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TALES OF THE
KLONDYKE

TALES OF THE
KLONDYKE

BY

T. MULLETT ELLIS

TORONTO
THE COPP CLARK COMPANY LIMITED
MDCCCXCVIII

NOTE
Several of the following Stories were
originally told in To-Day.

T>ET>IC ATIONi

ELYI RA

THE CONSTANT COMPANION OF MY HOURS
ON THE KLONDYKE

T. M. E.

Creek Housk, Shepperton-on -Thames,
January 1898.

CONTENTS

I. 'Ow David Smith and Me Discovered Klon
dyke 
II. My First Winter in Klondyke
III. The Key of the Treasure
IV. Klondyke in London
V. From London to Klondyke
VI. An Extraordinary Woman
VII. A Raid on the Gold
VIII. How Sandy M'Queen Paid his Rent
IX. Bow-Legged Jim's Marriage .

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142

TALES OF THE KLONDYKE

CHAPTER 'ow davit> smith and me
FIRST 'DISCOVERED KLONDYKE
f I VHE boom! Yes. Klondyke's a boom
now. The only mystery to me is, 'ow
we kep' it secret so long.
Why, it's more than six — seven — why,
blowed if it ain't eleven years ago! It was
in '87 thet I diskivered Klondyke — leastways,
David Smith and me.
David Smith 'ad done pretty well every-
think 'e 'adn't oughter — incloodin' time. Seven
years' hard, at Portland was only a bit of it.
He'd done a bit o' soldierin', an' a bit o' navi-
gatin', an' a bit o' mining. Gawd only knows
wot 'e 'adn't done a bit of! I doan' quite like
to talk of it, but trewly 'e done a murder or
two which 'adn't counted. Yes, he had thet !
A pal of mine ! Wal, you kin call 'im a
pal if you like. I'm not goin' to round on 'im
now. 'E was a good pal to me. Anyway,

10 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
he was with me in British Columbia, and
nobody but him and me and Injuns for a
hundred miles around.
It was like this we met. We was out arter fur.
I am a pure Cockney, I am — leastways, I
was afore I went out West. At fust I didn't
think no great shakes of Canada. But I cayn't
breathe in towns now. The bully mountains
for me ! The Rockies for choice ! Wal, I
was a-sayin', we was out arter fur. We was
four, all told. One was left sick at Odinotchka,
and the three of us went on. The other two
and me had a quarrel, an' we parted. So I
was left absolutely alone. I went to the
nearest place there was, sixty mile away. Sel
kirk was its name. I went into a bar. There
was only one, an' that's where I met David.
'E was a-sittin' thar by 'isself, an' w'en I come
in, 'e ses : " Stranger," 'e ses, "'ave a drink ? "
" It's wot I've come in 'ere to get," ses I.
Wal, we had another and another, and some
more arter thet, and from thet hour to the day
'e went 'ome, David Smith and me was
pardners — true pardners for life.
'E was by 'isself, and I was by myself. 'E
was arter fur and I was arter fur, so it was we
became pals.
I didn't know at fust what a bad lot he was.
We was togither for months afore I know'd
he'd done time — an' wuss. Ah ! but wot a

'OW WE DISCOVERED KLONDYKE n
heart he had, poor old Dave Smith! The
best pal, the very best tarnation pal I ever
'ad, David was !
We got on tidy wal together from the fust,
considering my temper, which ain't honey —
not by no manner of means. I used to slang
David at the beginning, an' almost came to
blows once or twice. But 'e 'ad a patient way
with him, and w'en we got to know each
other's ways, we jogged along as easy as a
man and a barrer. We was more than pals.
We was pardners, Dave Smith and me
was. Wal, we got a good bit of fur — nice
skins too. Dave was a better shot than me —
though I reckon I kin shoot. We made eleven
thousand dollars between us in three months,
wot with our two guns, and a bit o' traffic we
'ad with the Injuns, sho ! Thet was so. Dave
was the boy to traffic. Gosh ! He could
deal, that could David ! Bargain ! Ah ! the
'ardest and cleverest 'ead at a chop I ever
knowed. 'E was so !
The season was gettin' on, when I 'ad some
bad luck. I got ill. I 'ad to lay up with
nothink to shelter me but a 'ole in the rock —
still, a cave and furs in plenty is cosier than you
may think, you folks in the Old Country ; an' then
it was I learnt two things, w'en I was ill, I did.
I learnt as 'ow my pal and pardner, David

12 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
Smith, was a convic', and I learnt as 'ow there's
a spark o' the Divine — aye, and a deal o' the
kindliness of human natur' — even in the breast
of a man wot's been convicted of a crime.
I was that ill — wal, no need to describe
iv'ry shiver that come into my bones. I was
cold as an icicle. David Smith made me
warm. The tears froze on my cheeks. David
Smith kissed 'em away. Ah ! yew don't
understand what it is to be a thousand miles
away from yewr fellow-creatures, in a land
where the ice is a foot thick ; where the winds
bite like dogs, and the very stars shine cold !
We two was all the world to each other. Wal,
I had delicacies. I had gruel ; I had delicious
soup ; I had bear jelly ; wild-duck, cooked as
dainty as any invalid ivver tasted, for David
Smith could do any think with 'is fingers, an'
a'most anything with 'is 'ead. But I was
powerful bad, and oftens couldn't eat — no,
not nothink at all, for all the care Dave took
to make nice dishes for me. Encourage me
howsomever he would, I couldn't eat, an' I
grew that cold — ugh ! I shudder w'en I thinks
of it.
Still, all the time w'en I was betwix' life
and death — as the sayin' is — David was as kind
as a woman to me. There ain't none too much
fuel in the Rockies, but Dave found plenty
for me. 'E must 'ave slaved 'ard to git the

'OW WE DISCOVERED KLONDYKE 13
big logs 'e brought up to our cave. Night an'
day 'e kep' a reg'lar bonfire goin', and but for
'im and the fires 'e made, I shouldn't be 'ere
a-tellin' yew 'ow we discovered Klondyke.
The districk where we was is a blank on
this 'ere map. They calls it British Columbia,
but it was just the wildest country yew ivver
see. It was south of the Porcupine branch
of the Yukon ; it was south of Jigger's Gulch
— not azackly in the Rockies, nor yet not out
of 'em, but in a sort of a way 'alf in the 'ills
and 'alf in the plains, but the whole of it set
to cop the full whiff of all the four blarsted
winds that ivver blew. That's the Klondyke,
as they calls it now. D'ye 'ear ? — the
Klondyke — an' a one-hoss place it is.
" It's as bleak as the North Pole," ses I to
Dave one day, when I was a-gettin' better,
"and as raw as the 'ighest pint on the
Rockies." " It's none so cold or raw as it used to be
at Portland," ses Dave. 'E bit his lip as soon
as ivver 'e said it. Then I marked 'im look at
me cautious out o' the tail of 'is eye, an' then
he looks away.
So I thinks, 'an I thinks again, an' one or
two funny things that I'd seed David a-doin'
of, an' that I'd 'eard 'im say forgetful — incloodin'
summat 'e let drop about the Stone Jug — oc
curred to me. So I puts two an' two togither,

14 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
an' it all come to me like a revelation. By
this time I could sit up a bit.
Wal, I puts my 'and on 'is, an' I ses :
" Dave," I ses, " Gawd knows, there's many a
villain in Portland, an' many an honest man.
Whichever you are," I ses, "or a bit of both,
David, it may be, by Gawd yew're a true man
to me," I ses ; " an' there's my 'and, David
Smith. You're better pardner to me than my
own brother," I ses. "It may be I'm a dying
man. But for yew I should be dead. Yew
can trust me through an' through. So long as
there's a ghost of a breath in me, I'll be a true
pal to yew, David Smith, come what may,"
an' I shook 'is 'and.
Wal, he tells me all 'is story — the sad, wild
story of 'is life. Forgery and theft — aye, and
murders too — was in it. It was a shocking
thing to 'ear 'im tell, an' I ses, wonderful
solemn : " David," I ses, " Gawd is a-listenin'
to me and yew. Git down upon yewr knees."
'E looks at me very funny an' suspicious
out o' the tail of 'is eye, but I takes 'is 'and
again in mine, and down I goes on my knees —
he doin' of the same through me a-draggin' of
'im, an' there we kneels side by side.
P'raps for a 'undred square miles around, all
in them rugged peaks, there wayn't no other
human beings to look at but us two. Peaks !
Wal, there was peaks all above us, but we

'OW WE DISCOVERED KLONDYKE 15
was down in the gulch. In the gulch us two
was all alone together in the quiet — all alone
with Gawd in the silence.
I don't know azackly what I ses, but my
spirit seemed to be a-lifted up, an' I flings my
arms up to Gawd, who was a-listenin', I tell yer.
I knowed 'E was a-listenin'. Bits o' the
collicks, an' the litany, an' scraps o' the old
prayers wot we used to say in church at 'ome,
all got mixed up togither with "miserable
sinners," an' all them pious words which I'd
almost forgot, though I'd heard 'em in 'Frisco,
turned wrong side up ; an' w'en I looks at
David Smith, blowed if he wayn't bowed down
all of a heap and a-blubberin' like a baby !

Dave an' me was truer pals than ivver arter
that. In not no long time I took to my feet again,
an' got to 'andlin' my rifle, an' soon I gits an
appetite, an' picks up wonderful.
So we left that there cave. Seven weeks
I was there, nearer death than I shall ever be
again — bar one.
" Now, we'll git back to Selkirk," ses Dave
— for I was still weak on my pins, an' a touch
of the scurvy comin' on.
So we sets off, not over the rocks, but down
towards the valley.

16 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
It was easier climbin' in the high lands, but
lower down it wayn't so bleak. Yet, what
with avoidin' boulders and goin' through beach,
an' wading rivers, we should 'ave got on
quicker atop the table-land, for all there was
snow. But if we had, hist'ry would 'ave been
different, 'cos, mark yer, the gold of British
Columbia is goin' to revolutionise the whole
world. An' that's wot we was a-findin' of- —
the gold of British Columbia, though we wasn't
so much as even a-lookin' for it, mind yer.
No — nor even dreamin' of lookin' for it, w'en
we come plump upon it, unbeknown.
Wot we found down in the valley was this.
Yes, I wears it 'ere in my pin. That's the
first bit o' gold found in Klondyke. It's only
a little nugget, ain't it? Wal, I jest keeps
that for my necktie. Pretty, eh ?
It was Dave wot found it. 'E says : " Strike
me!" says 'e. "Wot's this 'ere?" An' 'e
jumps in the air like a madman. In a jiffy 'e
was down on 'is belly, washin' of it in the
stream. Nex' moment 'e gits it in his teeth
a-bitin' of it. Then he slaps me on the back,
fit to break me in 'alf. "It's gold ! " 'e says.
"I tell yer, mate, it's gold!" An' 'e falls a-
laughin'. A minit arter that 'e looks at 'is feet. " This
'ere is pay dirt we're a-treadin' on," 'e ses

'OW WE DlSCOVEREDyKLONDYKE if
very solemn. Then 'e cocks 'is eye around up
an' down the valley. " There's a lot of it,"
he ses. Then he looks up at the mountain
ranges. " I don't see no quartz," 'e ses, kinder
disappinted like. Then 'e looks at wot we
was a-walkin' in, an' fallin' down on 'is 'ands
an' knees, began to scratch up the ground
like a dawg arter a rat. Wal, I stood a-
watchin' of 'im, an' soon he strides off to the
stream again with both his hands full o' dirt,
and 'e washes it mighty particular and slow.
Then 'e waves to me, lookin' around as though
'e was fair dazed.
" Pardner," ses 'e, "look! These little
specks is gold," 'e ses.
"They're so bloomin' small, I can't hardly
not see 'em," I ses, kinder sneerin' at 'im.
" Oh, no, they ain't ! " 'e ses. " All these
little specks, matey, will shake up to a lot.
This is only a little handful, pardner, and
there's hundreds of miles of the stuff." An'
again 'e looks around. " 'Undreds of miles ! "
With that I falls on my knees too, and I
scoops up a 'andful, and lor! there was a
bully nugget the size of a kidney bean, shining
like a little light'ouse in the palm of my
'and. "Strike me lucky!" 'e ses, 'is eyes a-
glittering ; " Mate ! Gold ! Gold ! Gold ! !
Gold!!! An' 'e sits down on the ground, an'
B

1 8 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
chucks 'is legs in the air, well nigh a-standin'
on 'is 'ead.
Well, then, I sets down too, an' mighty
solemn I feels, pinchin' 'ard 'old of the nugget
wot I 'ad in my 'and — as big as a hegg it
were. It wayn't the nugget — I soon forgets that,
but my eyes was a-rovin' an' a-rovin' over the
miles and miles of pay dirt all around ; an'
besides, there was David, with 'is eyes full
of a glitterin', unnatural light, starin' at the
'ills. It was the 'ills I was a-thinkin' of too, 'cos
there wos where the gold wos washed from — ,
the 'ills where I knowed the gold lay solid.
That's wot David was thinkin' of an' all.
We gave up goin' arter fur, in coorse, an'
off we went right away to Selkirk. But jest
afore we gets to ole Jake's store, I feels David's
'and acrost my face, a-holdin' of my jaw. An'
'e got 'is mouth to my ear, a-hissin' out this
'ere threat. "Pardner," 'e ses; "yew j is' say
one word of our find — yew jis' say one word
in Selkirk about gold, an' I'll shoot yew dead."
Then 'e takes 'is 'and away from my mouth,
an' he jis' gives me one look — jis' one look,
that's all.
So I nods back, knowin' it was a proper
caution. " All right, pardner," I ses. " Mum
is the word."
An' right secret we kep' it. We traded

