A NEW PARTNER
Frank Corte stood at the door of his kitchen and, with a large smile,
eyed the coming of the party. The new-comers were evidently going to
build their boat at the foot of Le Berge; and already he had favourably
sized them up.
There were many tents pitched around the cabin where Frank distributed
the necessities of human sustenance; but Dude's instincts drew him to
the kitchen, and down he and his canine followers flopped before the
door.
"Well! well! fine dogs, nice day, strangers. Going to build boat here?
yes, thought so. Thirty Mile is open to the Hootalink, and the Lewis is
getting holes in it. Early spring, sure!"
Frank's heart was hospitable; but the cost of grub was high: moreover,
the grub he cooked was not his. He was debating how far his hospitality
could go.
Frank Corte was a Hungarian by birth, and a citizen of the United States
of America, which he proudly announced as opportunity offered. He was
over six feet tall, with long arms, stooping shoulders, and an angular
form. His physical strength was enormous: there was a wealth of native
kindness in his heart. His chief diversion was argument, in
which--thanks to his study of the Bible, and a small, besmeared
pocket-edition of Webster's Dictionary--he was rather effective. He
could argue with any one; or even on necessity address his convictions
to the little red-haired female dog that was ever at his heels. Frank
thought the world of Fanny.
"Say! fellows, it's against orders to feed pilgrims, though I guess you
ain't altogether tenderfeet; but if you wants to boil your tea and cook
grub on my stove, you're welcome. Come right in and cook up."
"No, thanks," said Hugh, "though I guess I will leave the team here and
mooch round and get a good camping-place. I guess we'll be here three
weeks, and might as well set up our tent in a good place. We're not
hungry."
"That's right; and you can't have a better camping-ground than right
over against that bunch of spruce." Frank was interested in these
strangers, and his desire for news stimulated his hospitality; so he
continued, "Come right in and feed up, and look for your camping-ground
after. Days are getting long now."
Hugh hesitated, and then accepted. Frank put on more wood, to which the
tin stove quickly responded.
"How's Soapy?" he inquired.
"Fine," replied Hugh, "hold-ups galore. The people of Skagway have a
murder nearly every morning for breakfast!"
"Say! what a time Soapy would have if they only let him operate around
Dawson--wouldn't he make a killing! But them police! They don't have any
more excitement beyond the games and dance-halls in Dawson than they do
outside. That's no mining-camp for a country like this, and the crowd
what's inside there now. I don't like to see too much killing, but a
hold-up now and again is interesting!--besides, these rich claim-owners
can stand it. A fellow was telling me that it was nothing to see the
'Big Moose'[8] coming into Dawson, last summer, with ten or twenty
thousand dollars tied to his saddle, and him without a guard! Say! we're
going to have a squaw-dance Friday night in the dining-room here, will
you come? One of our fellows has an accordion, and we'll have fine
music. Only four bits a dance. I'm going to try and get some hootch.
There's nothing like hootch to get the squaws on the move--if the
yellow-legs don't get on to it. They soak you like the devil if they
catch you at it, though. Say! how's Uncle Sam getting on licking them
there Spaniards?--he'll do them up in about three weeks. I'd like to be
outside to go to the Philippines. After he gets through with the
Spaniards he's going to come in and take Canada,"--and here Frank stole
side-glances at Hugh's companions; but his instincts of hospitality
stayed him from this, his favourite joke.
[8] Indian name for the late Alexander McDonald.
"Say! where did you get those dogs? Fine team!"
"Three I got inside; the others in Skagway."
"I thought you was no chechacho. You come from Uncle Sam's country,
don't you?"
"I come from all over: what's this outfit you're with?"
"Jack Haskins is building two scows to take down some freight he hauled
in over the ice. He has me cooking for him, though I could get $250.00
in Dawson for the same job. He only pays me $150.00 per month; but I'll
soon be in with the best of them. Say! if you fellows is going to build
a boat, I'll ask Jack if you can't use one of his pits. He has two, and
I guess you fellows can get the chance to use one of his pits for all
the lumber you want--and that will save you building one. I'm glad you
fellows have showed up--it will make more company--and I hope you'll
come to our dance. You'll see the squaw-camp down the river a bit.
