[Illustration: _The heart of Alaska in winter_]

 THE TRAIL OF A SOURDOUGH

 _Life in Alaska_

 BY

 MAY KELLOGG SULLIVAN

 _Author of "A Woman Who Went to Alaska"_

 [Illustration: ARTI et VERITATI]

 RICHARD G. BADGER THE GORHAM PRESS BOSTON

 Copyright 1910 by Richard G. Badger

 All Rights Reserved

 THE GORHAM PRESS, BOSTON, U. S. A. 

SOURDOUGH DEFINED

While the word _Sourdough_ (sour dough) is perfectly familiar to thosein Alaska and along the Pacific Coast it may not be amiss to give abrief explanation to our Eastern readers. 

A _Sourdough_ is a miner who has spent one winter in Alaska and "hasseen the ice go out. " Mrs. Sullivan is a _Sourdough_ herself. In all shehas made seven trips to Alaska extending over a period of ten years. 

When miners are beyond the pale of civilization, with a supply of flourbut no baking powder, yeast or potatoes, they cut from each batch ofbread dough a little piece, to be kept until it turns sour, and thenused as leaven for the next baking. 

It is through this custom that the miners themselves came to be calledsourdoughs. 

PREFACE

This little book is my second Brain-child. The first, entitled "A WomanWho Went to Alaska, " has been so cordially received by the readingpublic that I have been induced to send another in its footsteps. It iswith great pleasure and perfect confidence that I do this. 

To my Alaskan readers it is unnecessary to state that these little talesare deduced from every day life, as they are easily recognizable. Tothose not yet favored by a residence in this Northland I would say thatI have written each tale with a well defined purpose. With truthfulnesscould each one have been more vividly, yes startlingly, told; but I haveno wish to unduly disturb my readers. It has been my aim, however, topicture not only character, but also the vast and wonderful goldproducing region, so plainly that even the young may better know Alaska, and learn somewhat from glimpses of the trials, privations and successesof its early pioneers. 

To these last Trail-blazers no "_Chee-chako_" can ever do justice. Theircourage, bravery, patience under difficulties, and stoicism under severetrial can never be properly appreciated except by their fellowsufferers. 

My readers will find in the book much of the folklore and a touch of themysticism so common to all people of the northland. 

Counting myself one of the least among them I have been a witness totheir struggles and triumphs, and for this reason I do most heartilydedicate this little book to the memory of each horny-handed pack-ladenminer "musher" who has ever lifted a finger to assist, encourage, orstrengthen the author of The Trail of a Sourdough. 

The name of these helpers is Legion. That their cabins may be warm androomy, winter dumps high and numerous, sluice boxes filled with nuggets, and lives long and happy is the earnest wish of

 MAY KELLOGG SULLIVAN

CONTENTS

 CHAPTER PAGE

 _I The Miner's Reasons_ 11

 _II Under the Tundra_ 22

 _III The Hidden Ledge_ 44

 _IV A New Klondyke_ 81

 _V Estella the Eskimo_ 106

 _VI Why Midas Failed_ 132

 _VII The Old Stone House_ 172

 _VIII A Miner's Own Story_ 192

 _IX Eyllen's Water Witch_ 214

_ILLUSTRATIONS_

 _Page. _

 _The Heart of Alaska in Winter_ _frontispiece_

 _A Huskie_ 21

 _Dressed in his fresh miner's rig_ 25

 _A welcome shelter_ 43

 _The scene on shore was a repetition of that on the neighboring beach at Skagway_ 51

 _A Messenger of cheer_ 80

 _Panning out_ 105

 _Upon his mother's back, beneath her parkie_ 115

 _The little one clinging tightly to her hand she approached the door_ 121

 _The pretty woman was a full-blooded Eskimo_ _to face page_ 138

 _Poling up the river_ 171

 _When Old Tillie was Young_ 181

 _She scanned the horizon_ _to face page_ 216

 _"Holy Mother Mary! I believe it's gold"_ 223

 _Father Peter_ 229

 _The Lord of the Northland_ 258

_The cover design is a picture of Cape Nome, Alaska. _

The Trail of a Sourdough

CHAPTER I

THE MINER'S REASONS

A furious blizzard was raging. Six or eight miners of various ages werehuddled around the stove in a little road-house where they were likelyto remain storm-bound for several days. 

"Chuck some more wood into that bloomin' fire and fill up my pipe if youfellers want a yarn from me, " said one, when they had besieged him for astory with which to pass the time. 

"You wanted to know yesterday when I staked that claim for the woman, who and where she is, also my reasons for stakin' it; and I promised totell you when I got the chance. One or two of you grumbled considerableat my stakin' for a person away in the States, and maybe when I havefinished my story you won't feel any different; but I can't help it, andit is none of your ---- business. The deed is done, and well done, andRosa Nell (that ain't her name, as you can see by the initial stake ifyou want to dig it out from under the snow) is the half owner today ofone of the handsomest quartz ledges on the whole Seward Peninsula. Wallsof grey slate and trachyte, and the yellow stuff is good and plenty. Zounds, boys! I wish I had a bumper, " and the speaker threw his furrycap to the ceiling. 

"Never mind the bumper, pard, you know it's the last of March when nolive mining camp in this country has a thing but empty bottles to bumpwith. Behold the size of the glass dump outside yonder if you don'tbelieve me", remarked the keeper of the place in vindication of hishouse; but with sore regret in his voice. 

"The story, the story! We want the story", sang out one and another bythe stove, "the fire is just a whoopin' and 'twill soon be goin' out". 

"Well, then, here goes, " said the miner addressed. "It happened twoyears ago. I sold one of my Nome claims for fifteen hundred dollars withslight prospecting, (like a blasted fool that I was) and after blowin'in a good third or more of the money concluded to buy a thousand dollaroutfit and go to Norton Sound. It was late in October; the storms cameon, and the upshot of it was that we were ship-wrecked off the coast andwere finally put in at a small camp nearly a hundred miles from where wewanted to winter. I had taken two men with me named Long and Hartley, and though we saved, by hard fightin' in one way and another, the mostof our supplies, we were without shelter, except a couple of tents, withan Arctic winter--our first in this country, upon us. 

"Gee-Whilikins! Boys, it makes my black hair white to think of it! Whatwe suffered for two months in those tents was awful; for the camp wasfull and there was not a vacant cabin anywhere. If there had been, youknow we were absolutely without money to buy or build with. How I cursedmyself for havin' foolishly spent hundreds of dollars on 'box rustlers'at the Casino, --but that is another story, boys, so we'll pass it. 

"In our new camp we had many Eskimos and all kinds of people. Amongothers there was a little blue-eyed woman perhaps thirty years of age;maybe more--maybe less. She was also evidently not where she hadintended to be, just like ourselves, but was a teacher, left over fromsome stranded expedition, probably. Anyhow, there she was, and there wewere. We a-livin' in the tents, and the thermometer forty degrees belowzero. The teacher was stayin' with some of the Missionary folks only aquarter of a mile away, and she was all right. 

"In December the dogs of the camp began to go mad. Every few days one ortwo had to be killed. Some men, you know, don't water their dogs once insix weeks, if at all, and as everything is froze hard in winter, thepoor brutes go mad, exactly as in summer in the States, from heat. 

"One night, Long and I smoked in the little road-house close by, butHartley went to his bunk in the tent and turned in. He had not slept, but lay with closed eyes, he said, tryin' hard to get warm under his furrobe; when the tent flap was brushed aside, and in rushed a mad dog, snapping and foaming. At the first movement Hartley supposed we hadreturned to go to bed, but was instantly undeceived as the crazy brutemade directly for him. 

"Hartley threw out his hands and leaped from his bunk, seizing an axethat lay upon the floor. With that he made for the dog, and finallydrove him from the tent; but only after he had been badly bitten inseveral places. 

"The first we knew he rushed in, half dressed, where we were. He waspale with fright, covered with blood, and his eyes seemed starting fromtheir sockets. 

"Whiskey, for God's sake!' he pleaded, panting for breath. 'Hydrophobia, and so far from home. This is hard lines, ain't it, boys?' betweengulps, the blood dripping from the hand that tremblingly held the glass. 

"With that he broke down utterly and cried like a baby. We washed anddressed his wounds as best we could, and put him to bed in theroad-house as it was then past midnight, while three of the boys riggedthemselves in their furs and hunted the blasted brute that had done themischief. They found him gnashing his teeth alongside an outhouse, and agood dose of cold pills settled him forever. 

"Next mornin' we sent a man to the little teacher to ask for medicinefor Hartley, and immediately she and another woman came over. Theybrought lint bandages, carbolic acid, and other things and bathed thewounds; but, best of all, they cheered up the poor fellow by telling himthat he need have no fear of hydrophobia, as the bite of the Eskimo dogsin winter does not have the same effect that the bite of other dogs hasin hot weather. By the repeated visits and ministrations of the women, poor Hartley, in a few weeks, recovered. 

"However, the little teacher was not satisfied. She knew we must sufferterribly in our tents, and wanted us to make other arrangements. At lastshe thought of a plan for us: An old log school-house, long sincedeserted for the new one built near by, was unused except as astore-room. This building had been originally made warm and tight bymoss chinking, a heavy door, and closely caulked windows. Some of thelatter were now broken, and the snow sifted in upon the dirt floor, butthese things could be remedied. 

"The little woman had planned it all before we knew it. She had askedand gained consent of the owners before she opened her story up to us. The baggage then in the cabin was to be piled in one corner, thewindows were to be mended as well as possible along with the chimney inthe middle of the roof; and for a trifling consideration each month wewere to have the use of the building. It was a god-send to three menonly partly sheltered by canvas in January, latitude sixty-five; and ifyou don't believe me, boys, just try tents yourselves next winter, andfind out. 

"Did we spend the remainder of the winter in that old school-house? Youbet we did. After puttin' considerable time on the old chimney, makin'some new stove-pipe and a patent damper of our own from coal-oil cans, and usin' the sides of some of the same in place of glass in thewindows, we did get fixed some sort of comfortable. Anyhow, we had ahouse over our heads that could not blow down in a blizzard, and a soliddoor which kept out mad dogs at night. To be sure, when the spring rainscame, the roof of turf, upon which the grass began to grow, leaked inseveral places; but we spread our canvas tent over it, weighted it downwith stones at the corners, and got along finely. 

"The gist of my story is still to come. One day along in February thelittle woman sent for me. She wanted to see me very particular, themessenger said. When I saw her a few minutes later her eyes were shinin'like stars in the night time. She wanted me to go with another man tostake a creek about fifteen miles to the north of us. She had heard fromsome source that the creek was good. 

"Would I go the next day if she furnished the outfit? Of course I said, yes, and our plans were hastily laid for the next day. We had sometrouble to get good dogs for the trip, and before our preparations werecompleted the whole camp was onto our racket and wanted to go along. 

"Now, you know on such occasions, above all others, one does not wantthe whole country at one's heels, so we tried our best to shake them. Wepostponed our trip until the second day; the women in the meantimegettin' our grub cooked. We then took the bells off our dog collars andpacked our sleds behind closed doors; but it was no go. In spite of allour precautions three dog-teams followed our trail as we slippedstealthily out of camp at midnight. The moon shone brightly and thesnow was not too deep. The boys kept at a respectful distance behind us, and we mushed along between low hills mostly up the streams on the ice. 

"To make my story shorter, we staked what we wanted of the creek, andlet the other fellows in on what was left. After that, without sleeping, but with a hasty meal, we put back home again as fast as our dogs wouldtravel. 

"Three months later, when the snow was about gone, and we thought thetime ripe for prospectin', I took my two men and an outfit and gave thatblamed old creek a fair trial. We hustled and rustled to beat the band. We shovelled, panned, built dams, and worked like beavers in water aboveour knees. We moved our tents further up on the bank at midnight at therisin' of the creek durin' a hard rain--but, egad! after two weeks ofthat sort of thing, no gold could we find. Not a color! We cursed andtore around something fierce among the Queen's English, but it did nothelp matters a particle. 

"There was no gold there. 

"When we reported to the little woman she would not believe a word ofit. She did not think we had tried to find it. Perhaps we had not gonedeep enough. We should have waited until midsummer when we could havedone better work; and a lot of other things of like description. When Iinsisted that we had done the very best we possibly could, and thatthere was positively no gold there, she still persisted in sayin' shewanted that bunch of claims recorded. In vain I told her it was no use;the creek was no good, and to record the claims was a waste of money. 

"While I talked, the little woman stood lookin' in an absent-minded waybefore her. When I had finished she turned toward me with considerablespirit, and almost with anger said, the tears comin' into her eyesmeanwhile, 'I will never again ask you to stake a claim for me, sothere! and she ran into the next room and shut the door. 

"The claims were never recorded. 

"Well, boys, she kept her word, and I wish she hadn't. I would bewillin' to let her pick out creeks for me forever, for, say, let me tellyou, fellows, " dropping his voice and taking the pipe from between histeeth he knocked its ashes out upon the cold hearth, "that creek bed wassolid stream tin; pure cassiterite, the best on the Seward Peninsula, and a whole fortune for anyone; but we did not know it. 

"Next time a woman like that one tells me to do any recordin' of claimsI'll do it, you bet; for somehow, I can't explain it, but there areothers besides Eugene Field's kids who are good at 'seein' things atnight, ' and a woman can sometimes feel things that we fellows can't seein broad daylight. 

"Now you have my reasons for stakin' for her yesterday. If any of youfellows want to kick at what I have done, you can just take it out inkickin'--yourselves. Our new ledge is a jim-dandy; and seem' as Icheated the woman out of her cassiterite, I'm bound to make it good inyellow gold. 

"But I'm goin' to turn in now, boys, and I'll listen to you to-morrow. Good night. "

[Illustration]

CHAPTER II

UNDER THE TUNDRA

In a little three-room cabin in Nome, a middle-aged woman, wearingglasses, knitted a gray woollen sock for her boy, as she called him. 

"Yes", she said musingly, "my husband and I came here during the rush of1900. My son, Leroy, had come the year before to pave the way for us, ashe called it, and this he tried his best to do. He staked some goldclaims and a town lot, and put up a one-room cabin, building on to thelatter after we arrived. His idea was to get his father and me away fromthe farm (which he hated) and start us in mining in Alaska, he beingexceedingly enthusiastic on this subject and positive that we wouldenjoy it as well as he did. "

At the conclusion of this introduction to the story the woman laid downher knitting and pushed her glasses up to the top of her head. Then withan amused expression about the corners of her mouth, she said:

"The story of all the actual mining that Pa Morrison and I ever did isnot a long one, but it is one he would much rather I did not oftenrelate. However, as you wish to hear it, and he is too busy at hisbook-keeping in the next room to know what is going on, I will tell youhow we began mining in Alaska. 

"We had landed safely upon the beach with all our necessary belongings, as well as feather-beds and pillows, also fruit-cake and other goodthings for Christmas. My son had met us with open arms and shown us withmuch pleasure to his tiny cabin on a nearby street. To this place allour boxes were in due time hauled by dog-team, and a big tent set uptemporarily alongside the cabin. 

"While unpacking articles to be immediately used we had not forgottenour mining tools, gold pan, picks and shovels, as well as rubber boots, and all were spread out in fine array in the sunshine beside the tent. 

"Much of our clothing had been especially selected with a view to ournew occupation, and there were dozens of new blue and brown denimjumpers and overalls, bandana handkerchiefs, woollen socks and shirtsfor Pa, as well as short, warm dresses and stout aprons for me. 

"To enumerate all would take too long. Enough to say that in our anxietyto get to work at the real object of our coming, we rushed theadjustment of affairs in our camp through with all speed, and two daysafter landing at Nome, Pa and I started out to do some mining on our ownhook upon our first gold claim. "

Here the woman paused to take breath, and picking up her knitting toinspect it for a moment, seemed somewhat reluctant to proceed. 

"Was the claim far from town?" some one asked, in order to bring herback to her narrative, and at the same time not to appear too anxious. 

"Oh, no, " she said, brightening considerably. "Leroy is always such agood and thoughtful fellow, and he had selected this cabin for us nearthe west end of town, close to the cemetery, on the tundra. It was onlya short walk for us, he said, and the ground must, undoubtedly, be rich, as much gold had been taken out of the beach-diggings next the tundrawhere our claim was located. 

[Illustration: "_Dressed in his fresh miner's rig_"]

"It was reported that the beach contained from one to three pay streaksbefore a depth of three feet was reached; that nuggets worth as muchas twenty dollars were found in the beach-diggings, and the tundra wasgood pay dirt from the 'grass roots down'. 

"Well, my husband and I started for the claim, as I said--we startedSnake River bridge, Pa paying his ten cents toll, while I went acrossfree as was the custom that summer, and we trudged down the road on thesandspit to the cemetery. Dressed in his fresh miner's rig, (that was anaccidental pun) taken so lately from our big packing boxes, Pa marchedwith all the dignity a man of his height and thinness can assume, with agold pan under one arm, and a shiny pick and shovel upon his shoulder. Ifollowed close behind. "

At this stage of the story Mrs. Morrison cast a quick glance at the doorof the adjoining room where her husband was writing. Then opening atable drawer close at hand, she took out two kodak views and handed themto her listeners. 

"He must not know where I keep these pictures or he would burn them assure as fate; I have dubbed them 'before and after'. "

They examined the views she handed them. A stout, resolute lookingwoman with a pleased expectant countenance, short dress, huge basket onright arm. The man beside her holding his broad brimmed miner's hat inhis hands, his unused gold pan, pick and shovel, at his feet. For abackground a tent, a bit of the river, and bridge. 

In the "After" picture the scene was changed. Dejection was depicted onboth faces. Their clothing was soiled and their implements had seenusage, but were now flung upon the ground in disorder. 

"A friend took these snap-shots of us, " she explained, returning thephotos to their places, "and Leroy likes to preserve them 'just for fun'he says. 

"To go back to my story, we made our way along as best we could byinquiring (for Leroy had been obliged to go to the creeks to attend tosome work in progress; so could not go with us; in fact, he did not knowof our intention of sallying out upon the tundra), and finally arrivedat the cemetery. We spent little time in looking at the few rudehead-boards and scattered mounds of those quiet sleepers by the sea, butbestowed more attention upon the beach-miners on our left. Here, at theedge of the water, and even standing in the surf, were many men at work, beach-mining with Long-Toms' or other contrivances, and all worehigh-topped rubber boots. 

"Looking about for the claim in which we were so much interested, wefinally found the corner stakes, and the St. Charles cream can in whichthe location notice had been placed by Leroy a few months before. 

"Then Pa wanted me to read the paper to him, which I did, after seatingmyself on a big hummock of tundra and properly adjusting my spectacles. 

"The paper ran thus: 'We, the undersigned citizens of the United States, have discovered placer gold in the ground hereinafter described, andhereby claim for placer-mining purposes twenty acres on the tundra westof Nome and 100 feet north of the cemetery. ' Then followed the distancebetween stakes, the name of the witness, our own names, and that ofLeroy as our agent, the date of the location, etc. 

"By this time Mr. Morrison was hungry. So after replacing the locationnotice on the initial stake under the old cream can, just as we foundit, we lunched heartily on ham sandwiches, doughnuts, pie and cheese. Aquart bottle of coffee had added much to the weight of the basket on theway. 

"We now turned our attention to the tundra. Of what was it composed? Howdeep was it? Was it easily handled? Would it burn? Was it wet? And howlarge an extent of country, or rather territory, did it cover. Thesewere only a few of the questions that Pa Morrison now flung at me inquick succession, leaning as he did meanwhile on the handle of theshovel. 

"I grew impatient. 

"'I really cannot answer your questions, Pa Morrison, and you know it;but as to the extent of the tundra I think I can safely say that itcovers the whole of this gold claim and a good deal more besides, for Ican see as far as the hills yonder without my glasses that it all looksalike, ' and I tugged with might and main at some small trailing vinesimbedded in the deep mosses. 

"'As to the depth of this tundra you have the shovel in your hands andcan soon investigate if you see fit to do so', I continued as Pa stillstood looking dubiously about him without so much as making a jab withhis shovel. 

"'Then there is the composition of this tundra to be studied. If Iunderstood the flora of Alaska I would give you the desired informationquick, but I don't, and I am too old to begin to study it now. Ibelieve, however, that I can tell a gold nugget when I see it, and ifyou will bestir yourself and turn up a few, I will agree to analyze themto your heart's content, ' giving him what was meant to be a conciliatorysmile which was entirely lost because he never looked my way. 

"With that he set to work. Down into the deep moss and tangled vines ofthe tundra he plunged that new and shining shovel with force enough tojar the teeth out of his head. This was kept up for fully ten minutes, while I rummaged around among the hummocks for the lovely many coloredmosses, and mentally tried to count the different kinds of tiny plants, numbers of which were blossoming in artistic colors and profusion underour feet. 

"'Mary. '

"'Yes, Pa. '

"'Do you think a hole four feet square instead of six would be bigenough?'

"'O, yes, certainly. Anything, if it is only one foot square, ' said I, sarcastically, for I had a consuming anxiety to get down to thosenuggets which lay 'just at the grass roots' and Pa was so awfully slow. 

"We had talked this matter over the day before, and had decided upon ahole six feet square. 

"'If I were in your place, Mary, I wouldn't be too smart, ' said hetestily, and then rested again upon the shovel handle. His face wasflushed and heated. He breathed hard. Dead silence for a long minute. 

"'I wish I'd brought the axe, ' said he. 

"'What for?'

"'To cut these beastly vines and roots with. '

"'Dear me! Shall I go home and fetch it?'

"'No, you needn't', crossly. 'By the time you got here with it you wouldhave to go right back to get supper. It is half past one o'clock now, and I have been at work an hour. '

"'But you were going to work all day, weren't you?' He had scarcely madean impression on that tundra, and not a single nugget had we seen. 

"With that he planted a few more good, hard jabs into the thicket ofmoss, vines and leaves, trying to get the hole four feet square anyway, after my rather uncalled for taunt about its size. 

"In the meanwhile I was not wasting my time. I was using the pick upon acluster of bunch grass hummocks, wishing to fill the gold pan with dirtfrom underneath that I might wash it out and see if it contained'colors'. 

"Somehow I felt more subdued like, perhaps because I was growing tired;but Pa seemed to be affected differently. I could hear him grumbling tohimself, and that was a bad sign. By and by his shovel struck somethinghard. He uttered an oath. 

"'Pa Morrison!' I exclaimed, 'Ain't you ashamed of yourself? To think ofyour swearing like that. It's awful! Give me that shovel instantly. '

"'I won't!'

"'Give me that shovel, I say, ' for we were both church members and hadbeen for many years, and I was inexpressibly shocked at his profanity, and wished to remove the cause. 

"'Shut your head, Mary Morrison! Whose doing this mining, will you tellme?'

"'O, of course you are, but then I wanted to help you if I could, 'trying to speak quietly and coming close enough to take the instrumentof dispute from his hand if he would let me. 

"No reply. 

"'What did you strike, Pa, that made the shovel ring just now?'

"'Shovel!--ring!--It was ice! bloomin', blasted, infernal ice, I tellyou, ' he shouted in a rage, standing in black muck almost to his knees, with the same material bespattered over him from head to foot. Indeedhis red and perspiring face showed a couple of great, black smircheswith which he had unknowingly beautified himself. 

"He was fairly sizzling with wrath. 'Git down here yourself, and go towork, and see how you like it, ' he shouted excitedly, forgetting hisEnglish and everything but that we had encountered an astonishingly hardproposition, and it had gotten the best of us. Like an old clock he waswound up and could not stop. 

"'No gold, no nuggets, no grass roots even; nothing but muck and ice!'and another mouthful of big, strong words gurgled from that man's lipslike water from an uncorked jug. 

"'Don't, Mr. Morrison, don't do that, ' said I, in a voice cold as theice in that four foot hole, 'you may be heard by some one who willreport you to the church trustees, and then you will be expelled. Atyour age it would be a positive disgrace. '

"'Shut your mouth, I tell you, ' he yelled, 'I ain't no baby! I know whatI'm doing, and I know what I want to do, but it ain't mining on thisconfounded tundra!'

"At this I clapped my hands over my ears to shut out such language, buthe kept on just the same. 

"'Did we lease our farm for a whole year with all the machinery andstock, pack up our household furniture and come three thousand milesover this water like the blooming old idiots we are, to dig in amuckhole full of ice? Did we tell our banker that he should have thevery first gold we took out of the ground to pay the two hundred dollarmortgage on our town lots? Does this look much like lifting mortgagesfrom anything?'

"As I made no reply he insisted, 'Does it, I say?'

"'No, Pa Morrison, it doesn't, ' I admitted, 'but wait a minute and letme talk. '

"'Well, ain't you talking now?' he rejoined irritably. 

"Without noticing his exasperating words or tone I said calmly:

"'I remember hearing Leroy say when we first arrived that the tundra isa hard and peculiar proposition. Many have failed at mining it, but tothose who go to work at it in the right way, at the proper time it willprove a bonanza. Now, probably you and I have not gone at it properly. '

"A surly silence ensued, during which Pa worked slowly, with anythingbut a good grace. Leroy was right. The tundra was a hard and peculiarproposition. Nothing like it had we ever seen before. For miles on threesides of us it spread itself like a carpet of green, dotted often withtiny pools of clear water, shining like glass in the June sunshine. Miles away to the northward rolled the smooth-topped hills, only one ofthem bearing a small, rocky crest; while further away, and forming abackground to these, lay the snow-tipped Sawtooth. "

To the south of us and close at hand spread the wonderful waters uponwhose broad and beautiful bosom we had so lately sailed, and whosegently sweeping surf was today making sweet music among the sands andpebbles on the beach. 

