We have published a number of stories of adventure in the icy North,
but none giving a more realistic impression of the hardships and
dangers which lie in wait for the traveller and prospector in these
inhospitable regions than this. Mr. Priestley and his partner set
out with dog-teams for a new goldfield, but the partner lost heart
and turned back, leaving him to struggle on alone. Death dogged his
footsteps through the great white wilderness, and but for the
intelligence of his leading dog he would undoubtedly have lost his
life.
It was my fortune, or misfortune, to be present in San Francisco at the
time of the earthquake and fire of April 18th, 1906. Although I gained a
good deal of valuable experience as my share of the catastrophe, I lost
all my belongings to offset the bargain.
I stayed in San Francisco until June 1st, and then resolved to try my luck
in another country, where earthquakes and such petty worries are unknown.
Fate directed my roving footsteps to Alaska, glowingly described by the
transportation companies as “The Golden North--the land of fur, fish, and
gold.” I thanked the companies for their information, but did not avail
myself of their kind offer to sell me a ticket. Both Nature and Fate
seemed to have destined me for a rover, and one of the main tenets of a
roving life--to say nothing of my financial status--demanded and ordained
that I must travel at the least possible expense. I accordingly made
arrangements, and worked my passage from San Francisco to St. Michael’s,
_viâ_ Nome, on the ss. _Buckman_. St. Michael’s is a port on the Bering
Sea, and is the principal shipping port for the Yukon River and Central
Alaska.
[Illustration: THE AUTHOR, MR. W. E. PRIESTLY, IN HIS ALASKAN COSTUME.
_From a Photograph._]
From St. Michael’s I found a boat was leaving for the Tanana district, and
again luck favoured me, for I got the chance to work my way up to that
part of the country. We traversed the Yukon River as far as Fort Gibbon,
and from there proceeded up the Tanana River to the mining camp of
Fairbanks, which is situated about four hundred miles up-stream from Fort
Gibbon.
I arrived in Fairbanks on July 1st, having travelled nearly four thousand
miles since leaving San Francisco, and found myself about twenty-five
dollars better off than when I started. I stayed in the Fairbanks district
until the end of November. The physical features of this country are best
described as “eight months iceberg and four months swamp.”
Towards the end of November rumour began to circulate reports that a new
goldfield of incredible richness had been discovered. Tales of “eight
dollars to the shovelful” were passed through the camp, and all kinds of
stories, real and imaginary, were discussed with feverish excitement.
The new diggings were known as the Chandelar, and were situated at the
head-waters of the Chandelar River, a tributary of the Yukon, having its
source in the Arctic slope and entering the Yukon River about twenty miles
below Fort Yukon.
I was anxious to try my luck in the newly-discovered country, but this was
a matter that could not be lightly considered. The diggings were about
four hundred miles due north of Fairbanks, and a good deal of preparation
was necessary before a trip of this kind could be undertaken. I was a
new-comer in the country (locally termed a “chechaco”); I was unused to
the ways of the trail; there was no food in the new district, except, of
course, wild game; and, finally, the temperature at that time was about
forty degrees below zero, with every possibility that it would drop to
sixty or seventy below zero by the end of December.
I made up my mind that the first thing I must do would be to get a
travelling partner who could be depended on. I finally made arrangements
with an old-timer in the country, named Bartlett, who was also going up to
the Chandelar. He had been in the Klondike rush of ’98, and as he sat by a
hot stove and related his marvellous exploits on the trail, his thrilling
adventures and hair-breadth escapes, in a state of “chechaco” simplicity
that was almost pitiable I congratulated myself on my choice of a partner.
Finding that I had not enough money to purchase everything necessary, I
spoke to two friends of mine, and they agreed to put seventy-five dollars
each into the trip; in return, they were to have a one-third interest
between them of any mining property that I located in the Chandelar. This
is a common occurrence in Alaska, and is generally known as a “grubstake
proposition.”
[Illustration: A FACSIMILE OF THE AUTHOR’S POWER OF ATTORNEY, GIVING HIM
AUTHORITY TO STAKE GROUND ON BEHALF OF HIS PARTNERS.
KNOW ALL MEN BY THESE PRESENTS: That We, R.L. MENIFEE, and G.L. BLACKWELL,
of Fairbanks, Alaska, have made constituted and appointed, any by these
presents do hereby make, contribute and appoint, F. Priestley, of the
same place, our true and lawful attorney for us and in our name, place
and stead, and for our use and benefit, to locate stake and record for
us, places mining property in the CHANDELAR DISTRICT, in the Region of
Alaska, North of the Yukon River: [three lines erased here]
hereby giving and granting onto W. PRIESTLEY as said attorney full power
and authority to do and perform all and every act and thing whatsoever
requisite and necessary to be done in and about the premises, as fully
to all intents and purposes as we might or could do if personally
present, hereby ratifying and confirming all that our said Attorney,
W. PRIESTLEY, shall lawfully do or cause to be done by virtue of these
presents.
In WITNESS WHEREOF, we have hereupon set our hands and seals this 3rd
day of December, A.D. 1905.