moderate
hilarity in the owner's room, and were scheduled to investigate their
large mining interests in Alaska. Then there was a great, strapping hulk
of a man, who wore a beard, long black hair which curled down over his
coat collar, and a benign smile; and who had a cheery word for every
one--of the type Munyon. He was reported to be the president of a mining
company also having "large interests in Alaska," but he was dubbed the
"Divine Healer," and was cursed out generally. As a rule, it is a safe
precaution to steer clear of individuals who talk about their "large
mining interests in Alaska" or who are "representing capital in the
East." A tall, spare man, who bore the marks of having been shot through
the cheek, was pointed out to me as one of the veterans of Alaska, and
the one who, in the palmy days of the Nome beach, with a simple
hand-"rocker" and two assistants, in twelve hours' work had made the
record, by taking from the ruby sands one hundred and twenty-seven
ounces of gold, or something over a thousand dollars' worth. This I
verified later. We had with us also "Blanche Lamonte," the actress, of
Klondike fame, and several other "fairies" and minor stars who had
decided to add luster to histrionic art at Nome. It was a series of
"concerts" which brought out, as it were, the _pieces de resistance_.
These delightful affairs--"to cheer us on our long voyage"--were due
mainly to the efforts of a tall, angular woman with short gray hair,
who hailed from New York, with a down-East twang, and who, representing
some newspaper, wanted a little spice for her article. She possessed, it
was said, some musical attainments, and had engineered a successful
entertainment the year before in so critical a metropolis as Nome. At
any rate, she was the self-appointed "ship's favorite," and she _could_
manage to get a good deal of animation from a little box-organ. Though
not a nightingale, this life of the ship would sing a few songs of her
"own composition," and playfully insist that we "all join in the
chorus"; and, on one occasion, apropos of nothing whatever, she
announced that she was a mining broker and would be happy to market
properties for the "boys."
I remember also two big, husky, good-looking miners, who used to
interrogate me about getting up the streams to and above Council City.
They had a grievance against their "disagreeable" cabin-mate. This was a
Swedish missionary; and the complaint was made not because he was so
"damned religious," but because he was unsociable--wouldn't enter into
the spirit of things. For instance, when asked whether he was going to
Nome, his only reply was that his ticket didn't read that way. Perhaps
the missionary was canny in not allowing his room-mates too much leeway.
And there were others.
As we approached the now familiar bold and bleak topography of Unalaska,
it was apparent that the rumors of late ice in Bering Sea were well
founded. The hills and slopes bore a good deal more snow than a year
ago, and the atmosphere was more chill. There remained in the harbor but
few vessels. The majority of the fleet had already forged into Bering
Sea; but the _Jeannie_, a steam-whaler, specially fitted to "buck" the
ice, was the only vessel known to have discharged its passengers and
freight at Nome. This had been accomplished on the ice, during the
latter part of May, two miles from the beach, the freight at great
expense having been transferred ashore by dog-teams. We remained at
Unalaska over Sunday, and that evening a goodly number of the ship's
company attended song services at the Jesse Lee Home. This institution
cares for and tries to make good men and women of the outcast and
half-breed children who are gathered in from various Aleutian Islands.
It is a good cause, well conducted. The poor little isolated waifs
closed the exercises by singing "God be with You till We Meet Again,"
and it was a seriously appreciative crowd who listened and mentally
echoed, "Amen."
Luck plays a very important part in getting through the ice-fields. The
wind may take a sudden turn and so shift the ice as to leave an ample
channel through which the ship, fog permitting, may safely pass on to
its destination. But the _St. Paul_, setting out June 17 on the
northward stretch, did not meet with these favorable conditions. She was
soon literally "up against" the ice--not great towering bergs, but
smaller ones fantastically shaped like floating islands, or swans, or
whipped cream, for instance; very pretty to look at, but frequently
only the frostings of large, slushy, and dangerous cakes that lurked
beneath. Strange birds, somewhat smaller than penguins, sitting up
stiffly and absurdly on their tails, marshaled themselves in military
rows upon the ice, and occasionally a seal poked up its snaky and
inquiring head from beneath the still waters. The sea was mirror-like.
Sometimes, intensified by the fog and mist which hung about, the sun
shone down hot, as the vessel crept slowly through the haze and maze of
her uncanny surroundings. It was a strange, weird scene, recalling the
"Rime of the Ancient Mariner," about the albatross, the fog, the mist,
and the red-hot sun. Several times we lay to for half a day. There was
now no night. On one occasion, when the ship slowly pushed into a cake
of melting ice, the contact causing the red paint to gush to the
surface, a bright Irishman in the steerage temporarily relieved the
monotony by shouting out, "She bleeds at the nose."
And it was becoming very monotonous. It was then June 22, and with fair
conditions we should have been at Nome two days earlier. Passengers
became uneasy or disgusted, and many expressed themselves to the effect
that our excellent captain didn't know his business,--that we were lost,
and would likely have to remain thus a month more,--and they were for
"butting right through" the ice anyhow. Some day there may be a great
disaster in Bering Sea when an iron ship tries to force its way through
the ice. There was a close call this season. Later in the day, however,
icy and uninviting Nunivak Island appeared close at hand, some four
hundred miles south of Nome, and we then knew where we were. Passing at
half speed along it, at what seemed a safe distance, suddenly there was
a bump, followed almost immediately by a reversal of the engines, a
churning of mud and eighteen feet of water, and frantic efforts to get
off a treacherous mud-flat. This seemed the last straw, but the quick
action of our engineer saved the day and a very dismal prospect. It was
near this same island that the _Lane_, our transport of last year,
struck a reef on her way "down below" (Nome lingo for Washington,
Oregon, or California) a month later. Her captain, imagining himself
well out at sea, was booming along in the fog at full speed and with
sails up, when the vessel struck with a mighty jar and became a total
loss. The few passengers and the crew were all saved, as they needed
only to step off upon the shore.