"Many ships lay at anchor beyond. However, it was neither the scenery, nor the water, nor the ships that we were now called upon to consider;but a layer of ice, the depth of which we did not know, lying between usand the much desired golden nuggets. The ground lay level and open tothe sun, with nothing to prevent its thawing except this peculiarblanket of tundra mosses, vines, and plants, which formed an insulatoras perfect as if made to order. It was now the middle of June. There wasno doubt but that the ice would remain as it was all summer. 

"Giant powder might possibly be used, but it was dangerous andexpensive. I would never allow Father to handle the stuff. Better let itall go forever. Probably Pa was right about our being foolish to comehere. We could go home again as many people were doing. There lay thesteamers making preparations to sail; but how our friends at home wouldlaugh at us!

"On the other hand was it not too soon to pronounce on this tundra, andreally no fair trial of the ground or mining? Then, too, our sonprobably had his own plans for us which must be more intelligent ones, for had he not had some experience and a year's residence in this place?

"There were the creek claims, besides. They must surely be verydifferent and easier to work. 

"Reasoning thus I had wandered away a short distance by myself in orderto let Pa's temper cool, and had forgotten the panning I had startedout to do. 

"I now returned. Taking up the gold pan I filled it with dirt and muckfrom the four foot hole taken directly above the objectionable ice, andthough I found its weight almost more than I could carry, and Pa did notoffer to help me in the least, I carried it to a small pool of water atno great distance and began to pan it. 

"How heavy it was to be sure. There might be gold in it yet. I would seepresently. I had watched men panning on the beach that morning and Ibelieved I could do it as it appeared very easy. 

"Immersing the pan in the water, after pinning my skirts carefullyhigher, I began the rotary motion so necessary to separate the gold fromthe sand and dirt. A moment of this employment and I was breathingheavily and felt very warm. I put the pan down and flung off mysun-bonnet, pulling my sleeves a notch higher before continuing. Againthe rotary movement with various dips of the edge of the big pan to letthe waste material pass away. Small pebbles showed themselves and had tobe picked out, the heavier material sinking in the natural order ofthings, to the bottom. 

"I was watching the outcome with great interest, though panting forbreath and covered with perspiration. Suddenly the soft earth under myright foot gave way, and I found myself, gold pan and all, in the mudand water up to my knees. 

"I thought of Pa and his recent profanity, but I shut my teethresolutely together, wringing out the edges of my petticoats and pullingmy rubber boot tops still higher. 

"Fishing for the gold pan I brought it to light. Of course its contentswere lost, my hands and clothes were muddied and my efforts wasted; butI would not give it up yet. 

"Another pan of the same material was brought and a second trial wasmade, with success this time as the pan was not filled so full. 

"Finally, after shaking, twisting, dipping, picking out pebbles, washingoff sand, and resting a moment at intervals, it was finished. 

"There was gold in the pan. 

"A few small 'colors', bright and shining as if made so by much scouringof beach sand, appeared in the bottom of the gold pan to gladden mylonging eyes, and I hastened to show them to Pa Morrison, whose head andshoulders were still visible in that four foot hole. 

"'Humph!' said he, in much disgust, as I exhibited the result of mylabors. 'Is that all?'

"'Why, yes. '

"'And no nuggets?'

"'No nuggets. '

"At that he flung the pick he had been using in the ice upon the ground. 

"'I'm going home', he said shortly. 

"Now I hardly knew whether he intended to say he was going to the UnitedStates, or to the little cabin and tent on Front Street, but rather thanrun the risk of exploding another bomb of wrath like the last one byasking a question, I kept quiet and made preparations to go back to ourtent. 

"On the beach we washed our hands and smoothed our clothing as best wecould; but the frown which had lodged on Pa's forehead remained. 

"That evening when Leroy had returned from his work and we had eaten oureight o'clock supper with the sun still shining very brightly upon thetent, the boy lighted his pipe and asked for the story of the day'sdoings. 

"I then gave it from the beginning. When I reached Pa's discovery of theice in the prospect hole on the tundra, Leroy laughed heartily. Thenseeing the aggrieved look on his father's face, and, I suppose, abothered one on my own, he became more serious, and drawing closer, tookmy hand in both of his. 

"'I never intended you to begin mining in that way, Mother, ' he said, simply, in a low voice. 'I want you here to help me keep house, to mendmy clothes, to bake bread and fry griddle cakes, and do the many littlethings for Father and me that only you can do. In this way I can keep myhealth and give all my time to my mining. '

"'I want you, Father, ' he continued, laying his hand affectionately onhis pa's knee, 'to do my book-keeping, reckoning the time and wages ofmy men at work on the claims. Accounts of assessment work on twentyclaims, besides new prospecting in different localities, will give yousomething to do after cutting the kindling for Mother; and neither ofyou need feel that you are useless nor idle. Part of these gold claimsare yours, and in your own names, and you can both make short 'mushing'trips of inspection over the country when you like; though the newrailroad up Anvil will be finished in a few weeks, and then you canride. Under no consideration must either of you think for one moment ofbuying steamer tickets back to the States inside of a year. At the endof that time we will be taking out so much gold that you will not wishto leave, I assure you. I am almost thirty years old now, Mother, andyou and Father are all I have, ' he said softly, pressing my hand. 

"Then I kissed his forehead and promised to stay, and I have never beensorry. Father said he would try it a year, and then see about stayinglonger, and here we are still in Nome after four years without oncegoing 'outside'. 

"And you like it here?" they asked. 

"Very much indeed, because our ground is turning out finely, and Leroyis so good to us. 

"About that tundra claim, however, nothing was ever done. Pa could neverbe induced to step his foot upon it again, and being so determined inthe matter, we just let it drop. 

"There it is yet, St. Charles cream can, stakes, and all; but the fourfoot hole, with its icy foundations, is nowhere to be seen, having beenlong ago levelled by wind and weather. "

[Illustration]

CHAPTER III

THE HIDDEN LEDGE

The summer of 1897 was a memorable one in the great Northwest. It wasthen that the first authentic news of the immense richness of theKlondyke region became public. Less than a dozen persons had wintered onBonanza and Eldorado, the famous gold creeks discovered by Carmack inSeptember, 1896, and these reported the marvelously rich "strikes. "Certain weighty moose-hide sacks they carried, confirmed their stories. 

Two weeks later the docks of the principal cities on the sunset coastpresented a changed appearance. All was hurry and flurry. Ships beingloaded to the deck rails were moored by their great hawsers alongsidedocks groaning under immense freight deposited upon them. The rush andclatter of drays and wagons united in one deep, deafening roar. Thesehuge masses of freight and baggage presented the same generalappearance. Everything with which to begin mining life in a new andbarren country was there. Dog sleds and fur robes, heavy army sackscrammed to their drawstrings with Mackinaw and rubber clothing, bootsand shoes, boats, tents, dogs and horses, piles of lumber for boatbuilding, coils of rope, dog harness and bales of hay, while fat yellowcoated hams bulged in heaps both gay and greasy in the summer sun asthough further frying were unnecessary. 

There were mining tools heaped in corners or against the walls ofwarehouses, being stacked too high to safely keep their places ifjostled ever so lightly. New and clean gold pans, one inside another, towered roofward among outfits of aspiring tradespeople of theprospective camps in the Klondyke; these same rich men in embryo beingalso the proprietors of the closely piled sacks of flour, meal andbeans, along with hundreds of cases of butter, eggs and cream, _adinfinitum_. 

Among the hurrying, excited men preparing for departure an undesirablylarge number were those anxiously caring for bottle-filled cases andblack barrels, cumbrous and heavy enough to have been already crammedwith Klondyke gold; but in reality being full to the brim of that which(their owners prognosticated) would relieve them of using pick andshovel, and bring them without effort after their arrival in the newdiggings all the shining gold they could want to handle. It concernedthem little that they would give in exchange for all this wealth onlythat which would deplete the pockets, befuddle the brains and steal thewits of the deluded purchasers, making them in every case less able tocope with adverse conditions so desperate in this new, untried, andremote region. 

These men walked, well dressed and pompous, among their goods andchattels on the great and busy wharves in the hot sunshine, moppingtheir perspiring brows and fat cheeks, which latter, like those of wellkept porkers, adorned their rubicund faces. Across their broadwaistcoats dangled glittering ropes and "charms" of tawdry composition, well suited to the ankles of a chaingang, so heavy were they; and fromspotless white shirt fronts there shone jewels (?) of enormous size andcheapness. 

Above the din was heard at short intervals on the steamer's deck therattle of machinery, dropping huge, freight-laden nets or baskets intothe hold. Upon the wharves hustled blackened stevedores, flushed andpanting, reeking with perspiration and tobacco juice, but straining, tugging, lifting until one could almost imagine he heard their musclessnap; resolutely and steadily laboring hour after hour, until at last, wearied beyond further endurance, they gave way to others who sprangenergetically into their places. 

It was little past midsummer. A large ship of the collier class, latelyfitted in the roughest possible manner for carrying passengers toAlaska, lay alongside the dock in the great town of S. Hundreds ofpeople waited on shore to catch the latest glimpse of friends about toleave them, while a round thousand of those eager to "strike it rich" inthe new Klondyke swarmed over the vessel. 

Of these, many, no doubt, would never return. It was a sad day, andbrightened only by that hope without which the world would be undone. 

Upon their arrival in the quiet little sea of Lynn three days later allhands were cheered because this indicated the end of their uncomfortablevoyage; and even if new discomforts awaited them, they would, at least, be those occurring on shore and under broad heavens, in pure, cool air, where the fetid atmosphere of ship's steerage quarters was unknown. 

But alas! When the dense fog lifted, and the sun with diffidence peepedthrough its grey and watery veil, the sight that met the eyes of theexpectant argonauts was grand but not reassuring. Mountains rose towondrous heights above and on all sides of them, while those directly infront, and barring them from their desired route and destination insheer contrariety loomed heaven-high, as though they would rend theazure sky with their jagged and snowy peaks. Steep and precipitous rosethe sides of those giant hills directly from the water's edge exceptwhere, at the foot of the Grand Canyon, trending northward, a smalltract of wet and boggy land dejectedly spread itself. Between this andthe anchored vessel upon the decks of which stood the thousand would-beminers the waters of old Lynn rose and fell with an ocean's pulsing, atthe same time quietly moving in their accustomed way among the beachsands and shingle. No soothing lap of the waters against the sides ofthe vessel consoled these unromantic men. There were no docks or wharvesat Skagway. The immense ship's cargo must be unloaded into small boatsor hastily built scows to be towed ashore over the shallow waters. Itwas the beginning of a gigantic undertaking, and many, hearing of a moredesirable landing-spot and a quicker, easier mountain pass further on, kept with the ship to Dyea. But the same low and lazily lapping waterssurrounded them as at Skagway. Tides rose and fell, and, at their ownwill, fogs settled and lifted. 

By turns rain came, winds blew, and the sun shone, the latter in asubdued and apparently reluctant manner, as in winter on the shores ofold Puget. 

At this stage of affairs there was no further postponement of an evilday possible, and the remaining voyagers with their freight were hustledon shore with as much expedition as was permissible with a few barges, flat-bottomed fishing boats, and Indian canoes. 

With their faraway homes behind them, and the top of lowering mountainsoften hidden by storm-clouds before them, these hundreds of daringargonauts faced the hardships of a trail, and life in an Alaskanmountain wilderness; their own backs and those of a few pack animalsbeing the only means of transporting many tons of necessary suppliesinto the vast interior to which they journeyed. 

To say that the courage of no man failed at the prospect would beuntrue; but none liked to appear to his fellows to weaken, andnotwithstanding the disheartening outlook, all set to work with a willuntil the hold of the great ship was entirely empty and her waterlinehad risen many feet above the ripples of Lynn. 

The scene on shore was a repetition of that on the neighboring beach atSkagway, separated from it, however, by glittering peaks, the snows ofwhich were melted daily by the sun and warm wind and found their way instreams down ravines and canyons, across glaciers and around boulders, dropping lower and still lower to the moraines near salt water. 

Busy indeed was the scene now presented. Colonies of canvas tents weregrouped upon the beaches close above the high water mark where theoutfits of the travelers had been hastily dumped. Camp fires crackledand Indian fishermen traded fresh salmon for tobacco; but the tiredand already mud-bedraggled prospectors slept heavily upon the damp, coldground when too much exhausted to proceed further with their "packing. "

[Illustration: _The scene on shore was a repetition of that on theneighboring beach at Skagwan_]

The race was now on. With many it was a race to their death. On sight ofthe struggle at closer range, men formed themselves into groups orpartnerships, thinking thus to simplify and make easier the crossingwith their heavy outfits these tremendous mountains. In some instancesthis was a wise precaution, but in many more cases it was followed byfailure to work harmoniously together, and profanity, bad feeling, andquarreling ensued. 

Like fish in their native element, or vampires living off others, so thefat and rubicund-visaged owners of the bulky, black barrels beforementioned, flourished on the needs, discouragements and extremity oftheir brothers. Booths and shacks were expeditiously erected above theirbarrels dumped out upon the sands, counters and rude seats wereprovided, while flaring, staring cloth signs were flung out informingall that this was "The Shelter", "Tommy's Place", or "Your OwnFireside", in order to allure the cold, weary and disheartened travelersinto the saloons. Here, in exchange for their money, they were givenpoisonous and adulterated liquors, imbibing which, with empty stomachsand discouraged hearts, they became ill-natured and selfish, as well asin a chronic state of internal drought. 

At Skagway the army of "stampeders" swarmed up into the mountains. Following the Skagway River northward up the Grand Canyon, theirdifficult trail crossed and recrossed the bed of the stream many times. With small trees "corduroy" bridges were hastily thrown down in spotsmade impassable by bogs and the continued tread of hundreds of hurryingfeet. With quick, impatient axe strokes men struck at overhanging andobstructing trees and vines. On all sides hung huge boulders and cliffslike pouting, protruding lips, as if the mountains had been shaken intoshape by some subterrane force and resented even yet their roughtreatment. Mosses hung from tree trunks, and vines thickly blanketed therocks and ledges between which dashed sparkling waterfalls in haste tojoin the Skagway below. It mattered not if the hot noonday sun at timesentered these fastnesses; it served only to cheer the hearts of littlebirds and animals, and bring to pestiferous life millions of mosquitoesand flies to torment both day and night the unfortunate toilers on theWhite Pass Trail. 

These toilers worked in desperation. Their mad haste was infectious. Menliterally tumbled over each other on the trail in their eagerness to putthe Passes behind them. Every man carried strapped upon his back as muchof a load as it was possible for him to carry, and often times more, with the not infrequent result that they dropped beneath their packs onthe trail. In like manner they loaded the animals they drove beforethem, and here was exhibited man's awful inhumanity to the dumb brutes. Pack horses, mules and dogs, loaded to top-heaviness and cinched untilone could almost hear their bones crack, climbed, straining, struggling, panting, wild eyed and steaming from over-exertion under the lash ofangry and profane drivers, until they sank to their haunches, helplessand exhausted, in some quagmire. Such common misfortune necessitatedthe unloading of the poor beast at the loss of time and patience, notonly of his own driver, but those following, as any obstruction to thisnarrow trail was greeted with extreme disfavor. 

Language both bad and bitter was hourly exchanged between men on thisstrenuous stampede to the Klondyke in the fall of '97. Animosities wereborn which die only when hearts in men's bosoms are forever stilled. Feuds were here originated, which if not settled with firearms wereended in ways as deadly afterwards. 

Conditions on the Chilkoot were identical. "Tenderfeet" were there astender, and the way as rough, even if a trifle shorter than that overthe White Pass. Nor were the tempers of the Chilkoot argonauts betterthan those of their neighbors. 

One root of the matter was not far to seek. Had they been content toleave liquors untouched, nerves would have been less often jarred, patience would not have become so soon exhausted, while brains wouldhave been clearer to plan, foresee, and execute. Not every man drankliquors. There were numbers whose strongest stimulant was the fragrantcoffee, or water from the mountain springs; and these were among thequiet, helpful ones who plodded patiently and industriously; lending akindly hand to some unfortunate fallen comrade or animal along therock-bound trail. They, too, were the ones who soonest reached the firstobjective point of their journey--the end of mountaineering at Bennett, from which place their boats would carry them into the Klondyke. 

Among hundreds of others two travelers one day trudged with heavy packsupon their backs, each following his loaded mule, which, once placed inthe long line of men and animals, wending their way toward themountains, would not, in self-defense choose to deviate from thatcourse. 

Both men were strong, of middle age, and with money and supplies enoughto take them into the gold fields. After landing at Skagway they decidedto go into partnership, chiefly for the purpose of receiving assistance. 

Little thought was given by either to the help he was to render hispartner; and although they had now been but a few days together, eachhad already reminded the other of some fancied duty to himself; whichact, often repeated, will sometimes stir up unpleasantly the muddywaters of men's souls. After having gotten a late start from Skagway, they had gone only about two miles up the Canyon when both men and mulesseemed too much fagged to proceed further without rest, and as night wasclose upon them they decided to make camp. 

Turning to the west side of the Canyon they moved laboriously amongfallen logs, boulders and driftwood, and through the tangle of vines, ferns, and foliage which also barred their way. 

When they were well out of sight of their trail companions they foundthemselves close under a huge wall of rock in the steep mountain sidewhich made a quiet spot for camping. 

Selecting an open space between trees, the packs of all were depositedupon the ground. Men and mules now breathed deeply, and rested strainedmuscles, so chafed beneath the heavy and unaccustomed packs. 

"Give the mules enough rope, but fasten 'em tight, Smithson, " said one, "we don't want 'em wanderin' away and we havin' to hunt 'em up. Time istoo precious on this trail, and there are too many fellows aroundwishin' fur just such mules. We'd have a dandy time hiking it over thePass with our four tons of grub all on our backs, wouldn't we?"

"It would take us a year, sure, " was the reply, "and may as it is. Iknow one thing. I'm goin' to take a drink before continuing theseproceedings, and I advise you to do the same, " pulling a flat bottlefrom his "jumper" pocket and putting it to his lips. 

For answer his companion dropped the sticks he had been gathering for afire, and produced a duplicate bottle which he quickly appropriated inlike manner. 

To an old miner, inured to such life, the work of pitching camp herewould have been slight, but to these men it was a new experience. Cooking upon a camp fire, sleeping upon a bed of boughs, cut from thethicket when exhausted after new and hard labor was bad enough; but whento this was added the almost unendurable stinging and singing of theever present mosquitoes it was a thousand fold worse. A good fire andsmoke must be kept going all night, and by lying close beside it theyhoped to get some rest from the insects. 

Before sleeping the two men planned their next day's work. They wouldleave everything and ride back to Skagway for another load of supplies, getting all here under the rock before proceeding further up the trail. 

In the meantime the bothersome winged insects buzzed and flirted. Theycrept into the ears of men and mules in spite of the long journey thelatter necessitated; the poor brutes learned after a time either to keepup a continual flopping of these head ornaments, or to assume a low, drooping position, thus keeping their ear chambers closed to visitors;while their caudal appendages were not allowed a moment's respite fromduty. The men relieved themselves of bitter and revengeful sentimentstoward their unwelcome visitants by deep and hearty curses, until alittle later, worn and weary, in the camp-fire "smudge" they sleptdespite their discomforts. It is not really known, but it is supposed, that the two long eared animals might have done good work that night hadthey been wise enough to also raise their voices in protest; themosquitoes of these mountain fastnesses being as yet unused to suchforeign and reverberating sounds. 

However, the men slept fitfully, though they arose in testy humor thefollowing morning and took immediate recourse to their whiskey bottlesupon awaking. 

The mules were still fastened to a tree nearby. They had crossed infront of the wall of rock which was moss covered to such an extent thatits face was considerably hidden, and then climbed higher in an attemptto secure the best herbage, and were still browsing. 

"Smithson, you're the youngest, you fetch the mules while I make thefire for breakfast, " said Roberts to his companion, yawning and rubbinghis mosquito bitten hands and face. 

"Do it yourself! I'm only two years younger than you. If I'm going tohear that gag every time there is anything extra hard to do on this tripI'll quit now and hunt a boy to work with, " was the disgruntled answer. 

"Do it then! I don't care; though I don't think it's harder to get themules than to bring water, cut wood, and get breakfast, do you? I'llswap jobs if you want to, but getting the mules includes watering themat the creek, of course. "

"Oh, yes, of course, " echoed Smithson in a surly voice. 

"You better get a move on or I'll have breakfast cooked and eaten beforeyou get 'round to anything. You needn't suppose I'm going to do yourwork and mine, too, " was the impatient rejoinder of Roberts as he swunghis axe hard into a stick of wet wood he was cutting. 

Smithson shuffled off up the bluff in search of the animals, which, whenfound, were treated in no very kindly manner by the sour faced, mosquito-bitten and generally disgusted tenderfoot, whose introductioninto this new world was, apparently, taking all good-nature out of him. 

The mules made no resistance and were soon poking their noses into thecreek waters where Smithson had led them. When he returned to campexpecting to find a smoking breakfast awaiting him, he was disappointed. Looking about for Roberts he saw him against the face of the cliffnearly half way to its top. 

"Smithson, come here quick, " called Roberts in a voice trembling withexcitement. 

"I won't do it! I want my breakfast. What are you doing? Picking wildflowers, I suppose. How're we goin' to get along without grub, I'd liketo know. Come down, I say!"

Roberts appeared to be working industriously. Finally he rose from hisstooping position, and motioning to his partner, called out in a lowtone:

"Come quick, man, or you'll be sorry! Never mind breakfast; you can eatthat any day; but you don't see this sight often. "

With that Smithson ambled over to the foot of the cliff. 

"What is it?" he inquired crossly. 

"Catch this bit of rock and look at it, " said Roberts in a low, excitedvoice, dropping a small white fragment at the feet of the other. 

"By Jove! Roberts, it carries gold!"

"Shut your mouth! Don't tell the men on the trail! These hills have earsand plenty of 'em. Come up here quick, but first bring a pick and hammerfrom the packs. "

With that the dilatory fellow forgot his hunger, his mosquito-bittenhands and face, and in less than two minutes was climbing up the cliffwith the tools. 

He found his partner looking well pleased but perspiring. As Smithsonjoined him he sat down on the rock and mopped his face with his redbandana. 

"What made you come up here?" asked Smithson, "I thought you weregettin' the grub. "

"So I was, but I had no dry wood, and saw some near the foot of thecliff. Coming to get it I saw that the ropes of the mules had crossedthis rock and as they climbed higher their ropes pulled tighter and hadworn off the moss which fell to the ground below. Among this moss therewere several bits of whitish rock which seemed to be quartz. Then I sawa spot high above my head that looked like the small piece below, andclimbed to see, when you came back and found me. "

"What do you think of it?" asked Smithson. 

"Think of it? Why, man, we have struck a quartz ledge with gold in it!See that shiny yellow stuff, scattered through this rock! Can't you tellgold when you see it?"

"Yes, but perhaps that's all there is of it--what then?"

"A likely story! No, sir, there's more where that comes from. Give methat pick! You scrape off the moss and break up some of the rock as Iget it out, and we'll see what it looks like; but above all things wemust not forget to speak low, for by Jiminy crickets! we don't want tosee anyone around here but you and me. "

"What about goin' to Skagway for the freight?"

"We won't go to-day. We've got enough grub to last till to-morrow. We'llwork right here. "

They did so. Even the mosquitoes were forgotten. At noon they wonderedwhat made them feel so faint. The bottles in their "jumper" pockets wereempty--they had eaten nothing since the night before. Both at lastdecided to quit work and prepare their meal before prospecting further. 

In their eager efforts to get at the width of the ledge the menafterwards scraped off the moss and vines, by this means exposing whatappeared to be a four foot vein. On each side of this vein ran a wall ofhard, dark rock they did not recognize, but the quartz was quartz andcarried free gold; and that at present was enough for them. In theirignorance they knew nothing of which way the vein "dipped", of what the"gangue" was composed, nor how often and where "faults" occurred. Thequestion in hand was the presence of gold and the length, width, anddepth of the quartz lode. The gold was really there in pretty yellowstreaks and spots, shining brightly in whichever way it was turned. 

Of course Roberts claimed the discovery. This angered his partner. 

"The mules are the real discoverers, " declared Smithson with spirit, "and one of them is mine. You knew very well that the quartz was therewhen you sent me after the animals so you could prospect the place. "

"You're a liar, and you know it!" retorted Roberts, hotly. "There isnone so suspicious of others as a rogue. If you understood mining lawsyou would know that by being my partner one half of all I find is yourswithout your raising a finger, and you could quit this howl beforebeginning. A man may be an idiot in the States if he chooses, but herehe needs all the sense he was born with besides what he can cultivate. "With this thrust Roberts picked up his tools to resume his prospecting. 

"I like that first rate. It reminds me of home and Hannah. I presume youwant me to put these things in a grub box and wash the dishes while yougo out to prospect your quartz ledge, don't you?" sneered Smithson, inwhose temper there was little improvement since he had eaten because hisstock of whiskey and tobacco was exhausted. 

"It is almost as easy as swinging a heavy iron pick, I reckon, " repliedRoberts sarcastically. 

With this the men parted. A fresh dispute soon arose, however, as towhether the ledge should be immediately staked or not. 

"We would surely be fools to go and leave it for others, especially asit is uncovered and in plain sight, " objected Smithson. 

"We will cover it so that none can find it. If we stake the ledge itmust be recorded in Skagway, and the moment we do that our secret isout. By simply planting stakes or monuments, we cannot hold the groundfrom others, but it must be on record. Now if we stop here long allthese fellows on the trail will get into Dawson ahead of us and gobbleup the claims. We started out for placer gold--creek gold--not quartzgold which takes machinery for development. By going to Dawson first wemay find enough to allow of our opening up this ledge in a year or two. "

"Well, I've always heard that 'a bird in the hand is worth two in thebush', and if this is true I think we'd better stay right here. "

"If you knew more you would kick less. It takes a lot more money to openup quartz mines than we've got or ever may have. But I see what you'reafter. You want to stay near Skagway and its well warmed barrooms, don'tyou?" laughed Roberts. 