'OW WE DISCOVERED KLONDYKE 19
away all our skins. An' we bought some
sieves an' some skips, an' some spades and
pickaxes, an' we loaded up a cart with stores,
an' a keg of raw spirit, an' we bought a
spavinned ole hoss, wot we a'most 'ad to carry,
'cos the road was too rough for 'im. 'Owever,
we puts 'im in the sharfs an' made tracks, an'
we went right away again back out of Selkirk
into Klondyke, where we knew the gold lay.
The horse — wal, he jis' larsted out the journey.
The road was rough on 'im, an' 'e died.
Wal, we traced up a bit into the 'ills, an' we
tried here an' tried there, in the solid rock,
but nary a nob of gold did we come on to.
So Dave ses, " Let's take to washin' of the
dirt," 'e says. " 'Cos there it is, an' we knows it."
So we does that, an' blow me, ef we didn't
come acrost a very nuggetty lay. Why, there
the stuff was ! — some as big as peppercorns, an'
some as big as peas, an' sometimes a lump like
a bullet, and any amount of it in little specks —
jis' dust of gold.
The winter was comin' on, but, by Gosh ! we
jis' went at it, we two, puttin' the stuff through
the sieve as long as we could stand.
David felt the cold more'n me. I was right
agin now — as strong as any hoss. But Dave, 'e
took to corfin'.
We'd got a pile of stuff by this time ; we got
it in bags, and buried it 'gain' a tree.

20 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
" Dave," I ses, " yewr corf is powerful bad,"
I ses. "We'll stow it for the winter, an' start
agin in the spring."
" Pard," 'e ses, " Corf or no corf, I means to
work for this winter, an' all the winter — night
an' day. An' it's the last winter I means to
work. I shall then retire." Them was his
words. " I shall then retire."
Well then, we works 'arder than ivver, both on
us. Ah, cold ! Cold ain't the word. 'Twayn't
so much w'en it fruz ; it was t' thaw we
felt. Wal, arter one thaw there come a freshet.
It nearly washed away our little works — sieves,
an' troughs, an' barrers, an' spades, an' all. We
was up to our middle arterwards a-trying to
unbury the gold. But the water got deeper
an' deeper, an' then it all fruz over as tight as
steel. "Wal," I ses to Dave, "it's in sacks. It's
safe anew, I reckon. It's at the foot o' that thar
tree." It wos a fir, an' I gets up the tree with
a hachet an' I blazes it.
"We kin find thet thar in the spring," I ses ;
" I guess an' kalkilate it's safe thar."
We didn't like leavin' it, but thar wayn't no
help for it. We 'ad to go.
Dave stood a-lookin' at it an' 'e fell a-corfin',
an' 'e shakes 'is 'ead an' comes along of me.
It wos in sacks, an' safe it lay under the fir-

'OW WE DISCOVERED KLONDYKE 21
tree. We couldn't do no more. Dave's corf
was wuss. So we went to the 'ills.
I guess Dave caught a chill. Anyway, now
I 'ad to nuss 'im.
We made a little 'ome in a cave up in the 'ills
at Klondyke. We 'ad plenty of stores ; we 'ad
skins enough for bedding, an' our guns was
loaded up for bear. I kep' the fire a-goin', an'
the pot was never empty. I rubbed David's
chest with whisky, but somehow, nuss 'im ivver
so careful, I couldn't 'old 'im, for whilst I was
a-rubbin' of 'im gently, poor old Dave pegged
out. At fust I kep' 'im there where he lay, but I was
a-forced to put 'im outside, an' next day 'e was
fruz as stiff as iron.
I tried to dig a grave, but the ground was
that 'ard, it on'y turned the pint o' the pick.
So I went along to the far end o' the cave,
an' I begins to work out a hole for Dave — a
hole in the solid rock, where he could sleep
peaceful until the great Resurrection Day. Gawd
rest his soul ! Wal, it did take me a bit o' time,
but I'd nothink else to do, an' sakes ; I'd a-done
anythink for pore ole Dave.
I was all alone by myself — all alone 'cep' for
the corpse o' that frozen man. So I worked away
an' cut out the solid grave. It was all dark, on'y
I got a lantern there to work by so I could see.
So I finished the grave.

22 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
Wal, then I goes out an' I brings in the
frozen corpse in my arms, tender-like, not
forgettin' 'ow David 'ad nussed me. 'E was
frorsted all over like with silver spangles all
a-sparklin', but as stiff as a figger of cast iron.
I takes 'im up, an' I lays the poor body down in
the 'ole, quite comf'table. Only the 'ead, the
'ead didn't seem to rest quite easy.
So I walks all round the grave 'oldin' my
lantern around me, an' I thinks, thinks I — wal,
that 'ead ought to be more comf'table, any
way. I'd like pore ole Dave to lay easy in 'is
grave. Consequently, I lifts up the corpse tender-like,
alius remembering as 'ow David 'ad nussed me
better than 'ow I'd nussed 'im — or, leastways,
more successful, an' I lays the corpse a-one side
of the grave, an' gits into the grave, an' I takes
my pick to work a more comf'table kind of a
pillow in the rock for David to lie easy on.
Wal, I takes my pick and — slosh !
Wal ! d'yew know, I jus' turns my quid and I
spits it out, f r I was that took aback I had to
expectorate. I had to, I tell yer, for at the fust
blow of my pick out comes a bit of rock — a bit
of rock ! — a bit of gold ! — a bit of solid gold —
a block of the solid stuff itself — so help me !
Gold ! It was gold, I tell yer !— Gold !— Gold !
I'd got into the mass of it! — into the womb of
the airth. My pick had struck it solid, The

'OW WE DISCOVERED KLONDYKE 23
real bully ore. The solid gold where it lay in
veins, in lumps, and in chunks— the real stuff
thick in the lode. 'Tain't no lie I'm tellin'
yew. That was 'ow we diskivered Klondyke, David
Smith an' me.

CHAPTER MY FIRST WINTER
SECOND IN KLONDYKE
W'EN I wos away in the hills with my ole
pal and pardner, David Smith, a-lookin'
for solid gold w'ich we knowed wal was some-
wheres thar or nigh-bye, I 'ad to bury of David
'cos 'e took on sick, an' petered out.
That lef me all alone, but it was whilst I
was a-buryin' of 'im that I found gold — least
ways me an' 'im did atwixt us ; we found it
solid, but thar was on'y me lef to get it, an'
the winter was not only comin' — it 'ad come.
Wal, thar I was alone up in them hills, the
wind as sharp as knives, an' me alone.
Not but thar wayn't plenty to eat in the
cave — stores an' sich like, smoked moose,
which is the reg'lar food up there, an' very
sustainin', ship's biscuits, a keg of whisky,
some black twist, an' my own an' late pardner's
rifle, both loaded up for bear.
Not only 'ad I not got no pal, but there
wayn't no livin' soul about thar. No, not so
?* -

MY FIRST WINTER IN KLONDYKE 25
much as a skunk of an Injun, nary a one.
The nighest bar was at Selkirk, sixty mile
away. Sixty winter miles, mind yer ! Drifts ten or
twenty foot deep, nary a road, not a bull's
track, an' snow an' ice iverywhere. My little
'ome — my lonesome cave up in them peaks —
was a prison. I couldn't git out nohow, not
for many a long month. I was snowed up, I
guess, an' fruz in.
Durin' the first few weeks my ears got
frorst-bit, so I 'ad to be careful arterwards. It
was jis' a caution to me. I wrapped wal up for
the res' o' the winter — you can pawn your shirt
on that !
Gosh ! The cold, the hice, the snow ! The
snow, I reckon, was a mercy. I a'most buried
up the mouth of my cave with snow. I guess
it was that as kep' me pretty comf'table. But
warn't I lonely ? Didn't I pray for the voice of
a man ?
Wal, I jis' simply works. The gold was
thar, I was right on it, and nary a soul but
Gawd and me knowed thar was gold right
thar. I was the first man, mind yer, to find gold in
the hull of that region, and if so be as gold was
known afore my time in British Columbia, thar
was precious little of it, mind, afore my time.
It was we wot diskivered Klondyke — leastways,

26 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
me an' my poor ole pal, Dave — 'im wot I
buried in the cave.
Wal, I guess, for a man all alone by 'is lone
some, I stuck to it commendable. I was at it
pretty nigh alius 'cep' w'en I was sleepin'. I
wakes an' I takes up my pick. I gits a good
pile. I sorts out the stuff an' I feels 'ungry.
I teks up my gun. Air there a bird ? There
ain't. Wal, then, I chews some dried moose or
'as a biscuit. Arter thet I works again. I
carries out skips of the stuff an' shoots it in the
snow. I sees a hare. I teks my gun an' treks
thet thar hare. I ketches 'im, I roasts 'im, I
eats 'im, an' I 'as a pipe a-digestin' of 'im, an'
mebbe a nap arterwards ; an' then I works
again till I'm ready to drop, an' the long black
night, the blessid blinkin' stars, my only pals.
Thet was one day, an' all the days o' thet
long, lonesome winter was much alike. But
the cold ! Ah, don't go for to talk about that.
The cold was sharper'n butcher's knives.
But my thoughts ! Ah ! All alone, I had
my thoughts, you bet !
W'en fust I struck gold — wal, I jis' 'ad a pain
in my abdomen. It struck me 'ere — right 'ere,
an' I felt kind o' muzzy — kind o' silly. Sho
now, thet's 'ow I felt.
Then I simply went fair mad. I went for
thet rock with my pick. I fetched the quartz
down — rotten quartz it was — I fetched it down

MY FIRST WINTER IN KLONDYKE 27
all of a 'eap, all tumblin' about my shins. I
worked like mad, I did, sparks in my heyes an'
gold sparklin' at my feet, till I was fair dizzy.
Then I sot down, an' I thinks.
An' I ses to myself: "J. T. Piatt," I ses,
" the worth o' this 'ere find of yewrs is more
than 'undreds of pounds. It's foolish to say
'undreds ; it must be thousan's. But 'ow many
thousan's, J. T. Piatt, yew ain't got noddle
anew to know. Yew cayn't kalkilate that."
I ses to myself : " Wot does it mean to yew,
J. T. Piatt ? " An' thet's the riddle I used to
think out in them long winter nights. Thet's
the conundrum I used to guess under them
bright, blinkin' stars.
Then I used to think o' that gal of Boffin's —
the second gal ; the gal wot I used to take to
Rosherville ; the gal as worked in the match
factory, Sally Boffin, whose wavin' 'andkerchief
wus the last sight I see w'en I leaves old
England, an' whose las' words was : " I'll wait
for you — I'll wait for you, if I 'as to wait
ten year."
Thet was eight year ago. An' I reckons,
Ah ! mebbe she's petered out by this, 'cos she
was a bit delicate, was Sal. But ef so be she
ain't, Sal will 'ave waited for me accordin' to
her word, and " Sal," I ses, " you shall have a
kerridge and an 'ouse in the pretty meadows
with the daisies a-peepin' at yer, an' servants,

28 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
an' ponies, an' fine feathers, an' all, an' I'll 'ave a
tall yaller dawg-cart for myself an' pals, an'
we'll drive to Rosherville. By Gosh ! we'll
drive there 'ansom ! "
'Cos iv'ry day I saw 'ow rich I was, an' more
partic'lar towards the spring, w'en I'd got out a
bit in the 'ills purspectin' around, when I could
test the lay of the lode, and try the " hading "
and its depth. I 'ad got into the solid ore —
brown ore, in which gold is usual very plentiful.
In the brown ore, which was extror'nary
rich, the gold was in yaller threads an' in
flakes, an' likewise it was there, as well I
knowed, inwisible. In the rotten quartz there
was 'ole bunches of it, but wot pleased me most
was to find it lay reg'lar an' thick in a bed forty
foot wide, an' findin' it again lower down whar
it cropped out so as I could measure the strata.
Then I went about all around chippin' 'ere and
thar. Wot 'appened was this 'ere. I found
more quartz ten mile or more away from
Davy's Cave, and I leaves my rifle and goes
for my pick, an' Lord luv yer, I diskivered the
gold in the new lode I found of, was as thick
a'most as the other. Why, there was jis'
miles of this gold ! It wayn't one vein only ;
there was mountains of it — disseminated in
coorse. So I ses, " J. T. Piatt," I ses — for as thar was
nary a soul to talk to, I used to talk to myself

