The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Land of Nome, by Lanier McKee This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: The Land of Nome A narrative sketch of the rush to our Bering Sea gold-fields, the country, its mines and its people, and the history of a great conspiracy (1900-1901) Author: Lanier McKee Release Date: April 8, 2010 [EBook #31921] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAND OF NOME *** Produced by Greg Bergquist and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) Transcriber’s Note The punctuation and spelling from the original text have been faithfully preserved. Only obvious typographical errors have been corrected. THE LAND OF NOME THE LAND OF NOME A A NARRATIVE SKETCH OF THE RUSH TO OUR BERING SEA GOLD-FIELDS, THE COUNTRY, ITS MINES AND ITS PEOPLE, AND THE HISTORY OF A GREAT CONSPIRACY 1900–1901 BY LANIER McKEE THE GRAFTON PRESS NEW YORK Copyright, 1902, by The Grafton Press PREFACE FTER returning from his first experience in Alaska in 1900, the author was prompted to write from his diary, primarily for his friends, a sketch of the rush to the Cape Nome gold-fields and the character of the country and its people. This account, with some modifications, forms the first half of this book. The second half, parts of which were written in the atmosphere of the situations as they arose during the following year, has been recently completed upon the adjudication of the United States Circuit Court of Appeals for the Pacific Coast, which, in effect, finally frees northwestern Alaska from one of the most dramatic and oppressive conspiracies in recent history. The writer believes that the discovery of this El Dorado of Bering Sea has created an epoch in the development of our national domain, wonderful and unprecedented in various phases, and but little understood or appreciated by the general public. Because of its uniqueness, it is a difficult matter to treat adequately. Certain features of the subject can hardly be exaggerated; for instance: the magnitude and blindness of the stampede of eighteen thousand fortune-hunters in the summer of 1900, and the almost indescribable scenes which attended their arrival on the "golden sands"; the marvelous richness of some of the placer-gold deposits; the dreariness and barrenness of the new country; and the enormity of the judicial conspiracy, whose proceedings the United States Circuit Court of Appeals has declared "have no parallel in the jurisprudence of this country." Special laws concerning Alaska, the local methods of mining, and various other matters pertaining to the country and [Pg v] [Pg vi] [Pg vii] dropt its people, are dealt with herein, probably with sufficient fullness for the general reader. The book, however, as a whole, is in narrative form; and personal experiences and character-sketches (especially in the second part) have been freely utilized for the purpose of illustrating characteristic conditions and typical people. If the narrative in places seems too personal, this, perhaps, will be pardoned, for the reason that an account of the actual experiences of a few individuals—tame, indeed, compared with those of many others—may better suggest the atmosphere of a weird land than a mere résumé of impersonal facts. Finally, it is hoped that this book may, in some small measure, prove of service in directing attention to the past neglect and present needs of our wonderful Alaska. L. McK. New York, February, 1902. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I The Rush in 1900 1 II The Hybrid City of Nome 30 III Travel to the Interior 54 IV The Inland Country—The Mines 76 V McKenzie at Work—The Storm—The United States Court of Appeals 105 VI The Dangers of Bering Sea—A Dismal Outlook 137 VII Up the Streams—An Evening at Johnson's Camp 166 VIII The Council City Mining District—Joe Ripley and Others 187 IX The Operetta at Dexter's—Nome City of To-day 230 X The End of the Conspiracy—A Word for Alaska 246 PART I 1900 I THE RUSH IN 1900 HE remarkable discoveries of gold at Cape Nome, Alaska, situated almost in the Bering Strait, only one hundred and fifty miles from Siberia, and distant not less than three thousand miles from San Francisco and fifteen hundred from the famed Klondike, naturally created more excitement in the Western and mining sections of this country than in the Middle States and the "effete East," an expression frequently heard in the West. These rich placer-gold deposits were discovered by a small party of prospectors in the late autumn of 1898. The news spread like wild-fire down along the Pacific coast and up into Dawson and the Klondike country, and the following spring witnessed a stampede to the new El Dorado, which, however, was wholly eclipsed by the unprecedented mad rush of eighteen thousand persons in the spring ensuing. During the summer months of 1899, when, in addition to the gold along the creeks, rich deposits, easy to extract, were found in the beach extending for miles by the sea, every one at Nome had an opportunity to share in nature's unexpected gift. Consequently, upon the return in the fall, the story of the wonderful wealth of this weird [Pg viii] [Pg ix] [Pg 1] [Pg 2] country was circulated broadcast. All kinds of schemes, honest and dishonest, were devised during the winter to obtain the gold the following season, and the matter of providing suitable laws to meet the many difficult conditions and questions which had already arisen, and which would be greatly aggravated by the threatened and succeeding stampede, came definitely before Congress. Alaska, legally, is not even a Territory, though commonly so called. It is the District of Alaska, possessing a governor and other officers, but, unlike a Territory, no legislature; and it is, therefore, entirely dependent upon Congress for all legislation. The Alaska bill, under the charge of Mr. Warner in the House and Senator Carter in the Senate, consumed a great deal of the time of Congress; many of its provisions were hotly debated, and finally it became a law, June 6, 1900—in the main a satisfactory piece of legislation. By it Alaska was divided into three judicial