ALASKA, A TREASURE HOUSE OF GOLD, FURS, AND FISHES

In 1867, when the far-seeing Secretary Seward purchased

Alaska from the Russian government for $7,200,000, there was

an outcry of disapproval equal to that made when Louisiana

territory was purchased from France in 1803. Many of the

people called the region "Seward's Folly" and said it would

produce nothing but icebergs and polar bears, and General

Benjamin F. Butler, representative from Massachusetts, said

in the House: "If we are to pay this amount for Russia's

friendship during the war, then give her the $7,200,000 and

tell her to keep Alaska." Representative Washburn, of

Wisconsin, exclaimed: "I defy any man on the face of the

earth to produce any evidence that an ounce of gold has ever

been found in Alaska."

To-day Alaska is yielding in gold $10,000,000 per year; its

fisheries are among the richest in the world, including more

than half the salmon yield of the United States; its forests

are of enormous value; its fur-seal harvest is without a

rival; its territory is traversed by one of the greatest

rivers of the world, two thousand miles long and with more

than a thousand miles of navigable waters, and it promises

to become an important farming and stock-raising region. As

for extent, it is large enough to cover more than twenty of

our States. In revenue it has repaid the United States the

original outlay and several millions more; while, aside from

its gold product, its fisheries have netted $100,000,000 and

its furs $80,000,000 since its acquisition. Seward, then,

was wise in looking upon this purchase as the greatest

achievement of his life, though he truly said that it would

take the country a generation to find out Alaska's value.

The most dramatic and interesting portion of the story of

Alaska is its gold-mining enterprise, and it is of this,

therefore, that we propose to speak. The discovery of placer

gold deposits in British Columbia led naturally to the

surmise that this precious metal might be found farther

northward, and as early as 1880 wandering gold-hunters had

made their way over the passes from Cassiar or inward from

the coast and were trying the gravel bars of tributaries of

the Yukon, finding the yellow metal at several places.

[Illustration: MUIR GLACIER IN ALASKA.]

The first important find along the Yukon was made on Stewart

River in 1885, about $100,000 being taken out in two

summers. The next year a good find was made at Forty-Mile

Creek, finds being made later on Sixty-Mile Creek, Birch

Creek, and other streams. On Birch Creek arose Circle City,

named from its proximity to the Arctic circle, and growing

into a well-built and well-conducted little town.

Meanwhile a valuable find had been made on Douglas Island,

one of the long chain of islands that bound the western

coast line, and this has since developed into one of the

richest mines in the world. It is not a placer mine,

however, but a quartz mine, one needing capital for its

development and with no charms for the ordinary gold-seeker.

The gold is found in a friable and easily worked rock,

enabling low-grade ores to be handled at a profit, and

to-day fifteen hundred stamps are busy and the mines are

highly profitable.

The placer miners, however, have no use for gold that rests

in quartz veins and has to be obtained by the aid of costly

stamping mills. The gold they seek is that on which nature

has done the work of stamping, by breaking up the original

veins into sands and gravels, with which the freed gold is

mixed in condition to be obtained by a simple process of

washing. The wandering miners thus prospected Alaska,

following the long course of the Yukon and trying its

tributary streams, many of them making a living, a few of

them acquiring wealth, but none of their finds attracting

the attention of the world, which scarcely knew that

gold-seekers were at work in this remote and almost unknown

region.

Thus it went on until 1897, when on July 16 a party of

miners arrived in San Francisco from the upper Yukon with a

large quantity of gold in nuggets and dust and a story to

tell that deeply stirred that old land of gold. On the 17th

another steamer put into Seattle with more miners and

$800,000 in gold dust, nearly all of it the outcome of a

winter's work on a small stream known as the Klondike,

entering the Yukon about fifty miles above Forty-Mile Creek.

The discovery of this rich placer region was made in the

autumn of 1896 by an Illinois man named George McCormick,

who, in the intervals of salmon fishing, tried his hand at

prospecting, and on Bonanzo Creek, a tributary of the

Klondike, was surprised and overjoyed to find gold in a

profusion never before dreamed of in the Alaskan region. The

news of the find spread rapidly through Alaska and before

winter set in the old diggings were largely deserted, a

swarm of eager miners poured into the Klondike region, and

the frozen earth was torn and rent in their eagerness to

reach its yellow treasures.

