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Smiles and Tears
from the Klondyke
V
A Collection of Stories and Sketches
with eight Illustrations
i
By Alice Rollins Crane
Author of "The Dawson Widow," " Priest and Man," "Juanita," etc.
Doxey's
At the Sign of the Lark New York
Copyright, 1901,
bjr ALICE ROLLINS CRANE.
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EB9392
CONTENTS
PAGB
INTRODUCTION 7
TI-SUK 13
THE FLOOD AROUND KOYEKUK 19
" QUARE " CASES 41
N. W. M. P 49
SHE Is DEAD 57
A DAWSON MAGDALENE 67
ONE OF THE MANY 77
A MINER POET 85
A TALE OF TAILS 89
AFTER CHRISTMAS IN THE POLICE COURT 95
" ONLY ONE MORE " 103
A KLONDYKER IN SEATTLE in
WHO Is TO BLAME ? 119
A CHAPTER OF GRIEVANCES 1 35
JULY FOURTH IN A KLONDYKE PRISON 143
SHE SOFTENED THE MAJOR 151
WHITE HORSE RAPIDS 157
A FRAGMENT OF THE TRIP 171
A GAMBLER 177
JUGGLING IN WHITE HORSE RAPIDS 193
WAS IT A DREAM? 197
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
ALICE ROLLINS CRANE (From photograph by W. H. Stalee,
Washington, D, C) Frontispiece
PAGE
THE HONORABLE WILLIAM OGILVIE 19
WILLIAM GALPIN 50
PLAYED OUT (From a photograph by E. A. Hegg) 78
THE MAN WITH THE FRY PAK 136
STREET IN DAWSON (From a photograph by E. A. Hegg) 144 WHITE HORSE RAPIDS (From a photograph by E.A. Hegg) 1 58 PORCUPINE CANYON — ON THE WAY TO THE WHITE PASS.. 171
INTRODUCTION
FROM a collection of stories told in the far away Klondyke by Klondykers I have culled these now presented to the reader.
With the exception of that entitled "Was It a Dream ?" which appeared originally in a local Daw- son paper, they are printed now for the first time and will, I trust, prove of more than ordinary in- terest to the reader.
Of the authors of several of the tales a few words will not be out of place, and I take this opportunity of thanking them all most heartily for their re- spective contributions.
The Honorable William Ogilvie, Commissioner of the Yukon Territory, was born at Ottawa in 1846. He passed his examination as surveyor in 1869, and for thirty years has worked for his Gov- ernment literally by night and day — for of the one hundred and twenty thousand miles he has travelled, many thousands have been accomplished under the star-lit heavens and the Northern Lights. He has made surveys of the mighty Athabasca, Peace, Yu-
8 Introduction
kon, Porcupine, Mackenzie and other rivers ; he has camped amid the loneliness of the far North- West and British Columbia. Among the honors that have been showered upon him was the bestowal of that coveted prize among explorers — the Murchi- son Medal of the Royal Geographical Society of Great Britain. He is popular among the miners of all nationalities in the Klondyke and his judg- ments are always noted for their justness. He has, moreover, studied the manners and customs of the Indians all over Canada and the North- West Territory, and was courteous enough to aid me materially in my efforts as Special Commis- sioner, to obtain data of the folklore and mythol- ogy of the Alaskan Indians for the Bureau of Ethnology of the Smithsonian Institute of Wash- ington.
Captain William Galpin is one of Dawson's leading business men and promoters, able, as sev- eral stories will prove, to tell a tale when he has a mind to; a Klondyker to the backbone — genial, straightforward and daring.
Mrs. Ella H. Cunningham is too well known to readers of our popular journals, magazines and other periodicals to need an introduction. A genuine Eastern woman of the true ring — refined, yet hating conventionalities, kind-hearted and generous, independent and brave, she was as well known in the Klondyke as she is in the outside
Introduction 9
world and endured the hardships and privations of northern life along with the most robust of men.
Of my other raconteurs I need only say that they "know whereof they write," and that to the pleasant companionship of one and all of them I owe the happiest hours of my sojourn in the "white country."
It is my intention at a later period to publish a second series of these "Smiles and Tears," elab- orately illustrated by original views taken in the North- West. In that series the reader may once again be introduced to the tellers of these tales and to others, perhaps, besides.
ALICE ROLLINS CRANE.
THE TI-SUK
A Legend of the Tin-Ji-Su Indians of the North-West
WILLIAM OGILVIE
The Ti-Suk
A LEGEND OF THE TIN-JI-SU INDIANS OF THE NORTH- WEST
WILLIAM OGLIVIE
THE Ti-suk is a worm, or reptile, which is found in the lower Yukon country in dry, rocky places. When at rest it is about three inches long, but while travelling is supposed to stretch itself to twice that length. In appear- ance it resembles the centipede, being multi-leg- ged, and having long, curved antennae which, like those of the common snail, can be drawn into the head when trouble is anticipated. It differs from the centipede, however, in that its glossy body is marked alternately black and white, giving the thing a brilliant appearance and making it apt to appeal to the superstition of the natives.
When one is found by the Indians inhabiting the bleak district stretching northward along the coast from St. Michaels, they immediately proceed to hedge it in with sticks, leaves and other matter, and offer it any pieces of colored cloth or ribbon they may possess, all the time invoking it not to be
14 Smiles and Tears
unkind to them or visit them or their relations witK bad luck.
They are firmly of the belief that anyone encoun- tering it will be unfortunate in some way, either losing a relative by death in the near future, or by being subjected to some other grievous affliction, hence the invocation made to it.
The origin of this belief is the following legend:
In the past a worm of this kind lived on a high mountain on the coast, called by the natives Kin- nigh-tuk, which means high steep cliff or rock. The son of the chief of the locality, while out hunting one day, found it, and being much pleased with its appearance sat down and began to fondle it, giving it to eat some of the most tender meat he had.
Soon after he visited it again and fed it with more dainties. This continued until he became enamored of it and even neglected his house and friends to spend his time with it, hunting for and feeding it with the choicest game.
On this course of diet it developed to large pro- portions, and the more it grew the more food it required, until at length an entire caribou barely sufficed to satisfy its greedy maw.
Thus passed many moons through their succes- sive phases, thus swung the placid constellations around their lord, the eternal pole star, until the Ti-suk became exacting and intolerant, insisting
The Ti-Suk 15
that the young man devote himself entirely to it, always giving it his first attention.
It grew as jealous as a love-hungry squaw, often following him over the ice fields and through gloomy forests, spying upon him to see that he did as it desired.
When the young man went seal hunting or fish- ing it would await him on the beach, and no matter how tired or hungry the returned man might be he had to attend immediately to the Ti-suk's wants. When he became forgetful of these duties the Ti- suk would roar in a soul terrifying manner and would terrorize him with hostile demonstrations.
Fain had the young man released himself from such subjection, but he dared not even at- tempt it.
One day, when the forest was silent with the weight of snow upon the shoulders of its trees, he went out hunting and travelled far before he saw any game. At length he came upon four caribou, which he killed, and being very tired and hungry he made a fire and proceeded to cook some of the meat for himself.
But the Ti-suk had followed, and finding him thus engaged raised a terrible uproar, giving vent to its fury in tremendous roars and violent contortions of its body. In its passion it not only pulverized the rocks in the vicinity, but it also fell upon the terror-stricken chief and destroyed him.
1 6 Smiles and Tears
Then, having in this way expended some of its rage, it made its way down the mountain side, ploughing the rock as it went and leaving a valley which has since been the bed of a tremendous creek.
The Ti-suk made its way out of the country southward and has never been seen or heard of since in that part of the world, but the natives still have a dread of its kind.
The Flood Around Koyekuk
WILLIAM OGILVIE
The Flood Around Koyekuk
WILLIAM OGILVIE
AT the confluence of the lower Yukon and a smaller stream yet unhonored with the dignity of a name, there was situated ages ago a large Indian camp, boasting two dance houses. In the camp dwelt an old man, the husband of two wives and the father of five sons, but a most unlucky hunter.
One fine morning, before the world was snow- sheeted and while the birds were still coming up from the south lands, the old man took his bow and bone-tipped arrows, and his spear with the tuft of feathers at the end, and went forth to hunt, directing his steps toward the small stream above mentioned. All that day he hunted, and all the night, but although he saw many sea lions they eluded his arrows and his spear and his heart grew heavy within him. The next morning he gave up the hunt.
On his way homeward he passed a village in which his mother had once dwelt. Tender and sad recollections overcame him and he sat down and
2O Smiles and Tears
wept. After a while, however, he reflected and reasoned thus within himself :
"What is the use of weeping ! My mother never cared for me much; she never petted me nor kept dainties for me as other mothers did for their boys!"
He then got up and continued his way home- ward till he came to where high hills bordered the river. Passing these he came to a grove of birch trees, at sight of which he stopped suddenly.
"I cannot go home empty-handed," he said, "I must take something or the young men will laugh at me. I will take home some birch bark that the women may exchange it for salmon or beads."
So he cut a lot of the bark, made baskets of it, and placed the baskets in his canoe. Then, fearing, the ridicule of the young men, he cut himself open and let his bowels out. Having bandaged himself he proceeded to wash and clean his entrails, which he found, to his great joy, were covered with fat in such large quantities that they filled two bas- kets. These he also placed in his canoe and again started homeward, singing a song in which he hon- ored his mother. For his heart was now light within him.
When he arrived at his village the sons of his favorite wife met him on the beach and expressed great joy that he had secured such quantities of fat. The names of these three young men were
The Flood Around Koyekuk 21
"Crow's Wing," "Nigger Head" (Haugh-tin) and "Holding His Arm." The names of his other sons are unknown, neither do they nor his other wife figure in the story.
The old man greeted his sons affectionately and bade them go and bid their mother dress herself and meet him; he also bade them tell their grand-* mother don all her finery and then help the mother cook, for he wished to give a great feast, consist- ing of meat and fish eggs, at his house to the people of the village.
Then the old man unloaded his canoe, went up to the dance, or assembly house, and, having gath- ered the people around him, proceeded to tell them what a successful hunt he had had, how he had killed two caribou, but that they had rolled down into a snowdrift and that he had lost them. He then told them how he had fastened his knife to the end of a dry willow, and, after much difficulty, had succeeded in cutting them open and abstracting the fat from their bodies.
While the young men were regretting they had not been with him to help secure the meat, his fa- vorite wife entered with a large dish of the fat; this he distributed among the people in the assembly house, bidding his wife reserve the eggs for their own needs.
While the distribution was progressing several of the people remarked that the fat had a peculiar
22 Smiles and Tears
odor, but the old man looked darkly at them and said it was only a matter of imagination.
His wife then led him home.
Presently the old grandmother entered and commenced serving the meal. To do this the more easily she removed the buckskin mitten from her left hand and threw it on the ground. The old man commenced swallowing the soup greedily until he discovered that the bandages around his belly were bursting from the pressure put upon them; he therefore hastily picked up the mitten, placed it inside the bandages to strengthen them and resumed his meal.
But when the grandmother missed the mitten there was trouble in the hut. Search was made for it everywhere and finally the keen eyed Crow's Wing saw a part of it projecting from beneath the bandage encircling his father's belly. Think- ing to play a joke upon the old man he jerked the mitten away. Instantaneously water flowed from the wound in such quantities that the hut, the vil- lage and the whole country was inundated.
And the great waters forced themselves into the bodies of all men and women so that they became dead — all save Crow's Wing, who had jumped into a huge wooden dish and was thus enabled to save his life.
For six days Crow's Wing floated in his wooden dish and then the waters began to subside. During
The Flood Around Koyekuk 23
that time nothing was visible save turbulent waters and the threatening sky above him. On the seventh day the flood subsided and then Crow's Wing landed close to his former home and proceeded to look for the bodies of his relations. But the great waters had swept them away and there remained no sign of them.
Feeling very hungry he searched for something to eat, walking along the beach in a northerly di- rection, and presently found some fish eggs of which he partook ; then he reached the bed of an old river and there he found some small dead fish, with which he satisfied his immediate hunger.
He continued walking in a northerly direction for five days until, when nearly dead with exhaustion, he saw smoke rising in the distance and directed his steps thereto. After a day's journeying he ar- rived at a neat cabin with several caches around it, the door of which was ornamented with beads of many colors. Opening the outer, or porch door, he entered the cabin and found therein a very handsome woman, stout and large limbed, and apparently forty- five years old. Her nose was ornamented with blue beads, hanging suspended from her nostrils; her swart hair was parted in the middle and ornamented with beads on each side; the sleeves of her loose gown were rolled up and her wrists and arms were bound with copper and heavy brass bracelets.
When she saw Crow's Wing she was overjoyed, and exclaimed :
24 Smiles and Tears
"Oh, you beautiful youth, where did you come from?"
This kindness affected the young man so deeply that he burst into tears. Then she tenderly enquired of him what his troubles were, and when he had satisfied his hunger and recovered somewhat, he re- lated to her all that had happened to him during the past few weeks. She expressed her sympathy for him, told him she was all alone in the world, and that he must remain with her.
Later in the day she went forth to hunt, first cau-, tioning the young man that he must by no means fol- low her. He therefore remained in the cabin while she visited her hunting grounds.
Late in the evening the woman returned, heavily laden with walrus meat. Going to one of her caches she took therefrom many delicacies, fur blankets, parkeys and reindeer skin boots. These last she bestowed upon her guest; then she heated water for him to wash with and arranged a bed of the blankets for him to sleep on at night. When, he was clean, and had dressed himself in his new clothes, he threw his soiled garments away and then, the two sat down to partake of a meal.
With this woman Crow's Wing remained many months, during which time she taught him how and where to hunt and many other things, such as the curing of skins and the making of deadly spears.
One morning the young man wished to accompany
The Flood Around Koyekuk 25
her upon the hunt but she bade him remain at home and prepare a meal against her return. All day he waited for her and then, growing anxious, he fol- lowed her tracks until he came to a high mountain, sloping abruptly down to the sea. At the foot of this mountain, close to the beach, were several large rocks and there the tracks ceased suddenly. Then Crow's Wing, who had learned her methods, divined that she had used these rocks as a place of conceal- ment ; that she had wound her spear line around one of them, had speared a huge walrus and by it been dragged, along with the rock on which she lay, into the very depths of the sea.
Hastening home, he took from one of the caches a large ivory spear to which was attached an extra length of walrus line. He then cut down a small tree, which he set up where once the rock had been, and used it as a snubbing post, attaching to it the end of his line. Then he concealed himself behind a small rock and was very still.
For several days he continued the hunt. On the fifth he was rewarded by spearing a huge walrus, and, the snubbing post having bitten well into the beach, was enabled by degrees and after much diffi- culty to haul it in and skin it.
Upon opening the stomach he found it contained the bones of a human body. Washing them care- fully, he carried them to his hut; then he spread them upon a new caribou skin and put the skeleton
26 Smiles and Tears
together. When this task was completed he found he had everything but the bones of the little finger of the right hand, and, being desirous of replacing it, he trimmed a piece of wood with his teeth and laid it with the other bones.
It turned out, however, to be a poor piece of work- manship, and that is the reason why our little fingers are crooked.
Then he brought fresh water and sprinkled the joints, taking the caribou skin and covering them with it. Then he walked around the skeleton, fol- lowing the course of the sun, and sprinkling the robe the while. Presently it began to move. Five times he walked around it and five times it trembled. Then he threw the flaps of the skin aside and found the woman inside, regenerated and more beautiful.
Great was his surprise and he could only ejacu- late, "Dear aunt!"
The woman turned her face from him.
He exclaimed, "Dear cousin !"
Again the woman turned from him.
He tried, "Dear mother!"
But the woman only frowned at him, for she was both young and beautiful.
The young man considered and finally exclaimed, "Dear wife!"
And then the woman leaped to him and embraced him, and they were both very happy.
Later on she told him there was only one thing
The Flood Around Koyekuk 27
she wanted him to observe when he went out hunting and that was to be sure and kill no female seals.
Crow's Wing asked the woman how he could avoid making this mistake, but she, with woman's reason, only reiterated, "Don't!"
For many years Crow's Wing and the woman lived happily together and whenever he returned from the hunt she met him on the beach and exam- ined his kill.
Many caribou likewise fell before his arrows, and finally, although his wife was better to him than any other woman could have been, he was watched by her. Wearied of the restraint she put upon him he determined to thwart her and, come what might of it, to kill a female seal.
So he built him a light, swift kayak, for the fe- male seals are swift swimmers, and when his wife asked him why he built such a light kayak he merely replied :
"Because I wish a light kayak."
When the kayak was completed Ke prepared for the hunt and, not knowing what would happen, he placed in it two extra parkeys, two extra pairs of light boots and two extra pairs of mittens and put forth to sea. Many seals he killed that day, putting their meat in his kayak, and finally he killed a fe- male, which he placed on top of the meat. Then he returned home and unloaded everything before his wife came down to meet him.
28 Smiles and Tears
Anticipating trouble he left the kayak so that he could jump into it quickly, placing his two double and three single paddles close to his hand. Then, as his wife was not to be seen, he went up to the house for his favorite knife and, looking down to the beach, saw the woman hastening toward him, screaming horribly.
He hid himself in the outer porch of the house but she saw him and screamed :
"I told you not to kill my female seals! I told you not to kill my female seals!"
Then Crow's Wing saw that she was dangerous, so he fled to his kayak, jumped into it and put forth to sea, paddling for dear life. When he was some distance from the shore he looked back and saw his hut was in flames. He also heard his wife scream- ing:
"I thought so; I thought he would do it in spite of the warning I gave him !"
Suddenly he became aware of the woman, wrapt in a mantle of fire, swimming after him. He put forth all his strength to elude her, but day and night she followed him, burning like a mountain, and all the water around her seemed aflame.
When she neared him, he threw a piece of meat to her, but she shrieked back :
"Do not think to elude me, for I will follow you and kill you."
