Read Ebook: A Woman who went to Alaska by Sullivan May Kellogg

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Ebook has 1230 lines and 93733 words, and 25 pages

women who were laughing at them.

We had now a dizzy descent to make to Lake Bennett. Conductor and brakeman were on the alert. With their hands upon the brakes these men stood with nerves and muscles tense. All talking ceased. Some of us thought of home and loved ones, but none flinched. Slowly at first, then faster and faster the train rolled over the rails until lakes, hills and mountains fairly flew past us as we descended. At last the train's speed was slackened, and we moved more leisurely along the foot of the mountains. We were in the beautiful green "Meadows" where pretty and fragrant wild flowers nodded in clusters among the tall grass.

At Bennett our trunks were again opened, and we left the train. We were to take a small steamer down the lakes and river for Dawson. We were no longer crowded, as passengers scattered to different boats, some going east to Atlin. With little trouble I secured a lodging for one night with the stewardess of the small steamer which would carry us as far as Miles Canyon or the Camp, Canyon City. From there we were obliged to walk five miles over the trail. It was midsummer, and the woods through which we passed were green. Wild flowers, grasses and moss carpeted our path which lay along the eastern bank of the great gorge called Miles Canyon, only at times winding away too far for the roar of its rushing waters to reach our ears. No sound of civilization came to us, and no life was to be seen unless a crow chanced to fly overhead in search of some morsel of food. Large forest trees there were none. Tall, straight saplings of poplar, spruce and pine pointed their slender fingers heavenward, and seemed proudly to say:

"See what fortitude we have to plant ourselves in this lonely Northland with our roots and sap ice-bound most of the year. Do you not admire us?" And we did admire wonderingly. Then, again, nearing the banks of Miles Canyon we forged our way on up hill and down, across wet spots, over boulders and logs, listening to the roar of the mighty torrent dashing between towering, many-colored walls of rock, where the volume of water one hundred feet in width with a current of fifteen miles an hour, and a distance of five-eighths of a mile rushes insistently onward, as it has, no doubt, done for ages past. Then at last widening, this torrent is no longer confined by precipitous cliffs but between sparsely wooded banks, and now passes under the name of "White Horse Rapids," from so strangely resembling white horses as the waters are dashed over and about the huge boulders in mid-stream. Here many of the earlier argonauts found watery graves as they journeyed in small boats or rafts down the streams to the Klondyke in their mad haste to reach the newly discovered gold fields.

After leaving White Horse Rapids we traveled for days down the river. My little stateroom next the galley or kitchen of the steamer was frequently like an oven, so great was the heat from the big cooking range. The room contained nothing but two berths, made up with blankets and upon wire springs, and the door did not boast of a lock of any description. Upon application to the purser for a chair I received a camp stool. Luckily I had brushes, combs, soap and towels in my bag, for none of these things were furnished with the stateroom. In the stern of the boat there was a small room where tin wash basins and roller towels awaited the pleasure of the women passengers, the water for their ablutions being kept in a barrel, upon which hung an old dipper. To clean one's teeth over the deck rail might seem to some an unusual undertaking, but I soon learned to do this with complacency, it being something of gain not to lose sight of passing scenery while performing the operation.

At Lake La Barge we enjoyed a magnificent panorama. Bathed in the rosy glow of a departing sunset, this beautiful body of water sparkled like diamonds on all sides of us. Around us on every hand lay the green and quiet hills. Near the waters' edge they appeared a deep green, but grew lighter in the distance. Long bars of crimson, grey and gold streaked the western horizon, while higher up tints of purple and pink blended harmoniously with the soft blue sky. As the sun slowly settled the colors deepened. Darker and darker they grew. The warm soft glow had departed, and all was purple and black, including the waters beneath us; and as we passed through the northern end or outlet of the lake into Thirty Mile River we seemed to be entering a gate, so narrow did the entrance to the river appear between the hills.

At night our steamer was frequently tied up to a wood pile along the banks of the river. No signs of civilization met our eyes, except, perhaps, a rude log hut or cabin among the trees, where at night, his solitary candle twinkling in his window and his dogs baying at the moon, some lonely settler had established himself.

The Semenow Hills country is a lonely one. Range upon range of rolling, partly wooded, hills meet the eye of the traveler until it grows weary and seeks relief in sleep.

Five Finger Rapids was the next point of interest on our route, and I am here reminded of a short story which is not altogether one of fiction, and which is entitled: Midnight on a Yukon Steamer.

MIDNIGHT ON A YUKON STEAMER.