The news of the discovery spread as far and fast as the

telegraph could carry it. The richness of the find surpassed

anything ever before found and the whole country was agog.

The stories of wonderful fortunes made by miners were

testified to by a display of nuggets and sacks of shining

gold in stores and hotels, the find of one man being shown

in a San Francisco shop window in the shape of one hundred

and thirty thousand dollars worth of gold.

The old gold-fever broke out again as an epidemic. Such a

stampede as took place had never before been seen. The

stream of picturesque humanity that poured through Seattle

and on to the golden north surpassed the palmy days of '49

when California opened its caves of Aladdin. Every steamer

that could be made use of was booked to its full capacity,

while many ardent gold-seekers were turned away. Every

passenger and every pound of cargo that could be taken on

these steamers was loaded and the hegira was almost

instantly in full blast.

As it proved, the new find was in Canadian territory, a few

miles east of the Alaskan boundary, but the flood of men

that set in was mainly American. Many threw up good

positions or mortgaged their homes for funds to join the mad

migration, oblivious in most cases of the fact that they

were setting out to encounter hardships and arctic extremes

of temperature for which their home life had utterly

unfitted them. Warnings were published that those who joined

the pioneer flood faced starvation or death by freezing or

hardship, but the tide was on and could not be turned, and

before the autumn had far advanced thousands had landed at

the mushroom settlements of Skagway and Dyea, laden with the

effects they had brought with them and proposing to fight

their way against nature's obstacles over the difficult

mountain passes and along the little less difficult lakes

and streams to the promised land of gold. A village of log

houses and tents, known as Dawson, had sprung up at the

mouth of the Klondike, and this was the mecca towards which

the great pilgrimage set.

The struggle inland of the first comers was a frightful one.

No roads or pack-trails existed over the rough and lofty

passes of the coast range of mountains, and it was killing

work to transport the many tons of equipments and

provisions over the nearly impassable Chilkoot and White

Passes. For those who came too late in the season it was

quite impassable, the trails and rivers were stopped by snow

and ice, and numbers had to endure a long and miserable

winter in the primitive coast settlements or straggle back

to civilization.

The terrors of that first year's battle with the unbroken

passes are indescribable. Thousands of dead pack-horses

marked the way. And the mountains once crossed and the

waters reached new troubles arose. Boats had to be built for

the long reach of navigation down the chain of lakes and the

Yukon--many having brought the necessary boat timbers with

them. Six hundred miles of waterways were to be traversed.

On some of the short streams connecting the lakes there were

dangerous rapids to be run, in which many lost their goods

and some their lives. The early winter added ice to the

difficulties of the way and the Yukon section of the trip

was made by the later comers through miles of drift ice,

grinding and ploughing its way to the peril of the boats, or

water travel was checked by the final closing of the stream

for the winter, leaving no resource but a long sledging

journey over the snow.

Those who took the long voyage to the mouth of the Yukon and

journeyed by steamer up that stream had their difficulties

with ice and current, and it was not uncommon for them to be

frozen in, leaving them the sole expedient of the dog sled,

if they elected to proceed to the diggings without their

supplies.

Dawson once reached, the trouble and hardship were by no

means at an end. Having penetrated a total wilderness in an

arctic climate, borne on by dreams of sudden fortune, the

enthusiastic treasure-seekers found new difficulties

awaiting them. There was no easy task of digging and

panning, as in more favored climes. Winter had locked the

golden treasures with its strongest fetters. The ground was

everywhere frozen into the firmness of rock. In midsummer it

thawed no more than three feet down, and eternal frost

reigned below.

To reach the gold-bearing gravels the miners had to build

fires on the frozen surface and keep these going for

twenty-four hours. This would soften the soil to the depth

of some six inches. This thrown out, new fires had to be

kindled, and thus laboriously the miners burned their way

down to the gold-bearing gravel, usually at a depth of

fifteen feet. Then other fires were built at the bottom and

tunnels made through the five feet or more of "pay-dirt,"

which was dug out and piled up to await the coming of

flowing water in the spring, when the gold might be washed

out in the rockers and sluices employed.

As may be seen, the buried treasures of these gravel beds

were to be won in these pioneer years only by dint of

exhausting labor and frightful hardship. They would never

have been found at all had not the bars and shores of the

streams yielded gold at the surface level. Yet the

extraordinary richness of these gravels, from which as much

as $50,000 might be obtained as the result of a winter's

work, excited men's imaginations to the utmost, and the

stream of gold-seekers continued year after year until

Dawson grew to be a well-built and populous city and the

yearly output of the Klondike mines amounted to more than

$16,000,000.