She then sank beneath the waves, but came up
The Flood Around Koyekuk 29
again nearer than ever and blazing as before. Again he cast meat to her and again she sank, and when he had nothing more to throw out of the kayak a great fear came over him for still she followed him, fierce and fiery.
When almost exhausted he managed to reach the land and, jumping out of his kayak, threw his mits at the woman, but she gobbled them up and con- tinued the chase, screaming:
"I told you not to kill my female seals! I told you not to kill my female seals !"
When she saw him getting out of his kayak she screamed :
"I will catch you yet; you cannot escape me!"
While she was yet swimming, he threw the kayak at her and endeavored to crawl up the bank, but was stiff and tired. Thus the fiery fury behind him was enabled io decrease the distance between them. See- ing this, fear gave the pursued man fresh strength and when he reached the top of the bank he perceived in the distance a cabin, from the roof of which smoke issued.
Dragging himself toward it he entered and found two old women within, who were much frightened at his abrupt appearance and asked him why he was so pale. He told them he was trying to escape from a fire which pursued him. Hastily they gave him some dried fish and then pointed out to him a path by which he might escape to the mountains.
3O Smiles and Tears
.With fear still impelling him onward he left them, hearing behind him the screams of his wife, the smoke of her hot breath almost overpowering him. He crossed two high mountains, the dry fish and the fear in his heart giving him strength. Then he saw another cabin and, hearing his wife still screaming behind him, he rushed into it and found two old women similar to the occupants of the first cabin.
They asked him where he came from and what was the matter, and he again replied that he was pursued by a fire from which he was trying to es- cape. They likewise gave him some dried fish and directed him to a path by which he could reach a place of safety, and also told him to pass three hills, when from the fourth he would see a cabin situated in an almost inaccessible place, at the door of which two brown bears kept watch by night and day ; that his approach would be made known by two cranes, and that he must give the bears whatever he had in his hand.
Hearing the voice of the woman Crow's Wing fled onward and, when he came to the cabin with the bears in front of it he threw them some dried fish and darted inside, calling for aid. Then he fainted from exhaustion.
In the cabin there was a young woman, and she called to her father to help restore the stranger to consciousness. While they were doing this the flam-
The Flood Around Koyekuk 31
ing woman approached the house, but the bears seized her and devoured her piecemeal.
When Crow's Wing recovered consciousness he found himself in a large cabin, lying on a soft bed of moose skins. At his side were the young woman and her two parents. They nursed him tenderly, bathed him and gave him clean garments and threw away the old ones.
For four days the old man kept him, and when he was recovered said to him :
"My son, do you suppose your troubles are now over?"
The young man moodily nodded his head.
"Well," continued the father, "you are not through with them yet. Across the point from here there is a great chief, who is a bad man but has a very beautiful daughter. When a young man wishes to marry her he permits it, but finally kills his son-in-law. If the young man is handsome he permits them to live together for five days ; if the young man is not good looking he is killed after the third day. The daughter will come to visit me to-day ; she will see you and you will have to marry her."
"Is there no escape?" the young man asked.
"No," replied the father, "you will have to go, for he is a very powerful chief. Moreover, he is very jealous of me and, knowing that you are here, he will send her after you and you will have to marry her."
32 Smiles and Tears
The evening came and with it the chief's daughter. When Crow's Wing saw her he could not help ad- miring her. She was ornamented with beautiful beads, one of a rare blue color being suspended from her nose.
After she had been seated some little time she looked upon the young man and said :
"Father has sent me after you; you must come with me."
But Crow's Wing shook his head.
"No, no," he replied. "I do not have to go. I am weary after my long journey. I cannot go to- night."
Then the chief's daughter went back to her father.
"It is useless," said the old man to Crow's Wing, when she had left the cabin. "She will be sent back for you. You will have to go this very night. But I will give you some advice which may save you. Of course, he will not try to kill you until the five days are up. Then you must be watchful. Do not sleep. Remove the bead from your wife's nose, cut off her hair, and when she is fast asleep change places with her, put her hair on your head and put her nose bead on your nose. The chief will come in when it is dark and will kill his daughter. Then you must jump up and run here as quickly as you can. We will be on the watch for you and will do our best to help you."
Later in the evening the chief's daughter returned
The Flood Around Koyekuk 33
and Crow's Wing dressed himself in his best clothes and followed her to her own village.
When the young woman had looked well upon him she saw that he was comely and her heart went out unto him and she told him that never had she loved a young man as she did him.
"I feel sorry for you," said she, "and must tell you that my father is a very bad man. He kills every- body with whom I keep company. On the fifth day of our marriage he will kill you, despite the fact that I love you."
Then Crow's Wing was sorry for her, for she was a beautiful woman and he knew she would be killed in his place.
When they arrived at the village they were given a great reception, receiving rich gifts of furs and meat, and ivory, and fat and beads.
For four days they lived together very happily and on the fifth day Crow's Wing was very careful. Late in the evening the young couple retired, but when his wife was fast asleep he dressed himself again. Then he cut off her hair, removed the bead from her nose and placed her on his side of the bed. When this was done he laid himself down in her place and pretended to sleep.
Early in the morning he heard the wicked old chief telling his wife he was going to kill the new son-in-law. The woman begged him to desist.
"You have had plenty to eat," said she, "and our
34 Smiles and Tears
cache is full of caribou and walrus meat. The young couple are happy. Why kill him ?"
But the chief bade her rnind her own business and then went to that part of the cabin where the young people were lying.
Crow's Wing saw the old man coming, a sharp knife glittering in his hand. When he approached the bed he drew his hand gently across the two faces and rinding, as he believed, the son-in-law, he drew the knife across his throat and cut off the head. Then he grunted with satisfaction.
"Jump up, daughter," said he, "jump up and get me a dish that I may save the blood."
Crow's Wing jumped out of bed and rushed from the dark cabin toward the home of his friends, calling loudly for help as he went.
Soon after his escape the wicked chief put a stick in the smoldering embers and lit the cabin. When he saw whom he had killed he was exceeding wroth and without loss of time started in pursuit of Crow's Wing, who was becoming fatigued.
The chief cursed Crow's Wing's feet and legs with such effect that he lost control of them and fell over ; then he dragged himself forward on his elbows, but again the chief cursed him and he lay motionless on the snow.
All this while he had been calling loudly and pite- ously for help, and just as the chief was about to pounce upon him the young woman who had be-
The Flood Around Koyekuk 35
friended him before appeared on the scene with a sleigh. She helped him into it and drove him to her cabin and laid him on a soft bed. Her father then told her to let loose the two brown bears and close the windows and the doors.
A few minutes later the chief arrived, but the bears were hungry and they fell on him and de- voured him.
Then the wife of the wicked chief arrived, but the two bears made short work of her. For several days the other members of his family came, one after another, and were all devoured.
Then the doors and the windows of the cabin were opened, Crow's Wing was given a fresh bath, attired in clean raiment, and soon became strong again.
The old man told him that his troubles were now probably over, so Crow's Wing took his bow and ar- rows and went forth to hunt, bringing in much meat to the cache, and many skins and furs.
He fell in love with the old man's daughter, who had twice saved his life, and one evening he asked the old man for her.
"My son," said he, "you are both comely and brave and I should like to have you for a son-in-law. The girl has never been in love yet and if you can win her you may have her."
So Crow's Wing made himself agreeable to the young woman, told her he loved her and won her.
36 Smiles and Tears
They were married and lived very happily for a year.
During the summer season while he was out hunt- ing he often saw a man watching him, but who always disappeared when approached. Crow's Wing told his wife about the strange occurrence and asked her what it meant.
"Do not be afraid of him," she said. "Two brothers, men from over the mountains, live over there and he is one of them. The next time you see him, call to him and go straight to him. We had better become friends."
The next time Crow's Wing went out he saw the strange man and went up to him. The man threw himself down on the ground, but Crow's Wing asked him why he was afraid.
"I am very lonesome here," answered the strange man. "There are no young men to associate with. Come with me. I have killed a caribou. Come to my cabin to-night."
But Crow's Wing was afraid.
"No, no," said he. "Come to my cabin !"
But the strange man shook his head.
"I cannot come," he replied. "I have never been away from my cabin for a whole night. I cannot leave."
"You must come with me to-night," said Crow's Wing, "and the next time I will go with you. I also have much meat in my cache. Come and partake of it."
The Flood Around Koyekuk 37
So they went together to Crow's Wing's home, the old man being much ashamed as they neared the place.
He remained over night with them. Next morn- ing Crow's Wing consulted with his wife and said that as the stranger had come to their cabin he must now go to his. The wife told him to go and fear nothing.
So Crow's Wing went to the stranger's cabin and the men finally became great friends; they visited each other regularly, and gave great feasts, until the members of each family knew one another in- timately. .
And this intimacy still exists.
WILLIAM OG1LVIE
'Quare" Cases
WILLIAM OGLIVIE
1WAS sitting on a log one evening, laying out a program of work; a few yards from me the mighty Yukon rolled placidly toward the sea, distant more than fifteen hundred miles. The waters near by along the shore were disturbed by the poles of four stalwart men, who were propelling a boat up stream to the trading post at Forty Mile, then just becoming a town and destined to be for several years the principal one along the river.
!As soon as they saw men at work the desire to "swap ideas" was too much for them. The four travellers beached their boat, came up the bank and exchanged salutations with me. The work in hand requiring my close attention for some time I held no conversation with them, so three of the men, perceiv- ing my attention to be riveted on my task, went over to where my party were at work building our winter quarters.
The fourth man I Had noticed while greeting him was a tall, uncoutH fellow, wearing an old battered hat, frayed and dirty, the band of which had been re-
42 Smiles and Tears
placed by a frayed rope, which passed in and out through slits made just above the rim. Thrust through one of these loops, between the rope and the hat itself, was an old, much used pipe. This typi- cal head gear covered a mass of red matted curls which evidently had not been intimate with comb or brush for many weeks. The curls covered a well formed head, and lay unevenly around a fine brow, under which beamed two large, blue eyes which be- spoke a frank, honest mind behind. The jaw and mouth were covered with a red beard, the hue of which was much clouded by deposits of the Yukon sands and clay. Had the man been dudish the head could by care and cleanliness have been rendered handsome. Even as it was the face begrimed with dirt, (the result of the application of hands at one time covered with the mud of the Yukon, at another with the grease from his cooking uten- sils, and anon with the flour and water which formed his daily bread), was far from repulsive. This soiled head was set on a long, slen- der neck, which was completely bare, save for the all- pervading grimy dirt. His body was scantily cov- ered with a coarse, blue flannel shirt, the collar of which would not button around the neck, and was held as closely as possible to it by a piece of stout cord, passed through the button hole on one side and a slit made by a knife-blade on the other. The sleeves were much too short for the long, muscular
"Quare" Cases 43
arms, and the buttons on both wrists were gone, but the left was held close to the wrist by a piece of the same cord that fastened the collar. The right sleeve was untied, and was ripped up to the armpit, which allowed it to generally hang loose and wing-like down the side. A pair of blue jeans pants served to cover the lower part of the body, and part of the long, sinewy legs. When standing, the ankle was not covered by them, and, when sitting, part of the leg was bare too. On the long feet were a pair of low, coarse shoes, between which and the feet was a pair of cheap blue cotton stockings, much too attenu- ated to stand up round the ankle and leg they were intended to cover, and which lay in ignominious con- cealment in the mouth of the large, coarse shoe.
I only cast a glance at this strange conglomera- tion, but its unusual individuality so impressed me that, although it is nearly twelve years ago since I saw the tout ensemble, I have not noted any decrease of intensity in the imprint on my gray matter, or whatever it may be holds those perceptions.
Noticing that I was occupied the man sat down on a log, threw one of his long legs over the other, uncovering as he did so, more of the upper one than would be considered proper in polite society, reached for his old pipe and proceeded to charge it with a good long smoke. This I perceived, though I was not looking at him, by that sense of vision which en- ables us to see sideways what is not the subject of
44 Smiles and Tears
our view. The pipe charged, it was lit, and the smoker was soon in that cloud-land, physically and mentally, which seems to be the desire of all votaries of the weed.
My program finished, I sighed in sympathy with the vast solitude around me, broken only by the labors of my men, then looked up at the man in the cloud. Perceiving this, he extended the long, bare right arm and with a wave parted the cloud ; at the same time he took the pipe from his mouth with the left hand, and in a deep seated, rich Irish voice said:
"Did you run lines at Lot No. 3, in the fourth concession of the township of Cumberland, in 1871 ?"
Sixteen years had elapsed since that time, but I recognized the voice as that of one of my earliest clients professionally.
"Yes," I replied, "and I ran them for J— T ."
Locally he had been known as Long John, and but few knew him by any other appellation.
Instantly he was on his feet. With both hands extended he approached me saying, as he came:
"I thought so! I thought so! How in are
yer? I heard there was a man of yer name comin' down the river, but I niver thought it was you, by
. Ye wur only a boy whin I knew ye and I niver
thought ye would be runnin' loines between two countries." Then a running fire of questions was kept up, all in an inimitable rich Irish brogue and ac-
"Quare" Cases 45
cent, so intoned and accentuated that, without the least bit of consciousness on the speaker's part that it was so, the effect was extremely comical and laugh- able.
Soon after my party and the other three travellers joined us, supper was prepared, and during the meal peal after peal, or rather roar after roar, of laughter followed "Long John's" queer, comical remarks and questions.
He had left his home in Canada sixteen years be- fore, through a cause which was creditable to his heart. His only sister had died quite unexpectedly, and the loss so affected him that he sought solace in banishment.
The conversation — principally sustained by Long John — was carried on far into the night, — the fire f romtime to time being replenished as was necessary, for the evening, though beautifully clear and starry, was somewhat chilly.
John monopolized one side of it himself, and when it burned low and fitfully, now glowing brightly, now sinking into darkness, the effect was indescrib- able. Often as he spoke, to emphasize some re- mark, he would extend his right arm, always saying as he did so, "Now I tell ye, boys." As the arm came out the open sleeve would fall off it, when in- stantly he would jerk it into place with his left hand, remarking sotto voce as he did so, " that shirt !"
I cannot say how many times this occurred, but
46 Smiles and Tears
every time it did a roar of laughter followed, which did not seem to affect John in the least. At length, after about five hours' almost ceaseless questioning and narrative, he seemed exhausted, and devoted all his energies to smoking, and as we caught occasional dim glimpses of him through the red glimmer of the low fire, he seemed like some strange nondescript be- ing from another planet, or one of the rigid men of the stone age, as we might imagine them to be.
The silence was profound. He seemed wrapped in contemplation, and we devoted all our energies to seeing as much of him as the flickering fire would permit. I do not know that any one of us wondered what he was thinking about, but I do know that we were all waiting to laugh uproariously at whatever he would say.
After about ten minutes of the most solemn si- lence, he calmly removed his pipe from his lips, ex- tended his right hand in the profoundest manner, almost extinguished the fire with an accumulation of saliva, and remarked in tones of absolute sincerity and conviction :
"I tell ye, boys, when a man travels he meets some *quare cases.' I'll be if he doesn't.'
I have some times wondered if the roar that fol- lowed was not heard in the civilized world, and noted by scientists as an earthquake or some other phenomenon. At any rate John never saw the "quare case" as we did.
N. W. M. P.
WILLIAM GALPIN
. N. W. M. P.
WILLIAM GALPIN
IT was during the Autumn of '97 that the Klondyke found its way into most of the news- papers of England. The reports were so gar- bled, so exaggerated, so like fairy stories, that one could make but little out of them, except that if one could only reach the land of promise alive, and keep alive just a few months, he could return a million- aire.
There were two drawbacks upon which all seemed with common consent to agree, namely, the inhos- pitable climate and the more inhospitable people.
Against the former everybody appeared well equipped, with outfits sufficient to keep them warm at the North Pole; and against the latter even women as well as men were equally well prepared with firearms and ammunition sufficient to shoot all the inhabitants, human or brutal, in the whole Dominion of Canada.
Every one seemed to believe that the Klondyke was held by Indians and man-eating miners, who had to be put down with the aid of a Colt, Wesson, or
50 Smiles and Tears
Webley; hence it was a common sight to see men armed to the teeth, with cartridge belt well filled, a revolver which had never been fired (and never would be), or one which had done good service in old mining camps by its threatening length, suggest- ing its use as a club to kill the mythical deer and duck (which they never saw).
Perhaps there never was a town so well supplied with ammunition as Dawson was in '98, for very few had an opportunity of using their guns on the frequented trail and the misguided prospectors who had taken the easy ( !) Edmonton and other over- land routes did not arrive in Dawson that year !
To-day it is one of the sights to walk through a secondhand store and note the array of Winches- ters, Marlins, Remingtons, Colts, and Wessons ac- companied by hundreds of thousands of cartridges, all for sale at ridiculously low prices. There they lie; the big fires devoured many thousand rounds, much to the consternation of bystanders ; and there they are likely to remain, for there never was a min- ing camp where firearms were so utterly useless. The four letters at the heading of this article were unknown to the cheecharkos (new comers) who imagined that they were coming to a land where might was right and the gun would be useful as a "bluff."
Never was there a more peaceable community than Dawson can boast of.
N. W. M. P. 51
This is greatly due to the North- West Mounted Police, a fine body of men whom all nationalities respect; from Colonel Steel down to the humble private there is not a man who shirks his arduous duty. Highly do the Dawsonites appreciate the services of these brave fellows, though they are somewhat puzzled to understand why men can volun- teer for duty in a land so far from civilization, with no chance now of acquiring a foot of mining property, where strict military discipline is rigor- ously maintained and most severe punishment in- flicted for offences apparently trivial in the eyes of civilians.
These men are stalwart sons of the British nation, imbued with John Bull's characteristics, exhibiting in a remarkable degree doggedness of determination, bravery, indomitable perseverance, and an almost blind obedience to duty, and, though usually stern and abrupt, yet men with hearts full of sympathy for any one in actual distress.
They are noted for their strict impartiality, moral- ity, bright and soldierly appearance, and their con- tempt for bribery or corruption.