MY FIRST WINTER IN KLONDYKE 2$
by my own name — "J. T. Piatt," I ses, "yew
air a millionaire."
Thar couldn't be no manner of doubt about
that. It was a long winter, it seemed fifty year,
nary a soul to talk to, an' the hicicles sometimes
'angin' from my moustaches as though my own
voice was to be closed up by gratin's. I kep'
a kind o' register of the months by rememberin'
the moons, but I lorst proper account of time.
I did lose heart, to tell the trewth. There
was some days w'en my spirit was jis' clean
broke. I sat down mis'rable lookin' at my
fire, roasted one side, fruz the other, though I
'ad skins piled all round me.
Arter a time the sun seemed a-strengthenin'
an' the days lengthenin', an' I got more cheer-
fuller with the hope of gittin' into sight again
of human faces, an' also with the knollidge
thet I was rich anew to be Lord Mayor — me,
J. T. Piatt, wot 'ad bin a packer in 'is Wuship's
own ware'us' in Sin Paul's Churchyard, an'
now, very like, could buy 'im up. At the
thought o' that, I got workin' again, until
iv'ry day, with the sun a-peepin' an' the spring
a-comin', I begins to fidget to git away to
Selkirk, or to git in some other way to the trail
over the mountains towards Stuart's River,
somewheres 'twixt the waters of the Peel and
Porcupine, a-thinkin' I'd strike the Mackenzie

30 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
River, near Fort M'Pherson, and so by the
Great Slave Lake, an' home by the Hudson,
without so much as puttin' a foot in Alaska.
There wayn't no Canadian Pacific Railway in
them days, mind yer.
But 'ow was I to carry my stuff? 'Ere was
I, the only man in the hull Continent who
knowed that thar was all these mountains of
gold in Klondyke. 'Ow was I to git off with
wot I 'ad got ; the sacks of stuff wot oughter
tew go to the Stamps. 'Ow was I tew git off
with the swag ? — me, wot 'adn't no pardner.
P'raps with summer a-comin', I could easy
run against sum Injuns, an' pay 'em to give
me a lift, purvidin' only they didn't know I'd
gotten gold. Ef they knew it was gold in my
sacks, they'd put a bullet threw me as easy as
grease. The more I thought an' kalkilated,
the more I wished I 'ad a trusty pal.
So I guv up usin' my pick, an' I was out
from sunrise till long be'ind sunset arter fur.
I got a bear an' cub, an' with their skins an'
some other fur lyin' by, I kivered up an' hid
away a tidy bit of the gold wot I'd a'r-eady
sewn up in sacks. I set a lot o' traps an' got,
a fair lot of skins. Nary a day but I got
somethink to my gun, an' I was thinkjjn^cpw
I'd bury some of the stuff, an' stafT%S&^with
what I could carry towards Selkirk.
I was anxious not to blow the gaff about

MY FIRST WINTER IN KLONDYKE 31
my find, but to keep dark, an' 'old my secret
tight as wax, 'cos I know'd well that ef I once
gave scent it would spread all over the
Do-minion. Wuss than that, it would boom
all over the States, an' I should 'ave iv'ry
rough from 'Frisco, an' iv'ry derned skunk
from the Californian mines — incloodin' cow-boys
and Chinese — beatin' me 'ollow at my own
gaime, an' takin' my rights away, p'raps afore
I'd 'ad time to make good my claim.
Not bein' no miner, I didn' quite know 'ow
to set about makin' a claim. Wot knollidge
I 'ad, I'd a got from my poor ole deceased
pardner. Many a long talk me an' 'im 'ad
togither w'en we was in the damp an' dirt
lookin' for nuggets in the alloovial. It was 'im
as put me up to lookin' for the solid ore,
though it doan' look so sparklin' — the solid ore
don't — as the stuff we buddled for in the drift.
Wal, not bein' no miner, I didn' understan'
makin' a claim, but I gits some pitch — it took
some gittin' — an' I marks up the crorses of a
Union Jack, and under it the letters, J. T. P.
I marks this in Davy's Cave and iv'rywhar whar
I'd bin with my pick, an' found gold ; whariver
I'd pecked I marked up the Union Jack.
Then orf I starts with all the gold I could
carry — an' it wasn't no feather weight I lifted —
not by no manner of means. It was sixty mile
to Selkirk, an a derned rough road at that.

32 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
It wayn't on'y solid gold I took an' big
nuggets, but some of the brown ore an'
decomposed quartz, w'ich my poor ole pardner
'ad taught me as 'ow that was the best, 'cos,
though it ain't nothink much to look at, w'en
it's scrunched up by stamps an' worked
scientific, that's the stuff as brings the big
fortunes — ef it's yaller, ef the threads of gold
is thar — an' thar they sartinly was..
Lor ! but it's 'eavy stuff to carry, yew make
no mistake !
Incloodin' climbin', I carried it best part
of 'arf the way, an' then into Selkirk it's a
fair even trail. So I reckoned I'd hide that lot
away an' go fetch the rest, w'ich is wot I did.
So I goes back to my cave, w'ich I reaches
one day afore sunset, an' there lyin' on my
skins, eatin' my biscuits, an' drinkin' out o' my
keg, was three men, mighty calm, cookin'
pemmican in my pot.
So my dander riz, 'cos, mind yer, not on'y
was they eatin' my biskits, but they was a-
settin' on my pile of gold, w'ich I was orful
anxious tew keep dark. So I ses, drawin' my
Derringer! "Strangers," I ses, "yew kin git.
This y'ere camp is mine."
Right away they starts to their feet, all a-
cussin' at once, an' three revolvers was pinting
at my 'ead.
" 'Old 'ard ! " I ses, borrowin' a notion from

MY FIRST WINTER IN KLONDYKE 33
my wits. "My mates will be comin' along
direckly, six of em," an' I looks over my
shoulder, as though they was close be'ind
me. "Put down your shooters," I ses. "Let's
'ave a palaver. Who air you ? "
"We air trappers," ses one, an' they all
sets down again as cool as ice.
"We 'ave been arter fur," ses another.
The third one 'e larfs a narsty, sarkastic larf,
an' 'e says, " We 'ave been arter fur ontil now,
but we air after gold henceforrud. Ain't we,
pardners — I guess gold is our mark for the
future, eh?"
Wal, I wuz thet took aback I wuz sick
— an' I ses nothink at all — not a derned
word. " This little pile o' skins I'm a-settin' on,"
ses the sarkustic chap, " is rayther heavy fur
bear. I 'ave investigated its inside, an' I
compliment yew, stranger, on 'avin' diskivered
one o' the pruttiest nuggets as I've ivver seed
outside 'Frisco."
" I bows tew yew," I ses.
"Yew may," 'e says, a-larfin' cruel. "Yew
may bow, an' yeur six mates, too — w'en yew finds
'em. Tell me, stranger. Thar's yeur trail,"
an' he pints to my footmarks in the snow.
"Thar's yeur trail out — a single pair o'
0

34 TALES OP THE KLONDYKE
footmarks with the toes a-turnin' in — an' thar's
yeur trail home — the same pair of footmarks
inturned as afore. Wal, whar's the treck o'
yeur mates ? Thar ain't none. Yew ain't got
no mates." 'E paused, grinnin' sarkustic, an'
lookin' at the others.
" Yew air mighty secret, yew air. Wal, et's
a good find. We 'ave been a-watchin' of you
a-peckin' these rocks for more'n a week. Yew
'ave diskivered gold. Bully for us — 'cos we
'ave diskivered yew."'
My temper ain't all 'oney at the best of times,
but now my dander so riz, wot with his ex-
asperatin' larf, and them a-findin' out my lay,
that I couldn' stan' it no longer, so I jis' chips
in, an' I ses, probably a-swearin', I ses: "Enough
o' this jaw," I ses. "This y'ere is my pitch, an'
out you go, all on yer. You kin clar.'J
"Hark to 'im ! " ses the little 'un. "Thet
now is jis' wot I ses. The courts will grant
'im 'is claim, 'cos ef we comes to squarin' with
'im the jedge will say it were compulsion."
Then they talks mighty solemn in their French
lingo, confirmin' my surmise that they was
Canadians of the ole French stock, excep' the
tall, bony man, who I took to be a Yank, an'
who seemed, by wot 'e was a-sayin' of, to be
a-takin' my part a bit. But I could read this
clear — it was my life they was a-talkin' of; an'

MY FIRST WINTER IN KLONDYKE 35
whether they should spare me, or square me,
was wot they was whisperin' over an' argufyin'
of. Wal, I stood thar grindin' my teeth, but
determined to sell my life at a dear price, for
I was in a tight place, an' I knowed it. They
was three to one. Probable I looked fierce,
'cos the little 'un ses, risin' an comin towards
me —
" Look 'ere, stranger, anyway, we'll disarm
yew. 'And over thet Derringer." *S
"Not till she's spoken," I ses, an I knowed
now it was fight or die, so I riz my six-shooter
like greased lightnin'. A'most in a second I
seed the round red hole in 'is forehead as 'e
fell at my feet. Immejate a bullet from 'is
pardners pistol whistled by my ear an' scarred
the rock above me. My 'and was to 'is throat,
'im an' me a-wrestlin: an' grapplin' on the
ground. Here's his second shot — this 'ole in
my arm. It's healed pretty, eh ? Wal, I let fly
another cartridge ; it missed, 'cos we was still
a-strugglin' like wild cats, an' bullets whizzing
in the piles of ore. I was a better shot than
wot he was, 'cos w'en I straddled up, 'e lay
there dyin', the blood oozin' from 'is breast.
Then I looks roun', wondering what 'ad become
of the third man, fur I'd only dealt with two
on 'em. So I looks in the shadder, an' thar

36 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
sat the Yank pintin' of 'is drawn revolver
straight in my heyes. My Derringer was done.
I'd nary a shot left. I feels for my knife, but
my belt 'ad been tore off in the struggle.
" I'll give yew time tew load," ses the Yank,
" then I guess we shell see who is the real boss
of this mine. Air that fair ? "
"Oncommon fair," I ses.
" Yew might fust give that pore, dyin' critter
a glass o' water, or a nip o' spirit," ses he, still'
sittin' partik'ler calm on a pile of rock.
Wal, I goes to the keg, stridin' over the body
of the first man as I'd shot dead, an' I gits the
spirit an' raises the head of Number Two, an'
pours a drain of whiskey down 'is throat, but
'e was parst the 'elp of spirit. I held him
against my shoulder an' thar — wal, that was
the end.
" Now, you kin slide in yeur cartridges," sed
the Yank, " an' me an' yew will settle this thing
right out. Three to one was long odds. So I
set out. W'en yew've loaded up, we shell be
man against man. Thet will be fair."
" Yew air mighty gen'rous," I ses. " Afore
I put in this bung, will you 'ave a liquor ? "
"Why not?" ses 'e.
So I tilts the keg, an' 'im an' me Stan's
lookin' at each other over our glarses.
"It seems oncommon strange," I ses. " For

MY FIRST WINTER IN KLONDYKE 37
six months, all through the bleak, bitter winter,
I 'ave been 'ere alone an longin' for a pardner.
I 'ave been longin' to see a human face, or even
a dawg's — I 'ave been wanting a pardner bad —
prayin' to Gawd for a pardner — or even to 'ear
the voice of a livin' man. At the fust sight
of my fellow-critters we takes to killin' of each
other," an' I looks at the two dead men lyin'
thar in a pool of blood. " Wal," I ses,
"'ere is tu yew!" I ses, an I drinks to the
Yank. " Britisher ? " ses he.
I nodded. " You air from the States ? "
" N' York originally, late of 'Frisco. It was
me fust noticed this," an' 'e nods 'is 'ead at the
pile of stuff from the ore. " D'yew know," 'e
ses, "why I set out instead of jinin' in the
fight?" "'Cos yew was a Yank," I ses, "an' a 'ero,
an' three to one ain't fair."
" Becos them two, w'en they 'ad tuk yeur
Derringer, 'ad meant to murder yew, an' we
three was to claim yeur mine."
" I thought as much," I ses. " I thought as
much at the time."
Ses he, " At trapping I was game to them an'
true, but I ain't no murderer," ses the Yank ;
"so onless yew wishes of it we'll adjourn our
shootin' match sine die. My name is Colonel

38 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
Silas Jay. Yew kin trust me. I shan't let on
about yeur mine. To-night, by yeur leave, I
shell put up along of yew ; to-morrow I shell
make tracks fur Dawson's Store."
" Colonel Silas Jay," I ses, holdin' out my
'and, "you air an 'onest man, an' I could
trust yew with my life."
" Yew hev," he ses smilin'.
" An' look 'ere," I ses, " if so be, as yew
would be pardners with me — onconditionally
— I reckon et would be a square deal. Is it
a bargain ? "
" You bet," 'e ses.
" Then we air pardners," ses I. An' I goes
on to tell him in detail about what I'd found
there in Klondyke. " Now, what might you
reckon is the worth of our firm ? " ses I.
"Wal," he ses, "wot yeur half is worth, I
cayn't quite reckon up, but I wouldn't swop my
half for — wal, not for a China orange. Gi'mme
a pick. Let's give them two men civil burial."