"You go to blazes!"

"No, no, I'm going to Dawson. But first I think we'd better drop thisbusiness and pack our supplies from Skagway, don't you?" asked the moresensible man of the two. 

"Yes, yes, " said Smithson, who was thinking of his whiskey and tobaccoin that place, and of his chronic thirst which water from the mountaincould not allay. 

Before leaving, the new prospect hole was hidden from the view ofstragglers. A few tall saplings were felled, which, with foliage stillupon them, were pushed over the edge of the cliff with stems downward inorder that their leafy tops might rest against the prospected rock andtemporarily hide the new discovery. In case anyone happened that way itwould appear to them that the saplings had been felled and dropped overthe cliff for firewood. 

By this time the White Pass trail had grown to be a veritable horror. Men were ill and suffering from hard work and exposure. Animals lay deadat the foot of cliffs, over the edges of which they had slipped or beencrowded with packs still strapped upon their sore and bleeding backs. Others lay, stripped of all accoutrements, in the hot sunshine among thebuzzing flies, after a broken leg had necessitated a bullet in the head, thus causing stenches to fill the nostrils of the already suffering andoppressed passersby. No one had time to bury animals. If a man fell itwas, of course, obligatory to halt from their "packing" long enough todig a shallow bed among the rocks; but this done, and a handful ofgranite fragments heaped above his head, the procession moved on asbefore. No time could be spared for headstone marking; and long afterthese strugglers of the argonauts on the White Pass Trail were forgottenby all but the participants (who will never to their dying day forgetthem) these lonely mounds of the fallen men could at intervals have beenseen flanked by bleaching bones of defunct animals. 

Lonely indeed were these dreary resting places. The scream of the eagleas he easily swung on powerful pinions from cliff to cliff on familyerrands or to drink at the foot of some rushing cascade was the onlydirge that was sung. Ferns swayed gently in shaded nooks, and wildflowers nodded familiarly to each other. Filmy winged bees flitted withbustling movement head foremost into the cups of bluebells beneath skiesas azure as they, and in atmosphere as pure as God could make it. 

In winter all this was changed. Snow covered the little mounds as wellas the whole surrounding region; and intermittently the falling flakeswhirled and drifted into ravines and canyons, making them level with thesteep mountain-sides; presently melting under the sunshine andbeginning a race to the sea. 

However, the argonauts hurried on. They were not here to moralize--theyhad something else to do. 

As the two men proceeded, making numerous trips with the freight ladenmules between camps, they found, much to their disappointment, that, without assistance, they would not be able to reach Lake Bennett in timeto build a boat and make their way into the Klondyke before beingovertaken by winter. 

In order to proceed faster it would be necessary to hire Indian packersto help them over the summit of the Pass, else the sun of another summerwould see them still wearily toiling on that terrible trail. 

Indians were then hired. The great mountain tops, bald of everythingsave boulders and a few saucer-shaped lakelets reflecting in their colddepths the floating clouds above, seemed now for the first time toencourage the harassed and footsore travelers. 

Soon they were cheered by entering a forest. Here was fuel in abundance, and shelter, at least partial, from frosts and rain. Below, the greenand level "meadows" beckoned to them, and still farther the shiningwaters of Bennett. But trail troubles would soon for them be over, andwith lighter hearts, though with weary feet and backs, they stumbled onin their eagerness to reach the long waterway which was to guide theminto the promised land. 

Beautiful Bennett! How pure its waters, and how clean its sands! Withwhat maidenly modesty it nestles in the rugged arms of its lovers, thesky-piercing mountains!

Tents were everywhere. Cabins rose in a night. In surrounding thicketswere the axes of men heard, felling trees for boat-building. Night andday this continued, and turns were taken at sleeping in order that thework might not be stopped; indeed, some men seemed never to sleep, sointent were they on making an early entrance into the gold fields ahead. 

Not so, Smithson. He slept more than ever. His bottle made him drowsy. It did not increase the sweetness of his naturally selfish disposition, which under the delays, hardships, and extra expense of their journeyhad rather increased his laziness and stubbornness. 

Nothing Roberts did pleased him. They often came to words, but never toblows in an argument, for sooner than do this Roberts would turn on hisheel and leave his partner to fall asleep and thus escape his burden ofthe work. 

"Come now, " said Roberts one morning, "our boat is nearly finished andwe ought to be off and away in about two days. You can surely do thecaulking of seams, after which I'll paint her. "

"I never caulked a boat in my life, and I think it a poor time tobegin, " said Smithson. "If it isn't done right all hands may go to thebottom. You better get someone else to do it. "

"There is nobody but me to do it unless we pay ten dollars a day, and wecan't afford that. I've done most of the work so far, and I think youmight take hold now like a man if you never do again, " argued Roberts. 

The words "like a man" nettled Smithson. He resented the inference thathe was not manly. Seizing his hat he shambled off toward the beach wherethe boat was in process of construction. 

His heart was filled with anger. He began fairly to hate Roberts. He hadno right to order him around, and he hated to leave that quartz ledge. If Roberts were only out of his way the hidden ledge would all be hisown. He had pondered this many times when his working partner supposedhim sleeping. Only for Roberts he could sell the boat and supplies fordouble their cost, return to Skagway, and build a cabin near the quartzledge, thus escaping the long and dangerous trip down the lakes andrivers as well as the awful Arctic winter which he more and more dreadedin the Klondyke. On the south side of the mountains the weather would bemore mild; he would have no difficulty in finding another partner, ifnot of his own sex, then the other--why not? he asked himself. The ownerof a ledge like that one might afford luxuries beyond those of thecommon people. In this way he ruminated, standing with his hands inpockets alongside the boat he was expected to finish by caulking. 

Smithson hated work. Why should he work? There was enough gold in thebig ledge on the other side of the summit to keep him as long as helived if he could have the whole and manage it to suit himself. Could aboat be caulked lightly in spots, he wondered, so that such weak placesmight be plugged at the proper moment afterwards, making it fill withwater and sink with its freight?

It might be done, but that would be bad policy, for freight landed eventhis far had cost large sums of money; farther on it would be worth moreand could be sold for many times what they had paid for it at starting;but men were far too plenty. One man would not be missed. It might bemanaged, perhaps, and he decided to do the caulking as requested byRoberts. 

An hour later a fair beginning had been made. A fire was built overwhich the smoke of melting pitch ascended, while oakum was filling theseams of the boat's sides under the hands of the new ship-builder. 

Smithson could work if he liked. When his partner, after taking a muchneeded rest and nap, came out to see how the business was progressing hewas well pleased. The work appeared satisfactory. 

"I'm afraid you'll be sick, old fellow, after such exertion as this, "laughed he with a twinkle in his eye, "for you're breaking your record, sure; but keep right on; I'll get paint and brushes in readiness tostart my job the moment you've done. The sun will soon dry allthoroughly, " and he hastened back to their tent. 

For reply the new workman only lighted his pipe. His mind was busy andhe needed a nerve-quieter. The train of thought in which he had justindulged was strange, and rather disquieting--altogether he needed thesmoke. 

The common industry at Bennett was now the launching of boats. Hundredsof frail and faulty craft were started upon their long voyage to theKlondyke laden with freight to the water's edge. Men who had neverbefore used a saw, axe, or plane, here built boats and sailedcourageously away. 

Smithson and Roberts had done the same. 

It was late in the afternoon. The storm clouds were rapidly gatheringoverhead. The men had raised a sail and were scudding northward beforethe wind towards Caribou. If they could make the crossing that night, Roberts said, they would be in luck. To sleep on shore and sail againnext morning was his plan. 

Night came on. No other craft was near. The wind flapped their smallsail and the yardarm wobbled badly. Roberts sat in the stern. 

"Mind the sail, there, Smithson, and pull that tarpaulin over the grubpile, for by Jingo! we're goin' to catch it now!" as the cold raindashed full against their faces, and they both crouched lower in theboat. 

"Haul in the sail!" shouted Roberts, an instant later at the top of hisvoice, and Smithson arose presumedly to obey. 

"Haul in the sail!" repeated Roberts while tending the rudder, as theother hesitated. 

With that the man addressed moved, but not in the way expected. Hegrasped the yardarm and swung it suddenly and heavily around againstRoberts. 

Instantly the side of the little craft dipped low, shipping water, butthe roar of the gale drowned the noise of a sudden splash. A cry ofhorror, the flash of two hands in the water, and the boat sped madlyaway on her course. 

Ten minutes later the white capped waters tossed a boat upon the beachnear Caribou. Its one occupant looked wildly around in the darkness butpresently managed to make a fire by which to warm and dry himself. 

He muttered incoherently meanwhile. 

"I didn't do it--'twas the wind--dark and wild--couldn't stop theboat--terrible storm--two hands in the water--Jove! where's thatwhiskey?" and he fumbled among the supplies under the tarpaulin. When hehad found it and drunk deeply he felt stronger and replenished the fire. 

"The ledge! The hidden ledge! It's all mine now, yes, mine, mine!" andhe hugged himself in his greedy, guilty joy. 

"To-morrow I'll sell the grub and backtrack to the coast to guard it. "

The storm died away and the cold, bright moon shone searchingly. The manlay down in the boat to rest, pulling his furs and tarpaulin over him. 

Sleep did not immediately come at his bidding. He saw and heardaffrighting things. The rush and roar of the elements--two handsflashing out of the ink-black water--the cry of horror--but he wanted toforget, and at last, in spite of all, he slept. 

 * * * * *

An Indian guide trudged heavily up the long trail toward the summit. Hewas closely followed by a white man and both were headed southward. Theguide carried a heavy pack on his back, but the white man was "travelinglight. "

When night came they camped and rested; amusing themselves for a whilewith a poker game. Black bottles kept them company. At last troublearose over the cards. Smithson had indiscreetly allowed his guide aglimpse of his money belt, and though the white man was well armed, in amoment of forgetfulness he allowed the native to pass behind him; when asudden shot and thud upon the ground quickly settled forever all scoresbetween them. 

An Indian seldom smiles. 

This one smiled gloomily now; muttering as he wiped the revolver in hishand:

"Him bad white man yesterday, --good man now, --heap long time sleep. "

Half an hour later the sure-footed Indian cautiously made his way alongthe trail. Stars twinkled overhead. A well filled money belt, arevolver, and blankets ornamented his person, though only the latterwere visible. 

The "Hidden Ledge" was close at hand, but unknowingly he passed it by;its secret having been, for the present, buried with the two partnerswho were numbered among the strenuous stampeders on the White PassTrail. 

[Illustration]

CHAPTER IV

A NEW KLONDYKE

Two miners sat smoking in a small log cabin in Dawson. They were hardyyoung fellows, and used the accent of born Canadians. They werebrothers, and the elder was speaking. 

"What's the use of our hanging 'round here all winter doing nothing? Thebest creeks are all staked, and there isn't the ghost of a show for usto get any first class ground hereabouts. Let's light out, blaze a newtrail for ourselves, and prospect in the likeliest places during thewinter instead of idling away our time here, eating up high-priced gruband hating ourselves. I'm sick of this camp. What do you say?"

"Which way shall we go?"

"Any old way. No, it would be better to have some definite idea of thepoint we wish to reach, of course. We might make for the headwaters ofthe Klondyke and then east into the unknown country where only a fewpoor Indians live. "

"They might prove ugly. What then?"

"We could manage them. We would take plenty of grub and ammunition, anda couple of white men, at least, with us. "

"What makes you think there's gold there? It wouldn't pay us to risk ourlives for nothing in such a wilderness. I would be willing to go if Ithought our time and efforts might turn up something good. "

"I have been watching the Indians who come here for supplies from thatdirection, and they are far from penniless. They carry good-sized pokesof nuggets and dust which they use in trading. They must get these fromsome of the creeks over east, " said the elder of the two men. 

"They are mum as oysters; one can't get any information from them. "

"What'll you bet I can't?"

"A box of cigars, " laughed the younger, whose name seemed appropriatelybestowed, for it was Thomas, and he often doubted. 

With that George MacDougall drew on his fur coat and mittens and quittedthe cabin. He would find a certain long haired Indian he had seen thatday, and prove to his brother that he was not simply a boaster. 

It was early in the evening; but for the matter of that, the hour madelittle difference, for time slipped by unreckoned in the Klondyke inwinter. Night was more often than not turned into day by the restlessdenizens of the mining camp, and belated breakfast sometime thefollowing afternoon was the sequel. 

Just now the moon shown brightly above the camp, the deep frozen riverand the high hills. George MacDougall could plainly hear the loudtalking and shouts of those bent on dissipation while crossing the iceby dog-team to West Dawson. Glancing in that direction he saw thebrilliantly lighted dance-house and saloon, whose blare of brassyinstruments reached his unwilling ears at that distance; the still, coldair of an Arctic night being a perfect conductor of sound. Under thesheltering, furry fringe of his cap his forehead gathered itself into ascowl. 

"What fools!" he muttered. "If one must carouse why come here? That sortof thing can be done on the 'outside', but in here where grub is worthits weight in gold, and none expect comforts, why waste time? We camehere for that we cannot obtain in the States--at least I did--forgold, --gold, and I'll have it, too, by Gad!" Then pricking up his earsagain at the end of his soliloquy, he listened and laughed aloud. 

"Hear those malamute cusses! How they do whoop it up, to be sure, " as afamiliar canine chorus surged clearcut through the frosty air. "I'drather listen any time to the brutes zig-zagging up and down theirscales than to the giggling 'box rustlers' from the Monte Carlo crossingyonder to the dance-house; but where's that blooming Indian, I wonder? Imust find him, " and the stalwart Canadian moved on more quickly up themain street. 

An hour later he again smoked in his cabin with his brother. Oppositethem sat an Indian with long, black hair. The latter held in his hand awhiskey glass, now almost drained, the contents of which had no doubtcalled up the good-humored expression at the corners of the native'shabitually unsmiling mouth. 

The Canadians smoked; their chair-backs tilted against the wall. Therewas no hurry. The elder MacDougall re-filled the Indian's glass withliquor, and leisurely and carefully knocking the ashes from his pipe, placed it upon a shelf. He then took from an inside pocket a half dozencigars of reputable brand and placed one between his lips, by chance, probably, glancing toward his visitor, whose fingers now twitched atsight of the much relished tobacco stick. 

"Plenty gold where you come from?" carelessly interrogated MacDougall, his eyes on the lighted end of his cigar, and flirting away the match hehad been using. 

"Yes, " grunted the Indian in answer. 

"Can we find it, too, Pete?" queried the white man, at the same momentholding one of the cigars toward his visitor, who eagerly seized it. 

"I tink. "

"Will you show us a gold creek, Pete?" continued the patientlyquestioning Canadian. 

"How much you give?"

"I'll give you a gallon of whiskey and a box of good cigars if you willtake me with my brother here to your gold creek, or any gold creek thatis not taken up by white men already. Understand, Pete?"

The Indian nodded. He loved liquor better than gold, but Yukonauthorities had prohibited the sale of the stuff to Indians, andstrictly enforced the law, so, though he had attempted in various waysto purchase it in Dawson he had not been successful. Here was the offerof a whole gallon in exchange for gold so far away that the white manwould probably die before he reached it, even if he attempted to coverthe distance; and the Indian acquiesced in the bargain. 

Thomas MacDougall wanted to be shown some of Pete's gold, and soremarked; whereupon the latter thrust his hand into his trouser'spockets, well hidden by the fur parkie he wore, took out a poke andthrew it upon the table. When Thomas had untied the string and held themoose-hide sack by its two lower corners bottom upwards there clatteredout upon the boards enough of good-sized golden nuggets to cause theeyes of the doubter to sparkle with interest. 

"Are you sure you did not steal these from some white man's cabin onBonanza or Eldorado, Pete?" queried the skeptic Thomas. 

"No steal 'um, --catch 'um big crik, --plent' gold, --heap. You sabee?"

Thomas understood, but only partly believed. His brother argued that itwas a case of "nothing venture, nothing have" and he would take the riskand follow Pete into the wintry wilderness. 

If indecision is a sign of weak minds then there are but fewfeeble-minded men in an Alaskan gold camp. Here men decide mattersquickly. It is touch and go with them. This trip might mean the end ofall things earthly to the two MacDougalls, but they determined to makethe venture. They might fail of finding gold in quantities, but that wastheir fate if they remained in Dawson. They could die but once. Havingrisked so much, and come so far already, it was small effort to stakestill more of time, effort and money, and they decided to follow Pete. 

A week later the two brothers, (their company augmented by two white menand as many Indians, besides long-haired Pete, the guide) might havebeen seen slowly but carefully making their way through the snowy hillregion of the headwaters of the Klondyke River. Mapped carelessly, as itoften is, this appears a small and unpretending stream; but to theIndian or prospector who has tracked its length from a small creeklet atstarting to a wide and rushing mouth emptying its pure waters into themuddy Yukon, it has a good length of several hundred miles, and must notbe lightly mentioned. On its "left limit" were Bonanza and EldoradoCreeks where men with underground fires burning both night and day triedwith puny strength to checkmate the stubborn ice king in order to add tothe dumps to be hopefully washed out in the springtime. Though theyburned their eyes from their sockets in these pestilential smoke holes, and though from badly cooked and scanty meals their blackened limbs madedeclaration that the dreaded scurvy was upon them; still there werealways men eager to fill the places of those who succumbed, and the workwent on. 

There were creeks called Bear, Rock, Benson, Wolf, Gnat and Fox, whichwith Nello, Arizona, and many more, went to make up the far-famedKlondyke River. 

Now all were fast frozen. Snow lay deep upon the ice. No babbling ofhurrying waters over pebbly creek beds was heard, but instead, the axeof the solitary miner at wood chopping on the banks of silent streams. 

As the short days passed, and the small caravan forged on, the smoke ofwhite men's cabins was more seldom seen; until finally the last one waspointed out by Indian Pete, and it was soon left far behind. 

Shorter grew the daylight hours. Proceeding they were forced to breaktrails, although their guide appeared familiar with the region and washeading toward the best and easiest pass in the Rockies. This tedioussnow waste once crossed, their way to the great lakes was comparativelyclear. 

They soon learned to travel as well in the dusky snow-light as bydaylight, and enjoyed it better, for there was no glare of the sun onthe white mantled earth. Their dog-teams were good ones, and a source ofcomfort to the travelers whose experience with this mode of migrationwas limited. While the weary men slept in their little tents by nightthe malamutes howled and rested at intervals. If one happened to bestartled by a bad dream he immediately communicated the fact to hisneighbors, of whom there were more than thirty, and they, either fromsympathetic interest in a brother, or because they resented being wakedthus unceremoniously in the midst of enjoyable naps, began echoing theirsentiments in the most lugubrious manner. To all sorts of notes in themusical scale the voices of these dogs ranged, they seeming to spare nopains to give varied entertainment. How these creatures work so hard, eat and sleep so little, howl so much, and keep in good condition, isever an unsolvable riddle; but they are usually docile, pleasant ofdisposition, and ready for any task. 

The MacDougall party treated their animals kindly. Men must reasonablydo this in self defense. That a brow-beaten dog gives up and drops fromthe race through sheer discouragement often happens; but well fed andwith considerate treatment a malamute will bravely work to the lastmoment. 

A few hundred miles farther east and these dogs would be exchanged for"Hudson Bay huskies", or sent back over the trail to Dawson to be sold. In case the MacDougalls "struck it rich" in the Indian country it wasimperative that they be provided with huskies, but for the present the"malamute made much music", as Tom MacDougall laughingly remarked. 

One day the party came upon the fresh tracks of a caribou. Made bygood-sized hoofs, the animal had gone toward the south apparently ingreat haste. In a moment Pete was off with his rifle to the nearesthill-top, stealthily but rapidly treading the soft, deep snow. The elderMacDougall shouldered his gun and followed the trail of the animal whoseflesh he coveted as a feasting dish after living so long upon dried fishand bacon. 

For more than an hour the Canadian tracked his game. Pete, from thehill-top, had sighted a tiny thread of blue smoke rising from the valleyon the other side, and knew that Indians, probably Peel River men, werealso upon the track of the animal, when instantly his enthusiasm in thechase cooled. 

He decided to follow MacDougall. If these were the Peel River Indiansthey were far from their own hunting grounds, and must have driven biggame into this vicinity which they were loath to abandon. In case thatMacDougall should bring down the caribou he might get into trouble, andPete hastened on. 

The cold, crisp air was intensely still. As he proceeded, with alertears, he heard a shot, angry voices in altercation, and a second shot, when the now thoroughly awakened Indian hurried on in the footprints ofthe Canadian. 

One of the hunters would probably hunt no more; but which one was it?

He was not long in doubt. Coming suddenly upon them he discovered thathis fears were realized. 

MacDougall stood sternly regarding a fur-dressed Indian lying dead uponthe snow. He and Pete exchanged glances. 

"What's the matter?" asked Pete. 

"He jumped upon me and declared the caribou was his. I told him it wasmine, when he pulled his gun and I shot him--that's all, " saidMacDougall. 

"That's plent', " tersely from Pete. Then casting his eye over the sky hesaid: "Snow cum quick, --hide um. We cut caribou, " whereupon he whippedout a big hunting knife, after placing his rifle in the crotch of atree, and began slashing the still warm body of the big caribou. 

MacDougall followed suit. It was not long before the two had selectedand cut away the choice parts of the carcass, and with as much of themeat as they could handle, made their way back to camp. Pete and hisIndians, with dog-teams, were dispatched to the scene of the doubletragedy for the remainder. 

The dead Indian was left as he fell, and falling snow soon covered him. 

That night the Canadians pushed on without resting, laden with as muchmeat as they could carry. It was thought safest not to remain long inthe vicinity, as some of the Peel River Indians might track the murdererof their brother. 

The dogs had feasted on caribou as well as the men, and all could returnto the long trail with redoubled energy. More large game was seen, andfrom this on there was no lack of venison. 

Ptarmigan, too, made a variety of eating. The snow-white beauties werenever tired of, but furnished food equally as good as the caribou. Theminers were given a pleasant surprise one evening when GeorgeMacDougall cleaned the birds for his breakfast. Three or four peculiarlooking pebbles rolled out of the craw of the bird he was handling andfell upon the ground. Stooping, he picked them up. 

"Gad! What's this?"

"He then made an examination. 

"Here you, Indian! Get some ice and melt it. I want to wash thesestones. If they are stones, I'll eat 'em. I believe they're goldnuggets, " he added to his brother, at which the latter crawled out ofhis fur sleeping bag to investigate. 

They were now in a gold-bearing country. Of this MacDougall feltassured. The nuggets found in the craw of the ptarmigan, though notlarge, were of pure gold, and once clean of filth looked good to theeyes of the patient prospectors. They had certainly come from the barsof some stream, which, in an exposed place, had been wind-swept, furnishing the grouse a late feeding ground when tundra berries werecovered with snow. To be sure, not much nourishment could have beengotten from the nuggets, but the latter had answered the purpose ofpebbles in mastication processes. 

After this MacDougall kept more hopefully on. Each bird shot wasexamined, and many carried their own savings bank with them. No betterindications were wanted of the contents of the creeks of the region. 

The gold was surely there. 

Finally, after six cold and weary weeks, during which time much of hopeand fear had constantly alternated in the breasts of the two Canadiansand their men, notwithstanding the reiterated affirmative statements ofthe Indians; Pete grunted with satisfaction and pointed to a nearbyforest. 

"Indian cabins over there, " said he. "Two sleeps cum rich crik. "

"I hope so, Pete, " MacDougall had replied, being tired and hungry. 

Only twice on their long trip had they come upon small Indiansettlements, and then a few hours' rest within the crowded and stiflinghuts satisfied them to resume their march. The air outside, if cold, waspure, sweet and invigorating, and these hardy, fur clad men were nowaccustomed to it and enjoyed it. 

A fresh surprise awaited them at Pete's house. A good, large, log cabinof two rooms, lined from top to bottom with the furs of animals, andornamented with antlers and similar trophies of the chase, made a warmand comfortable home compared to that which the white men had expectedto find. A pleasant-faced squaw and several small children retreated tothe inner room upon the entrance of the men from the trail. While Petegreeted his family, the visitors made notes and discussed the surprisingsituation. 

"Gee Whiz! Who'd a thought it?"

"I thought Pete lived in an ice hut, or a teepee made of skins andsticks, " said one. 

"A filthy hole in the ground was what I thought we'd find, " declaredanother. 

"We're right in civilization!" exclaimed a fourth, slapping his knee indelight. 

"A music box, as I live!" eyeing an old accordian in a corner. 

"Well, I snum!"

The men were all talking at once. 

"I'd like to take a smoke, but don't dare, " said Tom MacDougall, demurely, with a wink. 

"I fancy it might injure the lace curtains, " laughed his brother, wholooked as well pleased as any of the group, while touching the bit ofcalico draping at the tiny window. 

But Pete was now going out of doors and they all trooped after him. Surrounding the Indian they plied him with a hundred questions. Theywanted to know where he and his squaw had learned to make a home likethis, --where he got so much of civilization, --who had taught his squawto keep house, --who played the accordian, --where he got tools to workwith, and many other things; above all, where he bought certainaccessories to his cabin which they had never seen in Dawson. 

Flinging, as they did, all these questions at the poor fellow in abreath, MacDougall feared he would be stalled for replies, and finallyhalted for him to make a beginning; but Pete only remarked quietly, twitching his thumb toward the southeast:

"Fort by big lake. White man, --mission, --teach um Indian, "unconcernedly, as though it was of every day occurrence, and there wasno further explanation necessary. 

"Do they talk as we do?" asked MacDougall. 

"No. "

"What do you call them?"

"Father Petroff, --teach um. Indian sick, --fix um. Heap good man, " andPete turned away, thinking this sufficient. 

"Ask him how far it is to the Fort, Mac, " said one of the men. 