In the barrack room, off duty, he is as full of fun as a Jack Tar and as much imbued with an esprit de corps as any graduate of a crack University.
During the winter of 'gS-'gc), these men proved themselves giants of endurance on the trail, when they earned the gratitude of thousands by tKeir
52 Smiles and Tears
plucky journeys with mail over the six hundred miles of ice and snow which separated Dawson from the "outside." They often travelled fifty miles a day in a temperature from 40° to 50° below zero, and sometimes rescued the mailbags from the river at the risk of their own lives.
With all their fine physique, I am sorry to say there is a modest little plot of ground over the hill at the back of Dawson, which comrades will recall with moistened eyes, and where too often have been heard the three sharp volleys and the last bugle calls which honor the obsequies of a soldier who has died in harness.
Feeling greatly interested in these men, soon after arriving in Dawson, I took some interest in noticing how untiringly they performed their multifarious duties. I wonder what some of our home police would think if they were told off to carry out the fol- lowing orders ! And how many Hindoos would be required, where it is an insult to one of these dusky warriors to suggest that he should combine two offices in one!
In a conversation one day at the barracks with a popular officer, he did not surprise me by saying that to be an efficient member of the N. W. M. P., a man must play many parts.
He must be at various times a tinsmith, baker, sad- dler, provost, herder, stoker, dog driver, trail maker, soldier, cavalryman, harness maker, mail carrier,
N. W. M. P. 53
postmaster, carpenter, house builder, painter, gar- dener, woodsman, hunter, cook, laundryman, tailor, water carrier, fireman, boat builder, blacksmith, fisherman, wagoner, magistrate, boxer, coroner, hangman, grave digger, dog catcher, doctor, cus- toms officer, convoy, arbitrator, marksman, swords- man, clerk, sanitary inspector, mining recorder, royalty collector — I do not know how much further, my friend would have gone, for just then we were in- terrupted by a visitor who called to remind him that he, as sheriff, was wanted to make out the necessary orders to an auctioneer for the sale of a mongrel lot of vagrant dogs which had been tied up in the bar- rack yard for several days and nights, and by their most hideous wailings and total disregard for the feelings of men who had to find time, however diffi- cult, in which to seek well-earned repose, had kept the police in a state bordering on sweardom.
"Something attempted — something done — Has earned a night's repose"
Truly, the lines may be applied to the men of the N. W. M. P.
This article cannot be concluded without draw- ing attention to the many acts of bravery performed by these quasi cavalrymen.
The records show how many a man has nobly died rescuing a wounded comrade from Indians, who
54 Smiles and Tears
cruelly mutilate the unhappy victims who fall into their clutches; many have met death while coolly taking, single-handed, a prisoner from amongst a hostile tribe; others have perished during storms while on duty on the trackless wilds; and while many an act could be quoted as richly deserving the Victoria Cross, it is a fact that the powers that be have declined to grant medals to men who have fought with bravery surpassed by none recited either in ancient or modern history.
The whole force is governed from Regina as a regiment of regulars is from the War Office, and the discipline is just as severe as that obtaining in any favorite regiment.
Then their horses! Those who have seen them have been struck with their beauty, their fleetness and their intelligence; the men are justly proud of them and can follow any single horse's history by referring to the elaborately kept records of each horse's biography.
Next to the commissioned officers in Dawson the greatest favorite with the force and the citizens is Sergt. Major Tucker, a man who has seen much service and who is the very essence of "a soldier and a man."
It is because the government has sent such as these to Dawson that the town is to-day one of the quietest and best governed communities in the whole world.
She Is Dead
ALICE ROLLINS CRANE
She Is Dead
ALICE ROLLINS CRANE
HIGH above the Richardson home, a high, dark mountain rose threateningly. Its shadow lay over all the little city of Daw- son, for this ominous looking gigantic wall which nature had formed extended from north to south along the whole of the eastern outskirts of that strange, far-off mining camp. It seemed to hang over the cabins like a cloud on most days, while directly opposite, across the fretful Yukon river, stood a little hamlet where the more fortunate in- habitants could see the cheery face of the sun while their neighbors were in gloom.
Fever and scurvy were in the air, threatening to take possession of all sorts and conditions of men. They might be walking along the rough streets to- day and to-morrow be raving with delirium, many of them uncared for and left to die. The shadows of approaching trouble showed in each suffering, anxious human eye and all men spoke fearfully of death.
The dwelling houses in Dawson were mostly rude log cabins, rising hardly high enough to cast a
58 Smiles and Tears
shadow ; they were mere shelters from a biting and aggressive cold. No one seemed to build one of these cabins as a permanent residence, only to use like birds use their nests, as a place of refuge to be soon deserted. When you entered one of them it necessitated a stooping posture, for if one did not bend almost double his head would suffer severely. When inside, nothing could be seen without a candle or lamp during the greater part of the year, partly owing to the gloomy shadow cast by the above-men- tioned mountain, partly because of the scarcity of glass and its enormous price. Many an honest miner had to make use of bottles for windows, though the well-to-do might afford a single pane measuring about two feet square.
Fever and famine hung forebodingly over the camp.
It was on a sharp cold day with the thermometer standing at forty below zero that I chanced to be passing one of these dreary looking cabins, situated rather more in the mountain's shadow than most others. I stooped to tie my moosehide laces round the moccasins I was wearing, for they had become loose and annoyed me by dangling round my feet in the deep dry snow. I was about to proceed on my way when from the above-mentioned cabin a voice attracted my attention, causing me to turn my head quickly and look back over the dozen or so yards I had travelled past the low door. Just outside it
She Is Dead 59
was standing a man, or, rather, a boy. His tall, lean figure and smooth boyish face seemed familiar to me; his lips were trembling, his downcast blue eyes were full of sorrow, and his form betrayed a dejection so great, that without further comment I retraced my steps to where he stood.
"I beg pardon ?" said I politely, and with marked sympathy in my voice.
"Might I ask," said he in a half bashful tone, tinged with sorrow, "if you are an American woman ?"
"Yes, I am," I answered.
His pale face lighted up perceptibly as he appeared to recognize me as having given him some little as- sistance while on the trail, for he said hesitatingly, while tears trembled on his dark lashes :
"I thought you would not mind doing me a kind- ness, for ladies are few in this country and I am in great trouble. I want you, please, to come inside \, for a few minutes. Oh, I need your help so much !"
I saw the poor young fellow was heart-broken as-' he motioned me to follow him. This I had already begun to do, declaring my desire to alleviate his dis- tress in any way in my power. I followed him into the dimly lighted room ; it was furnished in the most meager fashion ; the roughly-boarded floor made of hewn logs had a cold hard look, so had even the rusty Yukon stove in the further corner.
As I passed further into the cabin, and my eyes
60 Smiles and Tears
became accustomed to the gloom I was lost in as- tonishment. While his hand pointed like that of a spectre to the low bed before us my gaze followed its direction and I beheld, stretched out with white face, a girlish form. Then suddenly he found his voice and sobbingly said :
"She is dead ! My wife — my baby !"
With a heart overflowing with wondering pity at his words I looked at him again, then at the white, silent, little woman, so cold and peaceful on the bed. At that moment I heard the faint, plaintive cry of a child from somewhere near. Surely it was a baby's cry. I rubbed my eyes and looked and looked again.
Yes ! there it was, a wee, new little mite lying on its dead mother's breast, one of whose arms was placed protectingly round its swaddled body. The boy husband stood silently by, waiting for me to re- cover from my astonishment and speak. His hope- less, helpless silence was more impressive than if he had cried loudly in his agony. He watched tHe gen- uine pain which possessed my face as I said shortly :
"I understand."
He did not reply, but softly approached the bed and settled his gaze on the peaceful face of the beau- tiful dead with intense affection ; then, with my mind made up, I hastened to the soft roll of clothes and took the wailing little orphan from the unresponsive breast of the mother.
"Will it trouble you too much?" murmured the
V
She Is Dead 61
grief-stricken father, motioning toward the strug- gling, crying little mite of humanity as he watched me take it in my arms.
"Not at all," I said, "I am glad you called me in, my friend; I will stay and do all I can for you in your great trouble."
"Oh, indeed, Madam, I feel so grateful. We are Americans who came like lots of others over the trail last summer. She — " here he was interrupted by a choking sob — "was my bride then. Oh, my dar- ling and I were so hopeful when we started on our wedding day from our happy homes ; how happy we were even while struggling along that dreadful trail to Dawson !
"I did not do right to bring her out here ; it was far too rough for her. Oh, my poor wife, forgive me ! I did not stay to think how wrong it was. She was so brave and true, too, in all our trials, and now — she is dead. Dead!"
The boy's frame was convulsed with sobs ; he had some one now to whom he could tell his troubles and his heart gradually softened. I made him com- prehend that I knew and understood his feelings, for I, too, had lost dear ones in death. Then I began to comfort and encourage him, gradually rallying him and impressing upon his mind that he still had his poor helpless babe to live and work for. When awakened to the responsibility he must assume, he grew more composed and thoughtful, gazing calmly
62 Smiles and Tears
at the white face and seeming to long for another look from those soft brown eyes now closed forever.
Then, as I held the child up to him, he pressed his lips reverently on its little rosy mouth and, for the first time, a soft, happy smile passed across his face as he realized that his child lived and he must do his duty by it.
Through all his suffering and anguish its presence brought back to him new life and strength.
Some hours afterward the undertaker came and placed the frail body ir; a hastily made common coffin covered with white cloth; then John Richardson knelt at the side and prayed long and fervently, ask- ing God to spare him for his child's sake — who would remind him of the mother in years to come. Then he fervently kissed the dead lips as his lone heart beat heavily above the coffin of the loved dead.
All night long he sat watching and praying by the casket that held what had been so dear to him, and he thought how different things might have been had they only had sympathetic neighbors during his poor wife's dangerous illness.
The wind moaned as it came down the chimney, still he neither moved nor raised his head. The crying of the child did not rouse him, nor the coming and going of the neighbors, who with silent tread and tender words offered any little assistance. It was now too late.
His Heart seemed with the dead.
She Is Dead 63
In the morning a little flock of sympathetic miners came and followed in respectful procession the bride of one short year to the hill-side cemetery. There a grave had been burnt out of the everlastingly frozen ground and there she was laid to rest.
I stayed with the baby and prayed that strength might be given from above for the poor, lone, sor- rowing father. He came back unaccompanied, though several had offered from various motives to take charge of the baby. He had answered, "No, I must keep Bessie's child and love her as I do the mother."
As he said this he would glance at me. After they had all left he came to my side and taking up the child hugged it to his breast; and the babe, seem- ing to know who held it, ceased fretting and went into a sweet sleep.
"Take her and keep her for me," he said, "until I can get back to our home in the States. I will work for her support. Be her mother, I beg, till then, and if I cannot reward you God will. It is such a weak little thing. Bessie, you see, had been failing like a blighted flower for the last few months, yet she put up with all the fearful hardships we had to endure without a murmur. She had no one to notice it or to comfort her but me. All seem so heartless and cold here. It is always gold! gold! gold! they talk about. They seem to have no sympathy for such as we, but you will tend and care for the little
64 Smiles and Tears
one, won't you? And be patient with her, please, I implore you."
As he said this, he grew white with anticipation, for I had not spoken. Not because I did not intend even before being asked, to take the little orphan, but because my heart was too full just then to prop- erly control myself to answer calmly.
"It was my intention all the time to ask you for even if you had not requested me to take her, the little darling," said I, kissing her little rosy lips, for it was long since I had an opportunity of handling a baby, and it seemed to soften and soothe me, too, after all the hardships endured during the past nine months.
"Thank you and God bless you," answered the helpless boy, with much fervor.
"We can all spare something for the sake of others in trouble, my man," I said. "Do not fear for the baby. When you are ready to take her to your friends, if God spares her precious life, you shall find her ready for you. Come along home with me and the baby, for I will care for you also while you are preparing to leave the country."
A Dawson Magdalene
ALICE ROLLINS CRANE
A Dawson Magdalene
ALICE ROLLINS CRANE
YES! it was only a dream. Instead of her head resting on a loving bosom she awoke to find it pillowed on thorns, and it was hard to bear such suffering without a moan.
In her thin, almost transparent hands she clasped a little bible ; perhaps scoffers might say it was child- ish.
"I wonder where real things end and dreams be- gin ?" murmured the poor girl, as she lay on her nar- row bed, her pale, drawn face, bright, feverish eyes and parched lips drawn with incessant pain after each hard spell of coughing which racked her ema- ciated body.
"Oh, how long the time seems !" she murmured ; then she folded her poor hands again over the book and struggled through a "Hail Mary, Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for me a sinner, now and at the hour of my death. Amen."
Just then a rap was heard at the door, and in response to the faint "Come!" of the sufferer a stalwart man stepped toward the bed of the poor
68 Smiles and Tears
half delirious girl. She looked up at her visitor with wide, staring eyes. The fresh color which should have suffused her young face was not there, the innocent face of a pure life was gone. But its deeper expression of care and suffering, sin, and re- pentance, even in that little room on "Second street" in wicked Dawson, was suggestive of holy things.
The visitor stood gazing down into her eyes. His was a well built, manly figure; world worn by the almost constant struggle of fifty years, with a look of ugly determination, but withal a sympathetic, kindly face — the face of a man who has passed far- ther beyond life's harder barriers than most men ever even reach.
The girl dropped the little bible from her pale fin- gers and her hand trembled as she raised it im- ploringly toward him. He took it between his own warm palms and gently chafed it with a soft and soothing stroke like that of a tender mother. His eyes spoke the words all too plainly that he could not bring his lips to utter.
"Poor girl, you have been your own deadly enemy, your own destroyer," he thought, but hesitated be- fore adding aloud :
"What is the matter, Bell; have you been sick long?"
"Yes, two weeks," she answered feebly, her lips trembling and big tear drops suddenly rising to her eyes.
A Dawson Magdalene 69
The big man with the stern, bearded face looked at her pityingly; his voice was almost as soft as a nun's at a death bed.
She only knew him by sight; he was the manli- est of the men in the Klondyke, the man whose word was law. He had neither spoken to her, nor even looked at her, nor bestowed a single thought upon her after her name had been put before him as one of the vilest culprits of the demi monde, who had been at the bar of justice only a few weeks since. She remembered standing there with brazen face, dressed in gaudy attire, laughing and jesting coarsely as she and her painted sisters passed his office door to and from the court room, and to her mind he was the last man on earth to whom a poor, sick, forsaken, almost despised creature would have a thought of appealing in time of distress. He was the last man who would help her to commit an act of folly or a crime and was perfectly justified to assume a moral superiority if he had so desired, but he was too unassuming to ever even think himself superior to his fellow men.
The girl paused after carefully wiping away the unbidden tears, as though she wished him to speak. She reverently passed her fingers over the binding of the little closed bible which still lay on her bosom; so, thinking that she would like him to read to her from its pages, he pointed to it and said :
"Shall I?"
Then he took up the book and quickly began turn-
70 Smiles and Tears
ing the yellow leaves without waiting for a reply. But the big Scotchman was by no means prepared for the objection that was to follow.
"You are not a priest, you are "
"Never mind that now," he said, smiling pleas- antly; but he was evidently a little embarrassed for once in his life, for he looked at the ceiling, took off his glasses, and after wiping them with an immacu- late silk handkerchief, adjusted them slowly again.
This would-be reader of the holy book did not even attend church. Time was when he had at- tended regularly, three times on Sunday and the same number of times during the week, but that was long ago, away back in Scotland, while by his side walked with modest dignity a rosy cheeked, pure young girl, his sister, whom he loved as his life.
Since those days he had had a wide and varied ex- perience; he was qualified to draw a tolerably ac- curate difference between this young girl's reputa- tion and position and that of the young lass shel- tered and cared for by a Christian mother. He had heard that some of these unfortunate women had kind and sympathetic hearts and had performed many acts of charity. Yet, for all that, he dared not read the word of God to the girl about to leave the world, as he surmised. He paused and looked into the big blue eyes which were trying to read his thoughts.
Slowly the tears trickled down his cheeks as He
A Dawson Magdalene 71
thought how much this poor, dying creature re- minded him of his own loved sister. He shuddered when the thought flashed through his mind that she, too, might have taken this dreadful journey to this cold region, but that was impossible.
He thought of going for a minister whom he well knew, a slightly built, nervous looking, but energetic little man of the English Church. Should he go and fetch him? Would he come? He must come! He shut his lips firmly together for a moment while the wondering, questioning eyes of the girl looked earnestly into his face as he asked :
"Shall I get a minister? It would be best."
"Oh, yes, sir, please do," she said eagerly, a bright spot burning on either pale cheek, while she con- vulsively clasped the little bible again lovingly to her breast.
He did not know she was a Roman Catholic, nor did she tell him. He lost no time in questioning her, but acted in his usual prompt way, so that within a quarter of an hour he came abruptly upon the pas- tor for whom he was searching.
He was seated in front of his log cabin, which he had built with his own hands though often called away to visit the sick and dying. He was just now talking with several stalwart frontiersmen in an earnest manner over some subject which was evi- dently of importance to all of them.
When his visit was explained, the Rev. B
72 Smiles and Tears
gladly made preparations to accompany him. As they were leaving together the group of men burst out laughing, and when one of them made a coarse jest the big man turned and said, in his usual calm, determined voice:
"Yes, this is the notorious woman whom you men- tion. Yet she is a woman, the same as your sisters or mothers, only her fate has not been kind. As she is dying why should she not be cared for ? Her dark secret is found out. Perhaps if your lives and mine were laid bare we should not be so ready to criticise others. The first duty of a critic is to be consistent with himself. Good morning !"
He said this rather bitterly as he turned to re- join his companion. The pastor was already on his way to the little gaudily furnished, red-curtained cabin which he had often passed by before, never dreaming that he should for a moment bestow on it or its occupant a single thought. But now his keen ear had caught the sound of that pitiful moan of the unfortunate girl within, who unconsciously in her intense agony of soul had cried out. He had heard only part of her prayer and felt instinctively that help was needed.
