Part 4

"Eight of us made the trip from Juneau to Dyea, 100 miles, on the little steam launch Alert. The steamer Mexico reached Dyea the same morning with 423 men. As she drew so much water she had to stay about three miles off shore and land her passengers and freight as best she might in more or less inaccessible places on the rocky shores.

"Then up came the twenty-two-foot tide and many poor fellows saw their entire outfits swept into the sea. The tide runs there like the Fundy race. At Dyea there were but two houses, a store and, of course, a saloon. So when we landed on the beach and got out on the snow and ice we had to "rustle" for ourselves. We have kept on "rustling" for ourselves from that on.

"We camped the first night at Dyea. It is a most enjoyable thing, this making camp in the snow. First you must shovel down from three to six feet to find a solid crust. Then you must go out in the snow up to your neck to find branches with which to make a bed, and then comes the hunt for a dead tree for firewood. Dinner is cooked on a small sheetiron stove.

"Always keep an eye on the 'grub,' especially the bacon, for the dogs are like so many ravenous wolves, and it is not considered just the proper thing to be left without anything to eat in this frostbitten land. At night it is necessary to tie up the sacks of bacon in the trees or build trestles for them. But to the trip.

"The second day we went up Dyea canon. It is only three miles long, but seems fully thirty. This is true of all distances in this country. About one hundred pounds is about all a man wants to pull in this canon, as the way is steep and the ice slippery. So camps must be made short distances apart, as you have to go over the trail several times in bringing up your outfit. Remember, an ordinary outfit weighs from 500 to 800 pounds, and some of them much more.

"But the summit of Chilcoot Pass--that's the place that puts the yellow fear into many a man's heart. Some took one look at it, sold their outfits for what they would bring and turned back. This pass is over the ridge which skirts the coast. It is only about 1,200 feet from base to top, but it is almost straight up and down--a sheer steep of snow and ice. There is a blizzard blowing there most of the time, and when it is at its height, no man may cross. For days at a time the summit is impassable. An enterprising man named Burns has rigged a windlass and cable there, and with this he hoists up some freight at a cent a pound. The rest is carried over on the backs of Indians. We were detained ten days waiting our turn to have our outfits carried over and for favoring weather.

"After going about three miles up a dark canon a whirling snow storm struck us. But having risen at such an unconscionable hour we would not turn back. Our pride was near the end of us. I hope I may never experience such another day. The air was so filled with snow that at times it was impossible to see ten feet. It was all we could do to keep our feet against the wind which howled down the mountain. My beard became a mass of ice.

"The trail was soon obliterated and we were lost. But we stumbled on and by a rare chance we came upon the handle of a shovel which marked our cache. There was nothing to do but fight our way back to camp. The storm did not abate in the slightest. In fact, it raged for four long days. It was nearly dark when with knocking knees we got back to camp, more dead than alive.

"The next day ten men made up a party to go on the same trip back for their outfits. The day after that they were found huddled in a hole dug in a drift eating raw bacon. After another day of rest we put masts on our sleds, rigged sails and came across Lake Linderman and over Linderman Portage. We are now camped on the head of Lake Bennet."

Another letter written by Mr. Mizner from Forty Mile City, as late as June 12th, is quite as interesting. He says:

"The trip was an interesting one, but very dangerous. Many men lost their boats and everything they had, and there are rumors of men having been drowned. Shortly after leaving Lake Laborge we came upon a party who had just rescued two young fellows from rocks in the middle of the rapids. They could not save their outfit or their demolished boat, and all they had went down the river with the rushing flood. One of the young men had everything but his shirt stripped from him by the swirl. We took him in charge and landed him at Klondyke.

"The big canyon between Mud Lake and Lake Laborge is a grand and impressive place. The river above is a quarter of a mile wide, but in the canyon it narrows to fifty feet. The walls rise on either side, sheer and smooth, full seventy-five feet. Down rushes the water with a frightful roar, rolling the waves at least ten feet high. Like everybody else, we went down ahead to take a look before shooting these rapids. From the cliff view the task seems impossible, but there is no other way, and shoot you must. So, with Wilson at the oars to hold her straight, I took the steering paddle, and we made for the mouth of the gorge.