"Not now. He has had enough quizzing for this time. It is evidently aRussian Mission on one of the big lakes, --which mission, and what lake, I don't know. But we must pitch our tents, cook our supper, and feed thedogs. Poor fellows! They shall have a good long rest soon for they'vewell earned it, " and George MacDougall patted the snow white head of thenearest malamute looking up into his face for sympathy. 

Next day the men had eaten, slept and rested. They had listened theevening before to the old accordian in the hands of Pete's wife; theyhad trotted the infant of the family on their knees; they had propoundedanother hundred questions to their uncommunicative host and gottenmonosyllabic answers; but they had heard only that which was good tohear, and that which confirmed the leader in his mind that he had madea capital move in coming into this country with the Indians. 

Pete had exhibited nuggets and gold dust of astonishing richness. Kicking a bear skin from the center of the room, he disclosed a boxembedded in the earth, the sight of which, when uncovered, caused thewhite men to feel repaid for coming. There were chunks and hunks of theprecious yellow metal larger than the thumbs of the brawny handedminers; besides gold dust in moose-hide sacks tied tightly and placedsystematically side by side in rows. 

The surprise of the white men was great. They did not imagine that Petemined gold to any extent, but thought he had secured enough in adesultory way for his present use. The trusting native had no fear ofthe men, having unreservedly laid bare his treasure house. 

"I no lie. I tell um truf, " said Pete, looking toward Thomas MacDougall, remembering that the doubter had frequently called into question hisword. 

"We see your gold, Pete, but you must show us a gold creek, too, " wasTom's answer to the Indian. 

"I show you. Come!"

 * * * * *

Three years passed. The great lakes south of the headwaters of theMackenzie River were again frozen. Darkness claimed the land except whenthe brilliant low-swinging moon lighted the heavens and snowy earthbelow, and the sun for a few brief hours consented to coldly shine uponthe denizens of the wilderness at midday. 

A gang of miners worked like beavers in the bed of the stream. Withfires they thawed the ground, after having diverted the creek waters theprevious summer. 

Their camp was a large one. Fifty men worked in two shifts, one half inthe daytime, the others at night. At the beginning of each month theywere changed, and night men were placed on the day force; thisalternation being found best in all mining camps. Log cabins and bunkhouses were numerous, large, and comfortable, for forests of excellenttimber dotted the Mackenzie landscape, and men, as ever ambitious forcomfort, had felled, hewed, and crosscut the trees to their liking. 

Much that was crude of construction was here in confirmation of the factthat the camp was far removed from civilization, and men had, with greatingenuity, supplied deficiencies whenever practicable. 

As helpers who were ever faithful there were "Hudson Bay huskies" to thenumber of four score who had become real beasts of burden, and vied witheach other as to which should carry the palm for leadership and favor intheir masters' eyes. They were mainly used for hauling wood and ice; thelatter in lieu of water at this season. 

For carrying gravel and dirt to the dumps the miners had constructedrude tramways with small flat cars, which being successfully operated bygravity in all weather left the dogs free for other service. 

No sluicing of dumps could now be done. When summer came again and thecreeks and rivers were full of water, this would be directed intoditches conveying it to the well arranged heaps of dirt and gravel, andthen these dumps rapidly melted like snow before hot sunshine, leavingin their wake a stream of yellow metal so coveted by these fearless anddaring miners. 

For no small amount of gold had they risked their lives in this far awaycorner of the earth. Only four of the miners had come onuncertainty, --the four guided by Indian Pete three years before, --theothers had known why they came, how far the distance, how cold it grew, and many other points of which it is well to be advised beforeventuring; but they had come, and here they were. 

Not a man regretted his coming. Not even old Charlie, after breaking hisleg and having to wait for days while two Indians "mushed" southward tothe Fort, four hundred miles away, for Father Petrof to come and set itright again. 

None heard him complain; though some of the "boys" tried to force him toconfess that he wished himself back in Dawson. 

"Not by a jugful! I don't give in like a baby, " said he, stoutly, although the pain in his limb must have been considerable. "There aintno whiskey in me system, either, to keep me leg from healin' when it'sonce put right (though I'll admit there is some tobac), and I'll be intrim again presently, " declared the gritty old miner. 

Having nothing better to do while in his bunk he talked on, addressingthe camp cook who had a few leisure moments from the kitchen. 

"I've seed many a gold camp in me day, boy, and plenty as good as theKlondyke before I ever struck that Canadian bird; but I never got intoground so rich as this. I tell you, boy, it not only makes me eyes bugout, but it makes me hair stand on end, fur it's a whale of a goldcreek! When I lay here studyin' the old tin cans and grub boxes full ofgold under these bunks, and get to computin' what's in 'em, I feel likehollerin' for joy!"

"But its all Mac's gold, you know, " said the cook regretfully. 

"Yes, but you and me are gettin' the biggest wages we ever got in ourlives, and Mac never squirms at payin' either. Then we have a reasonablehope that Sister Creek is as good as this one, and we boys have got itall staked, --that's where we're comin' in at. See?"

"I hope to. How much do you calculate there is under the bunks in thisroom, Charlie? I'd just like to know. "

"There's about half a million dollars in this cabin and as much in thedumps as they stand-now. By cleanin' up time next summer there'll behalf a million more at least; judgin' from indications. That aint halfbad, eh?" and Charlie's eyes shone as he talked. 

"By George! It's great, and no mistake; but a fellow can't spend any ofit here, " said the cook ruefully. 

"All the better for us. We've got to save it. We can't do nothin' else. Great box we're in, to be sure, " and the man laughed heartily in spiteof his infirmity. Continuing, he said:

"It's the best place we could be in, I tell you; especially so for Billwho can't buy a drop of whiskey for a thousand dollars, although hewould buy it sometimes at that price, I think, if he could. "

"It don't hinder him playing that violin of his'n, does it? Do you mindhow he played last night?"

"You bet your life. I had nothin' else to do. He's a crackerjack, andthat's no josh, either. But here comes Mac. What in thunder's that?" Thequestion was put to the man entering with a heavy load in his hands. 

MacDougall laughed. 

"Only a nugget that Tom turned up. I brought it in to show you, and theCanadian placed the mammoth chunk of gold on the floor near the bunk. 

"What do you think of it?"

"Great Scott and little fishes! She's a bird! Why, man, this newKlondyke will make the old one look like thirty cents!"

[Illustration]

CHAPTER V

ESTELLA THE ESKIMO

Estella was not the name her parents had given her. That wasunpronounceable to the white man's tongue and was replaced by Estellawhen she married the trader not many years ago. 

She was a bright and amiable young woman, though not actually pretty. Born and raised on the Seward Peninsula, she had learned to hunt, fishand trap, as do all the Eskimo women while still in their teens. Numbersof young men among her people had sought her hand in marriage, but up tothe time of the advent of the white men into the country she had neveryielded to their entreaties. 

When approached on the subject she glanced demurely down at the toe ofher mukluks, tossed back her long hair, and, turning her back on thesuitor who did not suit, ran away to play on the beach with thechildren. 

Her people did not know her heart. She had ambition, though it wasunknown to them. None of the young Eskimos entirely pleased her. Someone with better looks and more supplies than they must offer himselfbefore she decided to take a life-mate, she told herself. 

At her birth some planet must have bestowed upon her many aspirationsabove those of the common Eskimo, and though she was ignorant of thecause of her ambition she realized the possession of it. 

Being a sensible young woman she hid these things in her own bosom, forwhy should she trouble her parents? They would not understand her, butwould oppose, say harsh things, perhaps, and, at any rate, feel badly. 

So she ran away to play with the little ones. If this did not answer herpurpose she persuaded her young brother to take her in his didarka onthe water to some quiet island, where in the pleasant sunshine they satupon the sandy beach or fished in some gurgling stream. 

In winter there was less freedom. She must keep more to her father'sigloo and help her mother at sewing of furs for the clothing, going outat times with the other women to set their traps in the snow for animalswhose skins were in demand by the traders. 

At last, one day in winter, there came to the home of the Eskimo girl, two white men. They were clothed in furs and rode behind dog-teams. Theycame to buy skins, principally those of the black fox, mink and whiteermine. 

One of the men could speak a good deal of the Eskimo language, and hadno difficulty in making known their errand. They wished to remain allnight in the igloo as it was too late and stormy to proceed farther onthe trail. 

The Alaskan Eskimo is kindly and generous. No one is ever turned fromhis door. It matters not how low the state of his larder, or how fewsticks there are before the fire; the stranger is always welcome. 

The two white traders remained. They bought of the Eskimo what furs theywanted and paid as little for them as possible. A little thread, calico, tea, tobacco, and a few glass beads were given in exchange for the softand shining skins which in civilized centers would sell for a fabuloussum. 

The storm continued. The traders remained for days. When they left theigloo the heart of the Eskimo maiden was no longer her own; she hadgiven it to another who would presently return and take her to hiscabin. 

The girl's ambition was now about to be realized. To be looked upon byher people as the bride of a white man, and that one a rich trader whoowned, not only a cabin and many skins, but dogs, sleds and boats, wastruly a great honor and not to be lightly considered. She would soon bein a position high above that of any of the Eskimo women of heracquaintance, and she began to feel the importance and desirability ofher station. 

The trader who had succeeded in winning where others had failed was mucholder than his sweetheart. He was of middle height, with black hair, andswarthy, not unlike in this respect to her own family; but totallydifferent in disposition, a striking contrast to the gentle and yieldingcharacter of the Eskimo, but the girl in crass ignorance was quiteunaware of the difference. To her he was an ardent lover, brave, fearless, strong, and with worldly goods to provide her with all sheliked and needed. 

Poor, simple-hearted, little Eskimo girl! Are your good and kind devassleeping that they do not better guard you? Of what can they bethinking? Call them quickly to advise and help you before it is toolate, and your happiness is forever blasted! Will they not wake in timeto keep you from making this terrible mis-step? Beware of the white manwhose heart is blackness!

But her good devas slept on. The return of the trader was expected, andas far as lay in their power the Eskimo had made ready for the great andunusual event soon to be celebrated. The igloo was made tidy, heaps offirewood were piled beside the door, and from the cache not far distantwere brought quantities of frozen tomcod, seal meat, and salmon berries. Whale oil for illuminating the interior of the snow-covered igloo wasbought in puffed out seal bladders, tied at each end by stoutly knottedsinews. 

A new fur parkie for the bride made of reindeer skin and decorated withblack and white fur squares for a border, was completed by Eskimo womensitting crosslegged in a corner of the igloo. 

At last the white man arrived. He was accompanied by another who was toact as the officiating clergyman; the Eskimo girl wished to haveperformed the ceremony of his people; but alas! she had not overheard aconversation which had taken place between the two men. 

"Get off some rigmarole of your own, I tell you, " laughed the comingbridegroom, speaking to his companion, "It's no matter what it is, onlydon't make me burst out laughing in the middle of it, for Estella mightresent it. She's a bright little one, and that's no josh. Seriously, Idon't want a bona fide marriage ceremony performed, you understand. WhenI make my stake and leave Alaska behind forever I don't care to have alegal wife tagging at my coat-tails. I want to be a free man to go andcome as I please. See?" and the speaker puffed a cloud of tobacco smokefrom between his lips. 

"What about the children, Buster? Will there be any?"

"You bet your life! The brats can live as well as those up the countrywith that other squaw of mine. But you're a terror for questions, pard. If you squeal on me I'll send you to thunder, " clapping his hand on hiship pocket where protruded a stout, black handle. 

"No fear of me, " laughed the other. "I'm too eager for the rest of themfine furs which we must try to get. Can't you work the girl for them, Buster?"

"I'll try. In the meantime get the dogs together to-morrow and feed 'emup. They're lookin' thin. I hope to hear from Dan in a day or two asregards that creek and what he's found in it. Then I'm off to the nestof my turtle dove, for the bridegroom is hungry for his bride, eh, pard?" winked the dark-browed fellow, still smoking heavily. 

"You're a dandy, sure!" retorted the man designated as "pard" by thetrader. "I see your finish if your squaw's people up country find outyour doin's here. "

"They never will. The Yukon is many 'sleeps' away, and there is nocommunication between these Eskimos and the Indians. "

"You're makin' good the sayin' that a sailor has a wife in every portaint you Buster?" continued the man who in the absence of betteremployment delighted in teasing his partner. 

"Wife be blowed! What's got into you to-night? Go along to bed!"

"Thank you I'm there, " mockingly from the other, while tumbling into hisbunk in the cabin corner, and pulling away at his smudgy cob pipe afterretiring. 

The two men understood each other. "Buster", as he was nicknamed, wasshameless. He respected neither God nor man. Whatever he willed to do, he did, regardless of results, and was well known in Alaska by the whiteinhabitants. The other was a trifle weaker though not less wicked. Hecould stand beside Buster and urge him on, while hesitating to do thesame acts of lawlessness. There is small difference in these degrees ofsinning. If any, it may be in favor of the Busters, who possibly deservecredit for fearlessness where the others are cowardly. 

The scant mock marriage was soon over. The smiling little bride saidgood-bye to her people, who wept around her; climbed into the dog-sledof her new master, and rode proudly away southward. 

With the summer her friends might come on a fishing trip to visit her, and renew their acquaintance in her new home. 

She wanted to convince them of the wisdom of her selection. She feltthat she could do so--if not now, then by the time of their coming. 

[Illustration: "_Upon his mother's back beneath her parkie_"]

Poor child! She had not yet learned that it is best to feel confident ofnothing. 

Two years passed, and a small, black-eyed toddler kept Estella company. He wore a red calico cap upon his head and his stout and chubby limbsgrew perceptibly. While young he was tied upon his mother's back beneathher parkie, a stout leather belt confining the same around the woman'swaist to prevent the baby from falling out. There his black eyes winkedand blinked above the little, round mouth which had only lately learnedto smile, and which was beginning to experiment daily among thedifficult mazes of his native dialects. For the child was confrontedwith two languages; English, spoken by his father, the Eskimo spokenby his mother; but he was as yet ignorant of both. Dearly his motherloved him, and enjoyed his companionship during the long and frequentabsences of his father. 

Gold in great quantities had now been discovered on the SewardPeninsula. Hundreds of people were flocking into the country. Camps werefilling with eager fortune-seekers, and the beach was strewn with tents. 

Fur traders had gone into mining. Miners were scattered over thecountry, carrying supplies by boat up stream to the sections where theylooked for gold, and where, in many instances, they found it. 

The attention of all had been drawn to a stream called Anvil, near thesea, whose sentinel rock, perched upon a tall hillcrest near, had longand successfully guarded its wealth of gold and treasure. 

It could be hidden and guarded no longer. Men now labored strenuouslywith pick and shovel in the bed of the golden stream; nor stopped forsleeping; while accumulating riches filled their vaults to overflowing. 

In a small hut upon the beach lived the Eskimo woman and her boy. Herhusband had sailed with others for the north country, and the two wereunprovided for and alone. With industrious fingers Estella made smalltrifles to sell to the white people in camp, many of whom carried heavypurses and coveted the souvenirs made by the natives. 

It was her only way of earning a poor subsistence for herself and boy. Her father and brothers supplied her with fish in summer and her wantswere not numerous. Like worn out footgear which had served its purpose, being perhaps well fitting and useful for a time, but after freshpurchases to be cast aside as worthless, was the native woman nowdiscarded. 

It was summer time in Alaska. Tundra mosses were at their freshest, andwild flowers bloomed and nodded on every side. It was the time forfishing, and Estella's relatives came to take her with them on theirannual excursion, when for a time she was happy trying to forget thewhite man's neglect. It was better than his abuse and curses which shehad meekly borne; but which still sorely rankled in her bosom. Herparents did not upbraid her. They appeared to have forgotten the girl'spride on her wedding day, and had only kind words for their sad-hearteddaughter in her trouble. But sympathy alone could not put food in hermouth nor that of her boy, and winter was approaching. 

Her parents had many children, and others depended upon them, and littlewith which to feed them. The fishing season had been a poor one. Netsand seines had been placed in streams as usual by the Eskimo, but manyof these had been destroyed by white men, and where this was not thecase the waters of creeks and rivers had been so muddied by miningoperations as to ruin all chances of securing fish. 

 * * * * *

It was a cold and wintry night. The snow was sifting over the tundra inicy gusts from the westward. Morning would see all snow-hidden, including the huts of the four remaining natives on the sandspit betweenthe river and the sea. 

Estella's camp fire was dead. There was neither sticks nor coals to feedit. A long-drawn wail from her boy lying huddled in skins upon theground, reminded her of other deficiencies--there was nothing to eat inthe igloo--absolutely nothing. Both were cold and hungry. 

Wrapping herself and her little boy as warmly as possible, she took thechild's hand and started down the street of the mining camp in theblizzard. There were places open to her. There were the saloons. Theywere at least filled with warmth and brightness, and she would there besafe from freezing till morning. There were undoubtedly other dangers, but these she could not now contemplate. She could not let her babyfreeze while starving. 

Making her way along with her boy between the winter blasts, the littleone clinging tightly to her hand, she approached the door. 

Lights were shining brightly through the windows, and she heard voices. Would she meet her husband if she entered? She hoped not, for she mustgo in. It was death to remain outside. Timidly she placed her hand uponthe door and partly opened it, glancing quickly about the room to noteits occupants. 

The flaring of the lamps indicated her presence. 

[Illustration: "_The little one clinging tightly to her hand sheapproached the door_"]

"Shut the door, you beggar!" shouted the bartender. "Don't you know thewind is blowin' and lights will go out? Besides its deuced cold night, and coal costs money, you know, Stella, " added the fellow less savagely, as, glancing quietly at him, and leading her boy, she slowly movedtoward the big coal stove. 

"Let 'em warm themselves, can't you?" exclaimed one of the men sittingat a table and shuffling cards for a game. 

"Whose hinderin' 'em? I aint! All I'm objectin' to is the length of timeshe held the door open when she came in. "

"Wal, she's in now, and the door's shut, aint it?" drawled the cardplayer. 

"Yes. "

"Then close your gab!" and lowering his tone to his partner opposite hesaid shortly, "Play, wont you?"

In the meantime Estella was warming herself beside the fire. On herknees she held the boy whose head soon drooped drowsily in spite of hishunger. 

It was a long, bare room, newly boarded as to ceiling, flooring andwalls. A smooth and shining counter stretched along the west side ofthe room, behind which stood rows of well filled bottles, ready to beuncorked. For ornament, upon the opposite wall there hung a greatmirror, trying its best to duplicate the owner's stock in trade, asthough he would be needing such help before the winter was over, whenhis whiskies were gone. For further brightening the room there hungsuspended from gilt buttons close below the ceiling, certainrepresentations of personages in garments too filmy to assure theobserver that they were intended for this Arctic world, becauserivalling the costumes of two solitary gardeners in the long ago. 

However that may be, the pictures did not disturb Estella--as to theminers they were accustomed to these and many other sights. Somethingfar worse to her troubled the Eskimo. It was hunger. 

Suddenly one of the loungers, considerably younger that the others, saidto his neighbors:

"I'll bet she's hungry. "

"Very likely, Sam, they mostly always are. There's nothin' here to eatif she is, by George. "

"There's plenty of booze!"

"Yes, at two bits a drink. "

"Then straightening himself in his seat the first speaker called out:

"Stella!"

"What?" answered the woman in a low voice. 

"Are you hungry?"

Quick as thought she raised her head and looked appealingly into hisface. 

"Yes. " Her lips trembled, and tears sprang into the dark eyes. 

"Have you had anything to eat to-day?"

"No--little fish yesterday, " she said quietly, holding up one finger toindicate the number. 

"Good God! She's starving! Here, you toddy slinger, there! I say, can'tyou give this woman something to eat?" to the man behind the bar. 

"Wal, I'm sorry to say it, but there aint no grub here; leastwise that'sgood for Eskimo, " he added with a wink. 

"I guess most anything would be good for her, and you hand out somethingreal sudden, too, " said the young man, tossing a bright silver dollartoward the counter. 

"Oh, wal', if that's the game, I'm here. Oyster cocktail and crackers, eh, Stella?"

The woman's eyes brightened at the last words, which she understood; thefirst she was a stranger to, but if it was something to fill the awfulvoid beneath she could eat it. She nodded eagerly. 

Beggars could not be choosers. That was never plainer than now. Cocktailand crackers soon disappeared, a good share of the latter goingunderneath the woman's parkie to keep for her boy when he awaked. Thecocktail he must not have. 

An hour later a few of the miners played on. Some, whose well filled"pokes" permitted had gone to warm and comfortable beds, others to coldand cheerless bunks, as the case happened; but the Eskimo woman, withher sleeping boy on her lap, slept heavily. Sitting on the floor in acorner, with her head against a bench, she had for a time forgotten hersorrows. 

Presently the door was partly opened, and an Eskimo slipped softlyinside. The men were still intent on their "black jack", and he wasunnoticed. His anxious face perceptibly brightened when he saw Estella, and he gave a deep sigh of relief as he seated himself near the fire. 

There was a lull between games at the green table. 

"Say, boys, what's become of Buster?" asked one of the miners. 

"Gone to the devil, I guess. That's where he was goin' the last time Isaw him, " remarked one in no uncertain tone of voice. 

"Oh, no, he's married a white woman, " exclaimed the youngest of theparty. 

"Ha, ha! That's a good 'un. My lad, I'm older'n you, and I tell you itmay be as you say and still not alter the case of his goin' to the oldboy. Some women I know of help a man faster that way than t'other, " saidthe old miner. 

"Buster's a chump! Just look at all the money he's made off the nativesand see the way he treats 'em!" jerking his thumb over his shouldertoward the two asleep in the corner. 

"And that kid of his'n. He ought to take care of him instead of lettin'him starve to death like this. I swear its a shame!"

"Yes, he ought to, " from another of the group, "but he wont. "

"When I was a kid I was told that a bird what can sing and wont singshould be made to sing, and that fits Buster now. "

"Oh, well, Alaska's a big place, and there's plenty of natives. It don'tmatter if a few does die off, There'll be enough left, I reckon, "carelessly remarked a man who had not spoken. 

"You go 'way back and set down, Tenderfoot; you've allers got a pimpleon yer nose! Don't you s'pose that Eskimos feel or sense things? I do. Ithink that such people as this, 'Stella now, orter be lookedafter, --'specially with that boy of her'n, for he's a likely kid, andmight make somethin'. Wonder why the big guns at Washington don't try ahand at helpin'? Seems to me they could if they'd a mind. " The man endedhis speech in a lower tone of soliloquy. 

"Easy to tell others what ter do, aint it, boss?" queried one. 

"I s'pose that's so; but I was thinkin' of my own woman and kids athome, and how I'd feel to see 'em starving!" Then as though regrettingthe turn the conversation had taken, he reached for his furs, and whilepulling his parkie over his head preparatory to leaving, said morebriskly: "I'm goin' to bed, boys; you better do the same; it's nearmornin', " and with that he left the saloon. 

Presently the little boy stirred and whimpered. Instantly the motherroused herself, though with some effort, and the crackers were broughtto light. The child was ravenous, and ate greedily. When he had finishedthe Eskimo by the fire came toward them, saying a few words softly inhis own tongue. With that the boy put out his arms and the man took him, going back to his place by the fire. 

The woman had changed her position, and was soon again asleep. 

When daylight came, the bartender began moving about. He thought thenatives had better get into the fresh air, as he wanted to clean theplace, he said. 

With that the two Eskimos plodded out through the snowdrifts; the mancarrying the child in his arms. 

The blizzard had died away, and the air was still and cold. When theyreached the woman's door they entered, the man first pushing away thesnow with his feet, the child still cuddling in his arms. 

Beside the camp stove lay piled a heap of small driftwood sticks and asack of coal. Upon the table a few eatables had been deposited, evidently some hours before. A fire was soon crackling, and a meal wascooking. To the woman's questions the man had not replied. He might havebeen a deaf man, for all the notice he had taken. She still questioned, speaking their native dialect. When all was done he came close, took herhand in his own, and, speaking in Eskimo, said feelingly:

"My little sweetheart, wont you let me love you now? Many long and wearymoons have I waited until my heart is very sore. Tell me if you cannotlove me? I will be very good and you shall never starve. I will work. Iwill bring much driftwood. I have salmon and tomcod, and a dog-team ofthe best. In summer we will sail for Tubuktulik and make a pleasanthunting camp. There we will shoot squirrels and the big bear, and youshall again be happy with freedom. "

At this effort of long speaking the Eskimo seemed abashed, for he was aman of few words usually; but he still clung to the little hand of thewoman by his side. 

"And my boy?" she whispered eagerly, with tears shining in her eyes, which were now looking unreservedly into his own. 

"He shall be mine, and I will ever love him, " was the reply, as sheglanced proudly toward the baby amusing himself with the sticks. 

"You are gentle to Stella, and she will do all things as you say, "murmured the woman softly, with drooping head, and trembling. 

"And will you love me always, little one?" putting his arms about herand pressing her dose to his heart. 

"Yes, always and forever. Then I will not be alone, " she smiled brightlythrough her tears at the prospect, while nestling closer in his strongarms. 

"Never alone again, dear one. I promise, if your heart will only loveme, " said he, kissing her; and the child at play among the driftwoodsticks gravely gave a handful to his mother. 

"He shall call you his papa, " said she almost gaily, "for will it not betrue?"

CHAPTER VI

WHY MIDAS FAILED

It was in the Fall of the year 19-- that a party of miners outfitted inNome and started for the Arctic. One of them had been in that vicinitybefore, was familiar with the trails, and had some acquaintance with thenatives of that section. 

Like all real "sourdough" miners they knew how to speak a good manywords in Eskimo, especially young Gibbs, who had wintered there. 

Not only did it please the natives to have the white men use the Eskimolanguage because it showed friendliness, but it made bargaining easierfor all. 

It was not, however, for the purpose of trading that this party of fivemen were making a long, cold and tedious trip to the Selawik River. 