The bright and yellow full moon drifted slowly upward. The sun had just set at nine in the evening, casting a warm and beautiful glow over all the lonely landscape, for it was the most dreary spot in all the dreary wilderness through which the mighty Yukon passes.

The steamer had tied up for wood, and now the brawny stevedores with blackened hands and arms were pitching it to the deck.

To the passengers, of whom there were a goodly number, time hung heavily, and the younger ones had proposed a dance. Musical instruments were not numerous, but such as there were, were brought out, and two non-professionals with an accordion and a banjo, were doing their very best.

A small number of sober ones were to be seen on deck pacing restlessly back and forth, for the ruthless mosquito was distinctly on evidence, and threatened to outgeneral the quiet ones, if not the orchestra and the hilarious dancers.

On the upper deck, a lady, clad in warm cloak and thick veil, walked tirelessly to and fro. A big stump-tailed dog of the Malemute tribe at times followed at her heels, but when she had patted his head and spoken kindly to him he appeared satisfied, and lay down again with his head between his paws. Then sounds from the dancers below, the shrill laughter of the women mingled with the strum of the banjo and the wheezy accordion seemed to disturb the dog's slumber, and he would again pace up and down at the lady's heels.

At times there would come a lull in the tumult, and the click of the glasses or crash of a fallen pitcher would make a variety of entertainment for the lady and her dog on the upper deck; but the short and dusky midnight was well passed before the dancing ceased and partial quiet and order were restored.

Two figures remained near the stern of the boat. One, a young woman with a profusion of long auburn hair, the other a man with flushed face and thick breath.

"I cannot tell now which one it will be," said the girl coquettishly, "but if you wait you will see."

"No more waitin' in it," he growled. "I have waited long enough, and too long, and you must choose between us now. You know we will soon be at 'Five Fingers,' and you must be good or they may get you," with a wicked leer and clutch at her arm calculated to startle her as she carelessly sat on the deck rail.

"I'm not afraid of 'Five Fingers' or any other fingers, and I'm not afraid of your two hands either," making her muscles very tense, and sitting rigidly upright, "and you can't scare me a bit; I'll do as I like, so there!"

The swift flowing current pushed the waters up among the weeds and bushes along the river's edge and the loose rocks were washed quite smooth. Now and then might be heard the bark of a wood-chopper's dog stationed outside his master's cabin, and the steady thud of the steamer never stopped. At two o'clock it was growing light again, and still the young man pleaded with the girl on the deck. She was stubborn and silent.

Swiftly now the boat neared the "Five Fingers." Only a few miles remained before the huge boulders forming the narrow and tortuous channels called the "Five Fingers" would be reached, and the face of the pilot was stern. It was a most dangerous piece of water and many boats had already been wrecked at this point.

Suddenly above the noise of the waters and the steamer's regular breathing there arose on the quiet air a shrill shriek at the stern of the boat.

The lady on the upper deck had retired. The captain was sleeping off his too frequent potations, and only the pilot on the lookout knew that the scream came from a woman; but it was not repeated.

The pilot's assistant was off watch, and his own duty lay at the wheel; so it happened that a guilty man who had been standing by the deck rail crept silently, unnoticed, and now thoroughly sobered, to his stateroom.

His companion was nowhere to be seen.

A small steamer following next day in the wake of the first boat, came to Five Finger Rapids.

"See the pretty red seaweed on the rocks, mamma," cried a little boy, pointing to the low ledge on the bank of the east channel.

Those who looked in the direction indicated by the boy saw, as the steamer crept carefully up to the whirlpool, a woman's white face in the water, above which streamed a mass of long auburn hair, caught firmly on the rocks.

Standing by the side of his pilot, the captain's keen eye caught sight of the head and hair.

"It's only Dolly Duncan," he said, with a shrug of his shoulders. "No one else has such hair; but it's no great loss anyway; there are many more of such as she, you know."

DAWSON.

This latter fort is an old Canadian Post where mounted police and other officers and soldiers are stationed. Never shall I forget my first experience at Fort Selkirk. We arrived about one o'clock in the afternoon and were told that our steamer would remain there an hour, giving us all a chance to run about on shore for a change. Taking my sunshade, and attracted by the wide green fields dotted with pretty wild flowers of various colors, I rambled around alone for an hour, all the time keeping our steamer in plain sight not many hundred yards away. Curious to learn the meaning of a group of peculiar stakes driven into the ground, some of which were surrounded by rude little fences, I made my way in a narrow path through the deep grass to the place, and soon discovered an Indian burial ground. There were, perhaps, twenty little mounds or graves, a few much sunken below the level as if made long years before, but all were marked in some manner by rude head boards.