They're out from Dalton House, came out to Tagish, visiting some
Siwashes there, and drifted down here, just to take in the sights! Are a
bit shy, though some have picked up a little English."
"Here is another human study," thought John, as he and his friends moved
over to the point suggested for their encampment. They found it
satisfactory, so went back for the dogs.
"Say! if you fellows want anything in the way of dishes, or if you're
real short of any grub, maybe I can let you have it on the sly," said
Frank to the party as they returned, his hospitality getting ahead of
his morals. But Hugh assured him the party was fixed up all right.
Frank's generosity was of the aggressive kind, for as John Berwick's
party sat in their tent that evening he stuck his head in at the door
and said they could have the use of one of Haskins' saw-pits on the
morrow, and probably right along.
"Don't work too hard, for I want you to be lively on Friday night! Two
fellows have just blown in from Dawson, and they say the river is full
of holes; so it is just as well you fellows don't have to build a pit;
it looks like an early opening, maybe about the first of May."
"The river won't open by the first of May, but it will before the tenth,
most likely," commented Hugh.
Next morning the party visited the yard where the scows were building,
and introduced themselves to Mr. Haskins, who again informed them that
the saw-pits were at their disposal when he did not require them.
"Ever do any whip-sawing?" asked Haskins.
"Some," said Hugh.
"It's no picnic."
"I never found it so. How's timber? That looks pretty good up the hill
there," and Hugh pointed to a clump of spruce.
"Yes, it's all right; but you'll find bigger and clearer stuff higher
up, and you can mush it down the hill easy. I suppose you have your own
saw?"
With this the three friends stormed the hill. They were to cut the trees
and slide them to the bottom, after which the dogs would aid in hauling
them to the pit. The trees Hugh selected were the larger ones, clean and
free from knots. By the close of the day sufficient logs were at the
pit.
A saw "pit" is a scantling of poles eight feet high, on which the logs
are placed to be sawn. The _modus operandi_ is that one man stands below
the log and another on the top: the upper man pulls the saw towards him,
the lower man co-operates. The work is simplicity itself, but very hard.
The three companions would want from two to three hundred feet of
lumber, which meant perspiration and backache. As Hugh expressed it,
"the upper man is up against about the hardest proposition a white man
puts himself at, these days."
About three o'clock on the first afternoon of whip-sawing Frank Corte
appeared with Fanny at his heels. George was the upper man, and even his
elastic muscles were aching at the work. Hugh was having a spell off,
but keeping an eye on his friends.
"Ha! how do you fellows like hard work? This will teach you to go
hunting after gold! What have you done with your last summer's wages?
Say! we're going to have a great time at the dance--a regular potlatch:
one of the Sticks has just come in saying he's killed a caribou back on
the hills, and is going to potlatch it. Now if I can only get some
hootch! I'd give ten dollars a bottle for some."
"Better cut the hootch out," said Hugh. "The police may catch you and
send you down to Dawson; and put you sawing wood for Queen Victoria. And
it won't be Uncle Sam's men who will be chasing you with a Winchester."
"Yes, yes. A damned pity Uncle Sam would not come over and take Canada:
then we should have a camp at Dawson."
George was very hot and sore; and this sort of bantering was new to
him. He was in that humour which causes a man to go into a fight on
little provocation; but John, he noticed, was smiling amicably, so he
held his peace.
"If this was Uncle Sam's country, Soapy would have been here taking away
your wages before this," laughed Hugh.
"I wouldn't kick if he could do the trick. Say! can you dance? This is
going to be a swell dance all right! Wish I had enough lumber to cover
the floor, so we could dance proper. Poles is mighty hard to dance on.
Well, I must be going--I have some beans boiling. Don't you fellows tire
yourselves too much sawing lumber, so you can't dance to-morrow night."