They were looking for gold. It was late in November when the creeks andrivers were frozen, and the swamps and tundra could be everywherecrossed; and as the weather was not so severe as it would be later, andthe snow was not so deep it was considered the best time of the year forstarting the expedition. 

There were three dog-teams and as many heavy sleds, packed tightly withall manner of necessary equipments--fur sleeping bags, tents, clothingof skins, and food supplies in the smallest possible compass, besidesfrozen tomcod for the malamutes. 

To be sure, reindeer would have been more expeditious, and would havehunted their own provender, thus lightening the loads on the sleds, aswell as making a delicious food for the men in case of a shortage ofprovisions; but there were none of these animals at Nome and the dogswere substituted. 

It was a long journey. The prospect was one of great hardship and evensuffering to those not accustomed to a miner's life; but to these hardymen of Alaska, inured as they had been to the cold of this northland, itwas a real pleasure trip which was looked forward to with keenestinterest. 

The direction they wished to take was due northeast from Nome to theSelawik River; and at that place their plans would be further perfected. Their object was to find virgin gold--placer gold--to discover it insuch quantities that all might become rich; and incidentally, aftertheir own wants had been supplied, those of the gentlemen whose moneyhad outfitted them would be considered--perhaps. 

They were already on the trail, at any rate, with all they needed upontheir sleds and in their pockets; the gentlemen in question were faraway--too far to interfere with their movements; in fact, had gone toLondon for the season and could not return for many months. 

This was their opportunity. They proposed to use it for their ownadvantage unless prevented by some unforeseen calamity which should endtheir lives; at least, this was the way two of the miners expressedthemselves in the little roadhouse at Keewalik after many days of hardtravel from Nome. 

Drinks and tobacco were passed over the counter. Goodbye greetings werebeing exchanged. 

"Hope you'll strike it rich and let us in on the ground floor, Dunbar, "called out one of the loafers to the oldest man of the party about toleave. 

"Thanks, awfully; I'll remember, " replied the man addressed, laughing, but without promising. "So long!"

"So long, " called out the bartender in reply. Then to those in the room:"Them fellers are hittin' the trail in good shape with all they need forsix weeks, but when that's gone they'll have ter come to us to fill upagain. There aint no other place this side of Nome to buy a hunk ofterbac that I knows of, eh, Curley?"

"Nope, nor drinks, nor grub neither, by Jove!" removing the smutty cobpipe from between his teeth in order to smile widely as was habitualwith Curley. 

"I wish 'em much joy with that Selawik gang, " said the man behind thebar. 

"Well, there's a few whites there, and then there's ole Kuikutuk and hisbrood, besides a dozen other natives. Does the ole shaman's squaw stilllive in his igloo?"

"Oh, yes, I guess so. She did the last I heerd, " answered the other. 

"Ole Kuik better look sharp when Gibbs gits there, for I have heerd thatthe young fool was awful sweet on his pretty woman last year, " and widesmiling Curly pulled his parkie hood over his head preparatory toleaving the roadhouse, after delivering himself of this piece of gossip. 

"Them chaps is swelled up now all right enough, but just wait a bit. They may come back with their feathers picked, for the job they'vestruck aint a summer picnic, and that's no josh, either. "

In this manner were the departed miners and their actions commentedupon; not in the most complimentary way, to be sure, as is the customwith many when those around them seem prosperous. 

In the meantime the prospectors pushed on. Lakes, rivers and mountainswere crossed. In the latter the lowest passes and the most used trailswere selected, but these were always rough and bewildering at best--afew blazoned spruces on the hills or hatchet-hacked willows near thecreeks, a tin can placed upon a stake or a bit of rag flying from atwig; all these but poorly marked the paths which were seldom pressed bythe foot of a human being. Weeks might elapse, or months even, when nosoul passed that way. Perhaps the whir of a partridge's wing as he flewfrom one feeding ground to another on the tundra was the only sounddisturbing the still air for hours; or when a red fox, made sprightly byhunger, left as few foot-prints on the snow as possible, by leaping withgreat bounds forward to the hills. 

Buckland River and its tributaries were left behind. No gold of anyaccount had as yet been found in their vicinity, and the miners hurriedon. Time was precious, for food was disappearing and severe weather wasapproaching. 

Finally, at the close of a short winter's day in December, the threedog-teams drew their sleds into the camp at Selawik. Flinging themselvesupon the snow in their harness the patient brutes looked appealinglyinto their masters' faces. Then, as if by instinct they understood thathere they would stop for some days, tense and tired muscles relaxed, each pointed furry head was laid between two weary little feet, and themalamutes rested. They had well earned the rest. 

Here in the midst of a forest of small firs the boughs of which werestill covered with snow as if it had just fallen, rose the chimneys ofperhaps a half dozen log cabins and igloos, the latter appearing to besimply burrows from which smoke was slowly issuing; but being in realitythe winter homes of the Selawik Indians or Eskimo. 

The latter usually lived in filth and squalor, it being their habit toperform only the most necessary labor, and that, too, with the leastamount of effort. The women were the workers, performing the major partof every duty. 

In the igloo of the shaman, or medicine man, however, it was different. The old native had lost his first wife and married another and youngerone, the pretty woman spoken of by wide-mouthed Curley in the Keewalikroadhouse some days before. She was a full blooded Eskimo, as was theshaman, but had enjoyed the advantages of travel, having visited in theNome country; remaining for a time also in the mission house atKotzebue. 

[Illustration: _The pretty woman . .. Was a full-blooded Eskimo_]

Among the Selawiks she was accounted a beauty. Her cheeks were rosythough high-boned, her skin dark but clear, and her lips, not toofull for symmetry, repeated the tint of her cheeks artistically. She wasfond of weaving bright bits of color into the two long braids of blackhair, and decorating in many different ways her fur parkies and mukluks. She was proud of keeping her house and person as tidy as possible, whileher versatility allowed her the use of many English words and sentences. 

It was not long after his arrival in camp the year before, that theyoung prospector and miner, Gibbs by name, began looking upon the wifeof the old shaman, Kuiktuk, in a way that boded trouble for someone. 

The old Eskimo was not slow to perceive it. It was not his custom totalk much, but he was often, though silent, an intensely interestedobserver of the white man who so often came to his igloo. 

The shaman's wife flirted. Then the shaman sorrowed. Like a philosopherhe bore his trouble for some months until the spring came, the snow andice left the Selawik, the young white man's supplies were low, and hewas finally seen poling his small boat down the river to the Kotzebue, apparently leaving forever. 

Then Kuiktuk took courage, picked up the broken ends of his matrimonialcable, and putting them together as best he could, devoutly hoped he hadseen the last of the youthful lover. 

Now, after a year, he returned. Not only so, but he had brought otherswith him who might aggravate the situation; and the old Eskimo's heartwas sore. Gibbs and his men had made for the shaman's igloo soon aftertheir arrival in the camp. What would happen next?

He knew their object. They were searching for gold, guided by the man hehated but whom his wife loved. She and her former admirer were alreadyrenewing their acquaintance of the year before, to the sorrow andmortification of the shaman. 

The men had brought trading tobacco, tea and coffee, with which to gainfavor with the Eskimos while they talked of the unknown country aboutthem, its possibilities and probabilities. Did the natives know of goldin this region? Had they seen the shining metal in any of the nearbycreeks or rivers during the summer? Had there been reports fromneighboring tribes of any such discoveries?

These and many like inquiries were made by the men, but were answered inthe negative. 

The shaman kept silent. 

This was finally noticed by Gibbs, who immediately imagined that herewas the only source from which the desired information could be gained. 

Kuiktuk had intended it so. 

In his corner of the igloo he had ruminated long and earnestly. Threedays had the miners already spent in the camp of the Eskimos, and unlessthey were encouraged in their own way--that is, unless they were giventhe explanation they sought, they might remain here a month longer;which stay would doubtless bring greater disgrace to the shaman'shousehold than ever; the sooner they were told where to find the goldthe better for all concerned; when they would again take to the trail, and he would be left in the undisputed possession of his Selawik wifewhom he loved. 

"Cow-cow" and calico were kept in store for the natives (the white mensaid) who would point the way or guide them to a spot rich in thedesired mineral; and who needed these things more than he and hisfamily, reasoned Kuiktuk. 

It was really no matter if the gold creeks were omitted altogether; heshould by good rights have the cow-cow and calico. There were reindeerskins which had been secured the year before by Gibbs, but which he hadforgotten to pay for; and lastly, there were damages which should besettled, for had not the young miner stolen his wife's affections andwell nigh broken his heart?

Thus Kuiktuk continued to reason. He was not revengeful by nature; hecould easily have slipped a deadly draught into the drinking cup of theman, but he had no wish to kill. He only thought to send Gibbs awayabout his business in order that his own peace of mind might be leftundisturbed. To be sure, he might return to Selawik unless entirely putout of the way, but that risk would have to be borne. 

Gold-bearing creeks and rivers were little thought of by the Eskimos. Their use for gold was small. Given an igloo, a boat, fishing andhunting tackle, and they were happy and satisfied; but the white manshould be taught to let the wives of the Eskimos alone, and that, too, right early. 

All this, and a great deal more, passed through the mind of the shaman. 

On the evening of the third day after the arrival of the miners, whileall sat smoking before the fire, Kuiktuk decided to act. 

Taking his pipe from his mouth he pulled himself slowly together as ifabout to speak. 

"Say, Kuiktuk, old man, what is it? Can you tell us where to find theyellow stuff we look for?" keenly inquired Dunbar. 

The Eskimo slowly nodded. 

"Is it far from here?"

A shake of the head in reply. 

"How far? Where?" eagerly asked the men in a breath. 

He pointed in a southeasterly direction. 

"How many sleeps?" inquired Gibbs, meaning to ask how many days' journeyit was. 

Kuiktuk held up the fingers of one hand. 

"He says its a five days' 'mush' from here, " interpreted Gibbs. 

"Will you go with us to the place?" from Dunbar. 

"Me want cow-cow ameluktuk, " mumbled the medicine man slowly. 

"Yes, yes, you shall have the cow-cow, " impatiently cried Dunbar, "butnot until you show us the place. "

"Me want cow-cow ameluktuk, " again muttered the man, still slowly butmore firmly. 

"Oh, he wants the grub before we leave, " said Gibbs. 

"The devil he does!" cried another, who then tried to explain to Kuiktukthat he must produce the gold-bearing creek before he was given the foodin payment. 

The native was obstinate. 

"Cow-cow peeluk, gold peeluk, " indifferently, from the medicine man, going back to his pipe in the corner as if not caring for furtherconversation. 

"He means no grub, no gold--or we must give him the supplies first, elsewe don't get the creek, " again interpreted Gibbs. 

"To the dogs with the fellow!" cried one. 

"He wants the whole cheese. "

"Let him keep his creek and be--blessed!"

"Forget it, boys, and come to the Kobuk with me, " laughed one. 

"Let's give him the calico and beads, but cut out the grub, " finallyfrom one of the most generous, while Kuiktuk sat stolidly smoking. 

The latter would not compromise. The men hated to part with thesupplies, but dreaded far worse to lose the prospect of that good creeksaid by the native to contain gold. It might prove another Anvil, whocould tell? Possibly it was not so far away as the fellow said, Eskimoswere never well up in time and distances, and knew nothing ofprospectors' methods. 

This was what Dunbar argued, and he, being the eldest of the party, wasfinally allowed his way, and that was to pay the shrewd trader hisprice, delivering to him the supplies agreed to on the next day beforethey started out upon their stampede to the creek. 

"Then in case the old fellow has lied about the gold, " said Gibbs, "we'll hang him to the nearest tree. "

A consultation of miners, including Kuiktuk was held. Plans for the tripwere laid, the route selected and all preparations completed. The shamanwould lead the men up the Selawik Rive; to its head waters, as thetrails on the ice, though poor, were level and much better than acrossthe country, where mountain ranges intercepted. They would then head duesouth. 

Only this much of his plan did the old Eskimo reveal. Secretly he wishedto lead the men by ways they could not possibly traverse in returning. In doing the latter they would not wish to break a new trail unguidedthrough an unexplored region of such magnitude, and by spring the icewould be leaving the Selawik. 

As they had no boats it would be impossible for them to return as theyhad come. If they came to Selawik during the summer, he, and his familyand friends would be away on their annual fishing excursion and theirigloos would be deserted. 

Thus the Shaman planned before the start was made for Midas. 

The weather was not severe and signs were propitious for "mushing". Themen were clothed in reindeer skins, with sleeping bags of the samematerial; their dogs were fresh, and they themselves were well fed andrested. 

A hundred miles or more were as nothing to them as compared to the tripfrom Nome. 

At last the head waters of the Selawik were reached under Kuiktuk'sguidance. No white man had they seen. A few Eskimo huts were passed;game was more abundant, and as they came into heavily wooded countrywith guns and ammunition they supplied themselves with ptarmigan andother winter fowl of various kinds. Then they hoped to kill a caribou orreindeer which would furnish food for the malamutes as well as forthemselves. 

By this time three of the party hung back. With the Eskimo guide theynumbered six. To penetrate still farther into an unknown wilderness atthis season with an insufficient food supply would be foolhardy; itwould be better for them to return to Nome by the shortest trail andagain secure provisions. 

This course was finally adopted. 

Dunbar and Gibbs, accompanied by their guide, one day longer, were topush on as speedily as possible to the wonderful creek, while the otherswould return to Nome. Here they were to rest quietly until the two hadmade fast their stakes on Midas, and also returned to the city forsupplies. In the meantime, the ones to reach the latter place first wereto give out the news of the discovery of a magnificent new section, thecenter of which was a gold-bearing creek of amazing richness. Here was achance to excite the credulity of the people of Nome, than whom therewere none more willing and anxious to learn of new and rich golddiscoveries; and the possibility occurred to the miners that money withwhich to prospect the new Midas might be collected from the citizens. 

With this understanding the men parted; Kuiktuk remaining with Dunbarand Gibbs for another day, when, giving them full and explicitdirections as to the route to the creek, as well as a completedescription of the same, he started back to his own camp. 

Again the two men pushed southward. 

"We're up against it now, Dunbar, " laughed Gibbs, "and its a question ofwho'll win out. If it hadn't been for the old rascal's appetite we wouldhave made Kuiktuk come the entire way to Midas; but he lowered our grubso fast it was no use. "

"No, but be sure you don't lose his rude map and directions to Midas inyour notebook. Without them we would indeed be up against it, as yousay, " replied the older man, seriously, as they were making their wayacross the big "Divide" when the native had left them. 

Snow was now beginning to fall in large flakes; a storm signal, and onethey liked little. The temperature was falling. It was quite dark atthree o'clock in the afternoon, and they were obliged to travel bysnow-light. When camp was finally made, after halting for the night in athicket of pine and spruce trees, the men were cold, tired and hungry. 

Close under the branches of the pine trees they pitched their littletent for shelter. A big fire of logs and branches was kindled in front. The weary malamutes and their masters had eaten, and lay stretched uponthe ground, the men in sleeping bags, thrown upon boughs from thethicket; the dogs upon the snow near the fire. 

The latter was to be replenished during the night from the pile ofsticks just gathered, and the animals would act as sentinels in case awolf or bear happened to stray that way. 

Oh, the loneliness of that winter's night; they were surrounded by asheeted wilderness, how far from human habitation they did not know. Nomoon or stars gave light to cheer the wanderers, but instead, snowfalling heavily and noiselessly over all. No winds stirred among thepines, causing them dead silence. The one solitary sound to be heard atintervals was the snapping in the fire of some pine knot, long sincebroken and dead upon the ground, or clipped from its parent stem by theaxe of the prospector. 

When the storm had cleared and the two miners were able to look aboutthem sufficiently, they discovered the creek described by Kuiktuk. 

It lay between high hills, locked in the icy grip of an Arctic winter. On the southern exposure of these hills grew fir, pine and spruce treesof no great size, but still invaluable to prospectors in this otherwiseinhospitable region. Had it been in summer time one could have seen anarrow and sinuous creek flowing in a northeasterly direction, emptyingitself into a much larger and more sinuous stream which trendedeasterly and united with the great Koyukuk. 

There were but a few low-lying "benches" to be found. The hills wereeverywhere. They sprang from the earth like mushrooms in a moist garden. Their summits were rock-ribbed and sides boulder-strewn. 

Worse than all else the rock was granite. No miner of experience in thiscountry hoped to find gold in a granite section; it had never been knownto accompany such a formation in Alaska, and these men well knew thatthey were check-mated. 

There was no gold there. 

They had been duped. When further investigation had confirmed the truthof their first fears the rage of these men knew no bounds. Gibbs, especially, raved like a madman, and swore dire vengeance on the nativewho had been the cause of their disappointment. 

It was all clear to his mind now. The old man whom he had thought sodocile and inoffensive as he sat in his igloo corner smoking his pipe, was in reality not what he appeared, but a being like other men, havingthe same sensibilities and passions. There was no doubt now that he hadfelt the greatest resentment to the young man's course in regard to hiswife, and had quietly plotted against him with this result. 

Dunbar was angered that he, an innocent man, should have been made thescapegoat for the shortcomings of his companion; declaring that in doingthis Kuiktuk had overreached himself. If he had wanted to punish Gibbshe should not have selected the whole party of five to wreak hisvengeance upon in this manner, not knowing when they left Selawik thatthree of their number would return so soon to Nome. The three latterwere in reality as much dupes of the old native as they themselves, forhad they not gone on to town to spread the news of the splendid golddiscovery?

From this standpoint the matter was reasoned upon by the two men sittingbefore their camp fire, and ended as usual in an explosion of violentwrath on the part of the young miner. 

"Oh, quit your cursing, Gibbs, " at last exclaimed the older man, ill-naturedly, "and let's decide what can be done. I have a plan which Iwill unfold to you if you can stop swearing long enough to listen. "

"What is it?" moodily asked Gibbs. 

"Let the boys go on to Nome and tell as many big yarns as they likeabout this rich old creek. When we get there we'll go them one betterand make the eyes of the Nomites stand out in wonderment. We will thencollect money from as many persons as we can successfully hoodwink intobelieving our stories and then skip back to the Koyukuk. When the icehas left the rivers we can change our currency into gold dust at sometrading post and quietly leave for the 'outside'. Afterwards, if wewish, we can carry this scheme a point farther and on the outside sellMidas ground to all who are easily gullible. See?"

As the man said this he leaned forward to get a closer view of hislistener's face. What he saw encouraged him to proceed. 

"What do you say, will you do it?'"

"It is the only honorable way out of the scrape, eh?" laughed the other. 

"Honor be d----d!" exclaimed Dunbar. "Will you do this or not?"

"I will. "

"Shake!"

The two men then shook hands, sealing a compact diabolical to the lastdegree, and without further hesitation started for Nome the nextmorning. 

There was great excitement in Nome. Five miners had returned from theKoyukuk country and given out information of a gold "strike" ofexceeding richness. Three of these men had arrived before the others, but all told the same story. A Selawik Eskimo, they said, had recentlyguided them to the creek where their own discoveries had confirmed hisstatement. Nothing so rich had they ever before seen. The creek gavepromise of being one of the most famous placer gold diggings that hadever been found in Alaska; was in fact a veritable Golconda, and thereturned prospectors dilated upon the interesting details of their storywith evident enjoyment. They stated that the formation of the countrywas the very best for gold indications; that the creek was wide andshallow, the benches were broad, and the hills few in number but longand sweeping like the famous hills of Solomon and Anvil. 

The two miners went further. While expatiating to their listeners uponthe extent of the possible and probable contents of their new creek, each man exhibited with much gusto a medium-sized "poke" partly filledwith coarse gold and nuggets which they had panned (they affirmed) fromthe gravel bed of the stream after cutting away the ice sufficiently;and with these and other plausible tales were the good people of Nomefor weeks entertained. 

To their three companions Dunbar and Gibbs gave no hint regarding theiractual experiences at Midas. 

The secret was safer with two than five; but five men could arousegreater interest and raise more funds for their schemes. For this reasonthe two leaders kept their own counsel, but urged the spreading of thefalse reports. 

Money soon began to flow into their pockets. Everyone wished to have ahand in this wonderful "strike", and all were willing to pay for suchinterests. Not only did mining men go into their bank books, but clerks, stenographers, and small tradespeople passed out their hard-earnedmoney. Women also felt reluctant to be left behind at a time of suchwondrous opportunity, and plunged their hands into all sorts of nooksand crannies for their long hoarded but smaller denominations. 

 * * * * *

A few months and the scene was changed. Two miners poled their smallboats down the Koyukuk River. Winter was gone, taking ice and snow withit. Instead of these, the waters of the great river, fed by melted snowand tributaries, surged on mightily, now whirling in swift rapids wherehuge boulders impeded their progress; or to lower levels where greenislands caused a division of the floods allowing reunion later. 

The men in the boat talked little. They managed to drift past theprincipal mining camps during the night in order not to be much seen. Tobe sure, there was no darkness at this time of the year, but the campswere not stirring much through the night; and in the event of a nearapproach to a trading post in daylight they rested a few hours among thewillows on the river banks or upon some island in mid-stream. When theyhad slept and eaten before their camp fire their journey was resumed. 

In the bow of the boat lay two sacks of very great weight. They were notlarge, but were made of strong, thick material, such as is used fortents. Great care was given these sacks by the two men. At every haltalong the river they were carefully lifted out upon the ground above thereach of the water, and covered by some article of clothing or bedding. 

The sacks contained gold. 

The men had come from Nome to the Koyukuk, where at a small trading postthey had changed a large amount of currency into gold dust and nuggets, mined from adjacent creeks. With this they were making their way southto the Yukon River where they intended to go quietly on board a steamerheading up stream, thus making their way to the Klondyke and later tothe States. 

Reaching the Yukon River, a small steamer was hailed; they boarded herand soon smoked contentedly on deck in the sunshine. 

"Are you going on to 'Frisco' as you first thought of doing, Dunbar?"inquired Gibbs, for these were the two Midas Creek promotors. 

"You bet I am, and you go, too, for you are pledged to the scheme to theend, you know. You won't back down now, will you?" with some anxietythe question was asked by Dunbar. 

"I couldn't with honor, old man, could I?" and the young miner laughed, tossing a handful of gold nuggets up in the air and carelessly catchingthem as he spoke. 

"There you go again!" said the other, "If I were you I would cut out allthe small talk about honor after this. It isn't consistent. "

"Agreed, but one likes to hear oneself mention the word occasionally asa reminder that there is such a thing. Then, too, if one chanced to beoverheard it might make a good impression on somebody, " winked thefellow slyly. 

"I never thought of that to be sure. You may be young in years butyou're not in wickedness. I believe you'll do. If you're not afraid itwill injure that blessed honor of yours, go fetch another bottle of thebest champagne from the bar, will you?"

"You bet I will. I'll get two of them while I'm getting, " and Gibbssauntered away with his hands in his pockets after tossing his cigaretteover the steamer rail. 

When Gibbs returned he was followed by a waiter who carried a tray withbottles and glasses. In their wake were others who had quicklyresponded to the young miner's invitation to drink with them, and theywere all presently hilarious. 

In this way were the two men scattering the contends of their goldsacks--their's by right of possession only; but really belonging to thetownspeople of Nome. Little cared the two men how quickly the gold sackswere empty for they had the ability to replenish them when they liked. They were smooth talkers, told plausible tales, looked one squarely inthe eye while speaking, and bore no marks to the casual observer of therascality underneath. 

If people were so easily taken in it was their own look-out, and servedthem right--this was a much quicker and easier way of mining the creekgold than with pick and shovel--nobody need be poor--"we will soon havemoney to burn, and might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb;" thesewere some of the arguments and observations made by the two miners asthey proceeded up the river on their way to the "outside" and the sceneof their future operations. 

 * * * * *

A year passed. In the great Koyukuk country the summer had come againand with it new life and activity in the way of prospectors andsettlers. Craft of all shapes and sizes could be seen trying to forcetheir way against the current of the great river. There were scows, houseboats, and small steamers. Families there were on flat boats whichappeared to hold the earthly possessions of many. Tents were pitched onscows, and camp stoves with their accompanying smoke stacks peepingthrough the canvas did full duty. Mining tools formed a large andconspicuous part of the supplies of the incoming prospectors, for theywere to exploit a certain rich section of country still in itsvirginity, and there were no trading posts near. 

In the multitude there were men, women and children. There were outfitscosting hundreds and even thousands of dollars, but all were full ofeager expectancy; for were they not coming to one of the richestgold-bearing sections in Alaska? And had not their funds preceeded themfor the purchase of claims soon now to be opened up by them?

It was small wonder that they were light hearted and worked early andlate to get to the desired place. All carried descriptions of the famouscreek and its surroundings, and each day eyes were strained in awesterly direction in the hope of catching a first glimpse of thepromised land. 

They had come from the Nome country, and a dozen different statesbesides; the Pacific coast being largely represented. They were there byscores from farms, from shops, from colleges, and from the great cities, and all were filled with highest anticipations. 

They were looking for the creek called Midas. 

They found it. 

Dunbar and Gibbs were not there, but the granite mountains were. Many ofthe first prospectors to ascend the creek left their outfits and poledeven farther in small boats. Many miles they toiled between banks soclose and around curves so sharp that there was small chance for turninga tiny craft; but on all sides it was the same. 

Winding in and out between great boulders of granite which had in sometremendous upheaval of nature been tossed aloft like snowballs from thehands of a schoolboy, the waters of this creek struggled, icy andsullen. 

A tall and distinguished looking gentleman sat in the stern of a boatwhile his men laboriously poled. He was from London. He had outfitted aparty of men in Nome many months before, and had come to find his goldclaims. 

No staking ground had been done. Close under a clump of pines theremains of a white man's camp in the shape of tin food cans, and brokencob pipes were found; while scattered near were the leaves of an oldnotebook and rudely traced map. 