divisions, and that which embraces northwestern Alaska and the new gold-fields was allotted to Arthur H. Noyes of Minnesota, formerly of Dakota. If ever a position demanded an honest, able, and fearless man, it was this judgeship, which should be the guaranty of good civil government, establish a court, and disentangle and dispose of, among a mixed population largely composed of unscrupulous elements, an indescribable mass of legal matters, already accumulated and ever increasing. When in Washington in the winter of 1899, I became interested in Cape Nome. I met there an able young attorney from the Pacific coast, who among the first had gone to Nome, where he had practised his profession with great success and secured interests in some promising properties. He was then in Washington in the interest of Alaskan legislation. The prospects for great legal complications in the new country were highly encouraging. Lieutenant Jarvis of the United States revenue service, a man of sound judgment and few words, who so signally distinguished himself in 1897 by his overland expedition and rescue of the crews of whaling-vessels ice-bound in the Arctic seas, had been the chief agent of the government at Nome the preceding year. He not only corroborated what I had already heard, but gave the impression that the story had not half been told. My brother and I decided to make the venture, and to be content with a safe return and a fund of experience, to offset the uncertain rewards of business and law practice during the dull summer months. He took up surveying, and I spent all my spare time in studying the elaborate codes of laws which Congress was then enacting for Alaska, as well as substantive mining law and all available information pertaining to that little known or understood country. In San Francisco there were many signs of the Nome excitement. "Cape Nome Supplies," in large print, met the eye frequently. One ran across many who were going, and heard of many more who had already started for the Arctic gold-fields. All indications pointed to the advent of a small army of lawyers and doctors on the shores of Nome. But, though there was a stir in the atmosphere, the excitement was nothing compared with that at Seattle, which is the natural outfitting-point for Alaska; for San Francisco has had a long experience in these "excitements," and treats each recurring one with comparative indifference. We took everything with us,—tents, stoves, provisions, all sufficient to enable us to live independently for three or four months,—not to mention the "law library" and surveying apparatus. The C.D. Lane was the ship, named after its owner, the prominent mining man, who had backed up his belief in the genuineness of the new country by investing in it a great deal of money, and who was now taking up in his boat machinery, supplies, miners, and general passengers, some four hundred persons in all. The sailing from San Francisco, and the scenes of farewell at the dock, were both amusing and impressive. Ready exchanges of repartee between the ship and the dock were in order. Passengers held up "pokes," small buckskin bags for gold-dust, and cheerfully shouted to their friends that they would come back with their "sacks" full. But there was about it all at the same time something not altogether gay. It was no certain undertaking. The great majority, of course, would not return successful, and it was not improbable that some might not return at all. I presume that the Lane carried in its personnel an average assortment of the eighteen thousand similarly brought to Nome; perhaps, however, a higher average, due to the fact that many of its passengers went legitimately to work in the employ of the Wild Goose Mining and Trading Company, in which Mr. Lane is largely interested. Nevertheless, students of human nature could there have found an ample field for study in the array of adventurers, gamblers, pugilists, alleged actors and actresses,—a nondescript male and female population, which might very appropriately be collected under the term "grafters"—an expression commonly used to designate individuals who ingraft themselves at the expense of others. One of the first men we met was V——, who shared accommodations with us. He was a practical miner, who had prospected through nearly all of the Western States and parts of Alaska, and, like the great majority, he was going to make a try at the new gold-fields, with nothing assured, but with the determination to strike out somewhere and "make it." It did not take long to learn that the real American miner, the man who undergoes hardships and endures privations such as but few people can know or understand, is a fine, intelligent, and generous citizen, whom it is a pleasure to know. On the 24th of May the ship steamed out of the Golden Gate and up the coast, to stop en route at Seattle for additional machinery, freight, and passengers, though it was difficult to figure just where the latter were to be distributed. All ages are subject to the gold fever. We met aboard ship a gentleman of our own university, a classmate of Senator Stewart, who, catching this fever in 1849, without waiting to graduate, left New Haven with Mr. Stewart in 1850, and joined the pioneers in California. He has since then been a Congressman and held an important federal office. His ship's companions likewise had been through the "early days" in the Western country, and were now going to take a look at the new El Dorado, but, I inferred, rather as investors and investigators, and not, like the majority, dependent upon what the new country might give to them. These people were worth listening to in their continual discussions as to the conditions to be met and the opportunities to be grasped in the Nome country. One of them I remember saying that there would be more broken hearts at Nome than in any other community. And there were on the Lane people who [Pg 3] [Pg 4] [Pg 5] [Pg 6] [Pg 7] [Pg 8] [Pg 9] [Pg 10] [Pg 11] had staked their all upon this venture, and who confidently believed that, soon after landing, they could dig out a small fortune. A number of these, men with their