CHAPTER THE KEY OF
THIRD THE TREASURE
TI/'HEN the first Klondyke gold was dis
covered, and Colonel Silas Jay went
halves with the lucky finder, J. T. Piatt, they
agreed that they would thoroughly prove the
worth of the find before they made the
discovery a fact of public notoriety.
Piatt was an excellent illustration of the old
saw, that it is better to be born lucky than rich.
He was merely a loafer who had tried his hand
at many an occupation before he happened to
strike gold — a loafer, though not an idle loafer —
a worker, though not a skilled workman — an
ignorant, but not a foolish man.
Silas Jay, on the other hand, was a truly
experienced, shrewd man of the world, who had
never come across a big stroke of luck in his
life until he met Piatt and became " his pardner."
He was grizzled, shrewd, and intelligent, and
had a practical knowledge of mining both
before and after the great American War.
39

40 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
In his earlier days he had made money, but
he had not kept it, and, later in life, his chances
had not turned out very happily, However,
as a trapper, he had made good money, and
was accumulating it in a small way when he
met Piatt, the lonely discoverer of the great
Klondyke lode, in need of a chum, and equally
in need of practical guidance and advice.
Piatt told his new chum how the first gold
he had found was not far away at the foot of
the hills in the alluvial ; how at first he had
washed the dirt and found it rich in specks and
nuggets of gold, when a flood had swollen the
stream and rendered further work impossible
until after the winter ; how the discovery of
solid ore had followed, through a fluke, by a
lucky stroke of his pick in Davy's Cave ; how
he had made subsequent and successful efforts
to test the lay of the lode ; and how he had
found other evidence of gold in the surrounding
district. All this interesting story Piatt told to Colonel
Silas Jay on the spot, and the two together
essayed to test the value of the discovery by
investigating the geological structure of the
rocks by proving the depth, thickness, and
workability of the lode, or rather lodes, which
had been found, and by an assay, roughly and
imperfectly made, of the ore.

THE KEY OF THE TREASURE 41
All this work was undertaken by Piatt's new
partner with an increasing energy and an
industrious interest which, in itself, was an
indication of the grizzled old miner's opinion
of the value of the find, and though he was
chary of expressing sanguine ideas, he could
not refrain from exhibiting symptoms of
delight, as day by day indications of the
character of the discovery were revealed in
detail. "What do yew reckon now is the worth of
et, eh Colonel ? What do yew kalkilate we air
worth — us two ? " Piatt would continually ask,
in that Americanised Cockney dialect which he
had deviated into through circumstance and
travel ; a question which the experienced old
miner usually answered by a French-Canadian
shrug of his shoulders, alleviated, however, by
a confident smile.
But after many days of prospecting, after
laborious examination with pick and hammer of
many a rugged peak and summit, followed by
equally tiring shovel work in the detritus at the
foot of the hills, the old miner-trapper, who had
long been ruminating, expectorated his quid
and broke his long silence.
"J. T. Piatt, yew hev made a great discovery
of gold. " Gold hes been discovered in similar great

42 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
importance to this twice only during my
memory and experience.
"It was discovered in 1848 on the American
fork of the Californian Range, near the
Sacramento, in the drift of the river-valleys,
through a fluke by Colonel Sutter. He had
erected a saw-mill, and on the very first rush
of water along the newly-built mill-race, specks
and glitterin's of gold were seen stickin' to the
rough edge of the newly-sawn planks. Them
specks was gold. It was not long, though
Colonel Sutter endeavoured to keep the find
secret, afore 'Frisco stood an empty town, and
all the distric' roun' was flockin' to Sutter's
Mill. When the Governor of California hurried
thar, instead o' findin' a desolate valley, thar
wuz 4000 men up to thar necks in pay dirt,
earning eight dollars a day a-piece.
" A little later on all the world wuz there,
an' 50,000 men workin' at the diggin's.
Statistics shewed the yield for the year '50
was 40,000,000 dollars.
" I was there myself in the seventies, an' also
afore the war. The yield I personally got
from three years' tremendous hard work,
including gambling and saloons, was practically
nil — cypher, J. T. Piatt. Do yew hear?
" And yet, through the discovery by Colonel
Sutter — through the accidental discovery, mind

THE KEY OF THE TREASURE 43
yew, owing to glitterin' specks of gold happen
ing to catch on the splinters of his new-sawn
wood in the mill-race — statistics shew that
1,200,000,000 dollars — or to compute it in
British sovereigns, — ^"300,000,000 sterling — ¦
hev been taken out of California between the
year 1848 until now.
"Turn yeur eyes, J. T. Piatt, from this
continent of America to Australia. I crorsed
the Pacific soon after the war to try my luck
in Australia.
" Gold was fust found in New South Wales
by Count Strzelecki, when the country was
chockful of convicks. The find was hushed
up at the earnest solicitations of the Governor,
Sir G. Gipps, on account of its being a penal
settlement. Thet were in 1839. Some years
afterwards it was struck rich, and ther was the
great rush for gold which affected all the world.
Many millions of gold hev since been taken
out of Ballarat alone. I myself raised about
30,000 dollars of it, an' brought back a part of
my little pile through Europe to N' York. But
Paris is a melting-pot for dollars, and London,
which is the cheapest city on airth, is likewise
somehow a place where yew spends more
money than any place in the tarnation globe.
" Now, J. T. Piatt, did Colonel Sutter, who
xiescovered California, benefit consid'rable ?

44 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
Not by no means. Did the noble Count in
¦ Australia ? Not much.
" According to my kalkilations, you an' me,
J. T. Piatt, are h'y'ah in a distric' w'ich will
boom. Klondyke will some day be recog
nised throughout the tarnation world as THE
Champion Gold Country of the Universe.
"What shell me .an' you git out of the
diskivery ?
" I will tell yew, Pardner Piatt. We may
get nuthin' at all — nuthin' considerable."
"What's that you're a-s'yin' of, Colonel?"
exclaimed Piatt, as clouds came over his dreams
of fortune. "Nothink! Nothink ! Why, look
at all this 'ere ! Miles of it ! Ain't it ourn ? "
" I don't reckon it air for certain."
" Not ourn ? " exclaimed Piatt, blank dis
appointment paling his face. "Then, instead
of bein' millionaires, you reckon we're jis' worth
nothink." " For myself, I hev about 32,000 dollars
in Van Roon & Wheeler's bank at 'Frisco,
all of which, considering the handsome way
you've acted, I am prepared to put into the
firm of Jay & Piatt, in the hopes we shall be
millionaires ten or twelve years hence, if we
are oncommon prudent, if we work like niggers,
if we are loyal pardners,. and, above all, if we
have luck. Luck, that's the desideratum."

THE KEY OF THE TREASURE 45
" Ho ! " exclaimed Piatt in a disappointed
tone, "then I cayn't drive a coach -an' -six
up the Strand to-morrer ? "
" Nor for many a long year, boy. No.
Listen to me. Yew see thet muddy river glint
ing in the distance yonder, with the pretty,
wooded islands dotted in it ? That's the Yukon.
It will be a famous river soon. These thou
sands of years it has hardly seen a living soul
excep' Injuns, but, owing to the lucky strike of
your pick, cities will spring up along that river.
All these hills will swarm with miners' camps.
Down there along the riverside, and in all the
creeks and tributary streams, which are full
of auriferous drift, there will be hundreds an*
thousands of diggers washing the alluvial.
Here, where the ore is solid and true, there
will be crushers, and jiggers, and stamps, and
the shaft of many a mine. These things are
bound to be. Gold, like murder, will out. You
can't keep it secret. This desolate hole, only
good enough for martens, an' foxes, an' moose,
will be thronged, summer and winter, by a mob
of the tailings of the world. In the long winter
which you know they will be starved ; they will
be fruz : an' in the summer they will be baked
brown, an' biled, and bit up by mosquitoes. But
they will come, J. T. Piatt, though at present
only us two knows the secret. It's that strike

46 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
of your pick that will have done it, but where's
the benefit of that to you, if the land ain't
yourn ? "
"It's a burning shy me ! " said Piatt hotly.
"Our game is this. First, we must keep it
as dark as ever we can. We'll take just a few
specimens, just a few, and shovel back the rest.
We'll obliterate every sign of the find, and we
will be as silent as the grave. Not a word in
Selkirk." " Nary a word," echoed Piatt solemnly.
" Only it's impossible to keep it dark -entirely.
We must let the cat out of the bag in order to
get our capital."
" Capital ! " exclaimed Piatt, tossing up a
nugget and catching it again. " What is
capital if this ain't ? "
" You are right, J. T. That is capital.
Solid gold like that blazin' specimen is capital
anywhere. Only, as soon as you come to swop
it about our secret is out, an' all the unhung
rascals in North America will swarm round
our claim like hornets."
" Wal, 'ow can we jis' git 'old of the land an'
let 'em work for us — let 'em pay us tew dig on
our land ? "
"You are right again, J. T. That is just
my idea. Listen to me very careful now. If
you an' me liked to set to work washing dirt in

THE KEY OF THE TREASURE 47
the alluvial we could make a tidy little pile
without its gettin' wind. But I ain't satisfied
with a little pile, considerin' the tremenjous
value of our find. I want to git to work on the
ore. I want to hev stamps here an' machinery.
I want to have an interest in all the work that
others will do here. I have sat on a bank-
stool myself. I have seen how the real pull is
got by people in cities. I wants a royalty on
. all the hundreds of millions that will be took
out of Klondyke."
"'Undreds of millions!" echoed Piatt, cross
ing his bandy legs nervously. "'Undreds of
millions, Colonel Silas ! Say that agen ! "
" Now, this is my scheme. Shovel back all
the ore you've took out. Cover up the cave
with brushwood ; obliterate all signs of your
pick an' shovel ; take back with us as many
small parcels of specimens as we can carry,
an' we will hook it straight away out of these
parts altogether, an' into the centre of civilisa
tion." " Go on, Colonel. I guess I'm with yew."
" By the centre of civilisation, I mean a
centre. I mean Montreal ; I mean N' York ;
I mean Ottawa— or, best of all, the metropolis
of the airth — London.
" Then I guess we will interview some great

48 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
capitalist, some millionaire banker — Rothschild
for choice.
"We will go halves with him. He shell
help us, an' we'll hev the biggest machinery
and the greatest and most scientific gold-
producin' factory in the entire universe."
A flush of excitement glowed through the
old trapper's veins, and his voice grew tremu
lous with enthusiasm. The younger man,
carried away by the eloquence of his partner,
leapt in the air and cut all manner of capers,
his mind lost in boundless transports and
golden visions.
A long silence ensued, during which Colonel
Silas Jay produced a twist of black tobacco,
from which he proceeded to cut off a quid for
immediate consumption.
"I'm kalkilatin' how to make good our
claim, partner. Where are we ? "
"About sixty miles from Selkirk. Yon is
the Yukon. That far-awye glitterin' water —
that's Muddy - Bend River. This y'ere is
Klondyke. Dawson's is over thar, ah' about
five mile  "
"Yes, yes. But what territory are we
in ? "
"Territory? Blowed if I know! Ontil I
found gold here with my pick, nary a soul
cared. Territory! It's the territory of the

THE KEY OF THE TREASURE 49
deer, of the bear, of the Injun trapper. Thet's
whose territory it is, I reckon."
"What I mean is — air we in the United
States, or air we in the Dominion of Canada ?
Or is it Alaska — an', if so, whose government
is it ? The Czar of Russia's or the Stars and
Stripes? Or is it yeur Queen's? Upon my
soul, J. T. Piatt, we hev a lot to learn afore we
set about makin' a claim. We're somewhere
near the border, I du know that, but who is
sovereign of these golden mountains — who
owns these golden streams ? "
" Du it matter, Colonel ? "
" It matters consid'rable. All roun' about
here, this is virgin land. It's an ice-desert
now ; in the summer it's barren rock. Nobody,
I reckon, cares to hev it or hes ever thought
of making a claim to it from any government.
Wal, when we know our latitood, and, p'raps
still more important, our longitood, we kin easy
find out who rules over this desolation — what
government rules, or who is monarch of this
realm. Then we kin spread out our sacks of
specimens, we kin say : ' Do you see them
nuggets ? Do you like 'em, an' would you like
some more ? If so, we can tell you what part
of yeur territory you can find 'em in, providin'
you grant us a little claim of, say, a hundred
square miles, an' there will still be thousan's of
D

So TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
miles lef for you. Give us a grant, an' we can
jis' hand over to yeu some hundreds of millions
of money.'
" Some hundreds of millions — that's what
you've struck, J. T. Piatt. I tell yew that,
sitting h'yah now on the Klondyke ; that, or
suthin' like it, es the value of the natural
treasure locked up in these rocks an' in these
streams and gulches. But the key of the
treasure ain't here ; the key is in London."
The old trapper finished his long monologue,
and, slipping a quid of tobacco in his mouth,
he proceeded to chew in thoughtful silence.