"It was all over in about thirty seconds. We were through in safety, but it was the most hair-raising thirty seconds I ever experienced. There was quite enough thrill in it for a lifetime. Over the terrifying roar of the water we could faintly hear the cheer put up by the undecided hundred or more men who lined the cliffs above us. Up came the ice-cold water against us in tubfuls. We were wet through. So was everything else in the boat, and the boat itself half full of water. But we were soon bailed and dried--and safe.

"Then we went on to the White House Rapids, and here we let our boat through with long ropes. Two days later we shot the Five Finger Rapids and the Rink Rapids without any trouble. The last four days of the trip we fixed up our stove in the boat, and only went ashore twice for wood. The mosquitoes on the shore are numbered by the million and are fierce as bull terriers, but in the middle of the river they troubled us but little.

"The sun sinks out of sight now about 10.30 p. m., and comes up again about 3 a. m. About midnight, however, it is almost as light as noonday. There is no night. At Dawson there is a little sawmill and rough houses going up in all directions, but for the most part it is a city of tents. On the shore of the river are hundreds of boats, and others are getting in every day.

"The Klondyke has not been one particle overrated. I have seen gold measured by the bucketful. Just think of a man taking $800 out of one pan of dirt. Mrs. Wilson panned out $154 out of one pan in one of the mines I am to take charge of. This, without doubt, is the richest gold strike the world has ever known.

"Of course all the claims in the Klondyke district are taken up now, and there are hundreds of men who own claims valued from $50,000 to $1,000,000. But with all these men in the country many miles of new ground will be prospected, and from the lay of the country I think other gold fields are certain to be located."

CANADIAN GOVERNMENT'S ATTITUDE.

AN INTERNATIONAL QUESTION AS TO MINER'S RIGHTS.

The fact that the Klondyke placer diggings, as thus far prospected and developed, are well east of the 141st meridian, which forms the boundary line between Alaska and the Dominion of Canada has attracted no little attention among our northern neighbors, and many contradictory reports as to what attitude the Ottawa Government will assume as to the rights of miners who are not British subjects, have come to us. That the Canadian Government has the right to prohibit all but British subjects from working these diggings cannot be questioned. But, as the New York Sun puts it, it would be preposterous to suppose that the Dominion would really attempt to exercise its right of exclusion. Gold fields all over the world are open to miners without regard to nationality. Canadians to-day are free to work in the Yukon diggings on our side of the boundary. The Dominion will do well enough in collecting its revenues and customs duties on the new industry, and on the collateral industries certain to spring up among the population that will flock there. Already it has a customs officer for the district.

American miners have rushed in large numbers from Forty-mile Creek and other points to the new Klondyke, Bonanza Creek, Eldorado Creek, or other regions, and they have staked out their claims. The Dominion would have its hands full in dispossessing these men, and there would be plenty of reason for retaliation on our part. We do, it is true, exclude Chinese immigration, but it would be dangerous for the Dominion to put Mongolians and Americans on the same footing in an exclusion policy.

American miners who have written to the Department of State asking protection for their Klondyke claims have no reason to worry; and, in fact, it maybe surmised that their anxieties, rather than any indications given by the Ottawa Government, are the source of the absurd rumor of exclusion.

DAWSON NOT A TOUGH TOWN.

THE CIVILIZATION OF A MINING CAMP.