wives, knew practically nothing about mining. I recall a woman of refinement from the South, who, with her two sons, recently graduated from college, was likewise in quest of a ready fortune. She had never cooked in her life, but thought it would be interesting to look after her boys while they were digging gold from the beach to empty into their mother's lap. This sentiment certainly betokened more hopefulness than common sense. A few days after their arrival at Nome, they departed for home, having had all the experience they wanted; and I subsequently learned on my return that the mother had been confined in a hospital for some time, suffering from brain fever, a malady which it is strange she could have contracted. The Lane remained six days at Seattle, and was one of the last boats to sail from that port for Nome. Everything in Seattle seemed to be labeled "Cape Nome"; it was in the air. General Randall and the military were there, expecting to sail for the North any day on the transport Seward, the guardians and guaranty of law and order in the new camp until the inauguration of the civil authorities. The lawyers were anxious to know the status of the Alaska bill then under debate in the Senate, especially with reference to its provisions regarding the rights to hold and mine the beach. This matter proved, after all, to be of very little consequence, as the beach had been practically worked out the preceding season and before the arrival of the 1900 stampede, about two million dollars' worth of fine "dust" having been taken from it. But the bill became a law on the sixth day of June, when we were on the high seas, and the best that the goodly sized legal fraternity represented on the Lane could do was to discuss the proposed provisions, and "what would you do in such a case?" There was developing aboard ship a certain nervousness to get away—people wanted to arrive among the first, and thought that they were losing valuable time; but Mr. Lane, who had been at Nome before, remarked that we should arrive there none too late, and his judgment proved to be sound. Leaving Seattle June 3, with something of a send-off and some interesting additions to the passenger list, associations with civilization were finally severed. As it is problematical in the spring just when the Bering Sea is free from ice, the first objective point of all vessels bound for the Arctic regions is Dutch Harbor, Unalaska, one of the numerous Aleutian Islands at the mouth, so to speak, of Bering Sea, which extend in a broken chain across the Pacific Ocean almost to the coast of Asia. The stretch from Seattle to this Bering Sea harbor of refuge is twenty-one hundred miles, and the route is not like that of the delightful inside passage up the Gulf of Alaska, by Sitka and the Muir Glacier, replete with magnificent scenery, and calm. On the contrary, it furnishes nothing to gaze upon except the majestic and not always sufficiently tranquil ocean. There was, of course, on the Lane a goodly representation of the genus "know-all," whose fortunes were really assured by reason of an infallible combination which they held or device which they had contrived. Such a combination was a certain Alaska "syndicate," from the East, whose component parts consisted of an ex-"judge," to decide the vital legal questions which might arise in the acquisition of property; an attorney, to search titles; a general manager, who declared that he didn't know gold from brass, but would soon find out the difference; a couple of engineers, and some others—not to mention clever machinery with which to extract gold, supplies of all kinds for a year at least, and the essentials of a ready-made house which could weather the fierce winter Arctic gales. It was really too good to endure long. Then, there were individuals who could demonstrate by their blue-prints just how the gold was to be dredged from the sea, it being to them a moral certainty that the gold, probably emanating from the Siberian shore, had been washed by the ocean upon the beach. One of professed large experience vehemently maintained that his theory of the beach deposits was the correct one; that is to say, the gold came down the Yukon River attached to the bottom of icebergs which were carried out to sea, and then, somehow, through the kindness of the Japanese current, the gold which they brought was deposited upon the long-extending beach at Cape Nome! Of course, as had been clearly demonstrated in the preliminary United States geological report, the beach gold had been carried down from the interior by the streams emptying into Bering Sea, and there distributed in the black and "ruby" sand. The atmosphere became chill and penetrating, the sunsets later, the nights less dark. The crowd were kept in good nature by sparring-matches conducted along professional lines, mock trials, concerts, and recitations by the "profession." The popular song "Because I Love You" was murdered several times daily, only to be re-resurrected. We made the acquaintance of another Yale man, Mr. C——, a member of the California bar, with whom I worked, weather and disposition permitting, over the proposed Alaska laws, and with whom I later formed a law partnership. Early in the morning of June 11 the Lane went through Unimak Pass and was steaming toward Dutch Harbor, all aboard eager, with eyes straining, to see whether the vessels which had preceded us were there, or had continued up into the Bering Sea, navigation being open. To the surprise and delight of nearly all, there lay at anchor in that magnificent harbor, almost landlocked, what appeared to be the entire Nome fleet—steamers of all sizes, sailing-craft laden with lumber and black with passengers, and the United States vessels Wheeling, McCullough, Manning, Rush, and Lawton. It is a weird and majestic spot. Great hills, almost mountains, barren of timber or shrubbery of any kind, and streaked with snow, come down precipitous to the water's edge. Rising beyond these are snow-covered mountains. Not a tree nor anything green is visible. The surface is somber with the all-pervading tundra, or Russian moss, which stretches over