CHAPTER KLONDYKE 13^
FOURTH LONDON
"V^EARS before the name of Klondyke had
been whispered in New York, years
before the Klondyke boom had filled all Wall
Street with feverish excitement, and sent men
by the thousands flocking to the new diggings
in the snow-capped mountains by the muddy
Yukon River, two sunburnt, seedy -looking,
strangely-dressed men were seated in the outer
office of the great financial house of the
Rosenthals, the well-known bankers of Lombard
Street. They had been sitting there for two and a
half hours, from half-past one till four, when a
fashionably dressed young man, one of the
junior clerks, whose clothes were so expensive
that he was unable to afford lunch, and who
was consequently in a hurry to get home to
what he called "dinner," looked at his watch,
and, observing that it was precisely four o'clock,
shut his ledger with a bang, and exclaimed to
51

52 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
another junior clerk who, if possible, was even
more beautifully dressed than himself : ' ' Closing
time." Each of these faultlessly attired young men
then proceeded to remove a sheet of writing
paper from his wristbands, after which both
disappeared for a few minutes, to emerge in
polished hats, light gloves, and Deflowered
button-holes, the costume appropriate for the
worship of a certain feminine deity whose
customary adoration culminated at half-past
four, libations being offered at her shrine at a
glass and marble temple known in the city as
" Nob's." Eager to sally forth to their rites, the clerk
aforesaid approaching the men from Klondyke
asked superciliously :
" Have you an appointment with Sir Jacob
Rosenthal ? "
The men from Klondyke assented.
" Your name is  "
" Jay and Piatt."
"And what time is your appointment with
Sir Jacob?"
" Half-past one."
"Ah! — well it's now four — we close at four.
Sir Jacob cannot possibly see you now. Will
you call again to-morrow ? "
" What time, young man ? "

KLONDYKE IN LONDON 53
" I'll see what appointments Sir Jacob has,"
replied the clerk, going to a telephone, and
applying his ear for an answer. " Hum ! Ha !
What? Repeat. Oh yes. Very well. Now?
To-morrow ? No. Yes — what ? Very well.
Sir Jacob will see them then. Oh ? Yes —
immediately? Very well."
" Sir Jacob will see you now," said the young
clerk, hurriedly divesting himself of his gloves,
flower, hat, and stick. " This way if you please.
Colonel Silas Jay, -sir — Mr J. T. Piatt, sir."
The two men from Klondyke suddenly
found themselves in a very large room, where
a handsome old gentleman, none other than
the great Sir Jacob Rosenthal himself, was
seated at a very large table covered with
papers. At another sat a middle-aged man, Sir
Jacob's private secretary.
Sir Jacob looked up as the two men entered.
The secretary rose, and welcomed them to
chairs by his table. " Your name is Colonel
Piatt— No ? Ah ! Colonel Jay and Mr Piatt.
Ur. Yes. I remember. We have a letter
of introduction from your bankers in San
Francisco, Colonel Jay, Messrs Van Roon and
Wheeler. Well, what is it ? "
" We have discovered a gold mine," replied
Colonel Silas Jay, determined not to waste

54 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
time with unnecessary introductory matter,
"and we want capital to erect stamps and
machinery." " Gold mine ! " exclaimed Sir Jacob quickly
from the other table, " no good ! Dozens of
men come here every week with gold mines."
" But this is extraordinary rich, Sir Jacob."
" They all are," said Sir Jacob testily-
" They all are extraordinarily rich. Everybody
who brings a mine to me has the most wonder
ful property that was ever known. Our pigeon
holes are full of wonderful mines. I have had
reports about three — or is it four? — this very
day." " Well, our mine really is the richest, the
most  "
" And you have samples of it in those sacks,
eh ? I know. Oh, don't open them, for good
ness sake ! I have seen enough samples of
ore of late to sink a ship."
"Wal! thar's jis' a proof then, anyway," ex
claimed Piatt, suddenly producing from his
pocket a nugget of solid gold as big as a good-
sized potato. You kin look at thet, Sir Jycob
Rosenthal. It will convince yew — eh ? What !
no ! Doan that fetch yer ? "
" I have dozens of them, my good man.
Nuggets ! Mr Davis, just open that cupboard
and show these gentlemen."

KLONDYKE IN LONDON 55
The secretary slid open a door, and, taking
out a larger nugget than that which had been
produced by the men from Klondyke, exhibited
it to them.
" What is it labelled, Mr Davis ? "
" Mount Kalgoaroo."
" Ah ! I remember. That came from West
Australia. We did examine into that. It is
a genuine nugget. We sent out a surveyor.
All the claims near it were staked out by
others. It came too late to us. Too small
altogether — not worth our while, Colonel Jay.
Where do you say yours is? Klondyke?
Where's that ? On the River Klondyke, eh ?
Well, point it out on the map. Where ?
North-West Canada — dreadful place — Siberian.
Arctic ! Why, you're pointing to the Arctic
circle ! "
" It's not marked on this map, Sir Jycob,"
said Colonel Jay, studying the map which
Mr Davis had opened for him. "It's a good
map, sir, but the fact is, the whole place is new ;
it is not surveyed ; the rivers are not marked.
The place is a desert, in fact. But it air
rich, Sir Jycob. Wal, there's just millions
of it ! "
" I daresay," said the great financier in a
sceptical tone. "What proof have I of
that ? "

56 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
" Our word," said Colonel Jay, with a certain
impressive sedateness of manner.
Sir Jacob looked at the two men, his eye
lingering on Piatt's frayed waistcoat and worn
fingers. "An honest workman's word is often more
to be relied upon than the affidavit of a mining
engineer," said the great financier, with an
endeavour to speak courteously, " still, I want
more proof than a man's word. But all that
district — the North-West Territory — Alaska —
it's an impossible district. It's ice-bound."
" The winter is nine months long," said
Colonel Jay ; " the temperature is 50 degrees
below zero, but there are lodes of gold ore,
twenty yards broad. I cannot say how
deep." "Exactly! You do not know. It has not
been tested. You have had no machinery to
sink shafts. You have only had your pickaxes.
You have picked out some rich ore. Yes, you
have the proof of it in your sacks. But you
have not been able to drive adits into the lode ;
you have had no boring implements ; you
cannot have truly proved what is there. That is
what you want me to do. You want me to send
out machinery. You want me to sink a fortune
in attempting a discovery."
"We hev discovered it, Sir Jacob."

KLONDYKE IN LONDON 57
" I know. I believe you. But there is
hardly a country in the world where gold does
not exist. Everybody thinks his find is the
richest imaginable. The people who come
here to me are mostly genuine. There is gold
everywhere almost. Eastern America as well
as North-West, Central- Brazil, Venezuela, New
Brunswick. Why, I had an enthusiast here
from Ireland the other day. Ireland! and on
that shelf you can see the sample. It's quite
genuine. He quite believed he could settle
the whole Irish question if I would let
him have ,£20,000 for mining operations,
and, strange to say, gentlemen," continued
Sir Jacob Rosenthal, rising amiably, " the
very best assay of gold I ever saw in my
life came from — where do you think? Eh?
From Wales. Yes, Wales in Great Britain.
Not far — no. Between here and Liverpool.
I would show you Mr Forbes' analysis, but,
really, gentlemen — time passes — numerous
engagements. Delighted to have seen you.
It was a beautiful nugget you showed me.
So much obliged to you. Mr Davis will write
to Messrs Van Roon & Wheeler, and thank
them for this interesting interview — and, ur —
Good-day." " Discouraging," was Colonel Jay's remark,
as the two men were making their way in a

58 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
four-wheeler to the little hotel in the Waterloo
Road where they were staying.
" Wal ! Yis ! But that man, pardner, was
jis' sick of gold," said Piatt.
"He is the richest man in the world, Jim —
the very richest man in the world," said Colonel
Jay. "An' still he ain't tired of keepin' shop, eh?
Wal, we hev brought him a gold mine second
to none, an' he wayn't no buyer. Wal, that
was it. 'Tain't no good offerin' food to a
man wot's got 'is belly full. He was jis' sick
of gold. He couldn't digest no more of it.
Now, wot air we to do ? "
" I guess there's hundreds of capitalists in
London besides the Rosenthals," said Colonel
Jay. " We must see somebody else."
Every day, week after week, the two men
from Klondyke were interviewing bankers,
financiers, financial agents, and company pro
moters, ascending and descending omnibuses,
going up and down lifts, waiting in dismal
offices, and occasionally spending long hours
in the ante-rooms of banks, until they grew
quite familiar with the city of London, and
with its huge blocks of offices, each a city in
itself, with its streets of corridors, its devious
courts and passages, its light basements, and
strange electric-lit underground life, but they

KLONDYKE IN LONDON 59
made no headway towards fortune. They
made clear statements, they were ready with
their maps, they had now got papers proving
their claim, they had good specimens and an
excellent assay, but nobody cared to specu
late. " Gold mines are a drug in the market," said
one great firm of company promoters. " Bring
us a patent bicycle, and we will give you fifty
thousand for it — but the public won't look at
gold mines. No, no, thanks. Don't produce
your ore. Excellent specimens, no doubt,
but we don't want to see them. The public
won't touch gold mines just now."
"H'm!" said another firm, "where is your
mine ? Canada. Now if it had been in South
Africa we might have dealt with you. Things
must be South African now. Eh? What ?
Foolish ! All fashion. Yes, but there is a
fashion in investments, you know, so we have
to follow the fashion, too, like other people."
"Oh, another gold-mine!" exclaimed the
great Mr B  . "Take it away. London has
sunk more in gold in mines than it has ever
taken out of them. Let me have a solid home
industry for my money, well established, and
showing good profits."
They got very tired of these wearying
disappointments, and eventually they fell

60 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
victims to a sharp-witted company-promoter
of the baser sort. True, a company was
brought out, the preliminary expenses of which
swallowed up nearly the whole of the available
moneys our two honest adventurers from
Klondyke possessed, but the public did not
subscribe, though it was advertised in very
large type, and although the directorate was
on modern model lines, consisting of an
impecunious peer, a shrewd Scot, a wily Jew,
and two major-generals in the brave British
army. They had now wasted many months in
London, and were becoming seedier every
day. Vexation, excitement, and worry were
wearing them down more even than the hard
weather of the Yukon district, or the long and
dismal hours of the interminable Klondyke
winter. They decided to make one final effort,
and, having succeeded in getting a new letter
of introduction to a firm of excellent standing
whom they had not hitherto approached, they
duly presented themselves at an hour previously
appointed. " Colonel Jay," said the principal of the firm,
after he had afforded a patient hearing to his
visitor, "do you know how many men there
are in the city of London going about from
firm to firm hawking gold mines ? You do not.

KLONDYKE IN LONDON 61
Then I will tell you," he continued, after a
pause, "probably about two thousand."
"Yes," struck in his partner savagely, "and
our time is valuable. But there is one striking
similarity about all these men who go about
with gold mines in their pockets — they have no
heels to their boots."
" I hevn't got none on mine," said J. T.
Piatt, looking at his feet. He had indeed
worn them through, and was footsore with
walking on the London asphalt. " But mark
my words," he continued, looking up with a
desperate air, "though I hevn't got no heels to
my boots, an' though I 'aven't got no money,
I've got mountains of the stuff it's made on ;
an' I've got a bit of paper in my pocket wot
can some day buy up yew and yeur bank an'
the Lord Mayor of London 'isself. An' the day
will come when yew will be proud to shake my
'and. Yes, that's wot I tell yew."

CHAPTER FROM LONDON
FIFTH TO KLONDYKE
'\X7'HEN Colonel Jay an' me couldn't get no
' capital for our Klondyke mine anywhar
in the whole city of London, I felt a kinder
sick thet I hed to own up I was a Cockney —
though I hed since got Americanised in the
Stytes, an' wuz only a Cockney by bairth, an'
by reason of the fac', thet I was for years a
packer in one of the best 'ouses in St Paul's
Churchyard, w'ich wuz a Lord Mayor.
We 'ad come tew London a puppos for
tew git money tew work our mines. An' we
couldn't git none. Nary a dollar !
"Wal," ses I to my pard, "there's a gal
down Lime'us wot I knowed — Sally Boffin.
I alius meant to go an' claim her rich ; I alius
meant to drive down 'ansom, to take her a
kerridge full o' presents, to say : ' Sally, my
gal, I've bin away eight year. I didn't think
tew be so long, but I've worked 'ard for yew,
62

FROM LONDON TO KLONDYKE 63
an' I've made a fortune for yew. Yew 'ave
waited for me, and this y'ere cartload of
trinkets is wot I've brought yew.'
"Wal, I cayn't dew that thar, Colonel. So
I shell go down to Lime'us, ragged has I am,
an' I shall say : ' Sally, I cayn't wait no longer,
yew mus' cum' along o' me now. I've struck
riches, but gold air proverbially eludin'.' "
So I goes down to Lime'us, an' I calls on 'er
par. But lor ! he'd bin took home these four
or five year. So I ses : " Well, then, whar is
Sally?" It was fortunit I foun' 'ur so heasy. She
'adn't gone not far, only as fur as number two-
'undred-an'-heighteen, so I pulls the trigger of
the bell, wot was broke, an' then I knocks my
knuckles agin the door, an' I ses : "Is Sally
in?" " No, she ain't ; she ain't come home from
school yut," ses a well-knowed voice w'ich was
turnin' a mangle. So I pipt in, an' I ses :
"Gorn!" I ses, "why there you air yourself!
I knowed yer voice in a minnit. Sally,"
sez I, " Sally Boffin, don't yer know me ?
I'm Jim Piatt."
" Sakes ! " she cries, a-screechin', " don't you
come foolin' 'ere! Wot — eh? Jim! Bow-
legged Jim ! Why, it is you ! Lor', then you
ain't dead ! Wot 'ave you bin a-doin' of, an'