Ladue, who is a veteran prospector, and has seen all the tough mining camps on the Pacific coast, gives this interesting description of the new city of Dawson, which promises to have 30,000 inhabitants before Spring:

"It may be said with absolute truth that Dawson City is one of the most moral towns of its kind in the world. There is little or no quarreling and no brawls of any kind, though there is considerable drinking and gambling. Every man carries a pistol if he wishes to, yet it is a rare occurrence when one is displayed. The principal sport with mining men is found around the gambling table. There they gather after nightfall, and play until the late hours in the morning. They have some big games, too. It sometimes costs as much as $50 to draw a card. A game with $2,000 as stakes is an ordinary event. But with all of that there has not been decided trouble. If a man is fussy and quarrelsome he is quietly told to get out of the game, and that is the end of it.

"Many people have an idea that Dawson City is completely isolated and can communicate with the outside world only once in every twelve months. That is a big mistake, however. Circle City, only a few miles away, has a mail once each month, and there we have our mail addressed. It is true the cost is pretty high, $1 a letter and two for a paper; yet by that expenditure of money we are able to keep in direct communication with our friends on the outside.

"In the way of public institutions our camp is at present without any, but by next season we will have a church, a music hall, a schoolhouse and a hospital. The last institution will be under direct control of the Sisters of Mercy, who have already been stationed for a long time at Circle City and Forty-Mile Camp.

"Nearly a score of children were in Dawson City when I left, so I donated a lot and $100 for a school. No one can buy anything on credit in Dawson. It is spot cash for every one, and payment is always gold dust. Very few have any regular money."

All experts estimate that the minimum supply of provisions which a man should take to Klondyke is 1,000 pounds, though several say they wouldn't venture in without at least one ton, as the season over the Juneau route closes up by September 15. The rush promises to be unprecedented, and a large number of prospectors, after being landed at Juneau, will find it impossible to get their supplies transported. Like all other great mining rushes, this promises to be full of disappointments.

A new route to the Klondyke will be opened next spring. It is overland from Juneau to Fort Selkirk, on the Yukon, and is entirely by land. Captain Goodall, of the Pacific Coast Steamship Company, inspected it this Summer, and reported it practicable. It is about 700 miles long, and it crosses the divide over Chilkat Pass, which is lower and more easily crossed than the Chilkoot Pass. No lakes or rivers are on the route, but the trail runs over a high level prairie. Old Pioneer Dalton, after whom the trail is named, is now driving a band of sheep on the trail to Dawson City, where he expects to arrive in August, with fresh meat for the miners. This Dalton trail is well adapted for driving stock, but for men the tramp is too long.

"Dawson is not like most of the mining camps. It is not a 'tough' town. Murders are almost unknown.

"The miners are a quiet and peaceable kind of men, who have gone there to work, and are willing that everybody else shall have an equal chance with themselves. A great deal of gambling is done in the town, but serious quarrels are an exception. As a gambling town I think it is equal to any that I have ever seen; and this, by the way, is always the test of a mining camp's prosperity. Stud poker is the usual game. They play $100 and oftentimes $200 or $500 on the third card."

L. B. Roads said: "I am located on claim 21, above the discovery on Bonanza Creek. I did exceedingly well up there. I was among the fortunate ones, as I cleared about $40,000, but brought only $5,000 with me. I was the first man to get to bed rock gravel and to discover that it was lined with gold dust and nuggets. The rock was seamed and cut in V-shaped streaks, caused, it is supposed by glacial action. In those seams I found a clay that was exceedingly rich. In fact, there was a stratum of pay gravel four feet thick upon the rock, which was lined with gold, particularly in these channels or streaks. The rock was about sixteen feet from the surface. The discovery made the camp. It was made on October 23, 1896, and as soon as the news spread everybody rushed to the diggings from Circle City, Forty-Mile, and from every other camp in the district.

"Some of the saloons here take in $300 per day in dust and nuggets. Beer is fifty cents per drink. I have quit drinking. Logs are worth $30 per 1,000, and lumber $150 per 1,000. Most people live in tents, but cabins are being put up rapidly.

"We have the most orderly mining community in the world. There is no thief, no claim jumping, no cheating or swindling in the many gambling houses. The greenhorn gets an honest game and every man's hand is above-board. If any funny work is attempted we run the offender out."