No further proof was needed. It was the identical creek called Midas byDunbar and Gibbs. 

It was well for them that they were not there. 

The heart of Alaska in winter! It is more than pen can describe. Itsbeauty, grandeur, and immensity are feebly told in words. Snow and iceare everywhere, and that everywhere seems as great as the world. Hillsand mountains are here innumerable and majestic; while rivers and creeksunlimited in number and of untold wealth lie safely locked in Nature'sstorehouse by Nature's hand. The heavens are glorious! the noonday sunmaking the whole earth to sparkle with diamonds like the gems on aqueen's bosom; followed by hours illumined by a moon so softly andbrilliantly beautiful as to appear like the eye of a god. 

Fully as wonderful as in her gentler moods but far more terrible isAlaska when the great blizzard rages. There remains then no signs ofserenity. Whirlwind follows whirlwind; gales from the ends of the earthblow horribly and with frenzied swiftness, bearing upon their breath theicy points of millions of keen needles which bite like the stings ofinsects. Flying, sifting, drifting snow, which before formed jewels ofsuch exquisite beauty is now piled mountain high, or sucks itself withsavage fierceness through crannies and into deep gorges between highhills, thus creating a fitting accompaniment in the dangerous crevasse. 

Into this wilderness, north of the great Circle, and amid conditionslike these, one would scarcely hope to find white men penetrating. Probably not from choice would they enter; certainly by force ofcircumstances if at all; and these must have been the most desperate. Bethat as it may, a small trail of smoke one day made its way aloft from alog cabin half buried in the snow; while a pack of a dozen malamutesplayed about the door. A pile of logs and sticks of firewood, an axe, atin bucket, and dog-sleds near, gave undisputed evidence of the presencehere of someone besides natives. 

Entering the door, a visitor would have been welcomed by two occupants. One of them lay stretched upon his bunk in the corner of the room; theother, a younger man, threw some sticks upon the fire. 

They were arguing the question of breaking camp and pushing furthereastward. 

"If we can reach the Crow Mountains by spring, secure a boat at RampartHouse and work along to the Mackenzie River we are all right, " and thespeaker bent over a map of Alaska spread out before him. 

"From there to the coast is an easy matter, and to secure passage onsome whaler for Point Barrow will not be difficult; but afterward--"

"Yes, afterward, " interrupted the man upon the bunk, impatiently. "Whatabout afterwards?"

"We will find a way into Siberia or China where we can enjoy ourhard-earned gold, " with a sarcastic emphasis upon the three last wordsof his sentence, but laughing lightly. 

"There is no reason you should not do this, " was the reply, "but with meit is different. I am ill, and daily growing weaker. This isolation andenforced inaction takes the life out of me; my head grows dizzy frommuch thinking, and I see forms, spectres, and hobgoblins in all shapesand colors, " this was said complainingly and in a weakened voice. 

"My dreams are so horrible that I dread the prospect of night. "

"You're a fool to worry. Keep a stiff upper lip, and all will be well. See, I'm making a checker-board with which we can kill time when welike. "

"I'd like to kill the whole of it before it kills me, " was the response. "If I only had something to read or something to do. I'm sick of thisinfernal hole!"

"Ditto here, but what can we do? If we push on eastward now we willprobably be without shelter, and it is a long and tedious job to builda log cabin. With the thermometer at sixty degrees below zero as it iswe will freeze to death on the trail. "

"Much loss it would be, " growled Dunbar. 

"Then if we went back to the Koyukuk, " continued Gibbs, "we would besure to run into the arms of some of our numerous mining partners fromMidas, which we are in no hurry to do. We are now about half way betweenthe headwaters of the Koyukuk and the Canadian boundary line, and as weare fairly comfortable here, with plenty of game and firewood, and as weare not sure of finding a shelter for our heads if we move now, I thinkit wise to stay right here for two months longer at least. With ourhunting, eating, sleeping and checkers, the time will pass if we waitlong enough, " and the speaker resumed a lighter tone while trying toencourage the other. 

"I suppose you are right, boy, but I detest this kind of a life. "

"It's a heap better than being behind bars for a lifetime or feedingbuzzards while dangling from the limb of a tree. " Then seeing thehorror on his partner's face, he said with a mockingly polite bow, "Athousand pardons, old fellow, for such unpleasant allusions, but I wasonly seeking to make you more contented for your own good as well asmine. "

"I'm tired of it all, " sighed the older man wearily. 

"Oh, _no_, we're not tired of this, Dunbar, " seizing a gold sack fromamong a heap of them upon the ground in a corner of the cabin andemptying the shining nuggets upon the checkerboard. "These look as goodto me as ever, because I can see in them ease and luxury in somebeautiful southern clime, where the birds sing sweetly and the flowersbloom unendingly; where we can find sweethearts by the dozen and livelike sultans--by Jove, I wish I were there now. "

The other groaned aloud. He covered his face with his hands. 

"Take it away, take it out of my sight, I tell you. I hate it! I hateit!" he cried hoarsely and with eyes glaring, as he leaped from his bunkto the ground. 

The younger man knew that he had gone too far and tried to pacify him, putting the gold hastily away and covering it from sight. 

Afterwards when the older man had grown calmer, the two went for a hunt, followed by three of their dogs for company. The remainder of themalamutes kept watch by the camp in their absence. 

 * * * * *

The sun had long since sunk below the western horizon. Following in itswake great banks of luminous clouds swept by, finally culminating in aheavy sheet of haze. 

From this gradually sprung broad arches of light to the zenith; whilerays of brilliant crimson color ranged themselves perpendicularly fromearth to sky, shooting up and down with great velocity andtremulousness. In the zenith these arches slowly widened, their raysmultiplying until the whole sky was hidden, and then, deepening inintensity of color, became a veritable sea of blood, flowing steadilywestward. Over the vast and snowy Arctic waste this glorious flood ofcolor was pouring until no particle of whiteness remained. 

At the close of the day the hunters and their dogs were returning totheir cabin after having shot enough small game for some time. 

A solemn stillness had until now prevailed, when suddenly, withoutwarning, there were heard with startling clearness on the frosty airhissing or whizzing sounds, like the crackling of firebrands in afurnace. 

With the first appearance of the polaris in the heavens Dunbar becamegreatly excited, clutching the arm of his companion until he cried outwith pain. 

"It has come at last! Its the judgment! Its hell, hell! See the blood!See it on my hands--it covers everything. Hell's everywhere!" and theman shrieked, tearing his clothing from him and darting from side toside as if trying to escape some awful fate. 

In vain the younger man tried to quiet him. 

"The devil's coming! He'll get me! Keep him away!" he cried with curses, and he crouched at the feet of Gibbs, a wild-eyed, and screaming maniac. 

At that instant the crackling about their heads became louder, and theolder man sprang to his feet in a frenzy of fright. 

Leaping, shouting, cursing, flinging out his arms to imaginaryassailants, tearing his beard and his hair by handfuls, he ran to andfro, a raving madman. Then in an insane frenzy he turned his back on hiscompanion for one instant as if about to flee to the woods, when Gibbs, snatching his revolver from his belt, aimed it at the man's back andfired. 

Dunbar fell dead upon the ground. 

Until that moment the dogs, quite unconcerned at what was going on aboutthem, being intent only upon following their trail of the morning backto the cabin, now fled toward home, howling dismally. 

The young miner was now alone; utterly and entirely alone. Above andaround him shone the blood-red light from the heavens; at his feet thebody of his only friend--dead. 

Gibbs fainted. 

 * * * * *

The magnificent electrical hurricane of the night before had passedover, leaving behind one faithful sentinel--the moon. Lovingly andbrightly her beams were shed over the wilderness of snow whose puritywas marred by only two dark blots--the bodies of two men lying dead upontheir faces. The first died by the hand of the other. The second byfreezing. Both were suddenly called to that judgment so horribly fearedby the older man, who saw in the unusual display of the aurora polaristhe realization of his worst imaginings. 

So these two men fell; while the influence of their evil deeds continuelike the ripples on a lake surrounding a sinking stone; perhaps forever. 

 "For I hold it true that thoughts are things Endowed with body, breath and wings, And that we send them forth to fill The world with good results or ill. "

[Illustration]

CHAPTER VII

THE OLD STONE HOUSE

The inhabitants of Rainy Hollow were greatly disturbed. In the face offacts there really was justification for such excitement on the part ofthe miners, the issue at stake being an important boundary line betweentwo great nations. Those loyal to the stars and stripes, and supportingthemselves under the protection of their beloved colors, were surprisedto hear hinted the possibility of their being placed, against theirwill, under the jurisdiction of a foreign power, whose hand might easilyprove an arbitrary one. Restlessly they agitated the question at theirminers' meetings, with a dim hope that some solution of the troublewould present itself, and ultimately they would be left in the happypossession of properties for which they had endured strenuous hardshipsand from which they would only part when compelled. 

From the channel called Portland on the south, along the coast to thepinnacles of St. Elias, ten marine leagues were supposed from timeimmemorial to be defined; neither the channel, the salt water line, northe mountain's top having been materially changed as to configuration. From Mt. Elias a perpendicular line to the Frozen Ocean farther outlinedthe boundary between the two nations, this not being included, however, in the debatable country at this time. 

The question, then, before the miners, resolved itself into onepeculiarly simple. It was this: Had the line of demarcation beensuccessfully deflected in order to include the natural seaports of suchincreased importance since the gold discoveries in the Klondyke? and ifso, how? The line was far from being imaginary. In the long, long ago incertain places natural landmarks had been made use of by the Russians, but where they were not available monuments of stone had been erected atintervals, and these built in solid masonry had withstood theencroachments of the elements for more than fifty years. 

An old stone monument house built by the Russians almost a centurybefore was yet to be discovered by those of the "ten leagues" theory, and it must be searched for, but where, and by whom? If this could befound the authenticity of the old boundary line would be established, and those in authority could place their hands without hesitation uponproof which must be decisive. 

Finally, one beautiful day in summer, a miners' meeting was called, andthe Rainy Hollow men assembled to decide what they could do to assistthe government to put an end to the matter forever. 

A burly, old-time miner and pioneer called "Dick Dead-eye" by hisfellows, was made chairman of the meeting. This name was given himbecause he was a good marksman, having an eye which seldom failed him intaking aim with a gun. He was seconded by a stranger, who, having akeen, quick glance and well knit figure dressed appropriately inleathern trousers and leggings, sat at the chairman's right andevidently "meant business", as Billy Blue intimated on the aside to hiscompanions. 

"This meetin' will now come to order, " called out the chairman ofdead-shot fame, giving two or three good, hard thumps on the table withhis heavy fist. 

As the buzzing in the room ceased and each man gave his attention thespeaker continued. 

"You fellers all know why we came here to-day. We have with us one ofUncle Sam's men from Washington, D. C. He has been sent by ourgovernment to look up the matter of the boundary line between us and theYukon territory, and see if we can't git things settled rightly. "

At this a storm of applause greeted the speaker and along with theclapping of hands was heard the thud of the miners' heavy hob-nailedboots upon the floor in emphasis. 

The chairman waited for silence. When it came he said:

"I have the great honor and pleasure, gentlemen, to introduce to youLieutenant Adams, our friend from Washington. The lieutenant will giveus a talk, " and with that the chairman took his seat, while wiping awaythe perspiration incident to the exertion of conducting a meeting in thepresence of a man from Washington. 

The lieutenant rose quickly, and looking over the little band of miners, briskly addressed them as one of their number. 

"My friends, " said he, "you have all had experience in locating miningclaims, but we want you to locate something else in order that you maykeep possession of the ground you have, and that is the old RussianBoundary Line so long ago established by the first white settlers andtraders in Alaska. If we can verify the boundary now held by us as beingthe one established and held by them, you will be left in theundisturbed right of your property. "

"Hear! Hear!" exclaimed his enthusiastic listeners, causing the officerto smile. 

"You probably all know that our government bought Alaska from Russia afew years ago at what seemed at that time an enormous sum for a frozengood-for-nothing country. The transaction was designated 'Seward'sFolly', and the country was said to be a fit residence only for polarbears and Eskimos. The whale and seal industries were fast reachingextinction when gold was discovered, and this, too, in such vastquantities and widely separated districts as to enormously increase byleaps and bounds the value of the whole of Alaska. For this reason thematter of the boundary line has grown to be of immense importance, andin justice to our neighbors as well as to ourselves, it should now beauthoritatively settled once and forever. What I want to know is, howmany of those present will assist me in securing evidence of the oldboundary marks. It is a big undertaking. We shall need guides and boats. I understand what it means for miners to leave their work in the busysummer season, but this affair is urgent and cannot be delayed. Will youhelp me?"

"We will, we will!" cried the men enthusiastically. 

"I thank you heartily, and hope we shall soon accomplish our mission, "and with that the Lieutenant took his seat. 

Great applause followed, and again the cannonading of boots upon thefloor was put into action. 

The chairman arose and called for order. After a little time, duringwhich the men gave what information they could, it was arranged thatDick Dead-eye should be the Lieutenant's guide into the mountains. Theold pioneer was acquainted with Indians on the Klukwan River who hadlived in that vicinity for many years, and as he was conversant withthe Chilkat language he thought they could get the desired information. The Klukwan River was a tributary of the Chilkat, rising in themountains which should be their first objective point. 

In the late twilight of an Alaskan summer's day the keel of a littleboat grated upon the pebbles of the beach at Klukwan. Mission and thewest arm of Lynn had been left behind. Here two small rivers emptiedtheir mountain waters into the big Canal whose long, wet fingerspersistently pointed toward the Passes and the Golden North. Incidentally, also, they indicated the direction to the disputedBoundary Line, the exact whereabouts of which the pioneer "Dead-eye" andhis official companion had come to determine. For years the Lieutenanthad been engaged by the United States Government in making surveys alongthe southern coast of Alaska where he was no stranger to the Indians. These knew him, and he spoke their language, as did also the old hunter, trapper and pathfinder. 

For two decades had the old hunter forced long trails into the unknowncountry and blazed the way for those who were speedily to follow bythousands. To him Yukon and Selkirk were household words. 

So their landing at Klukwan was no new experience. In truth a cabin, substantially built of logs and stocked with edibles and other comforts, awaited the two hardy frontier-men. Had there been no such luxuries theywould have felt as much at home sleeping beside a camp fire in the open. They looked for those who could tell them of the doings of white men wholanded on these shores nearly a century before, and for those who couldpoint the way to boundary monuments wherever they were. Of necessitythey must look among the aged ones of Chilkats for information. 

On the day following their landing the Indians were assembled, andinquiry was made by the white men as to the location of the boundarymonuments. Had any of the people present ever seen such, or did theyknow where they were to be found?

Two or three then declared that they had seen, many years before, aRussian Boundary House and knew how to reach it; but they were too oldto walk so far, or climb the mountains. They said they would directsome younger Indian, and he should guide the white men to the spot. 

Their search, however, proved unavailing, for days they wandered aboutthe mountains and even reached the divide indicated by the old Indians;but nowhere could a Boundary House, or anything of a like description, be found. 

At last they returned to Klukwan for supplies and further instructions. There was evidently some mistake. 

A consultation was held. An Indian, who had been upon the identical spotof the Boundary House, must accompany the white men and indicate theplace, if possible. 

Some one mentioned the name of Old Tillie. She was too old to see well, her teeth were long since gone, and she dozed often. No one thought herable to walk any distance; but if she were strong enough she couldlocate the place, if anyone could. She had been there in her girlhood, seventy years before. When she was asked to guide the white men to themountains she slowly shook her head but said nothing. 

[Illustration: _When Old Tillie was young_]

"Well, Dick, " said the Lieutenant, "we may as well go home. It is toolate to do anything more to-day. It is supper time. "

Later, when their meal was finished, and tin cups and plates had beenput aside, the officer took from its nail an old banjo, and beganstrumming. Presently he was singing, and his rich, clear voice, admirably suited to the time, place and surroundings, filled the littlecabin and floated across to the green where the Indians camped. Songfollowed song, and the guide continually puffed his pipe near at hand. 

By and by, a form stood in the doorway. It was old Tillie. She had heardthe music and had hobbled over to the officer's cabin to listen. 

"Come in and sit down, Tillie, " called out the Lieutenant. "Do you likemusic?"

She smiled and nodded, accepting his invitation. 

"Shall I sing for you, Tillie?"

A low spoken affirmative came from the old creature, who had seatedherself near the entrance. 

"I'll see if I can remember a few lines in Chilkat that I wrote sometime ago, " said the musician, as he again touched the strings. 

It was only a simple song, descriptive of two Indian lovers, and it ranin this fashion:

 In western skies the sun dips low Above the purpled hills, While glinting waters and their flow The air with music fills. 

 Filmy and light as fairies' wings, The fading clouds descend, Touching with finger tips the strings While leaves on green boughs bend. 

 The lone loon's call unto his mate The rustle of the quail, Announce the day as growing late, And sunshine's pleasures fail. 

 Then out upon the quiet lake, In tiny birch canoe, Ageeluk and her lover make Their vows for weal or woe. 

 In Chilkat tongue the lover sings, The song all lovers know, To dusky maid with copper rings, Where long, lank rushes grow. 

 The shadows lengthen, slowly creep Across the water dark, While little waves are hiding deep, Around the lovers' bark. 

 Content, at last, these lovers leap Upon the steep bank's stone. The leaves are still, the birds asleep, And they are left alone. 

When he had finished the song he paused. Tillie seemed fast asleep. Shehad slipped to the floor at the beginning of the song, and sat with herhead upon her drawn-up knees, with her hands clasped above them. Shemade no move. The officer continued his singing, still softly, and in aretrospective mood. He was a born musician. His whole soul craved song, and the greatest deprivation to him in Alaska was the lack of music. Forthis reason, he kept his own banjo with him, and many an evening'sentertainment had he furnished in cabin and beside camp fire, when hisfine barytone mingled with an ascending cloud from burning spruce knots, and added enjoyment to the hour. 

At last the old Indian raised her head. Pushing back a few long wisps ofhair that had fallen over her face, she asked for water. Her mouthseemed parched and dry, and her withered lips scarcely moved. She hadjust seen the old stone house they were looking for, and would tell thewhite men of it, she said. 

"Is it the same you saw when a child?" asked the officer. 

"Yes, but broken, --the walls stand not. Last moon came men from thenorth while hunting. "

"What did they do?"

"They broke the house, --its walls are down, " mumbled the old woman witha scowl. 

"_How_ were they before, Tillie?"

"Before? Ah, before! In my childhood I saw it, --that Boundary House onthe summit. How green the spruce and pine trees, and the nuts thatdropped before snow-fall! What fires we made, and the roaring andsweet-smelling! How dear the Indian lovers, and how brave in bearhunting! With teeth of the cinnamon and grizzly we made chains for ournecks, and with breasts of waterfowl we made aprons. In streams wetracked beaver and muskrat, besides mink for our coats in the winter. "

"But, Tillie, old woman, what of the white men, --the Russians?"

"Not much white, but dark, " she returned, correcting him. "Finedressing, many knives and guns in belt, buttons bright like money, andthey sit on animals, big like caribou, what you call? Yes, horses. Thenin boat they sailed to beautiful island. Listen!"

The old creature placed her hand behind her ear as if trying to catchsome sound or name. Then, brightening up, she exclaimed: "Baranhoff itis! Big house, fine castle. Beautiful laughing ladies in lovelydressing. Gold, gold, I see everywhere on fingers, ears and necks. Moneyplenty. All make pleasure, good time, dancing, gambling; drink tea muchfrom big copper dish. Ah, great man many sleeps gone by. This way theydance, " then added the old creature, scrambling to her feet clumsily andcatching up her tattered skirt daintily with each hand after the mannerof a danseuse. Then, still with closed eyes, she glided gracefully andwith dignified movement over the floor in imitation of long deadRussian ladies of high degree. 

The Lieutenant strummed a few chords softly upon his banjo, but oldTillie was drowsily crooning her own accompaniment as she swayedbackward and forward, and seemed not to notice. 

At last, wearied by her unusual efforts, she sank upon the floor in heraccustomed attitude and breathed deeply. 

"But, Tillie, old woman, " urged the Lieutenant, who had not forgottenhis important business with the Indians, "what did the men leave in theold stone house on the mountain to tell us they built it?"

"I see iron box and many things in it; kettles, pipes, spoons and a bigknife. I see small gun that shoots, and bullets to put in it. Manythings are in box, and for it you must dig below the ground, not far, ina corner by the old chimney there; but first you roll the stones away. "

"But we cannot find the place unless you show us the way, Tillie. Willyou go with us?"

"Yes. Me quick find stone house; but Tillie is old, very old, and notmuch can hurry. She cannot climb mountains like young Indian, " and shesighed heavily as she spoke. 

"You shall take your own time, only show us to the Boundary House on theSummit, and I will pay you well, " said the Lieutenant. 

The following day they started. Everything that could be done for thecomfort of the Indian woman was done by the two white men. When she wastired she was allowed to rest; and at night a bed of boughs was made forher near the camp fire. Along the banks of the Klahenia she led them, finally leaving the river and following a dry creek bed into themountains. 

Not since she was a little child had she visited this region except inher vision, when she had plainly seen her route and destination, --theruins of the old stone house on the mountains. 

On the afternoon of the fourth day the party reached the desired spot, exactly as old Tillie had described. The Lieutenant and his man foundit. Clearing away the huge stones which had formed the walls of thehouse, they found, upon digging in the corner, an old iron chest ofancient Russian manufacture. In it were the proofs (if more were needed)that this was the identical Boundary House for which they had beenseeking. A couple of small copper kettles, blackened with age anddampness, like the rude knives, clumsy revolver, and bullets for thesame, as well as a few old pipes, spoons, and a hatchet, lay as they haddone for many years, in the bottom of this old chest. Upon the inside ofthe latter's lid was inscribed the owner's name--Petrofsky--Russianwithout a doubt; and a rude drawing which clearly traced the muchdisputed, much sought out Boundary Line between Alaska and the BritishPossessions. 

On this drawing was shown the very stone house upon the site of whichthey now stood; and Lieutenant Adams and his companion, threw up theircaps for joy. 

Pressing the old woman's skinny hand in his own, the Lieutenant filledit with gold pieces, saying as he did so:

"Here is money with which to buy blankets. Take it. You are a wonderfulwoman, and you shall never suffer. You shall have a warm house andplenty of coal for the winter, and I will see now that you reach yourcamp safely. You have served us well, and I thank you. "

So saying, the white man covered the iron chest, and even replaced thestones above as they had found them. They then returned to Klukwan andtheir own cabin. 

Later, the Lieutenant was successful in gathering information fromIndians at Bennett and Tahku, relative to boundary marks and monuments, which was also of great service to him in establishing the fact that theline as it then stood was the one of the original Russian owners, andthat no power had authority to change it. 

By arbitration between the two countries the matter was finallyadjusted, leaving the miners of Rainy Hollow, as well as those of thePorcupine District and other places, in peaceful possession of theirlands as they desired; but of those who had given assistance to theUnited States officials while inquiring into the location of Boundarymarks, none had given more satisfactory and timely aid than Tillie, theChilkat Indian, when she led the white men to the Old Stone House on theSummit. 

CHAPTER VIII

A MINER'S OWN STORY

The woman I loved above all others in this world had been my happy wifefor a number of years when we decided to come to hunt for Alaskan gold. 

We lived only for each other. Our attachment was very great, a feelingwhich at the first time of meeting sprang suddenly into existence. Mylove for my wife was my ruling passion, my ambition for Alaskan goldbeing always secondary, as were all other earthly concerns. 

Her attachment for me was of a like nature, warm and sincere. 

My greatest anxiety was her health. Never entirely robust, she hadgradually grown less so, even with all my tender care, and as her mindgrew and expanded her body became more frail. At last our physicianprescribed an entire change of life and scene. As I was not a rich man, and must wherever I went still manage to bring in by business methodsenough for our support, it was an important question with us for sometime where we should settle. 

Olga (for that was the name of my little wife) wished to go to Alaska. There she thought we could together search for the precious mineral onlyrecently discovered in various places; and though the journey was a longone she argued that the change would be beneficial to her. 

So we came to the northern gold fields. Fortune favored us for twoyears. Our claims were turning out so well that we planned to build agood house in town soon which would be a comfortable home until, afterthe further growth of our bank account, we could leave the countryforever. 

Before that time arrived, however, a thunder bolt had fallen--Olga wasdead. 

I had gone for two days to my claims on the creeks ten miles away, leaving her alone. At night she was to have the company of a womanfriend in order that she might not feel lonely, and the followingevening I was to be at home again. 

How I hated to leave her! Something like an unseen hand upon my arm heldme back; but my men were even then awaiting my orders and I was obligedto go. To remain at home now meant a loss of thousands of dollars as thelate rains had so swollen the creeks that sluicing was in full blastafter many weeks of waiting on account of scarcity of water. 

Olga was in her usual health and smiled brightly, standing in thedoorway when I pressed my lips to her for a good-bye. 

"Don't get lonesome, dear, I'll be back as soon as possible, and bring agood-size poke full of nuggets with me, too, " said I hurrying away inthe direction of the hills where my claims were situated. 

Looking back from the tundra trail which I had been putting behind me asfast as possible for some time, I saw her standing in the doorwaylooking after me, but whether she had remained as I left her, or whethershe had returned to the door after going inside, I never knew. 

The next time I saw her she was dead. 

I had walked ten miles to my claim and superintended the daily"clean-up" at the sluice boxes, securing as I had said I would a pokefull of golden nuggets worth several thousand dollars. 

It was a splendid clean-up, but for some unexplainable reason I wasrestless and uneasy. I had seen so much gold it was getting to be an oldstory; or my meals had not digested well; or perhaps I was working toohard--I tried in these ways to account for my indifference. My mindwandered from the work in hand. I looked often in the direction of homeand Olga, but the hills were between us. I slept fitfully at night, after waking with a start which disturbed me greatly. At last I lookedat my watch. It was past midnight, and I determined to go home. 