the greater part of Alaska and northern Siberia. Looking down the harbor are discovered the large warehouses of one of the great Alaska commercial and trading companies, and the ancient and unique Russian [Pg 12] [Pg 13] [Pg 14] [Pg 15] [Pg 16] [Pg 17] [Pg 18] [Pg 19] [Pg 20] settlement of Unalaska, peopled mainly by a mixed-breed population of Russian, Japanese, and native Eskimo constituents. There are a picturesque little Russian church, and the Jesse Lee Home for orphans and foundlings, endowed by a number of charitable women in Washington. It was quickly learned that a number of the more adventurous ships were frozen up in the ice. Others were not known about; perhaps they had found a lucky opening and slipped through. Several of the vessels then in the harbor, essaying to get through, had met with ice in quantity, and had discreetly returned. A photograph taken by a passenger on one of these latter ships, posted up on the Lane, tended to chill the ardor of some of the enthusiastic souls who were for going right through and losing no time in accumulating wealth. It is safe only for wooden vessels, specially fortified for the purpose, to "buck" the ice, such as whalers and the United States revenue cutter Bear, which was among the first to arrive at Nome. The Santa Anna had had a fearful time of it, having been afire in the hold for four days, reaching Dutch Harbor, however, with no lives lost, but with all baggage destroyed. Naturally, every one was keen to be ashore and to stroll about the island, meeting friends who had come on other vessels. Everything was "wide open." Hastily-erected saloons and gambling devices of all kinds were doing a flourishing business, patronized indiscriminately by the sexes; and there was a large run on the stores for candies and sweets generally. I trustingly gave to one of the most intelligent-looking native women some soiled clothes to wash. When returned they were scarcely recognizable, but she insisted that they belonged to me. People were almost universally complaining about the over-crowding on their ships and the poor food, so much so that we of the Lane began to believe that we were living strictly en prince. Some of the horses which had been taken ashore were in a pitifully cut-up condition, but nearly all that I saw at Nome were splendid-looking animals. Base-ball matches between nines picked from the various ships were held, with the usual ensuing umpire difficulties. After a while, however, the novelty of the thing wore away. Under the leadership of a certain "judge," prominent in the organization of townships in Oklahoma, a party of us from the Lane, half in jest and half seriously, staked out, pursuant to law, a town site to be known as "Lane City," and drew lots for our respective real-estate holdings. This move seemed to create some little stir, and there appeared many who wished to secure a lot in the new metropolis. I believe that I am still the town recorder; but it will be very strange indeed if the law will suffer such transient guests thus to create, and in absence maintain, a town site, and the more especially so when others claim the ownership of the property. As a matter of fact, Dutch Harbor will very probably become an important station in the Philippine and Asiatic trade of this country; and General Randall, in a recent report, has strongly recommended the government acquisition of land there for commercial and outfitting purposes. The weather had been somewhat misty and chilly, with only occasional gleams of sunshine. It was not disagreeable, however, and at times was very pleasant. The ships were daily setting out for the North, and the Lane was delaying with a number of others, awaiting the advent of an expected collier. There were excitement and curiosity, indeed, when the Cleveland came in, the first large vessel to discharge passengers and freight at Nome and to return for a second trip. Adventurous, she had taken advantage of a lucky break in the ice, and had safely gotten through and reached her destination. The dock was crowded with people seeking interviews with those returning on the Cleveland. The latter were, for the most part, a poor-looking collection, who told dire and terrible tales of the Nome "fake" and of the lawlessness and crime existing there. They said that the beach had been exhausted of its gold, and that people were leaving for home as quickly as the steamers would take them or they could scrape up enough money to pay their passage. To those especially who were relying upon getting ready money from the beach this news was not reassuring. On June 17 the Lane withdrew from Dutch Harbor and headed up into Bering Sea. Whales were frequently seen, sometimes very close to the ship, and we occasionally skirted around fields of ice. A matter about which we particularly wished to know, and regarding which the testimony of experts was sharply conflicting, was just what kind of a climate is that of the Nome country. Some said that it was chilly and that it rained all the while, and that rubber boots and oilskins were always essential; a former whaling captain, with whom I could talk New Bedford, said that frequently during the middle of the day the sun was so hot as to be almost unbearable. But as to knowing anything at that time, the weather proposition was a gamble. Since the coming of the Cleveland there could be detected among the "syndicate" a certain lack of enthusiasm, as evidenced by a few chance remarks about the comforts of home, and a less sprightly step and challenging eye. But, generally, on nearing the destination, the crowd aboard ship were in good spirits, though, naturally, somewhat more serious. It was now practically perpetual daylight. The first sight of Nome City, as we steamed toward the place in the clear morning light of June 20, was impressive. It was indeed a "white city," tents, tents, tents extending along the shore almost as far as the eye could see. Scattered in the denser and more congested part of the town were large frame and galvanized-iron structures, the warehouses and stores of the large companies; and there was the much-talked-of tundra, upon