The difficulty in reaching the mines grew less year by year.

As early as 1898 a railway was begun across the White Pass.

It now extends from Skagway more than a hundred miles

inland, the lakes and streams being traversed by steamers,

so that the purgatory of the early prospectors has been

converted into the "broad and easy way" of the later

sinners. The old method of burning into the frozen soil has

also been improved on, steam being now used instead of fire

and the pay-dirt reached much more rapidly and cheaply by

its aid.

The Klondike region, though largely prospected and worked by

Americans, is not in Alaska, Dawson lying sixty miles east

of the border. The streams of Alaska itself, so far as they

have yet been worked, are far less promising, and yet Alaska

has a golden treasure house of its own that may yet prove as

prolific as the Klondike itself.

This is at Nome, on the shores of Bering Sea, about

twenty-five degrees of longitude nearly due west from

Dawson, and a hundred and fifty miles north of the mouth of

the Yukon. Here the sands of the sea itself and of its

bordering shores have proven splendid gold bearers and have

attracted a large population to that inhospitable region, in

latitude sixty-five degrees north; here has grown up a city

containing 25,000 inhabitants, and here may be seen the most

northerly railroad in the world.

In 1898 a soldier, in digging a well on the beach at Nome,

saw in the sands thrown up that alluring yellow glint which

has led so many men to fortune and so many to death. The

story of his find came to the ears of an old prospector from

Idaho, who, too ill to go inland, was stranded in the

military station of Nome. Spade and pan were at once put to

work and in twenty days the fortunate invalid found himself

worth $3000 in gold.

At Nome the gold was first found in the beach sands and even

in the sands of the sea adjoining the beach, old Neptune

being forced to yield part of the treasures he had taken to

himself. Later, the bench of higher land stretching back

from the beach and the sides of the down-flowing creeks were

found to be gold-bearing, the bench gravels being from forty

to eighty feet thick, with gold throughout. A heavy growth

of moss covers this coastal plain, under which lie the

frozen gravels, which are softened by the use of steam and

thus forced to give up their previous freight. That is all

we need say about the gold product of Alaska, further than

to sum up that the territory yields about $10,000,000 per

year, or with the Klondike about $25,000,000, these

equalling nearly one-third the total production of the

United States. Here is a fine showing for a region once

deemed worthless.

Gold is an alluring subject, but Alaska has other sources of

wealth which enormously exceed its golden sands in value.

We have already spoken of the rich products of its fisheries

and furs. The former include several species of salmon,

which the Yukon yields in vast numbers; the latter embrace,

in addition to the usual fur-bearing animals, the valuable

fur-seal of the Aleutian Islands, a species found nowhere

else. To these sources of wealth may be added the vast

forests of valuable timber, especially of spruce, hemlock,

red and yellow cedar, which are likely to become of great

value in the growing extermination of the home forests of

the United States.

Alaska also presents excellent opportunities in its coast

districts for agriculture, most of the hardy vegetables and

cereals here yielding good crops. But a more valuable

outlook for the farmer appears to lie in the grazing

opportunities of the land. In some localities along the

south coast the grasses grow in splendid luxuriance, much of

the grass being six feet high. On the higher elevations and

in exposed places the grass is often too low for hay making

but is admirable for grazing, the cattle that eat it growing

very fat. Of these grass lands there are about 10,000 square

miles, of which more than half can be utilized.

Stock raising, then, is likely to become a leading industry,

and especially dairying, there being more meat than is

needed by the sparse population. There are admirable dairy

sites on the islands and mainland. The reindeer, recently

introduced, are likely to prove invaluable to the natives,

supplanting in great measure the dog for transportation

purposes, and supplying also food and clothing. Reindeer

milk makes excellent cheese, and in a few years there may be

deer-meat for sale outside.

Such is the story of Alaska. It occupies much the same

position on the west coast of America as Norway does on that

of Europe, but has four times as wide a habitable area as

Norway and a milder climate on its south coast lands.

Therefore, as Norway sustains a population of 2,240,000,

there is no special reason why Alaska may not yet possess a

population of 3,000,000 or 4,000,000 and take rank as one of

the important States of the American Union.

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