Klondike Nuggets by Edward Sylvester Ellis (books to read in your 30s .txt) 📕

deeds the old miner was always performing, but he did not meet in every case with such honest thankfulness.

Jeff clasped his hand warmly, and then looked at the smiling boys, to whom he introduced his friend, and who shook their hands. He eyed them closely, and, with the quizzical expression natural to many of his people, said:

"And these are the laddies ye wrote me about? Ye said they were likely broths of boys; but, Jiff, ye didn't do them justice--they desarved more."

"Tim is always full of blarney," explained Jeff, who, it was evident, was fond of the merry Irishman; "so you mustn't mind him and his ways."

Roswell and Frank were attracted by Jeff's friend. He was one of those persons who, despite their homeliness of face and feature, win us by their genial nature and honest, outspoken ways. No one ever saw a finer set of big, white teeth, nor a broader smile, which scarcely ever was absent from the Irishman's countenance. He shook hands with each lad in turn, giving a warm pressure and expressing his pleasure at meeting them. "I'm glad to greet ye, me friends," he said, as the whole party moved out of the way of the hurrying, bustling swarm who were rushing back and forth, each intent on his own business; "not only on your own account, but on account of me friend Jiff."

"I do not quite understand you," said Roswell with a smile.

"Well, you see, I've met Jiff before, and formed a rather fair opinion of him; but whin a gintleman like mesilf is engaged on some important business, them as are to be favored with me confidence must have their credentials."

"And you accept our presence with him as proof that he is what he should be?"

Tim gravely inclined his head.

"Do ye think I would admit Jiff as a partner if it was otherwise? Not I."

"But," interposed Frank, "how is it with _us_? You never saw us before."

"One look at them faces is enough," was the prompt reply; "ye carry a certificate wid ye that no one can dispoot."

"And I should like to know," said Jeff, with assumed indignation, "what credential _you_ have to present to us, young man."

"Mine is the same as the young gintlemen," answered Tim, removing his thick fur cap and displaying his whole wealth of fiery red hair; "obsarve me countenance."

His face became grave for the first time, while all the rest laughed.

"I'm satisfied and hungry," said Jeff; "take us where we can get something to eat."

"I knew by that token that I had forgot something, and it's me breakfast and dinner. In honor of yer coming, I've engaged the best quarters at the leading hotel. Come wid me."

It was but a short distance up the street to a frame hotel, which was kept by a corpulent German who had been in the country for a couple of years. The men registered, during which Tim remarked to the landlord, who seemed never to be without his long-stemmed meerschaum pipe between his lips:

"This gintleman isn't the burglar that ye would think from his looks. He belongs to a good family, or ye wouldn't obsarve him in my company. The young gintlemen are two princes that are travelling _in cog_. In consideration of all of them having delicate appetites like mesilf, not forgetting the honor of their company, ye will be glad to make a reduction in your exorbitant rates, Baron Fritz, I am sure."

The phlegmatic German smiled, and in a guttural voice announced that his terms were three dollars a day, including rooms and meals, which, when all the circumstances are considered, was not extravagant. The party carried their luggage to their rooms, where they prepared themselves for the meal, which was satisfactory in every respect and better than they expected.

It came out during the conversation that Tim McCabe had not a dollar to his name, and he spoke the truth when he said that he had not eaten a mouthful that day. It would have gone hard for him but for the arrival of Jeff Graham, though there is such a lively demand for labor in Juneau that he must have soon found means to provide himself with food.

As for Jeff, he was glad in his heart that his old friend was in such sore straits, inasmuch as it gave him the pleasure of providing for him. Tim had taken out some five hundred dollars, but a companion whom he fully trusted robbed him of it, and the small amount left barely kept the Irishman afloat until the arrival of the old miner.

Jeff Graham showed prudence in bringing a plentiful supply of funds with him, and since he expected to take back a hundredfold more than he brought, he could well afford to do so. Stowed away in his safe inside pocket was fully two thousand dollars, and inasmuch as gold is the "coin of the realm" in California, as well as in Alaska, the funds were in shining eagles and half eagles--rather bulky of themselves, but not uncomfortably so.

The experience of McCabe and Jeff prevented any mistake in providing their outfit. They had good, warm flannels, thick woollen garments, strong shoes, and rubber boots. Those who press their mining operations during the long and severe winter generally use the water boot of seal and walrus, which costs from two dollars to five dollars a pair, with trousers made from Siberian fawn-skins and the skin of the marmot and ground squirrel, with the outer garment of marmot-skin. Blankets and robes, of course, are indispensable. The best are of wolf-skin, and Jeff paid one hundred dollars apiece for those furnished to himself and each of his companions.