which the multitude were encamped, extending back almost from the edge of the sea three or four miles to the high and rolling hills, which bore an occasional streak of snow. Not a tree, not a bit of foliage, nothing green, was in evidence. Had it not been for the chance discovery of gold in that remote spot, one passing along the coast would have considered it barren and forlorn, "a dreary waste expanding to the skies." There is not even the semblance of a harbor. It is a mere shallow roadstead open to the clear sweep and attack of the Bering Sea. Anchored from one to two miles from the shore were strung along, I may say, scores of nondescript steamers and sailing-craft, with here and there a tug towing ashore lighters filled with passengers or freight, or bringing them back empty. These tugs were so few that they could command almost any price for a day's use, and proved veritable gold-mines to their owners. When the sea is at all rough no disembarking can be done. We were in great good luck to have at that time an unprecedented spell of clear weather and calm seas, which tended to [Pg 21] [Pg 22] [Pg 23] [Pg 24] [Pg 25] [Pg 26] [Pg 27] [Pg 28] [Pg 29] dropt lessen the confusion and misery, which were, even under those favorable conditions, only too great. Well, here we were finally and at last, and now to face the music! Bundled into scows, passengers were towed by the light-draft boats to within some thirty feet of the shore, and then the scows were allowed to drift in upon the moderate but wetting surf. Women were carried ashore on the backs of men who waded out to the lighters; and the men, for the most part, completed the remaining distance in their rubber boots, or got wet, or imposed upon the back and good nature of some accommodating person. II THE HYBRID CITY OF NOME HE town forms dense right at the shore, extending back and along upon damp and muddy soil hitherto covered by the deep and marshy moss. The Snake River, a sluggish, unnavigable stream, coming from the back-lying hills and through the tundra, empties into the sea where the town tapers off at the north, and thereby forms a sand-spit. The first impressions after landing were those of confusion, waste, and filth. The shore was an indescribable mass of machinery, lumber, and freight of all kinds, the greater part of which represented fortunes thrown away. Scattered about and along the shore, looking for an opportunity to steal, were as tough a looking lot of rascals as one could meet. Upon walking into the center of the town one was greeted by a sight which beggars description. Certainly it was a case of "whited sepulcher." The whiteness viewed from afar disappeared. The main street was lined with hastily-erected two-story frame buildings, with here and there a tent—a series of saloons, gambling-places, and dance-halls, restaurants, steamship agencies, various kinds of stores, and lawyers' "offices." It was filled with a mass of promiscuous humanity. Loads of stuff drawn by horses and dog-teams were being carted through the narrow, crowded ways, and the cry of encouragement to the dogs of "Mush on" (dog French for Marchons) was heard frequently. Miners with heavy packs on their backs were starting out for the claims on the creeks and into the unknown interior, but the "bar-room" miner was far more in evidence. It was not the typical mining camp where the population for the greater part is composed of hardy, honest people who have undergone privation to reach their destination, and thereby represent, in a measure, the survival of the fittest; for this was a great impossible hybrid sort of city, accessible by steamer direct from San Francisco and Seattle, where the riffraff and criminals of the country were dumped, remote from the restraints of law and order. I heard old-timers who had visited all the principal mining camps in recent years remark that this Nome was the "toughest proposition" they had ever encountered, and I must admit that it would be difficult to picture anything tougher. However, it was soon realized that the matter to be reckoned with was that of sanitary conditions, or rather the lack of them. The general "toughness" of things and the inconveniences of getting settled had been in the main foreseen and discounted, but the rather alarming outbreak of smallpox in the camp, and the reported filling up of the "pest-house," made matters somewhat more involved and complicated. There had been a warning in Seattle that certain vessels were bringing up persons infected with the disease, and two of the suspected ships were then being held in quarantine by the vigilant government representative, Lieutenant Jarvis, but the disease had, nevertheless, secured a foothold in the camp. Undoubtedly, however, the matter was grossly exaggerated, and there were probably more deaths from pneumonia than from any other disease. The smallpox scare, nevertheless, gave the doctors a good opening, for vaccination was strictly in order. Considering in retrospect the site of the place, the total absence of any sewerage, and the great motley crowd there herded together, Nome proved to be a remarkably healthy camp—a fact due, in the main, to the prompt measures for sanitation taken by General Randall immediately upon his arrival, and the introduction into the town, later in the season, of good water conveyed by pipes from the streams beyond. During the preceding year typhoid had been very prevalent and deaths numerous. A repetition was thus happily avoided, though, during the first days the prospects seemed indeed dismal, and the old-timers (always spoken of as "sour doughs" in Alaska) predicted that, after the rains should set in, the people were going to die like flies; and, without the least exaggeration, it certainly looked that way. I believe, nevertheless, that if the story could be told, it would be learned that more lives have been lost in that country through drowning than in any other way. Hundreds of gold-hunters, in small and unseaworthy boats, as soon as they could do so, left Nome to prospect the remoter coast and possible creeks, many of whom perished in the sudden and fierce storms which occur