Going to the creek where the night gang was at work, shoveling into thesluice boxes, I told the foreman I was starting for home, as I believedsomething had happened. 

"You're nervous!" he said. 

"I don't care what you call it; I'm going home to see how things arethere, " and I hurried away toward town. 

"Don't worry, Mr. A. ", called out the man after me, "Your wife's allright, " then in a lower tone to himself, "That fellow'll go daffy overhis little wife, as he calls her, if he isn't careful. It's a good thingI haven't any, for I couldn't watch her like that if I did have, that'scertain. "

I hurried on over the trail, the night being light and clear, the grassdewy, and the sun about to rise; for it was midsummer in Alaska. 

Afterwards I remembered these things. 

When half way home I saw a horseman coming toward me. He was ridingrapidly, and when he drew near I recognized a neighbor. He reined in hishorse. 

"Good morning, Mr. A. , " said he. 

"What is it, Peter, tell me quick! Has anything happened at home?" Icried impatiently. 

"Mr. A. , I am sorry to tell you, but you're"--

"Don't say she is dead! Don't say that!" I begged. 

"Mount my horse, and I'll follow. Go as fast as you can for the animalis fresh, " said he; but I heard nothing, saw nothing. I was simplyclinging to the saddle, as the animal galloped back over the trail. 

In a dazed condition I reached home. Our cabin was filled withsympathetic friends, trying to assist in some way. As I came in theydispersed, leaving me alone with Olga. 

They had placed her upon a couch where she lay with a sweet smile uponher lips, but they were cold when I kissed them--her heart had ceasedto beat, and for the first time in all our lives there was no answeringpressure when I took her hands in mine. 

Oh, the agony of that moment! No tongue can tell, no pen describe, theawful loneliness of that hour. She had been part of my life--of me. Icould not live without her; I did not want to try. 

Oh, God! How could I bear it? What should I do? I had given her my love, my life, and now she was dead--everything was swept away and there wasabsolutely nothing to live for. If I could only die! Dare I take my ownlife? No, for that would then mean everlasting separation, as she wasdoubtless now in the happiest state to which mortals could be assigned. I must try to reach her no matter at what cost. For hours I knelt besideher with her hands in mine, and my cheek beside her cold one. 

I was again talking to Olga, as I fondled her face, her hair, her hands. 

"Speak to me, my darling, " I pleaded, "if only once more. I cannot livewithout you. Why did you leave me? How could you go without telling me?Surely you did not intend to do it, did you, darling?" Eagerly Iwatched her face to see her blue eyes open and her lips once more move. Could I bring her back by calling her? It might be so; and then I tried, repeating her name again and again, tenderly, lovingly, oh, so lovingly!

Hours passed thus. The smile on her lips remained. Presently I listened, my arms about her neck and my head upon her breast. 

I was quiet now. The awful storm which had well-nigh uprooted my verysoul was gradually subsiding. I must be ready to hear her if she shouldcome back with a message. 

This I believed she would do. Many times we had talked together of thesethings, and each had faithfully promised the other to return, ifpossible, with comfort and assistance from the mysterious beyond in theevent of a separation by death. 

I could see her now as she looked while speaking, and then I grew calmerimmediately. 

I would wait. 

By and by it came--only two words. 

"The letter. "

The letter! Where was it? I had not seen it--I had not thought to lookfor such a thing because her departure came so suddenly. A burningbuilding close to our cabin, with wind blowing the flames toward her, had caused the fright and heart failure which deprived me of Olga--but aletter! I would search for it. 

Among her writing materials I found it. A sealed packet, directed to mein her own dainty Swedish handwriting. 

I cannot reproduce it here. It was for my eyes only, and written a weekpreviously; but she said she was expecting soon to be called away. Shedid not wish to worry me with goodbyes, and in truth there was no needof saying them for she would be as constantly with me as ever, eventhough I could not always see her. She did not want me to forget her andhoped I could conveniently manage to keep the poor little body (in whichshe had lived for nearly thirty years) quite close to me where I couldsometimes look upon her face. 

All this and much more she had written; each letter and word of whichcomforted me as only Olga knew how to comfort, because she understood myvery soul. 

We had been made for each other. We were souls twinned in creation by ahigher power than many know; but it had been given us to understand inher lifetime, and now that she had been called away for a season I mustbear it as patiently as possible for her sake, and I would. God helpingme, I would bear it! And my unreasoning grief should not disturb herquietude. 

The day passed. 

In the evening a knock at the door brought me back to my objectivesenses. I had been oblivious to the outside world all day. 

"We thought you might like some coffee and supper, and I have brought itto you, " said a kind miner, who was also a neighbor. 

"Wife and I will come and stay all night here if you will go to ourcabin and get some rest. "

I thanked him, declining his last offer, but drank the hot coffee. Ithen asked him if he would go out and secure the use of the adjoiningvacant log cabin for me, so that I could immediately move into it. 

This he did, returning in half an hour, asking what further service hecould render. 

I told him I would move all my belongings into the log cabin, leavingOlga here. This was her house, and it was still to be her home. 

By midnight this was done. The man had gone home after making me promiseto call him when I wanted help. 

In Olga's cabin of two small rooms there remained only a stove, a couchupon which she still rested, and an easy lounging chair. 

The door at the front I soon padlocked on the outside, and barricadedwithin, leaving the back door as the only entrance. Next a man was hiredto dig a narrow trench about the whole cabin to conduct all surfacewater away from the lot. During the hours following I busied myself withthe receptacle which would contain the still beautiful, but nowdiscarded body, of my darling Olga. 

Carefully removing a part of the flooring in the center of the room, Ibegan digging underneath. The ground was frozen. A pick and shovel in myhands found their way into the frost-locked earth and gravel; but at adepth of about five feet I stopped. 

Her bed was deep enough; also long and wide enough. Its walls were ofice. 

They had dressed her in a robe of pale blue veiling, distinctly suitedto her, upon which rested the long braids of her yellow hair, while heronly ornament was her wedding ring upon her finger. 

How perfectly serene and happy she looked! I fully expected her to openher lips and speak. When this did not happen, the sense of my awful losssurged back into my brain, seeming almost to take my reason; but anotherquiet hour by the side of my darling partially restored me. 

It was midnight. A perfect storm of grief had just spent itself and leftme weak and weary. I threw myself, with a heavy sigh, into the depth ofthe lounging chair. 

Presently I slept. What was that? A bit of beautiful yellow lightfloated gracefully above Olga's head. With a fast-beating heart Iwatched it from my resting place. It grew in size, and increased inheight, gradually assuming the form of my darling, a completecounterpart of the one lying before me in the soft blue gown. 

The face, the golden braids, the fingers, and the wedding ring were allthere, completed by a smile so heavenly that I gazed as one transfixed. 

Could this, then, be Olga, and not a stray beam of light which hadstruggled through the curtains?

"Olga!" I cried, stretching out my arms toward her in an ecstasy ofgladness. 

"Dear Victor! Have no fear. I will come again. " The voice seemed likeOlga's and as full of love as ever. 

With that the beautiful yellow light began slowly to fade, the form ofmy beloved melted into a haze which drifted gradually upward and out ofsight. Then I awoke. 

Weeks passed, during which the fall rains set in, and I was working ashard as ever; not so much in a feverish desire for the gold I was takingout of the ground, but because the work helped me to forget my sorrow. Idid not cease to think hourly of Olga, but I wished to put behind me theshock of her sudden leave-taking, and remember the fact that she wasstill in memory mine, that she was watching over me and would visit mein my dreams. 

My all-absorbing love for her I could not--did not wish to put away fromme. I had loved her so devotedly that I envied the passing breeze whichplayed among the loose locks of the hair on her forehead. I had enviedthe dust of the road as it clung to her feet because it could remain sonear to her; and I longed to become the atmosphere she breathed, that Imight live a part of her very physical being This sort of love neverdies, because it is part of one's constitution and sub-consciousness, and cannot be eradicated. 

I grew more and more silent. I was physically well and strong, butlooked forward from morning until night to going home to my cabin andOlga. Each evening when my lonely supper had been eaten I turned the keyof the adjoining cabin door, and carefully locked it behind me. From theouter place I entered the room which was now a sacred spot. A solitarycandle gave all the light required. Lifting the section of flooring uponwhich had been placed two strong hinges, a few turns of the mechanicalcontrivance brought up from below the narrow bed in which the earthlyform of Olga rested, securely covered by clear and heavy glass. 

In my low, lounging chair I sat for hours beside her, told her of mylove which would remain forever the same; I reminded her of her pledgesof constancy, reviving instances of our past lives, even bringing to mymind bright bits of pleasantry which had been habitual to her whilehere. 

At times I placed my cheek upon the icy glass as near hers as possible, whispering words of love--always my great love, which like a deep andflowing well refused to be stopped. 

At last one evening I leaned back in my easy chair much wearied, andbecause of the stillness, soon slept. 

Ah! She had come again! In the brightest and purest yellow light shestood there bending toward me with a radiant and happy smile upon herface. 

"Victor, " she said, softly, "don't worry so much, dear, you will makeyourself ill. Believe me you will soon cease to do this for you willknow the better way and find real happiness. I know that this trial hasbeen very hard indeed for you to bear, but you must not grieve longer, "then I seemed to feel the light pressure of her hand upon my head. 

Oh, the joy of it all once more!

"Tell me, Olga, do you still love me as well as before you went away?"

"Victor, dear Victor, believe me, I love you far better than everbefore, because I understand. Try to be happy, dear. " Then, with a lightcaress, she vanished. 

For a moment I felt dazed. I looked about me. The lighted candle wassputtering itself out in its socket, fitfully darting a thin and feebleflame upward into the darkness. My mouth was parched and dry--I musthave water. 

Carefully I lowered the blue-robed form to its resting place, adjustingthe cover, locked the door behind me, and crept back into my own cabin. 

Time passed. With a young lover's regularity at the side of hissweetheart I visited my dear one in the little cabin beside my own. Casting about in my mind how to make the place appropriate for thepurpose for which it was now used, and at the same time be somewhat morecomfortable, I had covered the walls of Olga's cabin both inside and outwith a heavy black paper, well calculated to keep out the wind. Upon theceiling of the front room hung silvered stars which shone brightly, andwith a fitfulness not all unnatural in the flickering candlelight. Inone corner of the outer room there still remained the heap of earth andgravel taken from the spot where Olga's body now rested. The rainyseason was far advanced and before many days the snow and ice would behere for long and weary months. My mining would then be over untilanother summer. I had been successful beyond my dreaming and couldafford to rest, but I dreaded the tediousness and loneliness of winter. 

One evening, while dozing in the depths of the easy chair, I saw a formbending above the sand and gravel in the next room. I fancied I heard apleased and gentle laugh like Olga's of old, and I asked timidly, "Whatis it, friend?"

"Here is gold. Will you pan out this sand and gravel? You will berepaid. " And again I heard the gentle laugh. 

"What, " said I in astonishment, "will I there find gold?"

A gesture of assent was given. 

"Then this cabin and others must stand upon rich, gold-bearing ground?"

A second gesture of assent. 

With that I wakened. I immediately procured a gold pan from my cabin, and used it for a few hours to good advantage. 

The ground was truly rich; and Olga's form was lying in a bed literallylined with gold. There was wheat gold as well as dust and small nuggets. In my agony of mind at her sudden death it had never occurred to mewhile digging that the gravel might contain anything of value; but itwas plain to me now. Only for my dream I would surely have shovelled thesand thoughtlessly outside where someone might have made the discoveryto my own loss. 

Not long afterward a strange incident occurred. It happened in thefollowing way. It was raining and past midnight, being one of the lastrainstorms before the regular freeze-up it was proving to us there wasno shortage of water in the clouds which seemed wide open, and it waspouring in torrents. For four hours I had been using the pick and shovelin the frozen gravel under the adjoining cabin, and had finally gone tosleep, lulled by the patter of the regularly falling rain upon the roof. 

Suddenly I was aroused with a fear of--I knew not what. I instantlysprang from my bed, striking a match, and getting into my clothing asrapidly as possible, I made my way through the storm into the nextcabin. It was then but a moment's work to lift Olga's casket to thefloor from its icy bed beneath. As I did so a small stream of waterburst its way through below the flooring and began pouring over theside of the excavation, at the bottom of which only a moment before hadrested Olga's casket. 

Like a flash I understood the situation. The small trench around thecabin had filled with water and become obstructed, while the heavy rainhad saturated the surface of the ground swelling the little streambeyond the capacity of its bank. I immediately ran out of doors to makea search for the obstruction, which, once removed, allowed the water topass away as before. A small clump of grass and sticks had foundlodgment, having been swept there by the unusual amount of falling rain, and in less time than it takes to write it, the mortal remains of mydarling would have been flooded, had it not been for the warning and myprompt response. To clean out the small amount of water which hadentered while I hastily worked at the trench was short work and sooncompleted. 

With these and other incidents was my life henceforth made up. Formonths I spent several hours each day with pick or shovel in my hands. Ibought the adjoining cabins with the lots upon which they stood, therebycontinuing my work of thoroughly prospecting the ground, even afterfinishing that upon which Olga's house stood. 

Following my practice of working during the midnight hour when mostpeople were asleep, the indistinct noise of my pick in the frozen gravelbelow the floors aroused no one; though I once overheard two belatedpedestrians outside my door wondering from what quarter the noise of thepicking and shoveling came. No light was allowed to betray mywhereabouts, as a single tallow candle placed low in my prospect holebeneath the floor told no tales; and once hearing the sound of voices inthe street my labors instantly ceased. 

After a few weeks it was whispered about the camp that strange noisesproceeded from the mysterious black cabin at midnight, and later thatthe same uncanny sounds seemed further away. Only a few persons had everheard them, and they assured their friends that the vicinity was a goodone to keep away from at night time; the latter advice pleasing me quiteas well as it did them. 

For this reason I was never disturbed; and if more and more left tomyself by my neighbors I was not displeased, as it suited my frame ofmind best to be alone with my own thoughts--and Olga. 

Many months now passed. My life was a very quiet one, the most enjoyablehours to me being the ones spent in dreaming of Olga. Gradually the factdawned upon me that my life was now a most selfish one. I was feedingupon memories of dear, by-gone days, but allowing the present to slipunimproved away. If I could arouse myself to some good purpose in life, and take a hand at scattering bright bits of happiness to console somelonely hearts who had less of comfort than myself, might it not bebetter? With the wealth which I had rapidly accumulated in Alaska, Icould assist in much good work for the poor and needy if I were soinclined. 

Perhaps I would find more happiness and contentment in living henceforthunselfishly, with more thought for others and less for myself. 

Many times during the long winter evenings I had felt twinges ofconscience concerning my selfish mode of life, well knowing that Olgawould enjoy spending our wealth for the good and happiness of othersbefore accepting luxuries for herself. Now I had come to feel in thesame way, and no longer craved riches or that which they would bring. Myown wants were simple, and would continue to be so. I would make othershappier. The helpless, homeless and suffering, I would relieve. Mywealth would now permit it. 

In this manner, and by my dreaming, my sorrow had been somewhatmitigated, and that grief, so terrible in the beginning, was to someextent assuaged. Not that I loved Olga less, or had forgotten, but allunknowingly I had been striving to be more worthy of her memory. 

Daily I meditated in the sweet silence, and hourly received strength andconsolation therefrom. Many pledges I made which I would fulfil lateron--the future then held no terrors for me--I would work, work and wait. More, I would learn, I would grow, I would climb. I resolved to reachthose heights to which many were traveling, and to which Olga hadalready surely attained. In due time, my Olga, we shall no doubt meetagain and live, love and work together as of old, only that ourhappiness will be farther perfected because we have farther advanced. 

 * * * * *

It was midnight. I seemed to visit the land of Holy Dreams. In thedistance I heard a chorus of voices, exquisitely beautiful and wellmodulated, coming nearer as I continued to listen. The singers weremany, but so perfect was the rhythm and harmony that I dared not breathefor fear of losing some part of the beautiful song. Not only so, but theaccompanying orchestra faithfully upheld and completed the symphonywhich rose and fell with crescendos and diminuendoes more glorious asthe chorus pealed louder and nearer. I was listening in sheer delightand with each nerve tingling, when a dear familiar voice began inobligato, so clearly and sweetly that the tears sprang into my eyes--

 "Have love; not love alone for one, But man as man thy brother call, And scatter like the circling sun Thy charities on all. "

CHAPTER IX

EYLLEN'S WATER WITCH

Two women sat weaving baskets. They were not Aleut Indians, and barelyescaped being Russians; but were of mixed blood so common on theAleutian Islands. 

The younger one broke the silence. 

"I'm tired of baskets! I want to do something else, " she said, with ayawn. 

"Run out upon the hills awhile, but first finish the row you are doing, then put all away in a safe place. No Russian leaves her work scatteredto get lost or soiled, " said the older woman. 

"Am I a Russian lady?" queried the girl, apparently about the age ofeighteen. 

"You may be if your father comes to take you to Russia with him. But bythis time he is likely dead;--there is no telling. It is three yearssince we saw him, and he promised to come again in two. " And the womansighed. 

"Oh, he may come at any time, and I am going to the top of the hill tolook for him now, " said the girl with youth's hopefulness, as shehastened to obey her aunt. 

"Don't set your mind on it, for sailor men are very uncertain; only theyare pretty sure to roll around the whole world, making excuses thatships take them whether they will or not. A poor excuse for not comingis better than none. " Then as the door closed behind the girl she added, "I wish he would send money to buy her clothes; it would be as little ashe could do, for she is not my child, but my sister's. I, too, wish hewould come, for a cold winter we have had taking much coal and manyfurs, and my money is nearly gone. To be sure when the steamers comewith their hundreds of people bound for the gold fields we shall sellsome of our baskets, but it will be weeks before they arrive, " and shepulled industriously at the long strands of dried grass she was weavinginto her basket. 

While her aunt meditated on these and various other matters the girl, Eyllen, glad to get away from the cabin and basket-making, crossed thefoot bridge over the small stream which ran behind the house and beganto ascend the high bluff which she claimed as her watch tower. If shecould only discern her father's ship in the distance, how surprised heraunt would be!

On the islands the winter was over. The month of May had come with itsmany attendant delights. Snow had gone from the ground in the littlesettlements and lay only upon the high hills and great mountain topssurrounding. Down gulches and canyons flowed swift, icy streams of whathad until lately been great snow masses, but which on melting had leftbare the sides of the tundra-covered hills where the brightest of wildflowers were beginning to spring into beauty. 

The girl was not blind to their loveliness. Upon leaving the cabin shehad determined to bring back all she could carry of the blossoms, butnot until she had well scanned the horizon for ships. Her father mighteven now be approaching the islands, and perhaps he could see herthrough his glass. With this thought in mind she pulled her handkerchieffrom her pocket and waved it enthusiastically, although as yet no shiphad she seen. Seeing some little children far below in the villageplaying near the priest's school she laughed aloud. 

[Illustration: _She scanned the horizon_]

"They will surely say I am bewitched if they see me, and what a jokethat would be! I am certain to be badly quizzed by the youngsters when Iget home, for there is no such luck as to escape their sharp eyes whilestanding upon this hill-top. It will be a wonder if some of them do notfollow me. If they do, they will not find me, " and she laughed again asshe hastened on over the brow of the bluff. 

Eyllen was lithe of limb and supple. To mountain climbing she had beenaccustomed since a baby, and was well and hardy. She now stood for amoment to take a fresh survey of the bay. A slight breeze was blowing, and had tinted her smooth round cheeks with crimson. Her eyes sparkled, and her whole face betokened earnest and animated thought. Down her backhung two thick braids of dark hair, but the ends had become free, and, left unconfined, floated picturesquely about her shoulders. 

An Aleut Indian she surely was not. She had not their short, dumpystature, but was slender and graceful, and would not have seemed out ofplace in civilization. 

Having satisfied herself that no vessel could put into the harbor forsome hours, if at all that day, she strolled farther on. Down one hilland up another, picking a flower here and one there, humming as she wentsome old Russian song, her time passed in evident enjoyment though withmore or less abstraction. 

"I will visit that spot again, and find out what there is so strange anduncanny about it, " she murmured. "I am not afraid, for nothing can harmme. It is said that a woman has much curiosity, and I am a woman, sothat will allow me to inquire into the mystery, for mystery it surelyis. Why should I be so strangely affected when visiting that spot? Whythese sudden head pains, and dizziness as though I were about to fall tothe ground? Can it be that some witch or evil spirit dwells there and isdispleased with my coming? Does it belong to them any more than to me?Have I not the right to come and sit beside the little stream as oftenas I choose? I will inquire into the matter this very day, and solve thepuzzle, for I will never rest until I do. "

So saying, she hurried her steps and was finally standing at the head ofa small stream, where, from between rocks, the water came bubbling tothe surface and trickled away to lower ground. She was thirsty from herlong walk and climbing in the sunshine, and stooped to fill a drinkingcup she had brought with her for the purpose. 

Suddenly she was seized with dizziness, then an electric thrill ortrembling passed through her whole body, and a wave of faintness sweptover her. She felt ill. 

Her face grew very pale. 

Was it the work of one of the witches she had heard so many times about?

At that she ran away a little distance and sat down upon a grassy knoll. She had not yet quenched her thirst, and longed for the water. There wasno other spring near at hand, and she was determined to have a cupfulfrom that one. The witch, she thought, (if a witch's work it was) hadnot done worse with her than cause the sudden illness and disagreeablesensations, and she would repeat her visit to the spring and secure acupful of the water; which, though possibly bewitched, still looked aspure and sparkling as that of her own bright mountain stream near home. 

When she had fully recovered, she again advanced toward the spring. Notuntil she stood above its waters and peered into their shallow depthsdid the old and oddly unpleasant experience repeat itself. Exactly asbefore it happened now; but the girl, always a determined and resolutecreature, secured the water as she had intended, and retreated to herhillock where she again seated herself before tasting the liquid. 

A second time the trembling left her, not so quickly as before, perhaps, yet still in a very few moments she was again herself. 

Gingerly she sipped the water. It tasted clean, sweet, and deliciouslycool. Again she cautiously sipped. Still no evil effects from thedraught. Thus encouraged, she drained the cup, laughing aloud as she didso. 

"Ha, ha! old water witch of the mountains! I am neither afraid of younor your twin brother, the wind wizard. I am light, love and happiness, and you cannot harm me. "

Saying this she began braiding her long hair with which the breezes hadplayed so mischievously during her rambles, and growing more serious shereflected on the phenomenon. 

"It is in the rocks or ground underneath the spring, and not in thewater. Surely I have proved that. Before today have I visited thisplace, and it is always the same. I will tell no one, else the priestmay say I am bewitched, and make me do severe penance. Only once morewill I approach the spring today and then I must surely go home or Iwill lose my supper. "

She was the lodestone, being irresistably drawn to the magnet, which wasapparently the rocks at the fountain. 

As before she approached, but with less trepidation. She began to loseall fear. Some inner monitor urged fearlessness, and she felt full ofcourage. 

As she stooped low above the spring, surrounded on all sides as it wasby ledges of rocks and boulders, she determined to hold herself, notwithstanding the decidedly disagreeable sensations it gave her, firmly in position long enough to get a view of the bottom of thespring. It was not a deep pool, forming a mirror for all above it, butrather a bed of loose rocks, evidently from crumbled ledges. Theselatter, crossed the place from east to west, but to the careless glanceof Eyllen, seemed simply a confused jumble of rocks and nothing more. 

Several of these pieces were light and clear. They looked attractive incontrast to darker ones, and being washed clean by the water, and madebrighter by the sunshine, tempted the young girl to reach for them, which she did. 

"See! What was that?"

The rock was filled with shining yellow specks which shone dazzlingly inthe sunbeams. 

The girl gazed in astonishment upon them. 

"Holy Mother Mary!" she ejaculated. "How beautiful! I believe its gold!"

With that she made a dash for other bits of the same rock, and thoughher head ached fearfully, and it seemed to her that she stood upon anelectric battery, which was anything but pleasant, she secured as muchas she could carry, and fled as before from the spot. 

[Illustration: "Holy Mother Mary!" she ejaculated. "How beautiful! Ibelieve its gold!"]

Upon examination it proved to be the same as the first piece discovered. 

Crossing herself devoutly she murmured a prayer. That over she kissedthe fragments of quartz in her hand, talking lovingly to them in themeantime. 

"Why did you hide away from me so long? Why cause me to think ofwitches, but force me to come to you once and again, and giving me theillness? That's a funny way, you little rascals! And I will now repayyou by hiding you yet longer from sight of any who might come here. Iwill cover you carefully until I come again, or until my father comesfrom across the ocean. Then I will give you to him, and he shall findthe rest of your brothers and sisters. " She pulled energetically at themoss and grass at her side in order to make a hiding spot for her newlydiscovered friends, as she chose to consider them. 

Before putting the last piece beside the others she again kissed ittenderly, patted it, and giving a little gurgling laugh, said:

"You pretty darlings! Sleep quietly until I come again, and let nobodyfind you. See? I will tuck you up, head and heels, with this cover, "and she replaced the mosses and grass she had just pulled. 

"By and by you can make me very happy if you will, when I can be a richlady. I have heard old miners talk lovingly of you many times, but theyshall not find you. You are mine! Remember, you are mine!"

With that she gave a last look at the spot where her secret was hidden, and bounded away down the hillside. 

Presently in the valley below she struck an old trail, --one made longago by the cattle belonging to the settlement, and the occasional tread, perhaps, of a few reindeer and goats owned by the mission priest. 

Hurrying along toward home she had almost forgotten the flowers she hadintended to gather but now had little time to leave the trail and pluckthem. For the sake of appearance, however, she pulled those happening togrow alongside her path, not wishing to reach home empty handed. 

As it was, her aunt's sharp eyes took notice. 