These were notched, and had at one time been fancifully stained or colored by the Ayan Indians, the stains and funny little inscriptions being, for the most part, obliterated by the elements. Dainty wild roses here nodded gracefully to each other, their pretty blooms being weighted down at times by some venturesome, big honey bee or insolent fly; both insects with many others, some of them unknown to me, buzzing contentedly in the sunshine overhead.

Daisies and buttercups grew wild. Flowering beans and peas trailed their sprays upon the ground. Blue bells, paint brush, and other posies fairly bewildered me, so surprised was I to find them here in this far Northland. Without this happiness and cheer given me by my sweet little floral friends I might not have been so well prepared to endure the rudeness that was awaiting me.

Upon my return to the steamer I found all in confusion. I could see no signs of departure and no one of whom I cared to make inquiries. Men and women were coming and going, but none appeared sober, while many with flushed faces were loudly laughing and joking. A few Canadian police in red coats scattered here and there were fully as rollicking as any, and the steamer's captain and purser, arm in arm with a big, burly Canadian official, were as drunk as bad liquor could well make them.

Going to my stateroom I sat down to read, and, if possible, hide my anxiety. As there was no window or other ventilator, and it was a warm day, I could not close the door. While sitting thus the doorway was darkened, and looking up I saw before me the drunken Canadian official, leering at me with a horrible grin, and just about to speak.

At that instant there stepped to his side the tall form of the only really sober man on board--the Seattle lawyer, who, in his most dignified manner motioned the officer on, and he went; the gentlemanly lawyer, tossing his half-consumed cigar overboard in an emphatic way as if giving vent to his inward perturbation, marched moodily on. Catching a glimpse of his face as he passed, I concluded that the situation was fully as bad or worse than I had at first feared. Already we had been several hours at Fort Selkirk and should have been miles on toward Dawson.

The captain and crew were too drunk to know what they were doing, and they were hourly growing more so. Many were gambling and drinking in the salon or dining room and others came from the liquor store on shore a few rods away. The voices of the women were keyed to the highest pitch as they shouted with laughter at the rough jokes or losing games of the men, while red-faced, perspiring waiters hurried back and forth with trays laden with bottles and glasses. Now and then the crash of a fallen pitcher or plate, followed by the shrieks of the women would reach me, and looking through the great cracks in the board partition which was the only thing separating me from the drunken crowd, I could see most of the carousal, for such it now was.

My anxiety increased. I feared the danger of a night on board in a tiny stateroom, without lock or weapon, and entirely alone.

"Tomorrow, most likely," in a tone of deep disgust.

"Do you not think that the captain will push on tonight?" I asked in great anxiety.

"I doubt if there is a man on board with enough sense left to run the engine, and the captain--look there!" pointing to a maudlin and dishevelled Canadian wearing a captain's cap, and just then trying to preserve his equilibrium on a wooden settle near the railing. "It would be a blessing if the brute tumbled overboard, and we were well rid of him," said the gentleman savagely in a low tone. Then, seeing my consternation, he added: "I'll see what can be done, however," and I returned to my room.

What should I do! I knew of no place of safety on shore for me during the night if the steamer remained, and I dared not stay in my stateroom. I had no revolver, no key to my door. I might be murdered before morning, and my friends would never know what had become of me. There was no one on board to whom I could appeal but the lawyer, and he might be powerless to protect me in such a drunken rabble. With a prayer in my heart I made my nerves as tense as possible and shut my teeth tightly together. It was best to appear unconcerned. I did it. Suggesting away all fright from my face I watched proceedings in the dining room through the cracks in the wall. It was a sight such as I had never before seen. It was six o'clock and dinner was being served by the flushed and flustered waiters. Probably a hundred persons sat at the tables in all stages of intoxication. Hilarity ran high. Most of them were wildly jolly and gushingly full of good will; but all seemed hungry, and the odors from the kitchen were appetizing.

I now hoped that the dinner, and especially the hot tea and coffee would restore some of these people to their senses in order that they might get up steam in the engines and pull out of this terrible place before they were too far gone. Dinner was well over in the dining room and I had not yet eaten. A waiter passed my door. He stopped.

"Have you eaten dinner?"

"No, I have not."

"Don't you want some?"

"Well, yes. I think I could eat something."

"I'll bring you some." And he was gone.

A few minutes later he entered my stateroom with a big tray, and putting it upon the edge of the upper berth he left me. I ate my dinner from the tray while standing, and felt better.

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