64 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
what for didn't you write back to me, Jim —
an' me writin' so orfen. 0 Lord ! O dear ! if
Bill a-sees yer inside 'is 'ouse, there will be
bloodshed — s'elp me, there will ! "
"Who's Bill?" sez I.
"Bill Ogg," she ses, "the cat's-meat man,"
she ses. " My usband," she ses.
"O Lor'!" ses I, "but the ten year ain't
up yet," I ses. "Ah! Sally, I've wyted for
you," I ses, reproachful, and a-settin' down, for
I was that took aback I couldn't stan' up no
longer. " Doan set down on the cat's meat," she
hollers. " Bill's that conscientious about the
meat — if it was goin' to human Christians he
couldn't be not more particular."
"An' so yew air a married woman," I ses,
wipin' the seat o' my trousers. " May Gawd
forgive yew, Sally ! I wouldn't 'ave believed
it — nut if nobody 'ad gorn an' tole me."
With that she blubbers.
Wal, I 'ardened myself, an' I looks at her,
an' I reckons — wal, she ain't the same Sally as
I knowed, an' I swore at her, an' as I leaves 'er
door I shouts: "Yew ain't Sally Boffin, yew
air Sally Ogg. Bad luck to yew an' tew yeur
cat's-meat an' yeur mangle !" an' I slams the door
behind me. An' I goes down the street, an'
thar the pruttiest luttle gal you ever see comes

FROM LONDON TO KLONDYKE 65
trippin' along with a skippin' rope — an' I
knowed 'ur in a second, fur all I was half
blind with blubbering, for the picture of my
old Sally that she used to was, an' I picks her
up an' I harsks 'ur name, to w'ich she
answers :
" Sally Ogg."
" Right yew air, Sally Ogg," I ses. " Wal,
an' dew yew like torfee ? " I ses ; so she sticks
her finger up her nose, as though it was a
periwinkle, an' cocks 'er 'ead o' one side, an'
she looks so funny comic that I fell a-larfin', an'
then I jis hugs 'er close, an' I cuddles 'er tight,
an' I kisses 'er about forty times all over 'er
prutty face, fur she was the picture of my Sally
— my own old Sally — she was her minyachoor,
an' I sets 'er down, an' I whips my nugget out
o' my pocket, for I 'adn't got nothink else left,
an' I claps it in 'er dirty little 'ands, a-s'yin' :
"There yew air, Sally; thet's a lump o' gold —
that is. I've 'undreds and thousan's o' lumps
like that on my proputty at 'ome ; yew kin tell
yeur mother that, it will make 'er grizzle,"
I ses. Then I futted it back to the Waterloo Road,
for I 'adn't got nary a cent in my pocket — no,
not a bloomin' brown.
Wal, w'en I sees my pardner, I jis' feels a
trifle dizzy — I doan' mean Dizzy the statesman
E

66 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
but dizzy in my 'ead — 'cos Silas was a-packin'
up our traps, an' orf back to Klondyke.
"How is Sally? " ses he, a-smilin' sarkustic,
as though he knowed what was a-comin'.
" Don't you mention 'er," I ses, "she's some
body else ; she's married a cat's-meat man, an'
turns a mangle."
He shakes my 'and sympathetic. 'E 'ad a
tender 'art, 'ad my pard. " Wimmen is
wimmen," 'e ses, "an' they alius will be."
"Gorn!" I ses, though I was beginning to
think the same as 'im.
"W'en you knows as much about wimmen
as I do, you won't want to hev no traffick with
'em," ses he. "I hev got a wife myself. You
hev not ; J. T. Piatt, I congratulate yew."
" Pardner," ses I, "I didn't know yew was
a married man."
" But I am," ses he, " tho' I doan' mind tellin'
yew I gave my missus the slip in British
Columbia. However, we won't talk about 'er.
She ain't worth it."
"Wal, confession's good for us both," I ses.
" There's our last nugget," I ses. " I bin an'
gorn an' give it away to Sally's little gal."
"The jeuce you 'ave!" 'e ses. " Well, 'ow
air we to pay our little bill ? We owe three
months' board an' lodgin'."
" Chalk it up ! " ses I ; "we kin pay with a

FROM LONDON TO KLONDYKE 67
Hi-ho-u ! Ain't we millionaires, though we
ain't got the ready ? "
So we chalked it up, in order tew w'ich we
'ad to go downstairs precious silent early in the
mornin', with our parcels on our shoulders, an'
they wasn't not very 'eavy — not by no manner
of means. But we wos honest, an' we lef our
Hi-ho-u be'ind us for one 'undred poun's. We
puts it along with the account both upon the
tyble, an' we goes off silent on tiptoe.
It was comf'table to think we'd settled that
little account honest. Then we starts to get
back to Klondyke ; we works our way afore the
mast, a wonderful roun'-about way ; fust to Rio,
an' then roun' by Cape 'Orn, now in one craft,
an' now in another, spendin' two year a-doin' of
it ; right up the west coast of the two Amerikas
to Vancouver, an' then it took us a bit of time
to fetch Klondyke.
We lef Victoria, whar every one starts from
now, an' went up to Juneau aboard the Pacific
steamer, The Queen. We 'ad a narrow escape
of the dangers of the Muir glacier, a thousand
feet of it tumbling into the water, close to our
steamer, an' breakin' up into hicebergs hall
around us. Destruction was himminent, but
we only thought wot a lovely picture of
grandeur them sheer solid cliffs of hice was.
They wuz eight 'undred to a thousand feet 'igh,

68 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
mind yew, an' we didn't know of our danger
for lookin' at the bewty of the gorgeous colours
in them almighty bergs. That glacier ain't
far off Juneau. Juneau is an Injun city, and
that's whar we sez good-bye to civilisation.
Colonel Silas, he ses to me : " It's a miner's city
now, becos they have thar the Great Treadwell
Mine, w'ich is the biggest mine in the world.
We see its smoke from the deck of our steamer
— the smoke of the chlorination works of the
Treadwell. They quarry the gold ore thar,
downright quarry it in an open quarry — only
it's a very low grade ore — about three dollars
to the ton. But it has a mill of 500 stamps,
and that's the biggest in the world. It works
night and day. Some day we shall 'ave a mill
like that at Klondyke. Some day ! — next year,
I 'ope. Then shan't we show the world some-
think ? Somethink ! Lor ! it will beat all the
dreams of gold that ever was ! You wate a
bit ! You'll 'ear of me."
We went by the rout that they calls the
new rout now, we went by Skagway Bay an'
Muddy Lake an' by the rapids. Only, mind
yew, instead of goin' by the White Pass, which
is mighty bad, we went by the Chilkoot w'ich
is ten times wuss.
My pard was very near fruz to death afore
we got tew the Chilkoot. 'Owever, we got

FROM LONDON TO KLONDYKE 69
over the steep, I doan' rightly know how ; every
cent we 'ad earnt wuz spent in sledges, an'
sail, an' dawgs, an bisket, an' moose, an' tackle,
an' we should 'ave stayed thar an' petered out
an' been fruz into human icebergs only it wos
not our turn.
It was bad enough to the foot of the summit,
snow ivvrywhar — without w'ich, in fac', we
should hev hed not no chanst at all, fur, of
course, we wuz trailin' on sledges, an' with
dawgs. We 'ad to draw all our tackle over
the snow, an' now it was a-thawin', for it was
towards the end of April. The thaw was
fearful, an' the blizzard, an' the wet, an' slush,
an' sleet, an' blarsted drizzle !
'Owever, we went on, 'cos we knowed we
mus' git through on the snow, fur to draw our
necessaries over the bare ground would be on-
possible ; so we went, an' the dawgs begins a-
sniffin' an' a-whinin', an' soon we comes to a
most 'orrible sight ! It was a dead man —
corrupt. 'E 'ad bin fruz to death, an' now in
the thaw his corpse was corruptin' accordin'
to Nature.
Wal, we stopped nigh by that fearful
sickenin' horror. My pard's face was drord,
an' 'is eyes holler, an' I reckons 'e kalkilated 'e
woul' be a dyin' man 'isself soon, fur 'e turns
'is back an' couldn't chew 'is quid. No. 'Ow-

70 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
ever, 'e puts 'is shoulder to the sleigh, an' we
travels on.
Even the dawgs was frightened, but we
went on tho' our feet was leaf to drop.
W'en we anchors for the night, an' pitches
our tent, an' makes a fire, rh — the cold o' that
night at the foot o' the steep ! The thaw below
us, the hice and the snow towerin' above us,
an' the blindin' blizzard!
We was there three days under our tent,
an' nivver moved, an' my pard ses : " Wal, any
how, that is kivered up now."
So I ses : " Wot is kivered ? "
An' he ses : " Ah ! The snow hes kivered
up that thar ! " an' he shudders.
Wal, then, when the blizzard was done we
went on. We 'ad to scale the summit o' the
Chilkoot. I think the three clays' rest we 'ad
made us a bit stronger, but we hed to port
every think up. It was too steep for the dawgs
to use the sleighs. 'Owever we did it is a
licker to me to this day.
There's a bit o' shelter at the top, a kind
of second summit, an' as we turns roun' a rock
— Gawd 'ave mercy upon us ! there wuz a
dreadful thing ! Death in the snow. Ther
was a whole camp fruz — there wuz nine
men fruz into statues of hice, an' the snow
heapt up a-top of 'em. They wuz all dead,

FROM LONDON TO KLONDYKE 71
only ther dawgs — the dawgs, sum of 'em, was
alive. Only, horror! — but I cayn't tell you ov it
excep' I shivers — the dawgs, for food, 'ad
worrited the frozen dead !
Thar was one man a-settin' down near wot
'ad bin a fire, an' a woman leanin' agin 'im
fruz dead ; there 'ad bin a tent, but the storm
'ad blown it away ; there wuz siveral snow
'eaps a-lyin' roun' about. Altogether there wuz
nine — all dead! All fruz, an' stiff, like men
cut in sparkling stone.
But the dawgs 'ad made the horror of it a
more loathsome sight than I can tell. It wuz
gruesome ! It made me right sick.
Wal, there was two sledges w'ich we couldn't
go for to overhaul then. But pard, 'e gives a
great sware, an' he ses : " Sakes ! is our secret
out, matey ? There's picks an' shovels in them
sleighs, an' these nine dead men is miners.
D'ye hear — miners ! "
For all the horror of the deaths, the idea
that they 'ad been arter our gold took the
horror away, but pard, 'e ses : " Let's harness
up the dawgs, an' take their sledge along of us ;
it will compensate us for what we've 'ad to
leave behind." So we harnesses the dawgs, an'
on we goes forrud.
It was the most difficultest tarsk we ivver

72 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
done in our lives goin' up the Chilkoot summit.
I ain't told you — I cayn't tell all the fearful days;
the rotten ice, the squelch, the 'unger, the
'ardships, the privations — food we 'ad with us,
but under canvas, an' we too dawg-tired to
unpack an' rig up the stove an' cook it, 'cos
part of the stove'd bin an' lorst itself through
thawin' the ice, an' so slipped through — an' we
wos that fatigued with drorin' our sleigh —
collar-work for days, it wos — the dawgs done
up. An' my pard, stiff with rheumatics, a-losin'
of his grit, made me lose mine, 'cos w'en 'e
ses: "Shoot me, Jim, I'd like to die!" I
knowed 'is mind was wanderin'. I was that
depressed myself — the etarnal blue of the snow
ivvrywhar, 'cos blue et was through our
spectacles. An' then bein' short of fodder for
the dawgs, an' the climbin', the carryin', the
lifting, an' portage up them etarnal heights of
hice, an' the abandoning of necessaries, wot we
couldn't lift nohow an' yit couldn't do without —
things we 'ad worked our passage acrors the
seas to buy — it broke our 'earts. We wus
bankrup' — body and soul.
Thet was our condition w'en we reached the
Chilkoot summit, an' went acrors the plain
whar the frozen camp was, an' all them stiff
'uns. But, hevin' got thar, it put grit into me,
an' so it did to my pard, for he ses : " Let's 'ave

FROM LONDON TO KLONDYKE 73
a long drain o' whiskey," 'e says, "an' go on
for another spell ontil we drop. Let's get
away from these dead 'uns. The wind 'ere is
like razors."
So we each 'ad a stiff dose of whiskey. It
seemed to liven us, an', w'en we went on,
arter a bit, thar was a slope, an' the drorin' was
more easy, an' we could leave it to the dawgs.
An' soon the slope became a steep, and almost
afore we knowed it, we wos a-tobogganing
down. We wos goin' thru the snow like
lightnin', the wind rushin' in our ears, we
holdin' on to our sledges, w'ich went down like
shot, an' we scudding down like a house o'
fire, dropping down, shooting down, through
the frozen snow. It took us a few minutes to
reach the bottom ; it 'ad taken us a week to git
up the same height t'other side.
We picks ourselves up breathless. The
other sledges, too — they came all of a heap.
We wos thru the Chilkoot! Thar was sum
narsty road yit — 'undreds of miles of it — but
we 'ad got thru the wust of it. We 'ad got
thru the Chilkoot, so we pitched our camp,
chucked some fodder to the dawgs, chewed a
bit o' raw moose, 'cos we'd got no wood for
lightin' the stove, and thar we set a-shiverin'
till we slep'.
In the mornin' I thought my pard was goin'

