The Frontiersman: A Tale of the Yukon

Creek, swish! Creek, swish! hour after hour sounded forth the yielding snowshoes as Keith Steadman, hardy northman and trailsman, strode rapidly forward. For days he had listene...

All through the dark hours of the night Keith kept watch, with the anxious dog growling intermittently at his feet. He knew there were wolves still in the vicinity, for at times...

The sun of the short winter day was touching the mountain peaks, and slowly stealing down their rugged sides, as Keith emerged from the cabin bearing the cold body of the unknow...

For long years the Indian village of Klassan had lain snugly ensconsed between the sheltering arms of two towering mountains. Once, beyond the memory of the oldest native, the l...

Among the Indians in Perdue's store none watched the proceedings more intently than Yukon Jennie, the orphan, whose home was in every camp, but with no certain abiding place. Wr...

As Keith stood gazing in surprise upon the retreating figure, there suddenly came to him the realization of the mischief this one child might do. He felt there was a strained fe...

The storm which twisted the forest into wild contortions, and swept the snow around the plodding outcast, beat itself in vain against Peter Martin's snug log cabin. It did its b...

When Keith opened his eyes, it was to see Old Pete, with an anxious expression upon his face, sitting by his side. He looked at him somewhat puzzled, but soon the recollection o...

As Keith bent over the prostrate man, he noticed how delicate were his hands, not cramped and hardened like the ordinary prospector's. He looked upon his face, white and worn, t...

It was early dawn as the two plodded their way through the deep snow. The furious storm of the night had ceased, and a hush reigned over the land, as if in honour of the birth o...

Pleasant though it was at Siwash Creek, Keith was anxious to return to Klassan as soon as possible. He was uneasy about the state of his dusky flock, and especially Yukon Jennie...

What more common and beautiful word than this, a mere symbol, the outward expression of the child heart within each of us. At any time it is full of deep meaning, but how greatl...

Several days after the conversation in the school room, Pritchen was striding along the trail, which wound through the Indian village. Under his right arm he carried his long, n...

The debate was well advanced when Pritchen entered the building. The rough benches were all filled, so he stood with his back to the door among several who were in a similar sit...

The morning after the debate Constance was moving briskly about the little cabin she had assisted in erecting with her own hands. She was relating to her father, who was lying o...

Of all criminals in the unwritten code of mining camps in the early days in the Yukon, the sneak-thief was the most despised. A man might live as he pleased, as a squaw-man, or...

A stiff breeze was swinging through the night as the Vigilance Committee left the saloon and started for the nearest cabin. The stars were hidden, and the weather had moderated,...

On the afternoon preceding the miners' meeting, Yukon Jennie sat silently in the corner of the old chief's lodge. Her busy little fingers were arranging a number of small pictur...

Another night had shut down over the great Yukon valley, a night of wind and storm. It had been snowing since morning on this, the most memorable day in the history of Klassan.

The morning of the trial Yukon Jennie stood in the chief's lodge, girded for a long journey. She was clad in a soft buckskin suit, the skirt of which reached but a short distanc...

"All the better fer bein' hard," he laughed, when Constance apologized for their poor accommodation. "I won't sleep too sound, an' I'll be able to keep an ear peeled fer them va...

When Old Pete left Klassan, and went back to Siwash Creek with Keith's dogs, he expected to return in a short time with a supply of moose-meat. But the game was scarce, and he w...

After the Indians' cry had rung through Klassan there was no more sleep for the miners. Excitement reigned in each cabin, where men waited and wondered what the night would brin...

The miners' cabins at Klassan were erected on a level strip of land along the Kaslo River. Upon the hill above nestled the Indian camps, secure from the wild north wind in winte...

The afternoon sun was flooding the whole landscape with the golden glory of a burnished shield as Keith Steadman, the outcast, sat on a mountain ridge looking down upon the vill...

While the old chief, and the Indians about him, were quietly listening to the missionary's message, and drinking in every word, there was one person present who was consumed wit...

When Keith stood before Shrahegan's lodge, the second day after the recovery of the sick youth, the spirit of conquest for Christ's sake possessed his entire being. Once it was...

The night the jam gave way Constance was seated by the table engaged upon a piece of needlework. The candle by her side threw its feeble, flickering beams upon her dark hair and...

When morning dawned it was a dreary sight which met the eyes of the tired watchers gathered about the smouldering embers of the fire upon the high bank. The waters had subsided,...

The cry rang through Klassan late one afternoon, and produced a magical effect. Men dropped their frying-pans, axes, or whatever they had in their hands, and hurried to the rive...