The matter of provisions was of the first importance. A man needs a goodly supply of nourishing food to sustain him through the trying journey from Juneau to Dawson City, the following being considered necessary for an able-bodied person: Twenty pounds of flour, twelve of bacon, twelve of beans, four of butter, five of vegetables, five of sugar, three of coffee, five of corn-meal, one pound of tea, four cans of condensed milk, one and one half pounds of salt, with a little pepper and mustard.

Because of the weight and bulk, Jeff omitted from this list the tea, the condensed milk and butter, and while the supply in other respects was the same, respectively, for himself and McCabe, that of the boys was cut down about one third; for besides the food, the party were compelled to take with them a frying-pan, a water-kettle, a Yukon stove, a bean-pot, a drinking-cup, knives and forks, and a large and small frying-pan.

Since they would find a good raft necessary, axes, hatchets, hunting-knives, nails, one hundred and fifty feet of rope, and two Juneau sleds were purchased. To these were added snow-shoes, a strong duck-tent, fishing-tackle, snow-glasses to protect themselves against snow-blindness, rubber blankets, mosquito-netting, tobacco, and a few minor articles.

The start from Juneau to the gold fields should not be made before the beginning of April. Our friends had struck that date, but the headlong rush did not begin until some time later. One of the principal routes is from Seattle to St. Michael, on the western coast of Alaska, and then up that mighty river whose mouth is near, for nearly two thousand more miles to Dawson City. The river is open during the summer--sometimes barely four months--and our friends took the shorter route to Juneau on the southern coast, from which it is about a thousand miles to Dawson. While this route is much shorter, it is a hundred times more difficult and dangerous than by the Yukon.

From Juneau there are four different routes to the headwaters of the Yukon, all crossing by separate paths the range of mountains along the coast. They are the Dyea or Chilkoot Pass, the Chilkat, Moore's or White Pass, and Takon. At this writing the Chilkoot is the favorite, because it is better known than the others, but the facilities for passing through this entrance or doorway to the new El Dorado are certain to be greatly increased at an early day.

It was learned on inquiry that another day would have to be spent in the town before the little steamer would leave for Dyea. While Tim and Jeff stayed at the hotel, talking over old times and laying plans for the future, the boys strolled through the streets, which were knee-deep with mud.

The curio shops on Front and Seward streets were interesting, and from the upper end of the latter street they saw a path leading to the Auk village, whose people claim to own the flats at the mouth of Gold Creek. On the high ground across the stream is a cemetery containing a number of curious totemic carvings, hung with offerings to departed spirits. It would cost a white man his life to disturb any of them.

It was early in the afternoon that the cousins were strolling aimlessly about and had turned to retrace their steps to the hotel, when Frank touched the arm of his companion and said, in a low voice:

"Roswell, do you know that a strange man has been following us for the past hour?"

"No; where is he?"

"On the other side of the street and a little way behind us. Don't look around just now. I don't fancy his appearance."

A minute later, Roswell managed to gain a good view.

"I don't like his looks as well as he seems to like ours. Shall we wait for him and ask him his business?"

"No need of that, for he is walking so fast, he will soon be up with us. Here he comes, as if in a great hurry."

A few minutes later the boys were overtaken by the suspicious stranger.


CHAPTER III.

UP THE LYNN CANAL.

Roswell and Frank were standing in front of one of the curio stores, studying the interesting exhibits, among which was a pan of Klondike gold, but they kept watch of the stranger, who slouched up to them and halted at the side of Frank.

"I say, pards," he said in the gruff, wheedling tones of the professional tramp, "can't you do something for a chap that's down on his luck?"

As the lads turned to face him they saw an unclean, tousled man, very tall, with stooping shoulders, protruding black eyes, spiky hair, and a generally repellent appearance.

"What's the trouble?" asked Frank, looking into the face that had not been shaven for several days.

"Had the worst sort of luck; got back from Klondike two days ago with thirty thousand dollars, and robbed of every cent. I'm dead broke."

"You seem to have had enough to buy whiskey," remarked Roswell, who had had a whiff of his breath, and placed no faith in his story. The man looked angrily at them, but restrained himself, in hopes of receiving help.

"There's where you're mistaken, my friends; I haven't had anything to eat for two days, and when a stranger offered me a swallow of whiskey to keep up my strength, I took it, as a medicine. If it hadn't been for that, I'd have flunked right in the street--sure as you live. What are you doing, if I may ask, in Juneau?"

"We are listening to you just now, but we are on our way to the gold fields," replied Roswell.

"Not alone?"

"We are going with two men, one of whom has been there before."

"That's more sensible. Let