The Scotchman's face wore even a more thought- ful expression than usual as he walked back to his office, not noticing the many salutations of the men on the street, who all seemed in a hurry.
He heard through the minister daily of the con-
A Dawson Magdalene 73
dition of tHe soul-sick penitent, and out of his own limited resources provided little bodily comforts for her of which nobody ever knew.
One day, while walking along thinking of his own multifarious duties, he was suddenly aware of a not unusual sight in that town — a procession con- sisting of a minister and four rough looking fellows bearing a plain coffin — threading its way through the dirty streets. A shudder passed through his strong frame as he recognized his good friend and the pitiful little group of men and women who had been neighbors to the poor, unfortunate occupant of the red-curtained cabin.
"Poor child !" he thought, "I'm glad I heard her pray."
Then, quickly passing to the minister and pressing something into the good man's hand, the big govern- ment official retraced his steps down the street.
"It must have been a hundred dollars," said John to his companion, as they walked down the steep hill side from the cemetery to the shore of the Yukon to haul in their fish nets.
One of the Many
ELLA CUNNINGHAM
One of the Many
ELLA CUNNINGHAM
HE WAS from "Arizony" and his face wore a patient, resigned look, as though fate could have nothing worse in store for him than had already befallen him. He drifted into our cabin one bitterly cold day in January and, as is usual in the Klondyke with people when they meet for the first time, we soon began to exchange our experiences on the trail. We presently entirely forgot our own experiences and became absorbed in the brilliant tale he told us.
"We had bad luck right at the start out," he said : "Took us twenty-two days from San Francisco to Port Angeles. Shipped in an old tub that wouldn't stan' nawthin', an' turrible storms come up, when we thought every minute would be our last. When we got to Port Angeles, the passengers all left the boat an' we tried to get 'em to put off our outfit, but they wouldn't do it — said we had shipped to Skaguay an' they was goin' to carry 'em to Skaguay. So we all went over to Seattle on another boat an' bought new outfits there. Thought if we ever got our first
78 Smiles and Tears
outfits they'd come in handy, anyhow. But we didn't never git 'em; they condemned the boat, or something, so she never got out of Port Angeles, an' our outfits is all thar yit, fer all I know. Hain't never seen nawthin' of 'em sence. Wall, we shipped frum Seattle on the Whitelow "
"Ah!" we involuntarily ejaculated.
"Yes," he said, "she burnt down to the water's edge at Skaguay, before we could git our new out- fits unloaded, an* thar we was, agin. We went over to Dyea an' bought up some stuff, me an' th' old woman, an' tried keepin' a restaurant thar, but we lost money on it. Then we moved over to Long Lake an' started a restaurant thar, but we lost money on it right along. Lost money on everything we tried," he added, plaintively.
"Then we moved down to Linderman an' I sent back to 'Frisco fer more money. When I got that I kep' buyin' up stuff an' buyin' up stuff, thinkin' I was never goin' to git a chance to git any more. When we got ready to start we had a big scow, with a big outfit an' two horses an' the dogs in it, an' I hired men to help us down the river. We got down the lakes pretty well, an' when we got to the Canyon I begun to look 'round 'mong the pilots to git my. scow tuk through.
"Eyery one of 'em wanted fifty dollars — wouldn't take us through fer nawthin' less. While we was lookin' 'rounfl, I see men come up an' ontie thar
One of the Many 79
boats an' light out; an' I says to Otto — the man I had hired to steer my boat — 'Here's men lightin' out an' takin' thar own boats through.'
"Otto 'lowed he thought we could, too, so we tuk the horses out, an' the dogs, an' sent them an' th' old woman down to the foot of the Canyon ; an' Otto an' me an' the men in the boat, we lit out. I was in the bow, an' when we got about half way through the first part of the Canyon my steering sweep broke."
"What did you do?" we gasped, breathlessly.
"Wall, Otto he yelled fer me to 'Rew! rew!' (He was a furiner, you know, an' he said 'rew' fer 'row') he explained, parenthetically, "but I couldn't 'rew !' nor do nawthin' without no sweep, so Otto he jist tuk the boat through somehow, 'til we got to the eddy an' thar we went in an' tied up."
"Tied up in the eddy !" we exclaimed, in concert.
"Yes, tied up to them rocks thar," he answered.
"But I don't see how you could," I persisted.
"Wall, we jist had to," he returned ; and of course there was no use arguing further against such con- vincing logic as that.
"One o' the men went back an' got a new sweep," he continued, "an' we started out through the second part of the Canyon. Jist as we got about half way through that, durned if Otto didn't break his sweep, too, an' thar we was. An' he was the sternman, too ! Wall, the scow jist went on through herself, an' when we got out of the Canyon an' went to land her
8o Smiles and Tears
we jist put her on top of a big, flat rock, an' thar she stuck an' we couldn't push her off, noway. Th' old woman was down thar with the dogs an' horses, so we jist waded back an' forth an' carried the camp things to shore, an' camped right thar that night.
"The mosquitoes et us awful," he added, sadly, as an afterthought.
"In the mornin' we tuk off a thousand pounds of the stuff an' that lightened the scow some, an' then we got out the block an' tackle, an' some of the men stan'in' round helped us git her off the rock. Then I says to the boys, says I, 'Boys, I've had enough. Ef you want to try her through White Horse try her, but I hain't agoin' to go through/
"Wall, the boys 'lowed they could go through, so away they went, an' they did go through an' scraped on the rocks some, but didn't hurt her any. Me an' the old woman we loaded the thousand pounds onto the horses an' packed it down to the foot of White Horse; an' thar we loaded up the scow agin an' lit out.
"We had a pretty hard time of it in Thirty Mile," he said, musingly; and we sat in silence, for we knew the vision of that dreadful ride was passing through his mind, "but we didn't lose nawthin' thar.
"Kep* comin' on down an' one day, when we got below Five Fingers, one o* the horses jumped out into the river."
One of the Many 81
"What in the world did you do ?" we again inter- rogated excitedly.
"Jist got to shore as quick as we could, an' the horse swam along after the scow, an' we loaded him in again an' went on," he said, mildly, as though there was but one thing to be done, and they were in the habit of doing that regularly.
"When we got down here an' found out how things was goin' we didn't have much hopes of gitin' any claims," he contiuued; "so I went to work on one o' the cricks an' th' old woman she keeps a boardin' house thar, an' we have done pretty well — or shall, if we git our pay," he added.
"Didn't you take out good pay, this winter?" I ventured.
"Yes, we tuk out good dump all right 'nuff," he answered, "but t'other day a woman come out thar an' told the owner to quit workin', fer he was on her ground. She has had him stopped by law," he went on, "so none of us are workin' now, an' we don't know how it will be about pay."
"But, surely, the law here gives the workingman his wages first, as in our country," we suggested.
"Don't know nawthin' 't all 'bout that," he said, with an ominous shake of his head, and it was evi- dent he feared the worst.
The last we heard of him we read in a Dawson paper, that as he was riding a horse along Domin-
82 Smiles and Tears
ion cre^.k the ground suddenly gave way, and horse and rider were rolled down the steep bank some eight feet into the water.
So it is evident that the demon of ill luck is still pursuing him.
A Miner Poet
ANONYMOUS
A Miner Poet
ANONYMOUS
THE following verses were found written on a tree, the bark having been carefully stripped and a smooth surface prepared. Like many other such productions which have been discovered in the Klondyke, they were evidently the work of a miner who had been resting there after a fruitless tramp in search for the gold he never found. The doggerel, which is given verbatim, was illus- trated with more than ordinary ability.
This is a pan of glittering gold
From the Klondyke river, swift and cold,
Found by a northern miner bold,
And by him to a steamboat owner sold.
This is the steamboat owner sly Who wanted his boats to the North to ply, "And tried to buy over the honest P. I., Then put his rates up ever so high.
86 Smiles and Tears
This is the editor, false and cute, Who said it was proved beyond dispute, By evidence clear, which none could refute, That the best way in was "the poor man's route.
This is the poor man, innocent fool, Who never went to a lying school, And did not know that he was the tool Of heartless slanders false and cruel.
This is the grave that the poor man filled, After he'd taken a fever and chill'd; Contracted while climbing the Stickeen hills, Leaving his wife to settle his bills.
This is the place where those fellers will go Who fooled the innocent miner so — Robbing him of his hard earned dou'gh 'And giving him only ice and snow.
A Tale of Tails
'LORD OVERALLS"
A Tale of Tails
"LORD OVERALLS "
THREE years ago, when there were only half a dozen cabins in Dawson, the camp was struck by a cold spell that promised to freeze the blood in the toughest of Indians. The air was so cold that it fairly snapped, so silent that, had anyone been foolish enough to squander one in so ridiculous an experiment, you might have heard a pin drop anywhere within a radius of a mile.
The cold, of course, was not confined alone to Dawson, but extended along the crystal floored river north and south, taking in Circle City, where a hun- dred or so of us shivered together and spat discon- solately at stoves that gave forth no heat.
When the news of the strike on Klondyke was made I took the fever as bad as anybody and de- termined to go there over the ice and stake a claim. Things were slow in Circle City anyway and there was always a chance of starvation dropping in to visit us, so I pulled out.
I had five lively Malamute dogs, the same ones you see curled up in the snow there, and so I loaded
9O Smiles and Tears
a light sled with a tent, provisions sufficient for four days, a small stove, blankets, an extra pair of mitts and moccasins, and, hooping to the dogs, started off.
I started about five o'clock in the morning. The moon was still high in the sky; the stars clustered brilliantly about her and the north light swung a white veil around them as though they were brides awaiting admission to heaven.
There was a fair trail along the river, although a city man might have sworn no little before he gave in at the completion of the first half mile. We made good time and when it was grub time, I made camp, built a fire and had a cup of hot coffee, bread and bacon and a pipeful of tobacco. Then I gave the Malamutes a biscuit each, broke camp and went on again. At nightfall these operations were repeated ; my little tent soon provided a shelter from the wind, the stove made it warm, and after eating as hearty a meal as I could make off simple fare and feeding the dogs until they rolled over and fell asleep, I turned into my blankets and was oblivious of everything un- til five o'clock again.
The second day out, 'however, a snow storm blew up. It lasted for several hours and the trail became so soft with wet snow that I could progress along it only with difficulty. We struggled on bravely, the dogs settling down to the work like four-footed heroes, their heads within a few inches of the snow, their tails as rigid as the mast of a laboring ship.
A Tale of Tails 91
Every little while we had to rest; by degrees our provisions began to run short, and finally, when we were yet but a little way on our journey, there was nothing left to cook except the bags that had con- tained our food. Hour after hour I chewed the cud of reflection, but the poor dogs were at a disadvan- tage. Being Eskimo dogs their education had been sadly overlooked and, by the pleading look in their green eyes I saw how hungry they were and how they looked to me to provide them with something to eat.
One after another they began to soldier in the traces and it soon became apparent that unless their jaws were soon set in motion their little legs would also have to go "on strike."
For hours I pondered over the problem. I Had heard of boiled moccasins, but fried ditto might not be as tempting ; and even canvas bags, without a fair proportion of bacon grease sauce, could hardly be nutritious.
At last an idea struck me. I made camp, lit a fire, and, as soon as the dogs were assured that it was to be a "bluff" dinner they snarled in chorus at me and immediately fell asleep. Then I sharp- ened my knife and in a twinkling had cut off their beautiful tails, without even awakening them.
I melted snow, put my kettle on the stove, and soon the five tails were bubbling and steaming, emit- ting so fragrant an odor that my mouth began to
92 Smiles and Tears
water and I was in danger of suffocation by freezing down the throat.
When everything was ready I called the dogs by their respective names — Tschu-tschu, Yukon, Swat- ki, Chief, Musha — and as they awoke they looked en- quiringly at one another as though asking: "Is this a dream?"
Without loss of time I fed to each dog its own tail, and the broth was so invigorating that when once they were in the harness again, they pulled me all the way to Dawson without stopping — a matter of over a hundred miles !
After Christmas in the Police Court
WILLIAM GALPIN
After Christmas in the Police Court
WILLIAM GALPIN
WHEN I first arrived in Dawson the police magistrate (an inspector in the N. W. M. P.) held his court in a log cabin opening on the barrack square. Soon it was found necessary to build a court house, and the inspector then tried cases (and there were many every day) in the improved building; that is, it was divided from the judge's court by a thin parti- tion, through which could be heard every word that was uttered by judge, lawyer or witness.
Through this new court room people passed from the street to the judge's court, and beside these two doors there was a staircase which led to a suite of rooms above, in which footsteps sounded provok- ingly loud.
In the room was the usual type of Yukon stove, which occupied about one-third of the floor space; another third was filled by four benches of about eight feet in length, whereon lawyers, witnesses, prisoners and the general public were permitted to arrange themselves at pleasure, and the remaining
96 Smiles and Tears
third was occupied by a small raised platform on which were placed a table and stool for the presid- ing magistrate. On his left was a table for a short- hand writer and a cupboard. The whole room was about ten by twenty-four, so it is not to be won- dered at that the little place was often blocked with people.
But on the morning I visited the court there were only five people present — the genial magistrate, his faithful stenographer, a stalwart policeman, his prisoner and myself.
The constable was sworn and gave his evidence in that calm, straightforward, matter-of-fact style for which the Dawson police are noted. No exag- gerations on his part, no embellishments, no wish- ing to magnify the case against the prisoner and stand before his superior officer as a smart man.
There was nothing in the case which called for comment. The constable told how he had been summoned by the prisoner's boon companions, who had refused to go home with their inebriate part- ner; that he was unable to walk on the slippery roads along the dangerous cliffs that dark night, and insisted on staying out in a temperature of 30 degrees below zero to "keep Christmas." The con- stable had mercifully lodged him in a warm cell, to which he went quietly enough.
Then, as the magistrate asked the prisoner what he had to say for himself my eyes turned toward
After Christmas in Court 97
the ragged little figure which had been standing with bowed head, hat in hand, in front of the raised table.
I altered my position so that I might get a more favorable view of him, and this is what I saw :
A thick-set, diminutive man, dressed in loose fit- ting garments which had evidently once belonged to a man fully a foot taller; the boots were full of holes and many sizes too large; the trousers were wrinkled like the bellows of a concertina; the coat had once served as a frock coat, and had perhaps graced the shoulders of an elegantly dressed man many years before it had lost its shape and color. Around his neck the prisoner wore a huge dirty woolen "comforter," and in lieu of a waistcoat and shirt he wore an ill-fitting brown jersey. His hands were begrimed with dirt; his head was too large for the size of his body and was covered with an extraordinary amount of dirty, black, bushy hair, which stood up in wild confusion and hung over the collar of his coat. His face was the color of his hands and covered almost to the eyes with thick, matted hair. But his nose was the most striking feature of his face ; it was abnormally large and broad around the nostrils, but swept suddenly into the space between the eyes with an inward curve, being devoid of that part of the nose which is so prominent in busts of Napoleon and Welling-
98 Smiles and Tears
ton. THe cheekbones were high and round, the forehead low and prominent.
As he stood there with bowed form, puckered face, hands crossed in front of him, and holding a woolen hat somewhat the shape of a flower-pot, my thoughts conjured up a Siberian prisoner of a low Russian type.
"Have you anything to say?" asked the magis- trate.
Uttering a few rapid words in a guttural voice, the bundle of rags quickly prostrated itself on the floor and abjectly clasped the feet of the magis- trate, at the same time bending down his head and touching the floor with his forehead; then rising quickly the prisoner poured forth a torrent of words accompanied by actions which plainly said, "Have mercy on me; it was Christmas, and I admit being somewhat unsteady."
"Have you anything to say?" repeated the mag- istrate sternly.
I thought the man had a good deal to say.
Down again dropped the groveling prisoner at the feet of the officer.
"Make him get up, constable."
The constable took hold of his arm and made him rise to his feet.
"Forty dollars or seven days."
The constable explained, and soon a long, 'dirty buckskin gold poke was produced, and though the
After Christmas in Court 99
court does not openly recognize "dust" as money the prisoner somehow paid his fine and seemed grat- ified to think he could escape with his life.
The fines for drunkenness, gambling, etc., at Dawson during 1898 amounted to about $50,000.
"Only One More'
ALICE ROLLINS CRANE
"Only One More"
ALICE ROLLINS CRANE
ONE short year ago we lived in a pleasant little home among birds and flowers in sun-kissed California. Even there we be- gan to hear the faint howls of the dis- tant wolf, poverty. It seemed a very long way off then, though it often caused a shudder as the sound became more audible. We were not even "fairly well off." We were poor, but he — my darling hus- band, now so cold and white yonder — was proud, hopeful and always cheery under the hardest trials.
Here as well as there the rich have the Argus eye, which never closes, to see every opportunity, so it seems there is nothing for the struggling poor to do but to die.
Oh, my husband ! are you at rest forever, or only sleeping ? Does the fear of poverty still haunt you ?
The little money we earned soon took wings after our child's long and serious illness, followed alas! by death — the only friend of which the poor can boast, and yet dreaded so much ! Kind, lovely, death! Trouble, privation, unkindness and disap- pointment are no longer felt when with Thee!
iO4 Smiles and Tears
After baby's death we gathered together our lit- tle all and drifted like thousands of others to this far-off "land of gold," willing to turn our hands to anything; not doubting, after reading and hear- ing the glowing accounts from the Klondyke, that work could be had in plenty.
But what did we find! Thousands of others in the same condition as ourselves.
Month after month, week after week, day after day, my darling, so brave, so constant, would search for work, tramping over rugged and steep moun- tains, up canyons, creeks and gulches, with his heavy burden of food and blankets, sufficient merely to keep life and warmth in his dear body.
At first he would return hopeful and even enthu- siastic. Then there was a struggle to keep up a semblance of courage, and finally his step grew slower, his eyes sadder, his face troubled and care- worn, with deep lines settling on his brow.
No matter how early he started from home on these occasions scores of hardy pioneers would be there before him, most of them as needy as him- self.