74 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
to die, 'e was that ill, an' 'e would 'ave bin a
stiff 'un, but we wuz picked up by a party of
prospectors and miners who ketched us up an'
wuz goin' our way, an' well-equipped they
wuz. We wuz surprised to find miners goin' up
thar, an' the Colonel, ill though he was,
whispers to me : " Mum's the word about our
find." But it turns out sum scientific chap —
a gologist — 'ad bin out near by that way even
afore we was, as the Dominion Gov'ment 'ad
sent 'im, an' 'e 'ad reported fav'rable. It was
'im wot gave 'is nyme to Dawson City.
This lot wot ketched us up at the foot of
the Chilkoot was off to Forty Mile Creek, whar
gold had been already found consid'rable
whilst we wuz away in Europe, an' the news
of that 'ad spread, an' they telled us that
miners wuz a-flockin' thar. So we was a-gittin'
warm, as pard ses to me. Still our find was
many a long way from theirn.
Long afore this we 'ad got our claim
agreed by Gov'ment, so, in a way, it didn't
matter to us ef our secret wos out ; still, our
gyme wos tew keep our find dark if so we
could, an', as a fac', we did not blow the gaff to
our new mytes wot ketched us up at the foot of
the Chilkoot, but kep' it strict to ourselves.
Pard petered on an' didn't peg out, but with

FROM LONDON TO KLONDYKE 75
the kind treatment he got from our new pals
got better in a wonderful short time, an' soon
was strong as ivver.
As fur all the story of our journey to
Dawson City, I reckon it would fill a book —
crorsin' frozen lakes on our sleighs, with sails
rigged up out of the tarpaulin, boat building —
fur we 'ad to turn to an' build our own boat to
crors Lake Bennett — more frorst, more hice,
more snow, but still with our new chums it was
quite a different thing from the 'ardships we
'ad gone thru.
We 'ad a long palaver with some Injuns
near Tagish Houses — w'ich is a very sacred
place to the Redskins, and very sullent they
was. We 'ad quite a day's spree, shootin'
jack-snipe an' swans on Lake Marsh, so we
got plenty of fresh eatin', w'ich did pard a lot o'
good, but more especially the Spring, w'ich now
was showin' green, an' the sun gettin' warm.
We passed Mud Lake and down the Lewes
River, snow-capped mountains still all around
us, but vegetation close to, and Spring —
bewtiful Spring ! — mykin' our 'arts glad, an' the
mosquitos beginnin'. Then thar wos the
canyon! We 'ad to shoot that, an' likewise
White Horse Rapids, an' so to Lake Lebarge.
The weather by now hed got simply sweet, an'
our camp on the Koolalinqua was a dream.

76 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
We went through a lot of rapids, an' the Big
an' Little Salmon Rivers, Five-Finger Rapids,
Rush Rapids, Rink Rapids, and all the boilin'
water churnin' roun' the boat and all. They
air pretty dangerous to shoot. Yew jis' shuts
yeur eyes an' go ; the boat whizzles down ; the
rocks fly by ; it's hit or miss, it's life or death,
I tell yew. Them rapids is like soapsuds for
frorth, an' they air like greased lightnin' fur
speed,, an' when yew gits thru, yew takes
a long breath. Yew du so. Yew thank
Gawd. Sech fun as that to be 'ad ! — an' me for
years content to be a bloomin' packer in St
Paul's Church'ard !
Wal, we gits on to the Yukon, an' passes
the Stewart River, an' comes to Selkirk, whar
we was known, an' pardner nudges me, an'
whispers : " Mum is the word."
Because, mind yer, we was now beginnin'
to see signs of mining. We met parties of 'em
at work. We sees supplies a-bein' took up.
We 'ears talk of payin' placers in the creeks
and gulches of the Stewart, an' we 'eard of
a Jew, Solomon Davis, wot 'ad opened a bank
at Dawson City.
'Owiver, we goes on, and passes Klondyke
River, and pardner gives me a nudge, but not
a soul spoke, and nary a soul in the whole

FROM LONDON TO KLONDYKE 77
party took no notice not at all, and not a
mother's son of 'em guessed what we knowed,
that thar the great solid bed of gold was — and
is now, a quarry of it.
But we goes right by the Klondyke, the
purspecting party wot 'ad ketched us up at the
foot of the Chilkoot bein' bound for Forty Mile
Creek, whar sum of 'em had been afore, an'
was talkin' of wot they 'ad found, but it was
nuthink like ourn.
Wal, we 'ad our las' camp together, us an'
the purspecting party, in a pretty little island
whar we camped, 'cos we thought p'raps we
should be out o' the way of mosquitos in mid
stream. Everybody was all excitement, 'cos
we was nearing gold. Our boats was all
moored close togither, an' we 'ad a game of
poker afore turnin' in — 'cos now we didn't
care one dump ef we was cleaned out of our
las' cent. We knowed whar we could git some
nuggets to trade with anyway. Pard an' I did
a waltz afore turnin' in. We wuz as merry as
flies. It'd taken us four year to get to Europe
an' back — four wasted years. Now we wuz
back in the land of gold, we was close handy
to our own claim, whar we know'd the solid
coarse stuff was. We wuz on the eve of bein'
rich, an' we knowed it.
W'en mornin' come, the others was in sich

78 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
a hurry to git to Forty Mile Creek that they
got on, an' we wuz jis' left whar we wanted to
be, close to the Klondyke.
Wal, to conclood, the funniest thing occurs.
I was very 'appy a-whistlin', puttin' all our
stores in purfick order, cussin' the mosquitos,
an' enjoyin' of the sun, thinkin' jis' a wee bit of
Sally, who 'ad jilted me for Bill Ogg — bad luck
to her ! Oppysite, ther wos three log cabins on
the hother bank, an' pard ses to me : " Jim, let's
see ef we kin buy a sack or two ov flour — thet
we kin take along."
So I went to one cabin, an' pard, 'e goes
to the other, but they wuz both empty. So I
knocks at the middle one, an' I ses: " Du
anybody live h'yar ? "
An ugly old woman comes a-scowlin' out,
an' she ses : " I du," she ses.
"Yeur name?" ses I.
"I am the Widow Jay," ses she, "at least
I 'ope an' trust so — ef not, bad scran to
the masther!" she ses, bein' as Irish as a
pig- "Oh," I ses, "my pardners name is Jay.
Colonel Silas Jay. He's a-comin' along. This
is'im." As soon as she 'ears me an' sees 'im, she
ketches 'old of a wooden spoon orf the table,
an', as soon as 'e sees her, 'e takes to 'is feet an'

FROM LONDON TO KLONDYKE 79
'e runs to the boat at the top of 'is speed, she
a-follerin' after.
She follers 'im an' jumps into «the boat, an'
she ketches 'im by the collar, an' she pastes in
to 'im proper with ur wooden spoon, all the
time a-slangin' of 'im in an Irish brogue, clack-
clack-clack, like a mill-wheel. It wayn't no
sham pasting she giv' 'im neither. She let 'im
'ave it, she did. She pelted into him. She
giv' it 'im 'ot.
Now, du yew think we could git that thar
widow to git out an' quit? Not by no manner
of means. She wayn't no widow, she was my
pard's own lawful missus. My pardner 'ad
giv' her the slip four year ago, but she stuck to
'im now, an' she wouldn't leave — she wouldn't
quit nohow. So we hed to take her along to
our diggin's.
But lor ! the conversytion !
No wonder them two cabins each side of
'er was empty ! Nobody couldn't bear bein'
anigh 'er. 'Er temper was just sour milk.
Anyway, sometimes it was sour milk ontil she
got narsty, an' then it was K. N. Pepper.
Still she made a good third, did Mrs Jay.
She jis' bossed the Klondyke. She did so.

CHAPTER AN EXTRJ.
SIXTH ORDINARY WOMAN
JAY and Piatt, who constituted the firm
afterwards so celebrated in the history of
the Klondyke boom, were not now set on
actual mining. They had no machinery, not
even a jigger or a buddle ; nothing to crush ore
with, nor appliances with which to sink a shaft.
Although they had struck a rich lode in the
quartz where the "coarse stuff" was, and had
established their right to a large claim whence
ore of extraordinary quality could eventually be
taken, they had for a time to be satisfied with
washing the rich auriferous drift in a gulch on
the Klondyke — the gulch now so well known
as " Bowleg's Gulch."
Mrs Jay — ill though her temper was —
assisted the two adventurers materially.
Whilst they were cutting logs, she was not
above helping to carry them. She worked as
hard as any man when she chose, and it was
80

AN EXTRAORDINARY WOMAN 81
not long before a cabin was built, the "cut"
dug, sluice-ways formed, and " tailings " all in
order for working the alluvial. Nor was it
any slight advantage to the two men to be re
lieved of the trouble of preparing and cooking
their food, a duty which Mrs Jay performed
admirably. Whilst the two men were digging they be
came aware that a tribe of Indians had their
eyes upon them. The news of the discovery
of gold had spread amongst the Redskins, and
a whole tribe of the Dog Ribbed Indians, who
had roved and hunted, as their ancestors for
untold generations had done before, throughout
the wild and inclement desert on either side of
those branches of the Rocky Mountain range
which extend into the North-West Territory of
Canada, and who had been almost undisturbed
for centuries in their bleak and inhospitable
country, now came to gaze at the dreaded Pale
faces. Canadian trappers and hunters and
traders they knew ; men who, like themselves,
cleared the deer, the fox, and the bear ; men
who, like themselves, traded in skins and sold
them fire-water. Brethren of the chase were
these, though pale their faces. But who were
these strange men now coming from the South,
who dug in the earth, who were settling on
many of their erst secluded rivers and creeks,
F

82 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
making dams like beavers, and fouling the
streams which their salmon loved to spawn in ?
It was not with calm eyes that they watched
the diggers and the placers. Angry words
spread in secret from tribe to tribe, and soft
footsteps followed the Palefaces even to the
doors of the cabins where the diggers sat or
slept beside their cabin fires.
The Paleface has long ceased to fear the
Indian, or to regard him even as a foe. The
fight has supposed to have gone out of the
once brave itinerant aborigine. The race has
become degenerate, and the surviving tribes
are regarded as effete and harmless, except for
their thieving. Doubtless, the advance of
"civilisation," encroaching year by year upon
the few tribes still left in these remote and ice
bound domains, tends to humiliate and debase
even the nobler remnants of the Indian brave.
Throughout the United States no red men
are left but "skunks," degraded by whiskey,
cheated, kicked, and "potted" by the superior
race which surely and swiftly is driving them
to utter extinction. But in the extreme and
desolate regions of North-West. Canada, the
Hare Indians, the Dog Ribs, the Copper
Indians, the Taismians, and still further north,
within the Arctic Circle, on the shores of the
Arctic Ocean, the Esquimaux Indians have,

AN EXTRAORDINARY WOMAN 83
until this year of grace, remained. Degraded
these are, too, in comparison with their proud
and independent ancestors, for fire-water — that
irresistible foe which is to them a deadly poison
— ravages and decimates them. Yet, till now,
these Northern tribes have retained more than
a spark of their ancient courage and dignity,
and all the astuteness, the cunning, the stealth,
which centuries of experience as trappers, and
fishermen, and hunters in a region kept as a
preserve by Nature for wild beasts and birds
has imparted to them. Is the discovery of
gold to wipe out these lingering survivals of a
great race also, even as their brethren of the
South have vanished, even as the buffalo on
which they fed ?
No such thought occured to J. T. Piatt.
All he knew was that a tribe of dirty gipsies, as
he called them (with more correctness, perhaps,
than the reader will be disposed to admit),
were outside the cabin one morning when he
turned out rather earlier than usual, and that
they forthwith began, with many elaborate
salaams, to offer skins for whiskey, and, upon
refusal of that, to beg.
Their voices brought out Colonel Jay, who
swore at them roundly and told them to
begone, and soon Mrs Jay peered out,
unkempt and with arms akimbo, storming

84 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
them, to whom the Indians made effusive and
abject bows, and shyly held out their hands for
bread. An altercation then commenced, and eventu
ally, a happy thought occurring to Mrs Jay, she
offered them work at the sluices. If they
chose to " take off their petticoats " and work,
they should have whiskey, tea, flour, and a
dollar a day a head. Mrs Jay had the thrift of
several years put by, and, as her husband and
Piatt, in digging the cut, had already come
across several sizeable nuggets, she, although
originally sceptical and scornful, had caught
the gold fever, and was prepared to stake her
all in the venture.
This idea of Mrs Jay's was warmly backed
up by the two partners — the two other partners,
one might call them, as Mrs Jay had at once
established herself as the head of the firm, and
Piatt was even more afraid of her than her
husband was — if that were possible. Indians
will fish, hunt, trap, or even trade, but work
they will not, so the negotiations fell through,
although the whole tribe still loitered near the
cabin. So Jay and Piatt set to for their early
morning spell. They had already dug the
" cut," and were beginning to wash. There
was plenty of water, and they had a wonderful