in the Bering Sea, and wives and mothers wondered why no letters came from Alaska. We were four or five days collecting our seventeen packages of freight, and with V—— took turns day and night waiting for the uncertain lighters to come ashore with their mixed loads of machinery and miscellaneous supplies. I believe that between us we saw and examined every parcel which came from the hold of the Lane. C—— was ill aboard ship, and we looked after his freight as well. Some days it was too rough to discharge any, or a tug could not be secured or had broken down. It was good luck finally to get it all, for many were left high and dry with nothing, their vessels having returned for a second trip with cargo not wholly discharged. During these nights—or what should have been nights—we were fortunate to have extended to us the hospitality of the floor of the storehouse of the Wild Goose Mining and Trading Company, and I can very distinctly recall the stretched-out, blanketed figures lying about, the [Pg 30] [Pg 31] [Pg 32] [Pg 33] [Pg 34] [Pg 35] [Pg 36] [Pg 37] coughing of a sick Eskimo family in the attic above, and the yelling of the fellow across the way exhorting people in the ever-restless street to enter the dance-hall and see the "most beautiful women in the world." Until our tents and provisions could be collected, it was necessary to live, so to speak, "on the town," but restaurant competition was already so keen that one could get a really excellent and clean meal for a dollar and a half or a dollar. I drank no water at all, unless it had been boiled, and then took it with tea. It is possible thus to accustom one's self; but I distinctly remember being on one occasion so thirsty as to give fifty cents for a glass of ginger-ale, and poor at that. Despite our special vigilance in watching our freight as it accumulated on the shore, in an unguarded moment, when our backs were turned, one of the numerous thugs stole V——'s valise, containing many essentials and keepsakes of the miner which could not be replaced. The calm, manly manner in which he bore his great loss, for which my brother and I felt partly responsible, was an excellent example for us when, on the morrow, we similarly had stolen from us the sack which contained our invaluable sleeping-robes, made from army blankets, things which we missed all summer, and the lack of which made us mentally sore. Of course, among such an assortment of persons, there were a number of murders, suicides, and indulgences in "gun-play," and it was not precisely the proper thing in the small hours to stroll carelessly about the place. Early in the spring of 1900 a "strike" had been made at Topkok, a small stretch of beach some thirty miles east of Nome, near the mouth of a dry creek called Daniel's. Four men with primitive contrivances had taken out at least forty thousand dollars' worth of gold-dust in thirty days, when the secret leaked out, and a stampede to that quarter ensued. Small vessels of all kinds, charging from fifteen to twenty-five dollars a passenger and a good deal for freight, were making the trip, crowded, between Nome and the new diggings. It was generally conceded that all the ground along the creeks back of Nome, and the tundra, had been staked and restaked for many miles; in fact, nearly all the surrounding country had been gobbled up, on speculation mainly, after the rich discoveries on Anvil and other creeks. There had been a rush to Port Clarence, forty miles north and west, but it was common belief that no gold had been discovered there, and that it was a mere real-estate boom and a fake excitement. Cape York, thirty miles beyond Port Clarence, which had been reported rich the preceding fall, and where it was believed there would be a considerable and prosperous settlement the following season, had not panned out successfully. The beach about Nome had been already practically exhausted, so that it yielded in its best spots only a few dollars a day, an amount which does not go very far in a new country. It was, therefore, a serious question for the average miner to decide in what direction and how he should move. Undoubtedly, the poverty of the beach, which was considered common property, was a keen disappointment to the many who had hoped to take from it sufficient wherewithal to tide them through the winter and furnish a little capital for future operations. The working season is short, scarcely three months, as operations must practically cease when the water freezes; and one must "strike it" early, or not at all. Hundreds of the adventurers immediately threw up the sponge, cursed the Nome "fake"; and, if they could pay the fare, departed for home. The steamers for the most part were returning as crowded as they came, and many of their passengers, on reaching home, exaggerating the sufficiently bad conditions which did exist, immediately circulated in the press of the country most alarming accounts of the situation at Nome, and also generally condemned as a fraud a country marvelously rich in gold, a country which they had not given even a decent trial. Having finally collected the bulk of our freight, we put up a tent on the sand-spit across the Snake River, half a mile perhaps from the heart of the metropolis, the only ground except the beach which was not tundra. This place was already becoming thickly populated with temporary tenants like ourselves, small stores of various kinds, and lodging- tents, not to mention a fat individual near us who, decorated and bedecked with medals, hung out her sign—"Lady Barber." Our camp was about fifty yards from the ocean. Driftwood from Siberia, tossed up by unusually severe storms, lay about in quantity. V——, with his mining partner, R——, camped with us, and all took turns in guarding the provisions, cooking, and doing camp chores generally, during this period of deliberation. At times during the day it was very warm,—the sun blazed down hot,—but toward six o'clock in the evening it became chilly, and at night it was positively and uncomfortably cold; for, be it remembered, all through that section of the country, a few feet from the surface, and this, too, in