The claim — his goal — was either staked al ready 5 or someone else had applied for it when he arrived at the recorder's office, and every position was taken ere he could obtain it.
How often he and I sat in our dimly lighted cabin, desolate, talking of disappointments caused by the
"Only One More" 105
wicked lies sent out to our quiet little home by the rich monopolist or the callous steamship companies, and wondering if these differences would exist after death.
AVe grew so hopeless that we even began to lose faith in a hereafter.
Oh, how I wish I could only put my thoughts and feelings into adequate words! Then I would cry out in such earnest tones as would cause those outside to give the lie to the falsifiers who wilfully deceive the poor ; who draw them here to starve and die, instead of to pick up gold from the roots of the moss and on the trails, as is reported !
My darling lying there so white, so cold, used to smile; his eyes would sparkle as he read these mar- vellous accounts day after day, whilst I listened, and to both our ears it was sweet music.
It all seems now like an awful dream — this ever- lasting struggle, this worry night and day to keep the flame of life flickering while trudging wearily over the rough trail. After our arrival here came the consciousness of being helplessly shut out from every chance for life, for when once here and money gone there is an awful feeling of helplessness which cannot be shaken off.
I shall never forget his face the day he decided to start for the Klondyke ! With eyes beaming with hope he declared in his old, happy way that surely no other place in America, or in the world, could
io6 Smiles and Tears
be found so encouraging. As we had sufficient to take us there, he thought we could not help but succeed.
So we decided to go, but, pitiful Heaven! Mo- nopoly and Starvation were even more surely on our track than in America. We found the auto- crats even here, and Favoritism as much at home on the snow fields as it was in our own fair country. The poor lay dying everywhere, and it was only the rich who could procure comfort.
Last night, as I sat by his hard bed shivering with cold, weak with hunger and broken down with con- stant worry, he said :
"Lie down, my darling, by my side. I shall rest now."
"No, dear," I answered. "I must watch, and I shall only disturb you."
After that he was soon still; his heavy eyes drooped and closed.
All night I crouched on the floor, watching my poor darling, till such a feeling of utter loneliness crept over me that I was constrained to approach the single window pane and gaze out on the fretful, ever moving, mighty Yukon river. Then my eyes were drawn upwards to the clear, blue, cold sky in which the brilliant stars glittered with unusual lus- tre, so infinite in distance.
Still no sound broke the oppressive silence of the room, when suddenly I was awakened from my
"Only One More" 107
trance by the sharp, clear notes of a bugle across the river, and by the sweet tones of the cathedral bell heralding the approach of day, and soon people began to pass, chatting about their various pursuits as they hurried past my cabin.
Suddenly I turned toward my husband's lonely bed. There he lay, his dear face full of peace and unspeakable calm. On it rested a triumphant smile which parted his lips. Yes ! he had gone where the fear and disappointments of this life could not reach him.
I did not cry out, nor was I disturbed by the sounds outside. Seating myself by his side to think, I tried to share in his rest, and then out of my aching heart I prayed, "My Lord, my dear Savior! I need Thy help!" Then, kissing those silent lips, which, though so rigid, seemed to re- spond, I took his thin, closed hand in mine and con- tinued my heartfelt prayer : "Should your spirit live, watch over me. Tell the blessed Savior, who, we have been told, makes all things right, your story. Tell Him how the gold in the Klondyke turned to ashes. Tell Him I am alone and waiting. Tell Him I want to be called soon !"
Hush! Silence! Did my darling husband's lips move? Did I hear a voice? No, no! It was only a fancy. He was silent forever, and I — I was alone !
A Klondyker in Seattle
A. F. GEORGE
A Klondyker in Seattle
A. F. GEORGE
D'AWSON can boast of three newspapers: The Sun, Government organ; the Daily News, the latest arrival, and the Nugget, the pioneer paper, which is essentially the miners' pa- per, and has from the first issue waged uncompromis- ing war against the representatives of the Canadian Government in Dawson.
It is always on the qui vive for any signs of "grafts," and regardless of all consequences it cham- pions what it believes to be the miners' rights. It has sometimes overstepped the bounds of that wide freedom which is allowed the press on British soil, but notwithstanding its sensationalism and often greatly exaggerated statements it is a paper that vastly influences the hardy miners in their opinions of Yukon matters.
The editor, an Englishman, has taken a very prominent position in Dawson affairs, and has a scathing pen when he takes it into his head to "roast" some one who has incurred his displeasure.
Lately he has visited the "outside," but like many
H2 Smiles and Tears
others he had a strange longing to return to the frozen metropolis of the North- West, and has given me the following lines for publication in this little book, expressive of his feelings :
On the burning streets of 'Frisco, on Seattle's redhot paves,
'Mid the solemn-visage d multitude of shop and fac- tory slaves,
In the rush and roar of cities, in hotel or on the street,
You will find a Klondyke victim in each stranger that you meet.
Oh, there's been a mighty exodus of diggers, men
of brawn,
To this land of tribulation, by sharpers to be shorn; And of every luxury on earth we each have had a
fill, For we're given a Christian welcome if we only foot
the bill.
And we've seen the big white elephant (all 'Frisco
could have shown} And against Seattle's slot machines our good dust
we have blown;
A Klondyker in Seattle 113
Oh, we've been in old Bohemia, and we've even been to church,
But we've, every man and woman, missed the ob- ject of our search.
Like children just let out of school for pleasure we
were bound, And perfect happiness, they said, was corralled on
the Sound; So we loaded up our Gladstone and bou'ght a good,
big sack, And vowed until we'd had our share we never would
go back.
But all things taste like ashes in this land of cheer- less gloom,
And we're saddened, every one of us, like mourn* ers at a tomb;
For the sky's all overclouded and the air's all filled with steam,
And for us there's no enjoyment where the sun- shine cannot gleam.
Oh, we'll hie us back to Dawson, where the air's
like H2O, So full of electricity, you're always on the go';
ii4 Smiles and Tears
Where there ain't no night to hinder "when you're
up against the worst," "Where there ain't no ten commandments and a
man can raise a thirst"
Where the air's like nitrous oxide and a man knows
he's alive, TAnd the hum of busy "skeeters" sounds like bees
within a hive; And the dames are free and easy and the men are
brave and true, 'And are satisfied with ivhisky if they can't get
f(hootchinoo."
Oh, we're going back to Dawson just to hear the
Aurora roar, While we trip the "light fantastic" with the dames
across the floor; Where the girls are captivating and love a merry
jest, rAnd the most inveterate "masher" has endurance
put to test.
Oh, we're going back to Dawson, where it gets so
snapping cold, Where one's power of locomotion comes back as in
days of old;
A Klondyker in Seattle 115
Where at sixty-two or more below by our stoves we
talkee talk, But, once outside, 'good gracious, how we can walkee
ivalk!
Where the planets shine in splendor in marvelous
array, And the sky is white like distant snow with the
Heaven's Milky Way; And the moon in all her glory is so large and cold
and white, That caps are reverently raised in worship at the
sight.
Oh, we must go back to Dawson; kind friends don't keep us here,
For nothing now looks good to us, not even five- cent beer;
The air's so moisture-laden we're stiffening with the mold,
And when it's fifty-two above we're shivering with the cold.
So we must go back to Dawson, where the mighty
Yukon flows — Excepting in the winter, when she dons her winter
clothes;
u6 Smiles and Tears
Where the air is so inspiring, both to action and to thought,
That Dawson's doomed to lasting fame as a winter- time resort.
Our girth is sadly shrinking and our breath takes
jerky pants, For we've seen all our relations — all our sisters,
cousins, aunts, 'And we're feeling very lonesome for the dry and
frosty snow, TAnd all the pleasures that belong to sixty-two below.
So we're 'goingt back to Dawson, where there ain't
no blooming mist, Where day by day and month by month the hills
are sunshine-kissed, Where there's yellow-legged protection "when
you're up against the worst," "Where there ain't no ten commandments and a
man can raise a thirst."
Who Is to Blame
WILLIAM GALPIN
Who Is to Blame
WILLIAM GALPIN
SNOW was falling heavily. The thermometer pointed to a few degrees above zero and the main street in Dawson was already growing forsaken, although it was not more than three o'clock in the afternoon.
No mail had arrived for a month and as I hur- ried away from the post office, dejected and wor-. ried, I felt my hand suddenly grasped, while a voice exclaimed :
"Why, captain, how are you?"
I recognized neither the voice nor the figure at first, until my excited friend explained who he was. Then it was my turn to be moved, and moved I was, and not ashamed to own it either, until my cheeks were wet with tears; for I now recognized the wreck of as fine a man as anybody had ever the priv- ilege of calling friend.
The last time I had seen my friend was when I had parted from him at Calgary in the winter of '97, and it was now the winter of '99, a period of two years. During this time I had been gradually
I2O Smiles and Tears
ascending- the successful ladder of life in Dawson,
but from the appearance of Jack A it had been
with him two years of hard buffetings with mis- fortune.
When we parted at Calgary to reach Dawson by different routes I had tried to persuade Jack to accompany me via Vancouver, Skaguay and Ben- nett; but the accounts he had read of the facilities, the natural advantages and prospective richness of the "Edmonton route" had so strongly convinced him of the superiority of it above all others, that he had quite pitied me as we shook hands at the station and bid each other "God speed."
I half regretted leaving him, for we had travelled from England together and had both set out biased in favor of an "all Canadian route," persuading ourselves by some peculiar process of logic that as Britishers we were in duty bound to go the whole way to Klondyke on Canadian soil and help in our small way to swell the Canadian exchequer !
I had never seen Jack from that day to this. Then he was a tall, handsome fellow of thirty- five. We had been volunteer officers in the same corps and many a time had I admired his well set up figure as together we wended our way to the drill hall. And what a favorite he was with his men, too! Bright, cheery, witty, though a regular mar- tinet on the parade ground!
Could this be the same man whom I had left
Who Is to Blame 121
standing head and shoulders above any otHer pas- sengers on the platform two years ago, now bent with a painful stoop? The squareness was gone from his chest, the trim moustache, now mingling with straggling beard, drooping and dry; the clothes — well, I do not know whether it was the al- tered appearance in the muscular frame or the woebegone aspect of the tattered garments which had brought the tears to my eyes. Perhaps it was both!
Seeing that he was shivering with cold and that his clothes could not resist the biting wind which was beginning to sweep along the banks of the Yu- kon, I asked my old friend to accompany me to my cabin.
"Just come with me first, Will, and then I am at your service. I have promised to take this parcel to a friend of mine staying with me."
He conducted me to one of the cheap ( !) bunk houses in Dawson.
When I say "cheap" I do not mean a five cent doss house or a Salvation Army cot for the same price, but cheap for Dawson, where a dollar goes no further than ten cents on the outside. Cheap, be- cause night after night the bunks are filled with men; too poor to buy a log hut, too weak to obtain work, too thriftless to save, too lazv to earn an honest liv- ing.
Many who occupy these cheap bunks are men
122 Smiles and Tears
who are totally unfitted to live in a mining camp — men who have spent what they brought into the country and who have neither the wish nor the in- clination to work for wages, but, like the placid Micawber, ever "wait for something to turn up."
As we entered the bunks were empty and the habitues were sitting on rough stools round a huge stove placed in the middle of the room, listening to one of their number who was reading aloud some interesting news from a Dawson newspaper.
"Do you see those four men?" said Jack, nod- ding toward a group of dejected looking, shabbily dressed men ranging from twenty-five to thirty-five years of age, sitting somewhat apart from the circle, bending over a map which was lying on a small, rudely made table. "They are the only survivors of a party of twelve who intended to travel to Dawson by the Edmonton route; they picked me up in the McDougal Pass or I should not be here to-day."
I was introduced to the party, two of whom I found were related to friends of mine.
'As I stood looking at them I breathed a prayer of heartfelt thankfulness to the guiding hand which had pointed in another direction when I had thought of taking that fatal route.
Though Jack was shockingly altered in appear- ance, he still retained the same cheery voice and happy smile, but these men were listless, heartbroken and passive.
Who Is to Blame 123
tWhen my companion had delivered the parcel of good things to the hungry quartette (which, by the by, he had purchased with his last five dollars) he turned to me with his old smile and said :
"Now, my boy, let us take a hansom; but you must pay the cabbie, for I'm stumped."
I laughed, in spite of myself, as we walked out arm in arm, and made our way with difficulty through the dirty streets, stumbling over obstacles in the dark, till we arrived at what Jack termed my "mansion."
Soon we had a cheerful fire blazing in the Yukon stove (bless the inventor!) and after the best meal a couple of bachelors could provide from "canned goods" we wound up with strong coffee and the pipe of peace.
Putting an extra half-dozen candles in improvised candle-sticks and another pine log on the fire we drew our homemade rocking chairs nearer the stove and made ourselves as comfortable as anybody can be in this inhospitable clime.
"Now, Jack, I'm dying to know what you have been doing with yourself. I have already heard a dozen hard luck stories from persons who have come to Dawson by 'the poor man's route,' but they seem too 'far-fetched' to be believed."
"No, old fellow, they cannot be exaggerated even if they were written by Munchausen. Look at me ! Two years ago I was vain enough to think few men
124 Smiles and Tears
could beat me in feats of strength. It was a pleas- ure to live; life to me was like a pleasant story book, half read. I thought mankind was a sort of brotherhood ready and willing to help distress when it was genuine. I believed when people wrote books and gave descriptions of, and advice about, little known countries that they did so from a feeling of anxiety to let others profit by their experiences, to warn them of dangerous pitfalls and point out the easiest roads — just as a Christian does who has trod- den the shoals and depths of misery, when he unself- ishly spends time and money to lead an erring brother by a surer path than he himself had blindly traversed.
"But now I am weak and as feeble as an old man. I feel that twenty years have been added to my life. I no longer thirst for the drill ground or gymnasium. I see in mankind a selfish, struggling crowd, ever willing to take advantage of a brother's misfortunes ; willing even to deliberately lie and take a great deal of trouble to distort facts and publish them broad- cast, in order to send a too trusting public over thou- sands of miles of dangerous rivers, rapids, moun- tains, and swamps ; to send them into a country full of the most cruel hardships, where a man must work like a veritable slave ; must go hungry, become frost- bitten, and scurvy cursed, often without a friend to lend a helping hand."
Who Is to Blame 125
"But why should people write such misinforma- tion to the papers?" I asked.
"Why?" said my friend, jumping up in his excite- ment and pacing the room, "Why? Well, simply to boom the places through which the wretched victims must pass while traversing the much belauded and belied route; simply to bring in a few dollars to tradesmen, packers, freighters, roadhouses, steam- boat and railroad companies. Oh ! God will surely rain down vengeance on some of these inhuman brutes now that He has heard the cries of the many innocent ones, who have endured tortures which would have brought satisfaction to the most cruel of the Spanish inquisitors. I am glad to know that the Government of Canada is trying to undo some of the mischief caused by this abominable lying. Relief parties have been sent out to bring food and medicine to those who are still struggling along that fateful valley of despair, but the hearts of the would- be good Samaritans will be rent by the many tales they will hear of the brave but ineffectual struggles which father and son have made against disease and death; by the sight of many little mounds of earth which contain the bodies of men who set out from Edmonton with trusting, hopeful hearts, believing they would carry back to the quiet little home and its anxious ones the wherewithal to make the burden of life a little easier to bear for mother and children. But, alas! how many burdens have been added —
126 Smiles and Tears
burdens which have completely crushed whole fam- ilies .into the deepest slough of despair !"
I had heard tales at various times about the suf- ferings endured by the unfortunate pilgrims who had been persuaded to take what was called the "poor man's route" to Klondyke, but the truth had never been brought home so vividly to my mind as it was now. It did seem foolish for three thousand people to decide to go to the mouth of the Mackenzie, many miles above the Arctic Circle, and then cross into Alaska, pay duty on their goods at Fort Yukon and retrace their steps up the Yukon to Dawson; but now I fully realize what a baneful influence was ex- ercised by somebody over the minds and actions of these martyrs.
When my companion had somewhat calmed down I asked him to give me some of the details of his journey.
"I will not enter fully into all we endured," he began; "that would take too long and would do neither of us any good ; but I will just give a slight vsketch, adhering strictly to facts, and will leave it to anyone else with a mastery of words to fill in the de- tails. Remember I am only one of many and that I have escaped more fortunately than scores of others.
"When you left me at Calgary I went on to Ed- monton by train, stayed there to buy an outfit, and learn all I could about the trails.
"There were many hundreds of hopeful prospec-
Who Is to Blame 127
tors who knew as little about the journey as I did.
"I obtained a mass of information from books, from men who had sailed the Mackenzie, and spent many years of their lives in the North- West ; most of the notes were afterwards proved to be utterly un- reliable.
"Among those preparing for the journey north- ward were many men from San Francisco, Los Angeles, Seattle, Ottawa, Montreal and a few from England.
"Toward the end of April, everybody began to be anxious to push on toward Athabasca Landing.
"I had joined a party of seven ; we hired a couple of wagons to carry our outfits over one of the rough- est roads I have ever seen. At Athabasca Landing we bought timber and made two strong boats after the style of those which are used by the Hudson Bay Company. We divided ourselves into two parties, four in each boat.
"The first part of our journey was a most wretched one; the cold was still very cruel, and the torrents of rain which fell cast a gloom over the whole party. Now and then we would land and make a good fire, dry our clothes and attend to our ravenous appetites.
"We passed the numerous rapids safely, but I shall never forget the trouble we had with our goods. Once or twice we were in imminent danger, but as we had all been accustomed more or less to manage
128 Smiles and Tears
boats we reached Fort Murray none the worse for the struggle, though we had damaged a goodly part of our food with water.
"After drying our outfits we embarked and made for the west end of Lake Athabasca. Here we were nearly shipwrecked and saw two men drowned in a canoe.
"On arrival at Fort Resolution we met with hard winds and were driven ashore; there we lost one boat with the whole of the contents, thanks to the jagged rocks which abound along the south shore of Great Slave Lake.