"To be gone so long upon the hills, and yet bring so few blossoms? Youmust be slow in bending your back or heedless of the beauty around you. Where are the buttercups and beautiful blue iris from the field belowthe hill? Was the upper bridge gone that you could not cross the streamat that place either going or coming?" asked the woman, a littlesarcastically. 

"No, no, Aunt, but it is early for iris, and the buttercups are not halfso lovely as these bluets and violets. See the darling little blue eyespeeping at us! Tomorrow I will look for the iris. But let me eat mysupper now, for I am very hungry, " laughed Eyllen, after she had placedher spring beauties in water. 

"When we played by the schoolyard, " remarked her youngster cousin dryly, from between huge mouthfuls of fish and potato, "she was standing on thehigh hilltop and looking out to sea. I am certain I saw her wavesomething to the sailors, only there were no sailors there, " and theurchin glanced roguishly across the table at Eyllen. 

"Ha, you rogue! It was likely the corner of my apron you saw, if indeedyour sight was clear enough to see me at all so far away. I wonderFather Peter allows you to let go your fancy in such manner. "

"Father Peter wishes us to learn by seeing, he tells us. Besides Iwondered how you thought to pluck flowers on that barren hilltop wherethe snow is hardly yet melted. Warm and sunny hillsides are the spotswhere spring flowers grow. "

"There, there, " said the boy's mother, "you talk far too much. Eat yoursupper and let your elders alone. "

The boy shrugged his shoulders and gulped down his tea, having finishedhis tea before the others owing to his haste in beginning. 

The older woman then gravely inquired if any ships had that day beenseen. 

None could be reported; and the youngster was soon in a state of greatsleepiness in bed, while the two women washed the supper dishes and madethe small cabin once more tidy. 

That night Eyllen slept little. On her cot in the corner she ponderedlong and earnestly. Just what was the nature of the strange phenomenonwith which she was so lately identified she had no idea. She only knewthat the mystical rocks lying embedded in that spring were full of lifewhich thrilled her tremendously as she made a near approach to them. As a magnet they had attracted her until finally she perceived what toher constituted discovery. 

[Illustration: _Father Peter_]

How very strange it was! Could it be possible that here were ledgescontaining much gold which no one had ever discovered, and which mightall be her own if she could succeed in keeping her secret until herfather should arrive? Of his coming she had not the least doubt, as hadher aunt; she felt positive if he were dead she would in some way knowit. It was springtime and the season for vessels to put into the harborfor coal and fresh water on their way to the Arctic Ocean; and theywould bring him sometime she felt confident. Then he would be delightedto hear of his daughter's discovery, and together they would grow to bevery rich indeed. 

Eyllen was a sensible girl and a good reasoner, but her knowledge ofminerals was exceedingly limited. Each piece of white rock was, to her, quartz; and the place where gold was found in any form was a mine, orwould be one later when developed. She really wished to find out ifthere was more of the same gold-bearing ore at the spring, for unlessthere were large masses of it she knew her discovery was worthless. 

Then she thought of her often recurring and unpleasant sensations at thespring, and it occurred to her that here was a way by which to gainfurther knowledge. If she could bear the headaches and dizziness mightshe not, by this means, trace the hidden ledges? It seemed reasonableeven to her inexperienced mind. But she would need to use considerablecaution. None must see the gold-bearing rock which was already sofascinating to her. In some manner, she reasoned, she must find a way ofgaining information about minerals other than by asking questions. Curiosity upon the subject would quickly give her friends the cue to hernew interest. She decided to visit the library of Father Peter in hisabsence, and from his housekeeper borrow some book giving suchinformation. By talking to the good woman about her home work andchildren she could manage to distract her attention so she would notnotice which book it was she was taking. 

In this way Eyllen planned for hours before sleeping. When she finallyslept it was to dream of a beautiful water witch who lived in the bottomof the mountain spring between the rocks, but when, on insisting upon anearer view she found it to be only herself with her dark hair floatingaround her, she laughed aloud, and so awakened. This decided her, however, upon one thing. 

She would search for a tiny fragment of the beautiful rock containing asmuch of the precious mineral as possible, and wear it suspended abouther neck underneath her dress; as this, according to tradition, wouldsurely preserve the wearer from witchcraft. Not that she believedherself possessed of any spirit other than her own; but the strangenessof the sudden indisposition attacking her at the spring, added to herdream, caused her to greatly wonder. 

A week passed. Eyllen developed a most remarkable passion for wildflowers, along with a sudden and vigorous distaste for basket-making. She declared the latter occupation gave her headache and loss ofappetite, and only the fresh mountain air made her feel like herselfagain. In her aunt's cabin the window ledges were filled with blossoms, and an overflow of the same was furnished the priest's housekeeper. 

Then, too, a daily watch was kept for ships from the westward by thegirl whose strong limbs served her well in mountain climbing. As the sungrew warmer and clearer above the islands, she could see old "Round Top"begin to breathe. At times this mountain's snowy head became quitehidden in the obscurity of misty vapor or smoke clouds, while the doublepeak of Isanotski, rising as grandly as ever to its height above theothers, seemed, by its longer-retained snow cap, to assure the world ofits superiority. 

Frequently, but cautiously, she rambled among the hills. Patiently sheinvestigated the rocks upon the hillside, quickly learning where shemight venture to be free from the sudden indisposition, and where it wassure to attack her; for there appeared no cessation of the phenomenon. With the hammer which she secretly fetched from home she hacked theout-cropping lode in different directions. Everywhere in the white rocksthere were the golden specks scintillating in the sunshine. It was abona fide gold-bearing ledge. From the borrowed book she gained muchknowledge that was helpful, but with this more and more she felt herpowerlessness to proceed or to turn her newly found interest to goodaccount. 

More than ever she longed to see her father. Between her walks to thespring on the hillside she climbed the bluff and continued to look forships from the westward. To be sure other vessels were beginning toarrive, and to welcome them the whole settlement habitually turned outupon the wharf. There were empty water tanks re-filled, repairs made, and larders replenished, while ship's officers drank, smoked, and toldsea yarns in the saloons along the water front. 

Thus passed weeks of waiting to Eyllen and her aunt. It seemed that themonotony would never end; but it did end suddenly at last. 

One day as the two women sat busily at work upon their baskets theyoungster of the family rushed in quite breathless. 

"A ship's in sight which flies the Russian flag! She's nearing theharbor now! Some men with glasses on the bluff have sighted her, andsignalled to those below! She may be coming from Vladivostock and bringnews of my uncle!" and the lad dashed out of the cabin and down againupon the wharf. 

"Or, better yet, the ship may bring him!" suggested Eyllen, in aflutter, hastily rising and putting away her work. "I must see if myfather has really come. "

"I trust it is so; then will my prayers not be in vain. If he bringsmoney again will they be answered, " said the girl's relative. 

"If he brings no gold his daughter will be glad to see him, " said Eyllenin a slightly offended tone. 

"I meant no harm, Eyllen. You surely understand me. Has not your fatherbeen always welcome here?"

"Yes, yes, Aunt, " and tears forced their way out of her eyes, as thegirl threw her shawl about her. "But come, we will soon find out aboutthis vessel, and who is on board. "

The ship was now moving into the placid bay and toward the shore. From aflag staff the Russian emblem already fluttered a welcome to thevisiting craft. To be sure, the shore flag was accompanied by one madeup of stars and stripes, and this last floated proudly at top of themast above the other, but the two flags seemed not to be on unfriendlyterms. 

At last the vessel swung alongside the dock. Eagerly did Eyllen and heraunt, standing among the group of natives, scan the faces of those onthe vessel. None were familiar, and they were about to turn disappointedaway when they heard a shout. 

Some one on deck motioned to the two women to come to the ship's side, and they hurriedly obeyed, scarcely knowing what they did. 

"Were you looking for someone?" kindly inquired an officer in Russian. 

"My father, " replied the girl, disappointedly. "But he cannot be onboard your ship or he would have been out to greet us. "

"Your father's name?" asked the officer. 

"Fedor Michaelovitz, " responded Eyllen. 

"He is on board, but he is ill. We will fetch him ashore presently, " buteven as he spoke two men passed through the door to the gangplank. Theycarried a litter between them upon which lay stretched a man. 

Eyllen rushed toward the litter. It was really her father, but sochanged that she would not have recognized him. 

According to the physician's orders Fedor Michaelovitz was placed in thesmall hospital established upon the islands for sailors, and there hewas well tended. In a few days he was far enough recovered to relate tohis daughter his story. 

After leaving her three years before and meeting many vicissitudes anddisappointments, he had at last gained a fairly good position, whensmallpox overtook him, and during a long illness he had lost it. Recovering and working his way up again elsewhere, he had lived frugallyin order to save a competence upon which to live with his daughter intheir own country to which he wished to take her. 

When his wishes seemed about to be realized the bank in which his moneyhad been placed, failed, and he lost all his hard earned savings. Weakened by discouragement he again fell ill, and then he decided tosail for the Aleutians and see his daughter at all hazards. Penniless, ill, and discouraged, he was a man who, in middle life, had stillnothing to show for years of work and hardships. 

One redeeming feature of all this dark outlook, there was with him afriend who was apparently moved by the misfortunes of Michaelovitz, andthat was a young Russian sailor with whom he had become acquainted someyears before, and who followed him wherever he went, even at the risk ofcausing a corresponding failure in his own affairs by so doing. 

The young man's name was Shismakoff, and he had proven himself not onlykindly and generous, but self-sacrificing and noble. Along with thesegood and somewhat unusual qualities, he possessed more than average goodlooks and abundant patience. He it was who now in the hospitalfaithfully attended Michaelovitz, as was his habit. 

This young man had been told but little of the family history of hisfriend, only knowing that his wife was dead and that a daughter livedupon the Aleutians with her aunt. 

This much he knew upon landing. At sight of Eyllen's bright eyes androsy cheeks the young man's heart fluttered. She was good to look upon. Without commenting upon it even to himself he immediately proceeded totake, as compensation for attentions to her sick father, such keenenjoyment in her presence as only those long isolated can know in thesociety of ladies. Not that he forgot his manliness. For that the youngman was too sensible; but he simply drank in every word uttered by theyoung girl, as a thirsty traveler would drink fresh water in a parchedand burning desert. 

The girl, herself, was unconstrained. Probably in this lay her greatestattraction. She had other hopes and interests, and they were centered inher father's recovery, and in her rocks a few miles away on thehillside. 

Eyllen did not immediately relate her adventures to her father. He mustrecover his health before she disclosed her secret. To this end she nowbent all her energies. A basket was traded to a neighbor for fowls inorder that he might have nourishing broths, and her fishing tackle wasbrought into play to furnish the freshest of fish from the bay. 

With attendants like Eyllen and Shismakoff, who could long remain upon asick bed? Especially on these beautiful green islands in spring-time?Greatest of all grasses were those growing before the doors, andbrightest of all blossoms were those plucked by the hands of Eyllen. Sweet was the fragrance of iris and violets, and lupins grew straightstalked and fearless. Lilies, too, appeared later, and all crowded thewindows of the invalid whose heart was gladdened, softened, andrefreshed by their sweet and silent influence. 

At her basket work Eyllen sat daily for hours with her father, until hewas strong enough to walk to her relative's cabin. Of course it was onlyto be expected that Shismakoff would accompany them. Upon one side ofthe convalescent he furnished support, while Eyllen assisted on theother. 

The girl's aunt had prepared a dinner especially for the visitors, atwhich the incorrigible youngster had been instructed to appear only whenhis elders had finished. It was Saturday, and the priest's school wasnot in session that day. Freedom from this restraint had had its effectupon the urchin, and his mother found it in her heart to frequently wishthat it had been a school day instead. With care she instructed him inwhat manner to behave himself, and what things he must under noconsideration do, one of which was not to talk too much. 

"In that case, mother, what I do say must count, " said the boy, not dullas to wit. 

"Count fifty before you speak at all. Then you must consider what yousay, and you will not be foolish. I daresay you will still show yourselffeather-headed enough, " and his mother sighed, apparently striving to beresigned to the suspense of her position. 

The visitors were telling of their recent voyage to the islands. Theyoungster could keep quiet no longer. 

"Eyllen has been long expecting you, Mr. Shismakoff. She often went tothe hilltop to wave to you, and I suppose she also called you. Did youhear her across the water, and come in answer?"

The young man smiled. 

"Be silent! you naughty boy!" commanded his mother, with as much forceas she could master. 

Eyllen's color grew like the wild roses in the window. 

"Did you hear her calling?" persisted the mischief loving youngster. 

"I do not think so. I take it the saints directed me here, for none butthey could bring me this present happiness, " said the visitor, gallantlyinclining his head to the one with the roses in her cheeks. 

At this point Eyllen's father began to speak of other things, and theirrepressible youngster subsided; while Eyllen and her aunt lookedmodestly down upon the plates before them. 

Two weeks passed. The ship which brought the sick man and his friend haddeparted, leaving them behind. None were sad at its going. Eyllen'sfather was rapidly improving, and gradually grew to feel that life was, after all, worth having. To the younger man, each hour in the presenceof Eyllen seemed brighter even than the one before it, and a longing formany of the same in the future took possession of him. There was no realenjoyment out of her sight. His former existence looked to him a blank. He could not go back to it. He could not leave this green island, theclear mountain air made salt by great encircling waters and scented byspring blossoms. There were no fish like those in these waters, and nowinds so free as the ones playing over the crests of Progromni andShishaldin. Finally, nowhere in the whole world was an equal to Eyllenamong women. 

This last consideration settled everything. He was determined to win herin marriage if possible, but her father no longer needed attention, andhe bethought himself to set to work at something by which to earn money. More fishermen were in demand at this time in the settlement to supplythe constantly arriving ships with fresh fish, and he devoted himselftemporarily to this labor. 

In her turn Eyllen was interested in Shismakoff, but she longed todisclose her secret to her father, who, she felt confident, could notrefrain from sharing it with his friend. To this she could not yetconsent. She had suddenly grown wise with a wisdom not before exhibited. If the young man loved her as she felt that he did, might not theknowledge of her secret urge him to increase his attention? In allprobability it would, and she heartily repudiated this idea. 

Of all things in the world, to be loved for her gold-bearing ledgeswould be the worst of misfortunes, she reflected, and this feeling, growing upon her, prevented her day after day from confiding in herfather. When he had recovered his strength sufficiently to walk amongthe hills (she told herself) then she would inform him of her goodfortune; and even then he must be pledged to keep his own counsel. 

At last the time came; the girl invited her father to walk with her uponthe hills to gather wild flowers. 

"We will go first into the valley by way of the trail, Father, and thencome home another way. There are many beautiful blossoms and mosses, andwe will take our tin cup and lunch along with us, " said Eyllen brightlyas she made ready for the tramp. 

"Anywhere you say, Eyllen, only let it not be too far for my feet totravel, " replied the man indulgently, as he watched her, well pleasedwith the grace of her movements. 

"When we are tired we will sit and rest in the sunshine. See! Here isbuttermilk the priest's housekeeper has sent you. I will carry abottleful to refresh you when thirsty. "

They then trudged off among the hills. A few short walks Michaelovitzhad already taken with his friend and good supporter at his arm, but whowas today away in his boat on the water, and he now leaned upon thestock he carried in his right hand. 

For a time Eyllen walked by her father's side, carrying her basket ofluncheon, but as the trail narrowed she led the way, restraining herhaste as best she could (for she was impatient to be at her ledges) lestshe should tire her father before their walk was ended. 

Several times they halted to rest. As yet her father saw no reason forhurrying. To loiter, to rest upon the hillside and chat in the sunshinewas what he liked; and here was his daughter fleet-footed and strong, almost hurriedly leading him far into the valley between the hills asthough bent on some mission. 

Where could she be going?

"Are you sure you know where you go, daughter? And that you will not getus lost in the mountains? I have never before been so far from thesettlement in this direction, and we cannot hear the church bell ring, eh, Eyllen?"

"No, Father, we care nothing for hearing the church bells now, " laughedthe girl, "and as for losing ourselves, it is impossible, as I have manytimes rambled over and through these hills. I know each rock as large asmy head, and I will show you some presently much larger and morebeautiful, as you are sure to agree with me. "

"Rocks are not beautiful, child. I thought it was blossoms you wanted toshow me. "

"So it is, but on our return. We have reached the place I wanted to showyou, Father. Sit upon this mound while I fetch a cup of water from thespring, " and the girl ran a few steps farther. 

Returning with the water she said briskly, "now we will eat our lunchwhile we rest and talk, for I have a little story to tell you in themeantime, " and the hands at the basket trembled a trifle. 

A cloth was spread upon the ground, and the basket's contents turned outupon it. There was the bottle of buttermilk which Eyllen declared shewould not carry home again, as it might be changed into butter by thattime, and she urged her father to drink it and eat heartily. 

"But the story, Eyllen, the story! What is it you will tell me? I doubtnot 'tis some island-lover business, or a new gown you will politely askfor when your father's appetite is quieted, as is the way of many keenwomen, eh, little girl?" said Michaelovitz giving his daughter's pinkright ear a gentle tweak. 

"There is neither new gown nor lover in it, and you will never guess, soI am going directly to tell you, " smiled Eyllen. "Do you see this pieceof pretty rock, Father?"

"There you go again with calling rocks pretty. But stay! What is this, child? Where did you get it? Is there more? Do you know what it is thatsparkles?" questioned the man rapidly, bending forward toward hisdaughter. 

"Yes, Father, it is gold, and there is much more of it where that comesfrom. I have found the ledges. "

"You, child? You? How did it happen? Tell me. "

Then the girl proceeded to relate her experience with which we arealready familiar; how she first came to drink at the spring, and herpeculiar sensations which were at first affrighting; how she persistedin returning to the place until by accident she discovered the quartzpieces in the water; her foolish fears of a water witch, including herdream, and her decision to wear as a talisman a bit of the goldbesprinkled rock; of her hesitating in telling her father her secret forfear he would divulge it to his companion, young Shismakoff, at the sametime entreating her listener to keep sacred her confidence for fear thatothers would molest the treasure-laden ledges; and lastly, inquiring ifhe would, as her partner, accept one half of the property as a present. 

"May the blessed saints preserve us! my child, what is this you aresaying? Where are the ledges? Where are they?" and the man sprang to hisfeet in excited interest. At that, the buttermilk flask rolled away downthe hillside where it landed against the stones below, breaking intohundreds of flying fragments. The lunch basket, too, toppled over, withthe contents, luckily being only sandwiches of bread and butter; andEyllen, as excited now as her father, ran lightly down the path to thespring from which she had filled her drinking cup a few minutesearlier. 

"Here are the ledges, Father, here they are! Come and see for yourself!"pointing to the rocks she had already so thoroughly investigated. 

The man quickly followed. He was weak and weary no longer. His walkingstick lay neglected on the ground beside the luncheon, and he hadforgotten that weariness or hunger were possible. Eagerly he examinedthe formation, the quartz, the wall rocks and surroundings, ejaculatingand questioning Eyllen in the meantime. 

She replied that she was positive no one knew of her interest in thehillside, as she had carefully kept concealed her destination whenwalking so frequently here. All prospecting had been done by herself, and now she would gladly share the work, worry, and profits with him, she laughingly avowed. 

Only one condition would she rigidly impose, and that was thatShismakoff should be kept in ignorance of their good fortune as long aswas possible. 

At this her father arose from his stooping position among the rocks andlooked keenly at Eyllen. 

"You mistake if you think that Shismakoff is unable to keep a secret, "said he earnestly. Then seeing Eyllen's blushing and downcastcountenance, the facts began to take shape in his brain. 

"Oh, ho! I see it! Is that your meaning? My wit is not the keenest, elseI would sooner have caught it. Well, well, child, perhaps you are right, although I shall sorely want his counsel and advice in this matter. Ipromise to withhold the knowledge of these ledges from him until I haveyour permission to tell it; so rest easy, and fret not. He is a goodfellow, and I fancy will presently remove the necessity for furthersecrecy by making known his intentions to your father. With youracceptance of his hand there need be only confidence between us. "

As he finished speaking, a wave of sentiment passed over him, and hiseyes filled with tears. Approaching his daughter, he took her hand inhis own, drew her closer to him and kissed her. "You are a good child, Eyllen, and very like your mother. It is a pity she cannot be with us!You are worthy of a good husband, and he will be one. You will havegreat happiness. "

Resuming his examination of the rocks he dropped his seriousness andremarked in a lighter tone: "That he is a poor man is not important nowthat you will have riches yourself. Should both possess wealth it wouldbe too much of good luck, and one fortune is quite sufficient. "

Eyllen was now herself once more. Tilting her head backwards shemeasured the sun with her eyes. 

"It is time we returned now, Father, " she said, "for we will haveflowers to gather by handfuls. There is no such thing for us as reachinghome empty handed. It would never do. You see I have been much at thiswork, and know how to manage. "

"Right you are, child, we will do so. "

"Here is your walking stick, Father, " holding it out to him. 

"Bah! I do not need it! I am now strong. "

"But, Father, please use the stick, because you must not be grown strongtoo rapidly. It may cause comment, and you must not excite suspicion ofour good fortune, and why we came here today. Leave the stick where youwill tomorrow, but take it with you today, " she urged laughingly, andwith eyes twinkling. 

"To be sure, --to be sure. I forgot. I will not expose your secret, child; have no fear. "

With that they turned their faces toward home. Flowers nodded gaily onall sides, and soon replaced the luncheon in their basket. 

Mosses, green and velvety, sank beneath the pressure of each foot-fall, and a brood of eaglets tested their pinions near the crag above thetrail. 

Right glad was Fedor Michaelovitz before reaching home that he hadlistened to Eyllen and carried his walking stick. Without its support hewould have found much more tedious the long walk from the mountains. 

A hot supper, a pipe full of tobacco and a restful evening, however, restored him, especially as Shismakoff made his appearance all spick andspan after his day's work on the water. The recital of his adventureswith a school of whale in mid-ocean, and the capture of one of them, occupied a good share of the evening. Eyllen's father asked manyquestions relative to the subject. To these were supplemented thequeries of the youngster, whose large dark eyes fairly stood out uponhis cheeks with wonder at the tale. To say that the boy's admiration forShismakoff was thereafter greatly augmented would be speaking much toomildly. From that day, the young man was looked upon by him as a herowho needed only a following of soldiers to make him a real general. 

In this way the evening passed with slight reference to the tramp ofEyllen and her father in the mountains, much to the girl's satisfaction. 

Her mind was now relieved. Work upon her baskets was again taken up, andperseveringly done. Michaelovitz, with walking stick in hand, trampedamong the hills alone often, considering it the affair of no one that apick and shovel did honest duty in his hands during the day, and laysecreted beneath the rocks near the little spring when he returned tohis cabin at night-fall. If his capacious coat pockets contained breadslices in the morning, it was empty by evening, and his hands full ofblossoms then quickly pacified the children he met in the village. 

At times Eyllen accompanied her father. Then, at his direction, by theuse of her mysterious instinct for minerals, she could trace stillfurther the treasure-filled ledges from the spring or ore shute whereher initial discovery had been made. By this means, several hundred feetof gold-bearing ledges were located and staked by the girl and herfather, whose active labor in the open air, along with a brightenedfuture and more encouraging life prospects, soon caused the man to growstrong and well again. Shismakoff and Eyllen became more fond of eachother day by day, until at last it was beyond his patience to endureuncertainty longer, and he told her of his great love, begging for aresponse in the form of a promise of marriage. To this the girl repliedas he desired, taking no note of his reference to a lack of exchequer, and that he must go away from the islands in order to make money morerapidly. 

A few days afterwards, Michaelovitz invited the young man to joinhimself and daughter in a ramble to the hills. Eyllen thought it was noharm to give the whales and fishes one day more of freedom, she said, and his boat needed caulking. She insisted that the boat must be madeentirely seaworthy, now that it must carry her future husband; and shecould not endure the thought of his life being in danger. 

Upon reaching the vicinity of the spring in the ledges, Michaelovitzproposed that they rest for a little and listen to a story which Eyllenhad to relate to them, but (with a woman's usual perverseness) when theywere comfortably seated upon the grass she refused to begin it. Wouldshe finish if her father began it? they asked. 

No, she would not even promise to finish. If her father wished the storyto be told, then he must tell it, she declared between laughing andblushing. 

The old man needed no urging. He proceeded to relate the story of thediscovery of her gold ledges. Of her patiently locating the ledges inthe face of the fact that her strange electric instinct for mineralsgave her real suffering; and of her taking him into her secret; notomitting to tell of the water witch, the talisman, and the dream, aswell as her wish that Shismakoff be kept in ignorance to the lastmoment. It was now that Michaelovitz forced his daughter to regret thatshe had not herself told the tale. 

He did not spare her blushes. On the contrary he bore down upon thefinale of the narrative with all the vigor of a surgeon performing aserious duty, adding that she had had her wishes in the mattergratified, and she ought to be satisfied that their listener was agenuine lover, and not one seeking a wife for her possessions. 

At this juncture Eyllen's poor cheeks could blush no longer. Her eyeswere wet, but her lips were smiling; and Michaelovitz betook himself tothe path which led to the spring, thus giving the lovers an opportunityto be alone. 

Shismakoff was the first to speak. 

"So this is the little one who wears the talisman, " he laughed. "But ithas no power to protect you from witchcraft, as I can honestly testify. See! Here in me is the proof of my story. Have you not bewitched _me_?"his strong arms moving tenderly around the girl's little jacket, whilehe covered her lips with kisses. 

"Give the talisman to me, darling, that I may wear it until your loveshall be as strong for me as is my own for Eyllen!"

Then the girl, thinking him in earnest, handed it to her lover who hungit about his neck beneath his waistcoat next to his heart. So the lovershad forgotten the ledges and the man among them, and thought only oftheir love and each other; the rocks, gold-laden though they were, aswell as everything else, being then of secondary importance. 

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