the case of the tundra, perennial layers of ice and frozen ground are met. Putting a flooring to the tent, and the purchase of some reindeer-skins to fill the want caused by the "lifting" of our sleeping-robes and the mysterious disappearance of the folding cots, made the nights much more agreeable, and, furthermore, we were becoming inured to the climatic conditions. The midnight sun stood up in the heavens small and red like a toy balloon; and it was the perpetual daylight, aggravated through the whiteness of the tent, which, aided by the cold, made those first nights almost sleepless ones. Near us, living in a small hut fortified with driftwood and canvas, was a queer little old German-American, who was one of the pioneers in the Nome region. He was addressed as "Captain Cook," and, with a twinkle in his bright eye, he referred to his abode as his "castle." We secured his good will, and the old fellow related some of his interesting experiences. He said, now that he had accumulated some gold, he was going home in the autumn to see his "leetle wife in Kansas City," whom he had not seen for many years. Westward along the beach, for miles, all kinds of contrivances, from the simple hand-"rocker" to complicated machinery, were being used to get the gold; but the men did not seem cheerful in their work, and most of them would freely and candidly admit that they were not making even good wages. Among the many strange sights on the beach was an enormous machine, built upon huge barrels, which some of our friends with the blue-prints were making ready to dredge gold from the sea. It represented a great deal of money. When subsequently launched, and tons of sand had been taken by it from beneath the sea, not five cents' worth of gold was found to compensate for the enormous expense and labor. Not far away, at a point which was to be its terminal, men were landing as best they could the machinery, rails, and ties for the railroad of the Wild Goose Company, which was to extend for several miles back over the tundra [Pg 38] [Pg 39] [Pg 40] [Pg 41] [Pg 42] [Pg 43] [Pg 44] [Pg 45] [Pg 46] dropl to the rich placer-mines on the creeks. Hundreds were living in tents upon the beach, thanks to the clemency of the weather. Within a very short distance from our camp, with their freight piled about, were the "syndicate," and quite unenthusiastic. There was defection in their camp. Actually, the "syndicate" were selling out, and without a struggle. Several of its members very soon bade us farewell, and pulled out for what they thought the "real thing"—quartz-mines in Oregon. And yet some of the mines on Anvil Creek even then, and with only a few men shoveling the pay dirt into the sluice-boxes, were turning out from ten to fifteen thousand dollars a day. To be sure, this was for the very few only, but, at the same time, it went to prove that the country was not a fraud. Even the dirt in those miserable Nome streets contained "colors," or small particles of gold; and it is an incongruous thought that, of all the cities of the world, Nome City, as it is called, most nearly approaches the apocalyptic condition of having its streets paved with gold! We daily crossed the Snake River on "Gieger's Bridge" when going into the town for investigation and information. Gieger was an enterprising fellow who had built a rough but sufficiently substantial bridge at the mouth of the stream, and, by exacting a toll, he was making a pretty good thing out of it. Frame buildings of the wood of Puget Sound were going up like mushrooms throughout the town, and the noise of saw and hammer denoted that the carpenters were making small fortunes. "Offices" which could scarcely hold more than a chair and a table were for rent at one hundred to one hundred and fifty dollars a month, and these, too, frequently were merely spaces penned off in connection with stores or bar-rooms. Absurd prices were demanded for town lots of very uncertain title. I know of one instance where four thousand dollars was given for a lot on the main street. The saloon which bore the proud sign "The Only Second- Class Saloon in Alaska" seemed to be the best appointed and to be playing to the largest audiences; but it was then too early for the miners to come in with their gold dust, and the gamblers, therefore, were not doing a harvest business. We met college-bred men. A man I had known at college was doing business in a tent pending the building of a bank with safe-deposit vaults, of which he was the general manager. Another, with whom I had attended law school, and whom I had never seen or thought of since, had come to Nome in the first rush from Seattle, and now, situated in Easy Street, was one of the leaders of the Nome bar. The negro Pullman-car porter, whom we had last seen at San Antonio, Texas, on our way out from the East, reintroduced himself to me on the street, to my infinite surprise, and wanted to know if I could give him work of some kind, which I was not then in position to do. We may have been responsible for his infection with the gold fever. The place was really under martial law. The town government, useless and corrupt, was practically nil; and as it was believed that the federal judge, with his staff of assistants, would not arrive until August, it was the plain duty of the military to preserve order and, so far as possible, leave legal matters in statu quo until the advent of the civil authorities as provided by the laws which had been recently enacted for Alaska. For various reasons which seemed good and sufficient, we decided to quit Nome and go to Council City. We knew that Mr. Lane's company had large interests in that region—that he believed in it; and we knew people on the Lane who had gone thither direct on reaching Nome. It was said, too, to be a healthful country, with plenty of good water and even a belt of timber. One did not hear it much discussed at Nome—people did not seem to know much about it, —but what was said was favorable. As to the means of reaching it, information was scanty, and that somewhat discouraging, but certainly the thing to do was to go by boat east about seventy-five miles to