"We were now delayed while building another boat; two of our party soon afterwards fell sick, probably from exposure to the icy winds and rain. We consequently proceeded more slowly. Our friends recovered somewhat as the warm weather appeared, but were never able to take their places with the rest and share the work.
"We saw but little game; with my Lee-Metford I shot two bears, whose flesh was a welcome change from bacon ; a few ducks were also bagged, but on the whole we might just as well have left our guns at Edmonton.
"At Fort Good Hope, just below the Arctic Cir- cle, we stayed, in the hopes of getting rest and re- cruiting the health of our two sick friends. Here the mosquitoes were worse than ever ; they literally
Who Is to Blame 129
darkened the air and made our daily lives almost unbearable.
"Another journey of about one hundred miles brought us to old Fort Good Hope. Here our two unfortunate friends contracted typhoid fever and though every care was given them they succumbed, dying within three days of each other. With sad hearts we buried them a few yards from the bank, erecting two small crosses and marking thereon their names and the dates of their decease.
"We now made a desperate effort to reach the Por- cupine River before the freeze-up, but on arriving at the mouth of the Mackenzie we learned that it would be an impossibility to get our food through the Mc- Dougal Pass in time to float down the Porcupine to the Yukon.
"Hoping to get fish and game we stayed near the mouth of Peel River, for we were now very short of food and there was none to be bought in the district. We built a small hut and prepared to make ourselves comfortable for the winter. I ranged the country round hoping to shoot a moose, but only succeeded in getting a lynx, which proved good eating. Our Canadian friend was more successful in fishing, for, though the ice had now covered the river and snow had fallen for several days, he broke away the ice and caught some fine salmon trout. I also shot sev- eral rats which we relished greatly.
"Our great difficulty was in getting sufficient fire-
136 Smiles and Tears
wood to keep ourselves warm, the thermometer sometimes falling to sixty degrees below zero.
"I cannot dwell on the horrors of the next six months. I saw my friends gradually sicken and die. We all had scurvy; one had it so badly that his whole body swelled like a drowned man. My legs became a dark blue, but his were almost black and his gums were discolored and often burst with blood.
"We buried him behind the hut on Christmas Day; just one week afterwards, on New- Year's Day, we buried another — I alone being able to pre- pare the grave, the others being too enfeebled to work.
"We had a few visits from Indians, but they shunned our hut as they would a pest house.
"Whether through fear or despair I know not, but one day the young Englishman took advantage of my absence, while I was fetching wood, and wan- dered away through the snow. I tracked him, with the snow in some places above my waist, and found him lying apparently dead about three hundred yards away. I improvised a sled and took him back to the cabin where we found that his hands and feet were frozen. It was then that I froze this ear — you see I have lost a half of it. Mortification set in and poor Tom was laid beside the others.
"Three of us now were left and somehow or an- other we managed to hold out till the weather modi-
Who Is to Blame 131
fied; we were almost starved, but thank God, we were able to find our way to La Pierre House. Here we obtained dogs and sleds and with the assistance of two Indians brought our earthly possessions to Bell River. While here we fell in with the four men who are now lodging at the bunk house with me, and to- \ gether we came through that hell gate, the Mc- Dougal Pass, where I suffered with snow blindness for three days. Then on the banks of the Porcu- pine we built a scow and crossed into Alaska in June.
"On arriving at Fort Yukon with our scanty but precious outfit we had just sufficient money left to pay the American customs dues !
"We were so downhearted and dejected that I be- lieve if the customs officers had taken everything we possessed we should not have murmured.
"My companions went on to Nome and I worked my way to Dawson and luckily ran up against you."
As Jack finished his story I recalled to mind the irritation I had felt that afternoon just because I had been disappointed, while here was he apparently wrecked in body and purse and with not a complaint to make.
"Jack, old fellow," said I, "you have had a rough time of it, but it's a long lane that has no turning. My partner has sold out and gone to Nome ; I can- not do my business alone, so if you "
"But," began Jack.
"Yes, I know what you are going to say, but
132 Smiles and Tears
don't be rudely interrupting me. You and I Have had too many happy days in the past to want to drift apart again, so you will make me happy by bringing your belongings here and calling this your home."
Impulsive, as was his wont, he came toward me and, with eyes full of gratitude, grasped my hand
with never a word.
*******
I should like to finish this story by saying we worked in partnership together, developed our mines and returned home rich enough to gladden the lives of those for whom we came here. But alas, in less than a week, weakened by exposure, poor food and hard work, he took pneumonia, and as I write these lines is lying within reach of my hand, colder than the snows outside my cabin, but gone where there is no more sorrow, no more pain, "where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest."
Poor Jack ! He died with a smile on his face and a prayer on his lips, asking God to forgive those who had been indirectly responsible for his untimely death.
A Chapter of Grievances
ELLA CUNNINGHAM
A Chapter of Grievances
ELLA CUNNINGHAM
LET me tell you what I think most about these pleasant spring days as I sit at my window overlooking the banks of the Klondyke River, listening to the murmur of the water.
One thinks of many things — principally of home and mother's cooking.
Now, I am not ashamed to own to that, for one does grow tired after a time of bacon and beans, imi- tation potatoes and cotton flannel onions.
That may seem an extraordinary way to describe them, but, truly, they resemble nothing so much as long narrow strips of cotton flannel, and are about as easy to chew up, swallow and digest.
But my reflections upon this particular morning are upon another and vastly deeper subject.
This morning I went out to the cache and hauled over several hundred pounds of stuff to find a partic- ular kind of flour that I wanted. When I had dis- covered it, and had lifted out the sack and piled all the other stuff back again, I found a sack of that particular brand sticking out at the end of the pile
136 Smiles and Tears
which could have been pulled out without disturb- ing anything else.
'Twas ever thus, but it gives you an idea of the inconveniences a woman has to put up with.
On our way in here, over the trail and down the river, we had seven of those abominations called clothes bags. Whenever we wanted anything it was always in the very bottom of the very last bag.
This continual illustration of the law of gravity, by which anything put into the bag, even if only five minutes before, immediately found its way to the bottom was a constant source of wonder and specu- lation.
I intend to devote the first few years after I go outside to writing upon "The Natural Depravity of Inanimate Things." I feel sure of striking a sym- pathetic chord in the heart of every reader, especially of those who were in Klondyke.
But it is not of these things, bad as they are, that I wish to write.
There are three things which I earnestly hope never to set eyes upon again after I leave this Klon- dyke vale. They are, a Yukon stove, a man with a frying pan, and a dog.
^The Yukon stove is an invention of the devil. This is made so plain in every crook and turn of its torturous way that I defy contradiction.
Upon my hands and arms are scars which I shall Carry to my grave, scars acquired in heroic combat
A Chapter of Grievances 137
with this arch enemy of mankind. The stove always comes off victorious.J It will burn more wood to the square inch than any contrivance for burning wood that was ever before invented. It will burn with intolerable heat just when you don't want a fire; and will deliberately and with malice aforethought go "black out" just when you want a fire the most.
It will burn your biscuits to a crisp, or won't bake them at all, when you have company; and it is just as likely to bake them a beautiful golden brown and done to a turn when you don't have company and don't care whether they turn out good or not.
It will hump its back up in the middle, like a buck- ing broncho, and slide your bucket of beans, frying pan of bacon and pot of coffee off on to the floor just as dinner is ready; it will smoke worse than a Regina Club smoker if you don't take the stovepipe down and carry it out and clean it about every third morning.
Speaking of its smoking propensity reminds me of a story I heard anent the Yukon stove at Sheep Camp last Spring.
Two men were riding past my tent door upon a heavily loaded sled and one was telling the other about a party that had arrived at Sheep Camp the night before, set up their camp and built a fire in the stove to prepare their evening meal.
"The blamed thing smoked so it drove 'em clean out of the tent," continued the man, "and they come
138 Smiles and Tears
up after me to go down and see if I could find out what was the matter with it. I went down there and what do you s'pose ? Hang me if the d — d fools hadn't built the fire in the oven! Haw! haw! haw !" and with this loud guffaw the man passed on, out of hearing.
The Yukon stove has but one redeeming quality that I know of, it is light in weight and can be tele- scoped and packed upon the back anywhere; but I am doubtful whether any man who has ever packed one fifty or sixty miles over to Sulphur or Dominion will consider that a redeeming quality !
A man with a frying pan is a blot upon the face of nature.
All the way down the river this fact is painfully impressed upon you.
You arrive in the morning and go forth from your tent to breathe the fresh air and enjoy the beauty of the scenery. I You see in every direction the smoke of a hundred camp fires curling gracefully up toward the heavens, and over every one of these camp fires hovers a man with a frying pan, looking helplessly about him for whatever it was that he was going to put in it.jV,
A man with a frying pan is distinctly a grievance, a monstrosity, a nightmare of memory, to be thrust away down into its deepest depths and forever buried in oblivion.
A Chapter of Grievances 139
But the dog! How shall I describe the sorrows and sufferings of the Klondyke dog?
You meet him everywhere upon the trail. As he crawls along, dragging his heavy load, with his slender body stretched until it seems as though it would pull in two, he glances up furtively into your face, in passing, and in his pitiful and pathetic eyes you read the whole story of his wrongs and woes.
Your heart is torn and lacerated afresh every hour. At all times of the day, and far into the night, you hear his wails and moans, coupled with kicks, curses and blows from his brutal driver.
During the few short hours allotted him to rest he lifts up his voice in bewailing his hard lot and ren- ders your slumber broken and uneasy.
The howling of a dog has come to act upon my nerves like vitriol upon a wound. And with all the wrongs and abuse that are heaped upon him he re- sponds joyfully to a kind word or a pat of the hand — affectionate, forgiving, and faithful ever, even when all the world fails you.
What punishment will be meted out to the brutal owners of these faithful and necessary servants ?
And is it any wonder that a woman who is obliged daily to witness these scenes of cruelty should heartily hope never to see a dog again?
July Fourth in a Klondyke Prison
ALICE ROLLINS CRANE
July Fourth in a Klondyke Prison
ALICE ROLLINS CRANE
DAWSON is too busy to keep many holidays, but two are celebrated with much hearti- ness— the Queen's birthday, and July 4th, Independence Day, which all Americans keep in Canada's capital of the frozen North.
Mrs. La Belle Brooke Vincent, an American woman to the backbone, of a most refined and edu- cated nature and trained at the Michigan Normal College, was imprisoned in Dawson for debt, in- curred by trusting her fortune to the slippery fingers of one of her countrymen. This misplaced con- fidence ended in the financial ruin of the lady and her property being divided among lawyers and work- men.
She has since been released, but has lost a fortune of $40,000 and been reduced to poverty.
After leaving prison, I received a visit from her when she gave me the following:
144 Smiles and Tears
Liberty in Sable
In prison, all days are days of waiting, and I was thus waiting one morning, unmindful that it was America's anniversary of freedom, when I heard the sound of a crowd of people without and the would- be music of a band playing "Marching thro' Georgia."
A sense of my own situation, brought about by the trickery of one of my countrymen, and the vile- ness of a prison contaminated even by the greater vileness brought in by Americans, overpowered me for a moment. Luckily there was no one to witness my tears.
Presently a kind-hearted guard in the corridor who was sitting upon a box under a window, and who wished to prove his sympathy for me, offered to allow me to stand upon the box where I could see what was passing without.
It was a celebration of America's day of freedom on British soil, a celebration which certainly must have afforded the British a keenly sarcastic enjoy- ment.
The crowd was entering the barracks' court and Capt. Jack Crawford, riding a bay pack horse, was in the lead. The captain is called "the Poet Scout," and is also proprietor of the "Wigwam," a tent dis- pensary of soft drinks. He was dressed in cream white leather breeches, with leather tassels fringing
July Fourth in a Klondyke Prison 145
his attenuated legs, and a ruffled blouse. A yellow tie and a cowboy hat, jauntily surmounting the brown grey hair that lay in a kinky mass about his shoulders, completed his costume.
He turned in the saddle and his eyes noted the motley crowd that followed. There was something of respectability, something of mediocrity, some- thing of the scum of all creation about it, and not a few Americans that forgot to be American, men of the kind that love license and misname it liberty.
AVithout the prison the howling, bellowing vic- tim of vice raised his raucous voice in uncon- scious dishonor to his country, and to even human nature or any animal nature.
The cage was overfull of men quite unconscious of the fact that, by proclaiming their fidelity to her colors, they shamed the glorious land of America.
The yelling mob was soon reinforced by the scarlet of the women of doubtful virtue, all massed without shelter from the hot sun in the open court, around which stood the barracks, mess rooms and quarters of the men and soldiers who are attaches of the British Government.
A young man with able lungs stepped out upon the roof of the porch of Col. Steele's office and re- joiced in his inability to speak well or at length upon such an inspiring occasion as when America is per- mitted to celebrate on British soil. The crowd was
146 Smiles and Tears
bound to accept him at its own estimation so his apol- ogies were unnecessary.
When a man speaks in the open air it gives him a feeling that he is speaking to all creation and cannot avoid doing himself justice.
All went well and he jollied everybody, but it is with sincere pity that his words are noted citing us as "one people and brothers" — a pity for the British in view of the "us-ness" of the crowd !
The singing of "The Star Spangled Banner" by a few voices followed and then Captain Jack made a stage entrance from the open window upon the little roof, after the manner of the release of a Jack-out- of-the-box, and with a bow, shouted :
"I tell you, boys, I'm glad to be here."
No one doubted him, but no one shouted; the sentiment was not reciprocated by the crowd and he then relieved himself of a made-to-order Wild West speech.
The crowd then hurrah'd weakly for the Stars and Stripes; for the English flag, for America, for the Queen and for Col. Steele, and then scattered on the various nearest trails to saloons or to the sports — like school boys released from their tasks.
The brown canvas coats of the mounted police and the red coats of the military were conspicuous only by their absence. The English officials and social lights were busy somewhere else.
Sad enough were my thoughts on this the national
July Fourth in a Klondyke Prison 147
holiday of my native land and the anniversary of its freedom. I was a helpless prisoner in an English debtor's prison, and what I saw was not of home or native land.
Oh, America! That thy foster children, with tongues yet unbroken of their foreign ways, should so dishonor thee that one of thy daughters preferred to be in prison than to be numbered among the free who dishonored thy sacred colors !
Why not wholesome discipline to make those lives of some account and fit to be American before given the priceless boon of citizenship?
Else are we no nation — only a conglomerate of waifs and exiles gathered together from every land on earth !
She Softened the Major
WILLIAM GALPIN
She Softened the Major
WILLIAM GALPIN
THE Royal Commission of Enquiry at Daw- son opened one morning at n o'clock by Mrs. Koch following Mr. Fawcett, the gold commissioner, in the witness box. When "Mrs. Koch" was called, a little woman in the body of the court quickly rose to her feet and appeared to be in a great hurry, one might say in an anxious hurry, to go into the box and tell all the truth and nothing but the truth. Walking with a pert air to the box the little lady, dressed very neatly and jauntily in black, and got up like a Christmas doll with black Mother Hubbard bonnet edged all round the face with swans' down, looking at the smiling Commissioner, began to rattle off her story at express speed before she had fairly come to a standstill. But the short- hand scribe stopped her to ask her name; then, the way being apparently clear, the lively witness bolted again, but this time was curbed by the solemn voice and face of the legal gentleman who began to ad- minister the oath in dignified manner. This, for a moment seemed to curb the lady's bolting propensi-
152 Smiles and Tears
ties, but not being able to keep quite still during the time when the solemn words of the oath were being spoken she repeatedly raised the Testament to her lips and kissed it affectionately with demonstra- tive fervor.
Then the lady was really allowed to turn on full steam and go ahead. Taking full advantage of the permission a rapid flow of language followed, some- what in this strain :
"I cannot speak ze Eengleesh langoidge ferry veil, but I vill do ma' best to mak' myselv ondarstood. Cause ven I coom to Dawson I speak only a very leetle of Eengleesh. Veil, ven I found dat all Daw- son had ze gold fevair I too took de fevair and I taught dat eef I got a claim on Domeenyon I could surely peeck out de nuggets vich veere steeking out of de ground. I know dat a man could go mooch faster dan a voomans, so I say do myselve, 'Get a permeet and stake and get mooch gold ;' so I go to Major Valsh and ask heem for a permeet and he say, 'Go to de gold commeeseener.' So I go; I went down to de offeece of de Commeeseener — dat jentle- mon dere ; I deed not know Mr. Fawcett den so I ask heem vor a permeet. He did not understan' me a leetle beit, and for I could not speek der Eengleesh all de peeble in de offiece day laugh ver mooch, so I go near do Mr. Fawcett and say 'I vant permeet to stake on Domeenyon,' and he say, 'Who send you?' Then I go ver neer and visper right in hees ear, 'A
She Softened, the Major 153
vriens ;' and he say, 'Vat friend ?' and I say, 'Major Valsh;' and he zay, 'Go back to Major Valsh and get his request in writing.' Den I hurry off like ze lightning, and I ask for Major Valsh's permee- sion, and he say, 'Go and tell Mr. Fawcett to gif you a perrmeet ;' zen I hurry back and ask ze gold com- meesioneer vonce again and he gave me peermeet with many schmiles.
"Zen I feel so glad and taught now my vortune is zurely made and I go off to Domeenyon with anoder lady. I staked a claim, but I deed not see de gold nuggets schteeking out of de ground, and ven I got back I vas ver weary and seek; after waiting three days I go to de gold commeesioners and ask him to record my claim and he zay, 'No, I vill not.' Then I say, 'I vill fight.' (Here the little woman's eyes flashed and she stood bolt upright in her full height of four feet six, and threw forward her hand, which certainly did not betoken a very hasty death to the one who might receive a blow from it. )
"Then I go again like lightning to Major Valsh and I zay, 'You haf deceived me. I cannot get ze claim record now I haf schtaked, vot shall I do ?' and ze Major he say, 'I cannot help you.' Den I say, 'I vill fight;' but ze Major, he say, 'No, don't.' Zen I say, 'I vill veep ;' and I veep, veep, veep, and soften ze Major and he say, 'I vill go down and zee dat you haf ze claim;' zen I vas blessed and now I haf got ze claim."