FEARS OF STARVATION.

If twenty or thirty thousand go to the mining camp, as now seems probable, starvation will result, as it will be absolutely impossible to feed more than ten thousand people with the supplies that are now on the way. In another season boats can be built and arrangements made for laying down an unlimited supply of food, but now the Alaska Commercial Company has only three vessels, while the other two lines only run to Juneau. Yukon river steamers are sent up in small sections and put together on the river. They draw only three or four feet of water, but with even this light draught they often become stranded on the sand bars in the upper waters of the Yukon. By the Juneau waters it is impossible to carry in any large quantity of provisions, as every pound of supplies must be carried on Indian's backs over Chilkoot Pass and by frequent portages that separate the lakes and streams on this overland route. After Sept. 15 this Juneau route is impassible to all except Indians, because of fierce storms which only Indians and experienced travellers can face.

The Alaska Commercial Company is very fearful that starvation will occur in the new camp this winter. President Louis Sloss said to-day that his company would do the best it could to feed those who rushed into the Klondyke, but he said that probably it would be impossible to get in more than 3,200 tons of food before ice closed the Yukon River. The company has 500 tons on the way to St. Michael's, but the river usually freezes over about the middle of September. They have only three boats, as one of the best boats was wrecked last spring. The supply will not suffice for more than the number of people already at the mining camp; so, if 20,000 or 30,000 should rush in, carrying only a small supply of food, the stores will be compelled to limit sales to each purchaser, and those not able to find work will starve.

Joe Ladue, who owns the town site of Dawson City, emphasized Mr. Sloss's warning. He said no one had any idea of the amount of food required by hearty men doing hard manual work in extreme cold weather. He said the suffering was keen last winter because the men could not secure a variety of food, which their systems craved. The transportation companies sent large amounts of whiskey, which found no great sale. Then they rushed in stoves, picks, shovels and other hardware, but the last thing they seemed to think of delivering was food, which was needed more than anything else. Especially the men needed such things as evaporated potatoes, which relieve the solid diet of bacon and beans; but it will be hopeless to try to land any of these luxuries, or even dried fruits, which are indispensable.

A returned New Yorker said:

"'The only thing I fear is a famine the coming winter. The united efforts of the Alaska Commercial Company and the North American Transportation and Trading Company cannot transport over 4,500 tons of freight up the river this season, and not until next February can stuff be freighted over from Dyea, Juneau and other points down along the southern coast. There was great suffering last winter, and, though no one starved, food rates and rates for everything in the supply line were beyond belief. Flour was $120 a hundred weight at one time and beef from $1 to $2 a pound. Moose hams sold for about $30, or $2 per pound. Ordinary shovels for digging brought $17 and $18 apiece, and other stuff of that kind could not be obtained.

"'Wages, however, were proportional; $2 per hour was common wages, and even now in these long days a man can command $1.50 per hour up here, or from $15 to $20 per day. The river steamers cannot keep crews this summer, for all run away to the mines as soon as they get in that region. Indians are all the help that can be kept, and even they are doing something in the line of locating claims.

"'The man who goes in this winter over the Chilkat and Chilkoot Passes, or the man who goes in this summer by this steamboat route, should take in two years' grub. I understand that steamboat companies will not carry grub or merchandise for any man, and that they are making a flat passenger rate of $150 for any port from Seattle to Dawson. This means that they will get several thousand people in there this season, and if they do not get enough grub in, grub will be high. Not less than 1,000 newcomers came over this spring and how many will come by boat we can only conjecture.'"

COST OF LIVING IN DAWSON.

THE ONLY CHEAP THING IS ICE AND FRESH AIR.

Laborers, it is asserted, are paid as high as $15 a day, but the advice is given that no man can afford to go to the new camp without from $500 to $1,000 with which to support himself and insure the possibility of returning in case of adversity.