the mouth of Golovin Bay, from which point we should have to travel up shallow rivers some fifty or sixty miles to Council City. C——, who had been a pretty sick man, but who had declined to follow certain "sound advice" and return home (having joined us from the Lane), and G——, another fellow-passenger, thought the move a good one, and agreed to come with us. We four, therefore, making selections from our respective supplies, sold or otherwise disposed of provisions which were less essential, for the carrying of freight and supplies in that impossible country, however short the actual distance, is a very serious and expensive matter. V—— and R—— were building their boat, though they had not yet decided in which direction to go; but they agreed to communicate with us somehow during the season. A tent labeled "Undertaker," with the American flag on top, had just been put up for business across the way from us; and it seemed fitting that we should celebrate the Fourth of July by leaving Nome. This was accomplished on the little steamer Dora, belonging to the Alaska Commercial Company, not much to look at, but it afforded the greatest comfort and luxury we had known since the days at San Francisco, and, furthermore, it carried drinkable water. III TRAVEL TO THE INTERIOR EAVING Nome in the evening, by the following noon we were off a small settlement comprising a few scattered sod houses, warehouses, and tents, called either by the Indian name "Chenik," or "Dexter's," after the pioneer who lived there with his Eskimo wife and children. Dexter had settled at Chenik a number of years ago, and was making money by trading with the natives, when, in the autumn of 1898, the discovery of gold at Nome made him a very rich man. He was among the first to secure valuable claims. Chenik, as I prefer to call it, is a sand-spit in the entrance to Golovin Bay, a [Pg 47] [Pg 48] [Pg 49] [Pg 50] [Pg 51] [Pg 52] [Pg 53] [Pg 54] [Pg 55] large and shallow body of water with treacherous mud-flats, surrounded by great barren hills and the all-pervading tundra. Not a tree is to be seen, but rising immediately behind the scattered settlement is a steep hill, less somber than the rest, upon which the occasional wooden bier of a departed Eskimo makes the scene less monotonous. There is a small Swedish mission, in charge of a good man, Mr. Hendricksen, who was looking after the welfare of fifty or sixty natives there encamped. The entire picture is far more cheerful than that of Nome. Until further and more definite information concerning our destination could be gathered, we made temporary camp on dry ground not far from the shore, fortunate in being able to borrow some loose boards for a flooring. The weather certainly had been and was very good to us, the days bright and clear and, at times, quite warm, but the nights always cold. Generally, what was learned about the Council City country was far from reassuring. Men who seemed to be of a sturdy, reliable sort, and who said that they had been there, reported that it was not worth while, and dilated upon the arduous work of dragging one's self and one's boat up the shallow streams, eaten up by mosquitos, to find everything staked and nothing doing. I recall a Hebrew who made us a visit, and, almost with tears in his eyes, entreated us not to blight our young lives by going to Council City; and what a chapter of horrors he detailed! He maintained that we should go to Eagle City, about fifteen hundred miles distant via the Yukon River, where nuggets as large as one's fist lay carelessly about, and where there was a great field for lawyers. He insisted that we take his picture, in order that in the future we could point to it, saying, "This is the man who advised us not to go to Council City." It was subsequently learned that this gentleman had gone half-way to Council, and no farther. We met some, however, who believed it to be a good country, and who were making ready to set out for it. To get freight up the rivers a narrow and shallow boat is essential, and such a craft, twenty-two feet in length, was quickly and dexterously knocked together out of rough lumber by two enterprising carpenters who were doing a land-office business. Each one of us became a quarter-owner in the Mush-on, as the boat was christened. Living at Chenik was not agreeable, and we were willing to tackle Council City anyhow. We four, together with the more valuable of the supplies, occupied a ten-by-twelve tent, and the water proposition was worse than that at Nome. It meant a long walk up a hill past the Indian graves and along the high cliff descending steep to the water's edge, to a crevice in it which held a bank of frozen snow. This was brought back in buckets and melted, and, for drinking purposes, boiled and filtered. Then, too, the general epidemic of sickness which prevailed during the season of 1900 among the natives throughout northwestern Alaska was here manifest. They all coughed, and while we were at Chenik there were several deaths from a complication of measles and pneumonia. Two young Swedish women, belonging to the mission, were faithfully ministering to the sick, for the Eskimo is as helpless when ill as are the members of his household to care for him. Later, Dexter found a dozen of the unfortunates dead across the bay, and tumbled their remains into a single grave. It is estimated to be fifty miles from Chenik to Council City—twelve miles across Golovin Bay to the mouth of the Fish River, which in delta form debouches into the bay, and the remaining distance up the Fish River and the Neukluk (the Indian name for river-flowing-from-the-west), a tributary nearly as large as the main stream. White Mountain, a spot where the Wild Goose Company has a storehouse, a depot for its mining claims above, is about half the way from Chenik to Council, and is the head of navigation for the several small, light-draft stern-wheelers which occasionally make the trip in the interest of the larger mine-owners. It lessens the strain tremendously to get a lift or a tow from one of these boats; and, having obtained the good will of the crew of the Arctic Bird, and stre...