ALIVE OR DEAD?
It seemed to Tom that he had hardly been asleep five minutes, when he
felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Wake up, my boy! Baranov is on the wharf, waiting for you."
With only half his wits about him, and a vague remembrance of his
experience the previous year, Tom sprang up hastily, crying out, "Is
there a fire?" Then he saw his father's expression, amused, but a
little anxious, and remembered the plan for the day.
"What are you up for, father?" he asked, as he scrambled into his thick
traveling suit. "You ought to be sound asleep in your berth."
Mr. Percival smiled, in reply. "I wanted to see you start," he said
simply. Ah, these patient, loving, anxious fathers and mothers who get
up early to see their children start, and sit up late to welcome them
home! How little we think of it when we are boys--how the recollection
of it all, and of our own heedlessness comes to us, in after years!
Fred was already up, as he shared Tom's stateroom on the steamer. In a
few minutes more they were out in the sweet morning air, and, stepping
softly and speaking in low tones, not to disturb the sleepers, they
passed through the gangway and down to the wharf, accompanied by Mr.
Percival.
The sun was just rising, and the whole sky was golden with its coming,
over the dark eastern hills. It would be an hour or more before his
first rays would rest on the house-tops of Juneau.
There was the old hunter, leaning against one of the mooring-posts, and
looking off over the quiet Sound, to the dim blue mountains beyond. At
his feet lay a large pack, two tin dippers and an ax. In the hollow of
his left arm he held two guns.
As the travelers left the steamer, he turned toward them with an alert
air that belied his previous slouching attitude and straggling,
iron-gray hair. The first greetings over, he proceeded at once to
divide the luggage.
"I'll take the pack," said he, "and my ax. You two boys take the
guns--we sha'n't need to load 'em much before noon. Tie a tin dipper
around your waist, each of ye. Here's some twine."
"Have you got provisions?" asked Mr. Percival.
"Plenty," replied Solomon. "All ready, boys?"
"Good-by! good-by!" they said, still speaking quietly. While Fred,
seeing a crimson handkerchief--which looked remarkably like one worn by
Kittie the day before--waving from one of the little stateroom windows,
waved his in return.
"Good-by, Fred. My dear boy," turning to Tom, "take care of yourself.
Remember, if you are delayed, I shall not leave Juneau without you.
Allow plenty of time for the return trip. Be very careful of the guns.
Good-by!"
The anxious father pressed both the boys' hands. They turned away, and
passing around the buildings at the head of the wharf, were soon out of
sight.
Once more he saw them, as they climbed the first low hill, back of the
town. They waved their hats to him, then disappeared in the edge of the
forest.
All the party were rather grave at the breakfast table, that morning.
Mrs. Percival had been greatly disinclined to consent to the hunt, but
she was a strong woman, and was afraid of trusting her feelings in a
matter where she admitted her husband was the best judge.
In the forenoon Randolph accompanied his uncle to the Silver Bow Basin,
and inspected for himself the marvelous valley whose sands are so
filled with precious metal that miners for years have worked in it here
and there, successfully washing out gold with the rudest contrivances.
The superintendent in charge of the principal works showed them the
tunnel, and the process of sluicing out the sand by a powerful stream
of water, or "hydraulicking," as he called it. The stream plunged into
the sand in a deep pit, and then rushed off rapidly through a long
tunnel which had been dug and blasted through the rocky heart of the
mountain toward the sea.
"What takes the gold out?" asked Randolph.
"Why, we place those cross pieces, or riffles, at short distances
all the way down, in the sluice-way which runs the whole length of
the tunnel. On the upper side of the riffles is placed a quantity of
quicksilver for which the gold has such an affinity (it sinks to the
bottom of the stream), that it combines with it. Every week or so we
have a 'clean up,' when a good many thousand dollars' worth of gold is
taken out and shipped South."
"When do you begin to work?" asked Mr. Percival.
"Well, we calculate to commence operations about the first of May. It's
according to the season. Of course we can't get our power until the
snow melts on the mountains, and we get a good head of water."
After a thorough examination of these mines, they returned to the
village, and in the afternoon took the ferry boat to Douglas Island,
where they once more inspected the great treadwell mine which sometimes
turns out a hundred thousand dollars' worth of gold in a single month.
[Illustration: ALASKAN BASKET WEAVERS AT HOME.]
The ore here is imbedded in quartz, which is crushed in an immense
stamp-mill where the noise of the crushers was so great that the
loudest shout could not be heard. Randolph and Mr. Percival could
only communicate with the guide and with each other by signs, as they
walked through the building.
While these two were off on their mining tour, Bessie managed, with the
help of a cane and Mr. Selborne's arm, to walk slowly along the main
street of Juneau. There were a number of fur stores, and others with
beautiful displays of Chilkat blankets and baskets, the latter in many
odd varieties of shape and color.
Native women sat in groups, with their wares spread out on the sidewalk
before them; baskets, carvings, silver bracelets, and a queer kind of
orange-colored fruit which the visitors found were the famous "salmon
berries" of Alaska.
Rossiter bought a silver spoon, finely carved, with some sort of a
bird's-head design.
"What kind of a bird is it?" asked the minister.
The Alaskan shook his head, to show he did not understand.
"What kind?" asked Rossiter again, very slowly, and a little more
loudly, as one is apt to speak, in trying to converse with a foreigner.
The native seemed now to gather the meaning of the question, but was
at a loss to express himself in reply.
Suddenly with a quick smile he flapped his arms like wings, and cried
"Caw! caw!"
"Ah," exclaimed Selborne, "it's a raven!" and the vendor nodded his
head violently, much gratified at the success of his pantomime.
Next morning the sole topic was, How soon will they return? Have they
found any game? Won't they be tired!
Captain Carroll pinned up a notice in the main saloon, stating that the
steamer would sail at three in the afternoon, the repairs having been
completed more quickly than he had expected.
Mr. Percival looked troubled at the change of plan, but there was no
help for it. Every hour of delay was an additional expense to the
company; and besides, certain perilous straits ahead had to be passed
at exactly such a tide, and the captain had made his calculations
accordingly.
Noon came, but with it no sign of the hunters.
One o'clock. All the Percival party, and indeed most of the steamer's
passengers who knew the situation and were acquainted with the boys,
gathered on deck, gazing anxiously toward the high slopes which rimmed
the town. Still no indication of the returning party.
Mr. Percival now packed his own valise, as well as those of his son
and Fred, and told his family he should remain in Juneau if the boys
did not return in time for the boat. The _Queen_ was to touch here,
contrary to its usual custom, to take a shipment of bullion on its way
back to the States. The party could manage quite well on board ship
during the intervening four or five days; and although Mrs. Percival's
heart was torn with anxiety, she could see no better plan.
At three o'clock, therefore, Mr. Percival stood on the wharf with
the three portmanteaus, and the _Queen_, giving a long blast of its
whistle, moved majestically northward.
The head of the family who had thus remained behind soon found
comfortable lodgings for himself near by, and then repaired directly to
the wharf, where he was sure the belated hunters would hasten at once,
on their return.
Supper-time came, and a poor meal he made of it, at his lodging-house.
Returning to the wharf he vainly paced the planks in the golden
twilight until nearly midnight, when he slowly retraced his steps to
his lodgings, full of forebodings and self-reproach for his weakness in
consenting to indulge his heedless boy in such a reckless undertaking.
In the morning he was astir at sunrise, but his repeated and anxious
inquiries failed to reveal any news of the absent ones.
Looking haggard and old, he set about raising a relief party, to start
up the mountain at once. Alive or dead, they must be found!