Living, of course, comes high. The region produces little or no fruit or vegetables. The meat of the caribou and the moose is sometimes scarce, and there are seasons when no salmon can be obtained.

Here is a list of prices that prevailed in Dawson City when the miners started away:

Flour, per 100 lbs $12.00 Moose ham, per lb 1.00 Caribou meat, per lb 65 Beans, per lb 10 Rice, per lb 25 Sugar, per lb 25 Bacon, per lb 40 Butter, per roll 1.50 Eggs, per doz 1.50 Better eggs, per doz 2.00 Salmon, each $1.00 to 1.50 Potatoes, per lb 25 Turnips, per lb 15 Tea, per lb 1.00 Coffee, per lb 50 Dried fruits, per lb 35 Canned fruits 50 Lemons, each 20 Oranges, each 50 Tobacco, per lb 1.50 Liquors, per drink 50 Shovels 2.50 Picks 5.00 Coal oil, per gal 1.00 Overalls 1.50 Underwear, per suit $5.00 to 7.50 Shoes 5.00 Rubber boots $10 to 15.00

Based on supply and demand the above quoted prices may vary several hundred per cent. on some articles at any time.

THE CLIMATE AND THE MOSQUITOES.

SHORT SUMMER--HEAT AND COLD CONTRASTS.

There is a short, hot Summer of less than four months, with practically no Spring or Autumn. The ice begins to break up in the rivers about May 25, and navigation commences on the Yukon about the first week in June. It begins to get very cool by the latter part of September, and is almost Winter weather by the 1st of October. The winter is very cold and dry, with not more than three feet of snow. There is only about three inches of rainfall during the winter and not more than a foot or ten inches the whole year around.

It is a country in which it is very hard to find food, as there is practically no game. Before the whites went into the region there were not more than 300 natives. They had hard work to support themselves on account of the scarcity of game.

The thermometer sometimes goes down to 68 degrees below zero in January and February. The cold, however, is not so intense as may be imagined, and 68 degrees there could not be compared with the same here. The dress is mostly of furs in the Winter, that used by the natives, and unless there is a sharp wind blowing one may keep fairly comfortable.

After this there is scarcely a let up before the middle of the following March. Just before reaching Lake Linderman the famous Chilcoot Pass is encountered, and woe to the traveller who is caught in one of the snow storms, which spring up with the suddenness of an April shower and rage for days. They are frozen simoons. Nature has provided at the pass a protection against these terrific outbreaks in the shape of an immense overhanging rock. At the top of the pass it was the custom in former years for the Indians to corral the wild sheep and goats, which were to be found in large numbers in all the surrounding mountains. The species now is practically extinct.

This route, by the way of Juneau, is a fine trip of 1,000 miles or so. For an individual it is more costly, but for a party it is cheaper.

At the head of Lake Linderman is a saw mill, where prospectors are permitted to prepare the lumber for the boats necessary to complete the journey to the camp.

This work generally consumes five or six days, but if the prospector is in a hurry he can purchase a boat, the average price being $80. Then he floats on and on for hundreds of miles and finally reaches the gold and the miners and the Arctic circle.

CAPITAL REQUIRED BY MINERS.

SOME THINGS INDISPENSABLE IN AN OUTFIT.

Mr. William Van Stooten, the mining engineer and metallurgist, gives his views in the New York Herald as to the necessary outfit required by miners contemplating a trip to the Klondyke diggings. He says:

"I should place the minimum amount at $600. It would not be safe to start out with less. But you had better make it a thousand if possible, for with the present rush it is likely that prices will be trebled or even quadrupled. Even the Indians will charge more for their assistance. Still, if a man is stranded on the way he will probably find it easy to make a living almost anywhere in the gold bearing portion of the Yukon basin. He can earn $10 or $15 a day digging the ground for men with good claims. And with the rise in prices these wages may also go up. Bear in mind, however, that the price of living must increase in proportion."

"What would you consider the proper outfit for a miner in starting out?"