The _St. Paul_ anchored that night in deeper water and a dense fog.
During the night fog-horns were heard in the distance, and a series of
exchanges followed in order that the approaching vessel might locate us.
In the morning the _Senator_, a sister ship, loomed up out of the fog,
not a hundred yards distant. The captains held a shouting conversation,
and, instead of being a companion in misery, we learned that the
_Senator_ had already discharged passengers and freight at Nome, and was
now on her way _back_ for another load! So, indeed, had the entire
fleet, with a few exceptions.
Now knowing the course, and the wind having shifted the ice, we pushed
ahead through the fog; and in the clear light of the afternoon of June
24 the unforgettable scenery of Nome presented itself, whiter on the
back-lying hills and less inviting than a year ago. Mining men eyed it
seriously; for it looked as if the terrible winter were lingering in the
lap of spring, which meant that the (at best) scant four months' working
season might be materially curtailed. And this seemed the more probable
when scores of dories came out and clustered about the ship, their idle
owners offering for a consideration to carry passengers ashore. It was
hard to realize that one was back again at this jumping-off place of the
world, having meantime covered so great a distance and lived in scenes
so totally dissimilar. But it was not the same proposition to tackle as
the preceding year--there never before was, and probably never will be
again, a thing like that; I had now only to follow a fixed program until
some happening or condition should modify or wholly alter it.
Orders were given for every one to get ashore right away that evening;
and the lighters, towed by a small tug, were soon carrying the
passengers thither, bag and baggage, and somewhat disgruntled. A few of
us, who believed that, in the last analysis, those orders were a bluff
to get rid of people, remained that night unmolested in our bunks, to
visit the "golden sands" in ample time of morning. The waiters and
stewards, too, were quitting the ship for good or evil; for these shifty
boys--many of them pleasant harum-scarum Englishmen, younger sons of
good families--had no idea of being satisfied with thirty dollars a
month the remainder of their days. I wish I could have taken down in
shorthand the experiences of "Perry,"--the way he told them,--who,
encouraged, would sit in our state-room, when he could, and, to our
great amusement, and most entertainingly, tell his history from the time
when he played the races a few years ago, in "dear old England," to
date. Before departing from San Francisco he had been dining with
friends in high-life fashion at the Palace, the swell hotel of the city.
There wasn't a more efficient steward on the ship, and he hustled for us
in good style. How these "Atlantic Ocean boys" sneer at the less
advanced conveniences of the Pacific!
Well, then, in the morning, seated on a load of freight and baggage,
the rest of the passengers, in a misty rain, traversed the intervening
two miles of then smooth water, and deposited themselves and their
hand-baggage upon the famous, and infamous, shores of Nome. The "golden
sands" at that time were partly covered by dead dogs and refuse, but
everything else seemed systematic and orderly; there were, happily, no
longer evidences of great waste and confusion such as prevailed the year
before. That the lessons of last September's storms, however, had been
unheeded was evidenced by the shacks and frame buildings rebuilt down
upon the beach itself, and there awaiting a like fate from another ugly
assault of the Bering Sea. One of the signs of the times which stood
forth familiarly, and recalled scenes of the past, was that of the "Gold
Belt Dance Hall."
While A---- guarded the baggage, W---- and I went in search of a
temporary abiding-place, and decided in favor of an unfurnished room at
the Gold Hill Hotel, situated in a less crowded part of the town. Into
this we soon placed our folding cots, blankets, and personal effects;
and as the bar immediately underneath us was not then doing a
land-office business, we considered ourselves lucky to be so well
settled thus soon. The sea, fortunately, was sufficiently calm to permit
discharging the freight, which was well cared for and put under cover by
the reliable Alaska Commercial Company, to which we had intrusted it and
ourselves.
The next object of concern, after having delivered certain papers and
seen several of the legal lights, was to determine whether one could
then proceed on the way to Council City, and, if so, how; but the
inevitable conclusion was soon forced upon me that I should have to
remain as cheerfully as possible in Nome until Golovin Bay should be
clear of ice. Several attempts had already been made to effect an
entrance there, but without success. Assuredly it was a late season. It
was still impossible for vessels to reach St. Michaels or Teller, the
latter being the starting-point for the new Bluestone and Kougarok
districts; and the Nome dailies were issuing sensational extras with
large head-lines telling that "Fifteen Hundred People" were "Starving at
the Mouth of the Yukon"--at St. Michaels, one hundred and fifty miles
away. Many of the neighboring creeks were yet filled with ice and snow,
so as to allow only preliminary operations for mining, or none at all.
The prospect was made more dismal by the stormy and cold rainy weather
which then prevailed. The gale wrecked several small craft and caused
the remaining steamers to put out to sea, and the thermometer ranged at
about 40 deg. Fortunate indeed it was that these conditions did not exist
the year before, when so many thousands of helpless, unprepared people
were deposited upon those alluring shores. Now, however, the numerous
prophets of evil preached the doctrine that last summer had been an
exception, and that this sort of thing would continue throughout the
open months, which, fortunately, it did not do.
At the new and well-appointed post-office I was much impressed and
pleased to find a type-written letter from my partner, dated at Council
City the middle of June, which told of his good health and settlement in
our new quarters. This letter had been brought overland before the
melting snow and ice made it unsafe or impossible to cross the
intervening streams. Previous to this, my last letter from him, received
at San Francisco just before sailing, bore date of February 13.