154 Smiles and Tears
Here Mrs. Koch stopped, not for want of breath, for she seemed accustomed to volubility and rather enjoyed it. I thought, too, that her "Eengleesh" considerably improved as she proceeded ; she stopped because she was simply like a clock "run down" — with nothing more to say — and she looked round with an air which said: "You see I know what I have been talking about ; I got the permit and I got the claim recorded, and come on anybody who wants to take it away from me."
On being released the witness stepped down from the stand and smilingly took her place in the body of the court, offering to show her recording papers. After turning over many with rapidity, she handed in a paper which proved on opening to be quite a different document, so laughingly receiving it back she put in the right one and then left the court with a smile of satisfaction on her happy counte- nance.
White Horse Rapids
A Chapter from "The Dawson Widow'
ALICE ROLLINS CRANE
White Horse Rapids
A Chapter from "The Dawson Widow"
ALICE ROLLINS CRANE
THEY camped that night a few miles from the dreaded canyon and White Horse Rapids, and Captain Day worked himself into quite a nervous state as he heard those around him telling tales of the many men who had gone through those places at the risk of their lives.
"I tell you, pard," one man was saying, "I would not go through those rapids for all the gold in Klondyke."
"What are ye goin' to do, thin?" said another.
"Why, git out an' walk, o' coorse, an' let the pilot chap take her through."
Then another would chime in.
"I do 'ear as 'ow the sides of the canyon is kiv- ered all over wid little crosses, which is werry sig- nificant, don't yer think?"
"Graves, I s'pose?" said a quiet voice.
"No, they only shows how many have been wrecked, for their corpses is never found owing to
158 Smiles and Tears
the suction of the water or the shapes of the blessed rocks or the presence of a subterranean channel which leads no one knows where,' for thim who has gone thence never returns!"
A deep silence followed the speech of the last speaker, whose solemn tones evidently made an un- comfortable impression on his audience.
"Now, look 'ere, pards," chimed in a high toned voice, marked more than the other with a decided nasal twang, "these places ain't so dangerous as ye imagines ; why, a friend o' mine last year fell asleep in his boat jist about 'ere, and he goes floatin' down at the rate o' eight knots. Well, he wakes up thinkin' as how he must be a nearin' them air rap- ids, so shouts out to a man on the bank, 'How far is it to White Horse ?' and the man says, 'You have passed that an hour ago,' so he was kind o' dum- founded, for he went through asleep and didn't know it!"
Most of his listeners put the man down for a perverter of the truth, to say the least and tried to sleep soundly that night and feel refreshed for their grand struggle en the morrow.
After a restless night, thanks to those frightfully malicious little pests called "skeets," or "skeeters,"' but whose full title is mosquitoes, the hundreds of boatsmen who had pitched camp on the swampy shore were flitting about making fires of the in- flammable spruce lying around in all directions,
White Horse Rapids 159
having been burnt as dry as tinder by forest fires in ages long gone.
"Good morning, Ole," said Bessie, as she stepped from the tent on the boat to the shore.
"Why! what on earth is the matter with you?"
"Don't laugh, lady; if you knew the awful fight I have had with these venomous blood suckers all night you would indeed pity me. I feel that I could scratch my head for an hour, only it would not look polite."
"Come and let me put some mosquito salve on your face."
"That is of no use, as you will soon discover for. yourself if you get bitten ; it is only a decoction to catch the inexperienced. You will find that they attack all newcomers till their blood gets too poor to satisfy the villainous epicures."
However, he submitted his swollen features to Bessie's soothing touch and tried to look relieved after a lengthy application of the ill smelling un- guent.
The unfortunate Norwegian was indeed a pic- ture of misery. His nose was swollen to quite three times its usual size, his forehead stood out ornamented with two huge bumps like horns, his small eyes were only just visible through his puffed cheeks, and his neck reminded one strongly of a person suffering badly from a combination of mumps and goitre.
160 Smiles and Tears
"You must wear my veil," said Bessie, offering it to Die, which he refused, saying he could neither see nor breathe through that "darned thing."
After breakfast everything was made fast in the boat, so that there should be no shifting of cargo when the rapids were reached.
Provisions were covered with ground-sheets and other waterproof material; the boat's bows were protected with a kind of deck made of canvas, the steering oar was lashed in its place, the dogs were covered up, spare oars were placed at hand in case of an accident and the boat was moved off.
"We must be very near the canyon, as the current is growing so rapid," said Ole.
"I will land and walk around," said Captain Day, "and will meet you at the other side of White Horse."
Bessie saw the look of contempt which flitted across Ole's face, and felt humiliated.
"I should like the excitement, and would rather stay in the boat if I can be of any use," said Bes- sie, for she thought she might be able to aid in some small way.
"You had better get out, too," said Day; "we can have the goods taken out and portaged to the other side of the White Horse and pay a pilot to take the boat through, if Ole is afraid."
"I will be my own pilot, sir ; where others can go I go."
White Horse Rapids 161
.While they were discussing the situation Ole suddenly cried: "Pull your right," meaning that Captain Day and Bessie should pull their port oars. "Now, steady! if you wish to come out alive. Don't talk, don't move, but watch me ; we are at the mouth of the canyon and have no choice. Now pull the right ! hard! steady!"
They never knew whether Ole had intentionally kept in the current and drifted prematurely into the irresistible mouth of the awful maelstrom, or whether he accidentally steered too far from the landing place, where many others had put ashore and were carrying their goods, and even their, boats, over that rough trail in the broiling sun.
Captain Day's face blanched and Bessie felt nerv- ous, except when she had her attention attracted by people high up on the edge of the banks looking as though they expected to see their boat dashed to splinters on the jagged rocks standing out like che- vaux-de-frise from the seething waters.
Bessie heard such coarse expressions above their heads as:
"Good-bye ; you are off to h '!"•
"Go, back, you fools, and get a pilot !" "You will never come out of it alive!" 'One more comforting voice shouted : "Keep to your right and don't get flurried; there is no danger." . The self -dubbed pilots were very jealous 01 any-
162 Smiles and Tears
body attempting to take their own boats through. They charged ridiculously high prices for the short pilotage, varying them with the gullibility of their victims.
They "qualified" themselves for pilots by sim- ply walking about with a pair of oars on their shoul- ders, dressing in red jerseys and imposing on the credulity of the anxious gold-seekers, all in a fever heat to push ahead of each other.
Away flew the "English Rose" at an exhilarating speed; at one moment she was in a seething whirl- pool, the next saw her tossed up in the air almost clear of the waves. Now she would dance with little bumps and throbs like a huge pulse; then she would keep steady for a few seconds and her bows would toss up a mass of spray which covered Cap- tain Day's neck and shoulders like a cold shower- bath.
Whizz ! and they just grazed the stern of a great scow which, a few minutes before, had been gored by an immense rock near the middle of the current and was now lying athwart the canyon, making navigation still more dangerous. Two poor fellows had tried to make for the banks, but had been drowned, while those who stuck to the unwieldy mass of ill-shapen timbers were afterward rescued.
On they bounded with awful speed. Darkness seemed to suddenly envelope them as they entered farther into the awe inspiring canyon, and then the
White Horse Rapids 163
walls of solid rock seemed to close in upon them. Ole could not tell what was before him, for the passage was not straight. Now the echo of the roaring waters rebounded from side to side, remind- ing them of the noise which a fast train makes in speeding through a tunnel.
Suddenly a great rock loomed ahead, round which the waters are curling in fantastic eddies.
"Right !" said Ole earnestly, and at the same time pulled his steering oar toward him and held on like grim death.
It was an anxious time; a wrong order, a slight mistake, made in the fraction of a second, and in- evitable destruction awaited them.
Ole's presence of mind was brought prominently to the front, as, rounding a rocky corner, they saw a huge raft containing affrighted horses jammed hard on a rock right in their way. By almost su- perhuman effort the boat is steered clear.
They breathe again, for though the current is still swift, the surface is comparatively smooth. A voice from above shouts, "Keep in the middle!" In an- other few seconds they are out of the death-trap into open water. Bessie looked her thanks and Ole let his features relax into a smile, as he remarked :
"The boat behaved splendidly, didn't she?"
"Yes," said Bessie, with much earnestness in her voice, "and so did you."
164 Smiles and Tears
Captain Day said he would rather have had his face than his back turned to the danger.
"Then would you like to steer, sir, through the White Horse?"
"Oh, no! I'll ask you to land where you see everybody else is landing. I'm not going to at- tempt another foolhardy venture like that. Let us at least know something of the danger we have to meet."
Too soon they arrived near the entrance of the White Horse rapids, and it was only by great exer- tion on the part of Bessie and Captain Day that they were not again launched into another vortex against their will.
They succeeded in landing a few hundreds yards from the entrance to the rapids.
Telling their dogs to "watch," they set out to walk along the bank in order to note the dangerous parts of the "white man's grave."
It was well they did so, for on arriving at the "dip," where the channel was extremely narrow, they watched carefully how other boats acted and profited thereby.
"You see, lady," said Ole, "all the boats that shoot the rapids in the best style keep away toward the left bank and then let the water carry them through while being kept straight with the current. Look at the number who come to grief after they think themselves safe!"
White Horse Rapids 165
They stayed about half an hour, during which time they saw two boats wrecked, two poor fellows drowned, and about five others came within an inch of losing their lives, being dragged out with ropes.
Captain Day was soliloquizing as he tramped back to where their boat had been left.
"I should only add to the weight of the boat, so I think you had better go alone, Ole ; Mrs. Day will walk along with me."
"Really, I should like to say I had been through those famous rapids, and I'm sure the tossing about must be delightful," said Bessie, with just a slight mark of contempt on her face.
Captain Day caught the smile on Ole's face and said:
"Well, Bessie, if you would like to brave the danger I cannot let you go without me," and as he said so he felt he could kick that Scandinavian.
"Pilot your boat, sir; only thirty dollars," said a man who had but recently gone through the rapids himself and felt he was therefore qualified to take charge of other people's property.
Captain Day declined his offer. 'Twas well he did so, for the man wrecked three boats out of four and got soundly thrashed by the unfortunate own- ers when he asked for his thirty dollars.
In a few minutes the three were afloat and being tossed about in the rapids, which did not seem nearly so dangerous to Bessie as Miles Canyon ; but
1 66 Smiles and Tears
had she been able to look just below the surface of the water and see the pointed, jagged rocks ready to tear the bottom out of their craft, and had she known that it was quite even chances whether they got through scathless or not, she would not have felt so confident, even on Ole's steering.
She did not know what made her think of Jack and her father at that moment, but she did, and prayed most fervently, as the boat was tossed about like a cork. Hardly had the prayer escaped her lips when she was made conscious of a great up- heaval, then a sudden depression accompanied by a severe shaking and a shower bath, a snapping of Ole's oar and his snatching another in less than a second, the shouts of the people on the bank and they were through the turmoil, where people were try- ing to catch their rope and arrest their progress by giving it a turn around the stump of a tree.
"Throw the rope, Captain," said Ole, "to that man waiting to catch it for us."
The rope was thrown, but the good-natured fel- low got it twisted round his leg and before one could hardly think he was dragged in the swift-flowing stream.
"Save him!" almost screamed Bessie.
The man disappeared beneath the treacherous waters.
In his excitement Captain Day cut the rope, thinking by some strange course of reasoning that
White Horse Rapids 167
the man was being held down by it and prevented from rising. Alas ! his body was never seen again.
Bessie saw three such accidents before she ar- rived at Dawson. After bumping several boats and knocking a plank out of one, they succeeded in fastening their boat to a tree, for Ole had taken the sensible precaution of coming provided with plenty of rope.
A Fragment of the Trip
ELLA CUNNINGHAM
A Fragment of the Trip ;
ELLA CUNNINGHAM
WE REACHED the foot of Lake Marsh on the sixteenth day of June, and how de- lightful seemed the change from the frowning granite walls and eternal snow covered mountains that had hemmed us in so long at Linderman and Bennett! Here the country was flat and open; the dark, sombre fir and spruce were replaced by the lighter and more cheerful willow and poplar. Luxuriant green grass was waving in all the meadows that bordered the lake, and every- where wild roses were blooming more beautiful than I had ever seen before.
The long, bright days were flooded with sunshine, and even at midnight a solemn, soft light prevailed — a light as of another world, to be seen nowhere save in Alaska in summer, and which seemed to fill our very souls with vague, unutterable longings.
We were to remain at the foot of Lake Marsh for ten days, while the boys went on a prospecting trip up the McClintock river.
During the first two days of our stay the wind
172 Smiles and Tears
blew strongly and persistently up the lake. Con- sequently, we hardly saw a boat in that time, save an occasional solitary one, the impatient Argonauts pulling manfully at the oars, but making little prog- ress.
On the evening of the second day, however, the wind changed suddenly and began blowing down the lake. Then came the change. About eleven o'clock that night the whole fleet of expectant gold- seekers appeared in view, sailing royally down the lake. Never have I witnessed a more beautiful and impressive sight than those boats presented in the soft, uncertain light at night. On they came, with snowy sails full spread, racing as it were to the far north, falling behind and overtaking one another, the whole scene constantly changing like a pano- rama. We stood by our little canvas dwelling- places and watched them longingly, awed into si- lence by their mysterious motion across the brood- ing waters.
One boat appeared most uncanny, sailing ever faster than the others and seemingly impelled by some invisible force into the distant twilight at the foot of the lake.
We watched it, that one boat, to the exclusion of all the rest, until it flitted down the narrow outlet like a pale, white spectre, and finally disappeared from our sight forever.
Every day we found some new object of inter-
A Fragment of the Trip 273
est, some fresh beauty to study or admire. A trad- ing post had been established near our camp. We also found Indian graves containing the ashes of departed ones, evidently freshly cremated, the graves of which were covered with bright-colored blankets.
The Indian trader at the post was absent during the time we remained there. On his door was a notice issued by the police warning people against trespassing, and beside this notice was fastened an- other one containing the significant warning, "White Man No Steal!"
The twenty-first of June arrived. It was a long, bright, golden day, and so we walked to a high hill that we had noticed, several miles back from the lake and climbed to its top. Here we had a magnificent view of the Lewes river and also traced the tortu- ous windings of the McClintock for many miles from its mouth. Fortunately for us, a good breeze was blowing the greater part of the time we spent there, otherwise we might have been greatly incon- venienced by the mosquitoes — the greatest pests in the Yukon country.
Taken altogether, looking back upon that time, I cannot remember ever having known a more idyllic season than those ten days spent in camp at the foot of Lake Marsh, in "leafy June." We felt genuine regret when the boys came down the McClintock,
174 Smiles and Tears
reported "no luck," and we made our preparations to join the silent flotilla drifting northward.
As we sat up late that evening, charmed by the beauty of the night, I silently wished that it might be June forever, and we might dream away our days in delicious idling at the foot of Lake Marsh.
A Gambler
From "The Dawson Widow'
ALICE ROLLINS CRANE
A Gambler
From "The Dawson Widow"
ALICE ROLLINS CRANE
ONE evening Captain Day left Bessie to the tender care of three Malamute dogs tied outside a little tent which he pitched in the snow, and told her to do the best she could with the blankets and few cheap robes he had purchased at an enormous price in Skaguay.
He made his way to one of the gambling saloons where he determined to try his luck again.
Accustomed as he was growing to the manners and customs of the people who had left the coast towns of America to try their fortunes in the Yukon, he was disgusted on entering the gambling hell to see even a lower class of men than he had seen before.
It was not their clothes or their language, bad as it was, which made him doubt whether he would stay or go back to Bessie, but the hang- dog appearance of many of the evident leaders of the gang which made him pause and consider whelKgr he could win with such odds against him.
178 Smiles and Tears
Never for a moment did he think, as many did, that he could win by straightforward play; if he won at all it must be by beating the cheats at their own game.
Captain Day did not know it at the time, but He learned subsequently that an organized gang of swin- dlers had settled down in Skaguay, defying the law and robbing men under pretence of gambling under the very noses of the United States Marshal and his assistants.
One of these scoundrels had marked Captain Day immediately he entered the room and sidled up to him, pretending to be a new arrival from the gold fields and just come in to look on.
After a few commonplace observations (having introduced himself as Mr. Jones, of San Francisco) he called the attention of Captain Day to a young Englishman who had been induced to play poker.
He gained Day's attention and took him off his guard by railing against the evils of gambling, saying he had once given himself up to the bad habit, had been bitten and was waiting to get even with his enemy.
"Hullo," said Captain Day, "what is the matter with the younjg Englishman?"
"Oh! he has lost, I suppose, and is talking pas- sionately of going for the United States Marshal ; he had better leave quietly or it will be worse for him."
"You scoundrels," said the victim, "you have
A Gambler 179
been cheating the whole time and now I will have you arrested."
With flushed face he pushed his way through the crowd followed by the leader of the gang who had been a passive spectator of the game.
The lad, for he was only twenty years old, made his way to the door and had just passed out when he received a murderous blow on the head from a man who had been waiting near the doorway to receive orders from his chief.
Captain Day saw the body lying there on leaving the house a few moments later with his newly ac- quired friend and gave the police notice of the affair. There was a pretence next day of endeavoring to find the murderer, but the incident blew over, as no- body pressed for a conviction.
That same night Captain Day entered another saloon frequented by old-time miners.
Jones pointed out a weather-beaten grizzly, bearish fellow, apparently a stranger for years to soap and water. His hands were hard and hairy; he certainly was no professional gambler, though he dearly loved a game of cards; he was no chee- charko or tenderfoot, though he had made himself famous in many a bluff game.
He had a long gold sack and was pretty free with it, calling frequently on the whole house to clrink at his expense.
"As I live he shall dance to-night, or the son
180 Smiles and Tears
of a gun will be filled with lead;" and as the bear said this he proceeded deliberately to load a long six-shooter, and then replaced it in his hip pocket.
The crowd of spongers who were ready to listen to anyone if they think they can get drinks by so doing, laughed coarsely at Grizzly's words.
"I want a man for supper, and I shall eat Long Tom unless he dances."
Long Tom was a quiet, inoffensive man who at- tended to his own business and had on two or three occasions told Grizzly to attend to his.
Grizzly was feared by most of the miners, for he was a deadly shot, had the reputation of coming out best in a quarrel and was a most unforgiving enemy.
One or two of the more sober-minded miners told Grizzly that he could never make Tom get on the floor, and hinted that he was no fool.
This only made him swear the more vehemently that Tom should sing as well as. dance.
Passing up the bar Captain Day, curious to see how the affair would end, followed the retreating crowd at a distance of a few yards and heard Grizzly say to Tom:
"Now, you psalm-singing booby, I told my mates that you are going to give us a song to- night. I'm not particular whether it is a jig or a
hornpipe or a reel, but dance you will, or by "
and as he finished with a string of blasphemous oaths
A Gambler 181
he jerked his gun out of his pocket by a dexterous twist of the wrist and pointed it in a direct line with Long Tom's face.
"And what if I refuse, old braggart; what will happen ?"
"Happen! Well, I'll fill your head as full of lead as it is of conceit. Now jist you hurry up, or "
More oaths were uttered and a dangerous look came in the old sinner's eyes, which meant mischief.
Long Tom would have sprung forward and snatched the gun from his hands, but on second thought he reflected that before he could move a foot Grizzly's finger would press the trigger.
At that moment a friend standing at Tom's back deftly passed his own revolver into Tom's right hand, which happened to be placed behind him.
Acting on the spur of the moment and before anybody dreamed of what was being done Tom swung his hand to the front and fired.
The bullet entered the left eye of Grizzly, who gave a half snort, half sneeze, and fell forward on his face stone dead.
Of course Tom was arrested, but next day he was released, acquitted, and a feast was given in his honor for having rid the camp of a pest.
One would have thought that two murders in one night would have been enough for Captain Day, but he had come out to gamble and he felt an in- ordinate desire to do so that night or rather morn->
1 82 Smiles and Tears
ing, for it was now four A. M., though the saloons were just as crowded as before.
After a few drinks with Jones, who had made an- other favorable impression on Captain Day by de- claring himself to be an Irishman, but had been so long in America that he had lost the brogue, he grew quite confidential.
He told Captain Day over another glass of vile whiskey, how he had been duped in Wrangle on his way in and that he had made his fortune on the gold fields of the Klondyke. He showed the Cap- tain papers specifying the rich claims on Eldorado and Bonanza which he possessed, and said he was on his way to Wrangle on purpose to get even on the rogue who had nearly ruined him on his way into the country a year ago.
"I shall go to my tent now, captain, as I dislike late hours and do not care for the company one meets in saloons."
"Let us finish up with a mild game of Black Jack, Mr. Jones ; we need not lose much at that."
"No, I will just step in here to obtain a map of the route to Dawson with a description of the gold fields, which I promised to a friend, as I found great advantage myself in possessing one; then I am going off to bed. If you would like to have one, come in with me; it will not cost you anything."
Wishing, like a great many others, to become pos- sessed of something for nothing, Captain Day en-
A Gambler 183
tered a sort of warehouse, marked very conspicuously on the outside, "U. S. C."
At the farther end of the little wooden building was a counter, made of a single slab of wood; be- hind this was a small room with a diminutive win- dow, containing a table and four or five chairs, in which were seated four of the most tricky looking men one could meet. Their faces were full of mean deception, and as Captain Day and Mr. Jones entered the outside room the eldest one of the quartette quietly rose and taking a sheet of paper full of figures in one hand and a pen in the other, bustled forward in a businesslike manner to attend to his customers, standing behind the rough counter in a shy and respectful manner.
Meanwhile the trio quietly rose and, on tiptoe, opened the door at the back of the building and stole round to the front of the house, looking through the window and awaiting the development of events.
"Oh, can you let me have two of those maps, Mr. Isaacs ?"
"I am very sorry, sir, but we gave away the last about an hour ago ; however, I can get you some in a few minutes, if you will wait; I will send my boy for a fresh supply."
"Yes, we will wait," said Mr. Jones, "if he is not gone too long."
The three entered into conversation after Mr.
184 Smiles and Tears
Isaacs had returned from the little room, whence he had lately emerged, and where he told the imag- inary boy to hurry back "with a fresh supply of maps."
The course of conversation gradually drifted to- ward card games, and again, Mr. Jones, apparently with shy reluctance, told the story of his being duped at Wrangle and that he had learned the trick himself now and was going there to repay the swin- dlers in their own coin.
"What game was it, may I ask ?" said Mr. Isaacs.
"Well, I don't mind showing you, gentlemen, but I trust to you as men of honor to keep my secret, for it does not look very nice for me to be travelling about with cards like these on my person."
He drew from his pocket three cards; instead of the familiar playing cards two contained pictures of horses, the other picture of a man.
"Now you just pick out the man," said Mr. Jones, spreading them out on the slab.
"That is easy enough," laughed Isaacs. "I'll bet you fifty dollars I can pick the man."
"Done!" said Jones.
Isaacs lost.
Smiling, he bet another fifty and lost six times in succession, paying his debts in fifty-dollar notes.
Jones kept winking at Captain Day, taking him into his confidence, and giving him to understand that he could win every time.
A Gambler 185
"Let me have the cards," said Isaacs.
Jones willingly passed them over foe the loser to shuffle.
"I shall win every time," said Jones, "so shall not bet high, as I shall only be robbing you ; but it will be good practice for me in preparing for that nest of swindlers at Wrangle."
Six times in succession Jones won another fifty dollars, making in all six hundred.
Just then a knocking was heard at the door behind the retiring room; begging to be excused Isaacs left to attend to his business.
"How are things going, Isaacs," said one of the men who had been watching through the window; "do you think he will take the bait?"
"Yes, Soapy has him completely in his confidence and is now explaining to him how he himself can win all the money I have."
"Hurry up, then; we are half frozen."
"How is it that you win every time, Jones ?" said Captain Day, whose greedy eyes fairly glittered over the probable prospect of making money as easily as Jones did.
"Captain, I've taken a fancy to you, and will let you gratuitously into the secret, though it cost me a hundred dollars to buy it from an old gambler, simple as it is. Quick! look! this is the 'man,' see? Put your thumb nail across the back of one of the corners, like this.
1 86 Smiles and Tears
"See that mark? Yes, you see it now, but you did not notice it before, did you? I did and — but, hush, here he comes; now is your opportunity."
Mr. Isaacs returned and found Jones and Captain Day talking about the route over the Chilcoot. Isaacs laughingly said his Klondyke mines were bringing him in a thousand dollars a week and he was willing to pay anything if he would only show him how the trick was done.
But Jones was obdurate and, slyly winking at Day, observed that he meant to keep the secret to himself, at the same time giving the captain an encouraging nod to challenge Isaacs, as he placed the cards in Day's hands.
Captain Day shuffled them and laid them out, ask- ing Isaacs to pick out the man.
Isaacs failed; this was done three times, till, get- ting out of temper and raising his voice, he asked that he might shuffle them and let Captain Day de- tect the man, at the same time saying he meant to get back his six hundred dollars and would bet that amount that Day would fail to pick up the man.
Delighted at the turn things had taken, and know- ing that he could easily distinguish the marked card, Day put up six hundred dollars, with that of Isaacs, into the hands of the neutral party, Jones.
With a self-satisfied smile Day paused a moment, pretending to think, though his eye at once fell on the card with the marked corner. Then having
A Gambler 187
made up his mind he picked up his chosen one and found it to be a "horse !"
"Great heavens, sir," said Jones in a most excited manner, "I'm sorry this has happened; quick! double the bet and get back your own ! Then come away. How I hate this gambling!"
He assisted Captain Day to reopen his leather belt.
The captain was now wholly off his guard, was greatly agitated as well as irritated, an4 tore the leather in strips in getting out a roll of one hundred dollar bills.
His fingers trembled violently as he placed twelve hundred dollars by the side of a similar amount which the apparently equally excited Isaacs placed near Jones.
The cards were thrown down and Day looked very carefully this time. There could be no mistake. The cards were without a scratch, except one, and that bore the telltale nail mark in one of the corners. One more look of triumph, Day picked up — yes, another "horse!"
Before he could expostulate, or even think, the door was thrown violently open and two men entered hurriedly and pointing to the cards, said :
"We arrest you for gambling. The laws of the States are very strict in this matter."
Then confiscating the twenty-four hundred dollars, and also the cards, they turned a deaf ear to the pleadings of Isaacs.
1 88 Smiles and Tears
They told Mr. Jones that they did not wish to de- tain him, as he was apparently an honest man, but they must go for the marshal and make an ex- ample of the others.
Jones left with the man who went in search of the marshal (that is they went round to the back of the house and quietly slipped into the room where the reader first met them.
"I am sorry this has happened, sir, as I see you are a gentleman ; but we have a duty to perform and are determined to put down gambling. You are an Englishman, however, so am I, and I will get you out of this scrape."
"I have only twenty dollars left," said Day, think- ing the man wanted to be bribed to release him.
"Do not try to corrupt me; I will risk my own position to help you. Go quickly before the marshal arrives and I will take the consequences."
Grasping his arm and hurrying Captain Day to the door, he bade him get away with all speed.
Though it has taken some time to write, the whole of the above had occupied no more than five min- utes from the time Day entered the building to the time he left it.
He was bewildered at the suddenness of the whole affair. He felt he had been tricked, but could hardly persuade himself that the affable Mr. Jones had anything to do with it. He would have altered his mind if he could have peeped into the little
A Gambler 189
back room and seen the polite customs officer, the urbane Mr. Jones and the mythical marshal's as- sistants dividing Captain Day's eighteen hundred dollars and laughing over the gullibility of the ten- derfoot !
Juggling in White Horse Rapids
ELLA CUNNINGHAM
Juggling in White Horse Rapids
ELLA CUNNINGHAM
AT WHITE HORSE rapids, during the great Klondyke rush of 1898, many thrilling ex- " periences were encountered and many hair- breadth escapes resulted therefrom. Among these are none that illustrate rare presence of mind more than the case of a man who was taking his boat through alone.
When about half way through the rapids a huge breaker struck the side of the boat, swamping it and filling it with water. Fortunately, it still floated; and as the outfit was lashed in the boat, nothing was carried overboard except three sacks that had been left loose on top. The owner grasped at these, and as he had but two hands could catch only two of them. Nothing daunted, however, he would toss one into the boat, where it would be almost immedi- ately swept away again by a wave, while he caught the third one, recovering this in its turn only in time to seize the one that had just been washed from the boat.
194 Smiles and Tears
People on the banks shouted to him to let the sacks go and save himself; but he sat there, apparently cool and unconcerned, and kept those three sacks going like jugglers' balls, until a boat that had put out from shore just below the rapids could reach him and tow him safely to land. Here he was soon en- gaged in drying his outfit, along with other unfor- tunates "in the same boat," as unconcernedly as though his trip through the rapids were an everyday experience.
Was It a Dream
ALICE ROLLINS CRANE
Was It a Dream
ALICE ROLLINS CRANE
THOSE who have resided in the Klondyke and have attempted to stake and record a claim will understand the full significance of the following "dream."
Owing to many causes Dominion creek was staked with two "discoveries;" the creek was numbered most confusingly by the excited stampeders, the then cramped and inefficient gold commissioner's office could not cope with the conflicting evidence brought by the stakers, and the gold commissioner wisely "closed" the creek until the muddle could be straight- ened. Unfortunately this gave rise to much mis- understanding, many appeals to Ottawa and scores of schemes by which those on the "outside" could slyly stake and record. Pressure was brought to bear on Gold Commissioner Fawcett and Commis- sioner Major Walsh by their many friends, till at last certain portions of the creek were announced, by public notices, to be thrown open on a certain date for staking.
By some means or another several hundreds of
198 Smiles and Tears
people knew of the intention twenty-four hours be- fore the posting of the official circulars, and there was one of the wildest stampedes the world has ever seen. Men and women started out from Daw- son over nearly forty miles of the most vile trails, either up to their boot tops in slime, climbing jagged mountains, or fighting their way through tangled underbrush where they would consider themselves very fortunate if they escaped with nothing more than a few bruises.
The apparent secrecy with which the creek had been opened to these favored stampeders and the exaggerated richness of Dominion added a stimulus to the jaded crowd, though there was not enough ground to go round among one-quarter of those who went on that mad rush.
Many were laid up in road houses unable to re- turn to Dawson; some staggered to the recorder's office and had to wait for several days before they could gain admittance, only to find in many in- stances that one of the rival stakers had already recorded the claim he had staked!
The Government reserved fifty-nine claims for the Crown, varying from fractions of "one-foot four" (sixteen inches) to full claims of five hun- dred feet.
Every body thought that if they could only obtain! a claim on the much talked of Dominion their foiv tunes would be made.
Was it a Dream 199
During this excitement the following was written and entitled :
Was It a Dream
Many of the less superstitious, or perhaps less philosophical, say "there is nothing in dreams." Now, I am not going to assert that there is, but shall simply give the actual facts, and my readers may determine that matter for themselves.
The other night I had gone to bed and was fast asleep when suddenly I felt myself sinking, sinking, slowly but surely into some apparently empty void. Suddenly, without the slightest warning, I found myself standing in the vast corridor of some giant palace. Everything around me was lovely, the fur- nishings elegant, consisting of the most beautiful up- holstery, rugs, tapestry, etc. As my eyes became more accustomed to the brilliantly lighted room I noticed a young and pleasant faced imp, in natty attire of red and black livery, approaching me. As he walked he switched his tail in his right hand, much as a dude might use his cane.
He smiled at my visible perturbation, and as he came closer I stammered out:
"Where am I?"
With a broad grin he answered, although re- spectfully :
"My dear madam, you are in hell ?"
2oo Smiles and Tears
"Hell!" I cried, in blank astonishment. "If I am in hell how is it I see no fire and smell no brim- stone? Everything is grand and elegant. Why, hell is not bad !"
"O ! but you haven't been in all the rooms in this hostelry yet," and as he spoke he grinned and pointed to my left.
To my horror I saw in the distance a raging fire and, listening, could plainly hear the horrid out- cries of souls doomed to the flames. I could also plainly see Satan vigorously pitching fresh souls into the raging furnace, looking much as a thrifty farmer does in haying time. The horror of my position came fully to my senses, but in desperation I cried :
"I must have a word with his majesty as soon as he is at leisure. I suppose he is not always busy?"
"He does not have much spare time," was the re- ply; "he is occasionally relieved by Beelzebub. I will inform him madam waits his pleasure."
Leading me to a Turkish rocker, the horrid little imp vanished.
Absorbed in contemplation of the beautiful rooms and corridors I did not notice a catlike tread behind me until a voice at my elbow said:
"What can I do for madam?"
Looking up I beheld Satan smiling before me, rub- bing his fire-calloused hands until they grated like two pieces of sandpaper. His forked tail swung good-naturedly over the marble floor, while his sharp
V
Was it a Dream 201
pointed ears stood fierce and erect on his diminu- tive and wicked looking head.
"Mr. Satan," I said, in a cajoling voice, but some- what uneasily, "I must have made a mistake in get- ting here, but since I am in for it I should like to make some private arrangement by which I can secure one of these more comfortable apartments and escape treatment in the public bath I but lately ob- served."
"Your business and former residence, madam?" was his abrupt question.
"A newspaper correspondent, and lately of Daw- son," I said.
He echoed my reply and said :
"Ah, madam, you have suffered far too much already. It shall be my aim to minister to madam's pleasures and her desires, not to punish further."
"Then grant me one of these beautiful rooms opening into yon cool court," I rejoined.
"Yes, madam, I will do more; so much in fact, as to cause you to forget that you ever spent a winter in Dawson. Poor girl !" and he wiped away a salty tear with his asbestos handkerchief.
He politely offered me his arm and proceeded to escort me about the palace. After showing me all its beauties he said :
"Now, all this do I give you, and you shall be the queen of the nether world. Ask what you will and it shall be granted."
2O2 Smiles and Tears
[You may believe that this was a welcome relief to me, for I saw my earthly woes had touched the hitherto unsounded depths of sympathy of the old monarch's breast. But with that thought the old longing came back to me — the longing for the at- tainment of the object for which I had while on earth visited the icy and frozen fields of the north — and I could not but heave a sigh.
"Ah, madam is still unhappy," he continued. "Come!" and as we advanced the doors of a gor- geous dining room opened, and he led me into the midst of a vision of beauty and plenty such as I never witnessed before.
After seating ourselves at the table he touched a bell and every possible luxury was served.
"Eat, madam; bacon and beans will trouble you no more."
I partook of the food and thoroughly enjoyed it; but he must have seen, what I was ashamed to let him know, that I was still longing for some unat- tainable object.
"Speak, my dear !" he cried. "Have not I prom- ised to you the utmost of your wishes? Why doubt? Why fear? Speak and I will satisfy."
"I fear," I said, "O dread majesty, your power is insufficient to give me what I crave."
"And who puts bounds to my power? Speak, and it shall be yours," he cried somewhat testily.
"Then, Mr. Satan, please get me a claim, or only
Was it a Dream 203
a little 'fraction' of a claim, recorded between the two 'discoveries' on Dominion creek."
His jaw fell, the fire leaped from his eyes, his tail beat the floor, the lightning flashed and the palace rocked.
"Lost! lost!" he yelled. "The only thing the devil himself can't do is to record a fraction that the Canadian officials themselves want."
A lurid glare, a rattling peal, crashing walls, and I awoke bathed in a cold sweat, to hear someone pounding on my door and asking how far it was to the nearest roadhouse.
THE END.
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UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO LIBRARY
Crane, Alice Rollins (comp.)
Smiles and tears from the Klondyke