AN EXTRAORDINARY WOMAN 85
find before breakfast — three large nuggets, and
a number of smaller ones close together, almost
"conglomerate." The Indians saw what was
going on, and were holding a high palaver.
" We shall have trouble with them skunks
if we don't take care," said Colonel Jay, when
he went into breakfast, and he loaded his
rifle. They talked to "the missus" of their find,
and the three big nuggets were placed upon the
table. They lay there like golden fruit. Mrs
Jay got quite excited, handling them fondly,
weighing them in the palm of her hand,
appraising their value, and expressing her fear
lest they should be lost or stolen. As soon as
breakfast was done, the two men wanted to put
them in their pockets whilst they went out to
work, but Mrs Jay secured them, scolding her
husband, and hiding them away by dropping
them in a pot of pickled onions. They had
not been at work long before Mrs Jay came
out and joined them. It was exhilarating
work, and they were all so gay over it, for they
continued to have truly wonderful success, that
peace reigned all the morning. About an
hour before noon, Mrs Jay went back to the
cabin to get dinner ready, and Jay whispered
to Piatt that it was "wonderful what a change
had come over the missus." To which Piatt

86 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
replied, with unconscious cockneyism of tone,
that she was " A derned useful partner — no
mistyke ! Grub and gold ain't no or'nery luck.
This gyme du give yew a happitite, derned ef
et don't ! "
They went on washing, but with many
an exclamation. " Stri' me, Colonel ! Look
y ere !
"Gosh! Thet's nothing. Now, that's what
I call a nugget, Jim," and a lump as big as a
potato was held up.
It was sunny, too, and they were merry as
crickets. The sluice they had rigged up
consisted of a series of troughs made of rough
boards on trestles, placed at a very slight slope
for having abundance of water — they had
intercepted a spring — they were able to wash
the dirt very effectually ; indeed, Colonel Jay,
being a miner of experience, had fixed a false
bottom with perforations and cross riffles in the
sluice, and a good deal of small dust was thus
collected. He could not expect that such
nuggets as they had found early in the morning
would occur often. Piatt was singing and
chirruping like a London sparrow, and the
Colonel kept saying dry things, full of that
sub-acid humour which all Americans seem
to have ready on occasion, but they rarely
interrupted their laborious work, even when

AN EXTRAORDINARY WOMAN 87
roaring with laughter. They were now
engaged in throwing the wash dirt into the
sluice, and their backs ached. Jay had to stop
to stretch himself straight, when he saw on
the bank beside the " cut " the whole tribe of
Indians, silently watching their every move
ment. " You derned skunks ! " shouted Jay. " You
jis' clar ! D'ye hear. Git ! " and throwing
down his shovel, he shook his fist at them.
They shrank back a few paces, and in half a
minute Jay looked up again : they were closer
than ever.
" Now, you listen to me," said Colonel Jay,
with that quiet deliberation which is never to
be trifled with. " I hev' my Derringer here.
If you don't quit, I'll shoot."
He stood looking at them with a calm gleam
in his eye that they deemed dangerous. Slowly
they shrunk back and moved away. In the
distance behind was Mrs Jay at the cabin door.
Hearing her husband's shout, she had left the
pudding she was engaged in making, and came
out to look around.
She realised the situation at once, and stood
for some time watching. Now and then Jay,
who felt the spell of her eye, looked up and
glanced at her.
" Things air changing, Jim," he said in an

88 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
undertone. "I'm shouting, and the missus is
silent. I didn't use to dare to speak."
" She ain't speakin', Colonel," said Piatt, "but
ain't she a-scowlin' ! Oh no ! " and he grinned.
They went on shovelling the wash dirt into
the sluice. Piatt picked up another nugget, the
size of a small bean, which rang against his
spade. The Colonel, who had not had a " find "
for half an hour, slogged away jealously into
" the material " harder than ever.
Then they both looked up, for they heard a
cry. The Indians had again advanced, and
the Colonel, drawing his Derringer, sprang up
the bank, Piatt following.
But the Indians were taken in rear. "The
missus " had not been watching in vain. See
ing the obtrusive strangers again advancing
towards the sluice, she had bounded out from
the cabin, and catching the tallest of the braves
by his ear, she was administering to him a
sound drudging with a rolling-pin. It was his
cry that the miners had- heard, and now he lay
still on the ground, stunned by her blows, but
she had another by his throat, and was be
labouring him without mercy. With a sudden
wrench he escaped, leaving his blanket in her
left hand, and all the troop took to their heels,
but she was after them, and had yet another
victim before they were in full flight. All the

AN EXTRAORDINARY WOMAN 89
while she was wielding the rolling-pin her
tongue was abusing them roundly. She ran
after them for a long way, whilst they fled
before her like chaff before the wind, and when
no longer able to follow, stood shaking her fist
and shrieking threats upon them. As long as
they remained within earshot she stood with
her hair flying, flourishing her arms, rating
them in her high, strident voice, and calling
them all the vermin and skunks, and all the
fusty names in her voluminous Irish" vocabulary.
Walking back, though they were out of sight,
she stopped frequently to howl more curses
upon them, and when her husband and Piatt
appeared at the cabin door, for it was about
dinner-time, she turned her objurgations upon
them, calling them a couple of curs to let a few
skunks of Injuns hang about them whilst at
work, so that whatever was found could be seen.
Once excited, her nagging tongue never stopped,
although the two men praised her openly for
her defence of the camp. Indeed, they were
in such excellent spirits that her incessant
torrent of abuse for once afforded them amuse
ment rather than annoyance, and they were
truly and heartily grateful to her, for, as more
than a week passed without the reappearance
of the Indians, it seemed probable that they
would give no more trouble.

9o TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
So the two partners continued to work. All
that they wanted was paid labour to become
really and speedily rich. They took out so
much gold in actual nuggets, that the missus
was at her wits' end to know how she could
securely hide them away. Many loose char
acters were about, and there was danger that
they might be attacked and plundered at any
time, so their rifles were always kept loaded.
There was not any one place sufficiently safe
in Mrs Jay's opinion where she could stow the
swag ; she hid it, therefore, covertly in various
pans and baskets, and Silas and Jim would
occasionally find their nuggets a second time
at the bottom of a bowl of fresh eggs, or in the
corner of a biscuit tin, the laughter which
saluted these re-discoveries bringing down upon
them a volume of vituperation, accompanied
sometimes by the sound blows of the termagant's
toasting-fork, or such other culinary weapon as
she had in hand, her favourite being a heavy
iron spoon.
This was a weapon for which she had other
uses. On the cleaning-up days Mrs Jay would
take her place at the sluice, and the two men
would lazy for a few hours, and loll by the
edge of the cut, smoking in the sun to keep off
the mosquitoes, or perhaps go into the woods
in search of game. The missus was then

AN EXTRAORDINARY WOMAN 91
accustomed to take up the riffle bars in the
sluice, and scoop up the gold dust with her
spoon. This she placed in a pan, and, subject
ing it to a thorough washing, separated all the
gold which she carefully stored in some odd
hiding-place. Everything now went so smoothly that all
they wanted was more labour, which could
nowhere be obtained, and Mrs Jay repented
that she had so effectually driven the Indians
away. " But I'll find such skulking vagabonds as
thim ! " she exclaimed, with a flourish of her
spoon. " Shure they'll be loiterin' about where
the gold is — bad scran to 'em! — smokin' an'
dozin' away their lives — the thieves. Faix ! is
it our work they mean to fatten by intoirely,
the stealin', slippery blayguards ! I'll make 'em
work. You lave it to me meself. You lave
it to Biddy Jay — bad luck to her name ! "
The idea of Indians working was too much
for Silas, and he laughed his scorn.
But this extraordinary woman effected that
miracle. They were not difficult to find, but
they were shy, and shy especially of Mrs Jay.
However, with the aid of whiskey they became
more approachable, and eventually they suc
cumbed. To the surprise of the two miners
she led a whole dozen of them one morning

92 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
into the cut to the sluices, and set them to work,
under a contract with their chief, one Leather-
tongue, at a dollar a day, and a glass of whiskey
each if they worked well.
Mrs Jay herself superintended them with a
loaded gun, and she watched them very closely
indeed, not forgetting to search every man of
them at the end of each day's work — for they
are adept pilferers, and it is not difficult to
hide a nugget.
Well watched though they were, no doubt,
they did thieve, but the general average of
their yield was a gauge of their honesty, and
their work showed results which paid our
adventurers well.
Jim and Silas working in their midst, or
behind them, had them in view, and the missus
in front, had her sharp eye upon them continu
ally. Still thefts occurred under their very eyes.
Almost every man of them had been dis
covered in the act of theft one day, and the
yield was much below the average.
Before they were allowed to go into camp
for the night, Colonel Jay summoned the men.
He did not waste words. With the assistance
of his wife and partner, he searched each man
thoroughly, one by one. Quite a haul of gold
was the result ; it was secreted about them
everywhere.

AN EXTRAORDINARY WOMAN 93
Then the Colonel spoke, with a freedom
from the Yankee colloquialisms into which he
dropped when talking with Piatt — for he was
an educated man, and when in his serious
moods spoke correct English.
" Leathertongue, chief of the Dog Ribs, and
you Blackhand, his son, and you also, Indians,
my brothers, it is the law amongst white men
in all parts of the world where they flock to
find gold, that if any man be discovered in the
act of theft, he is forthwith hung to the nearest
tree. The next man who steals I shall hang."
Before noon the next day a wretched man
was discovered secreting gold in his mocassins.
For days afterwards his body dangled from a
solitary pine which overlooked the gulch.
That was how the first pioneers on the
Klondyke dealt with the labour difficulty.

CHAPTER J RAID ON
SEVENTH the qoLTi
" T'VE a dhrop of the rebel in me meself, for
I'm Irish to the core, an' a soft heart for
all rebels. It's meself I'm tarkin' of, Jim
Piatt, but divil a bit of the rebel have them
skunks of Injuns in ahl their tarnation skins at
all ! Ochone ! They want a firm shtr-r-r-r-ong
hand to make thim work, the lazy divils ! an'
thin they're all asleep intoirely. Get up, you
spalpeens ! it's afther sunrise ; an' if I catch ony
ave ye thieving I'll shtring ye up, for it's me
cord I have ready. Oh yis, an' yis, an' yis.
It's Mrs Jay a-tarkin' to ye — bad luck to her
for changing her name from Biddy O'Grady ! "
It was a lovely morning, and the bright, clear
air was full of scent of pine. The brown rocks
of the hills showed every tuft of grass, and
every scar and stain of moss or lichen a mile
away. The muddy waters of the Klondyke
River looked bright and blue in the dancing
sunshine, but there was a crisp, autumnal
94

A RAID ON THE GOLD

95

sharpness in the smell of the morning that
boded the approach of the long, long winter.
The Indians, roused from their slumber, got
up lazily and stretched themselves.
"Begorra! It's the precious toime I'm
thinkin' av intoirely, an' not thim lazy skunks,
at ahl, at ahl ! " said Mrs Jay to her husband,
whose grizzled head now peered out of the
cabin. " Och, ye bag-o'-bones ! You only jis'
up, an' here it is the middle o' the mornin'.
There's Jim a-settin av ye an example, washin'
in the sluices this hour or more, more shame to
ye, Silas Jay ! Ye can smell the winter in the
cowld air, Silas — ye varmint ! — this marnin', an'
it's carryin' the gould safe into Selkirk I'm
thinkin' av, ye sleepy-eyed ould blackguard !
Faix, would ye lave it hid here all the winter
among these thievin' Injuns — the dirty vaga
bonds! — an' have all our labour stole, begorra?"
Colonel Silas Jay seemed to be of the same
mind as his wife. No doubt the winter was
approaching fast, and it would be well to carry
in to store all the dust and nuggets they had
already taken. The gang of Indians whose
labour they had hired had been suspiciously
docile of late, and their patience under Mrs
Jay's vituperous tongue and scathing blows was
in itself suggestive and threatening. Their
conduct of late had been too perfect, their work

96 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
exemplary, and the silent disappearance of one
of their number was inexplicable.
They were in doubt what to do. They had
got out a lot of gold. Early and late had they
worked all through the spring and summer,
and the tribe of Indians whom they had
employed had enabled them to put thousands
of cubic yards of dirt through the sluice, so
that their takings were heavy. Jim Piatt had
been over to Dawson City — which was increas
ing marvellously day by day ; houses, stores,
and caches were springing up like mushrooms —
but the price the Jews were offering for pure
dust and bullion nuggets was absurd. There
was a store at Selkirk where a better price
could be obtained, or there was the alternative
of going right away to Seattle, 2640 miles
distant, which involved the voyage down the
whole length of the Yukon River to St
Michael's, and then the sea voyage across
Behring Sea and along the coast of Alaska into
Washington State.. Long though that voyage
was, it was safe and easy, but it involved their
being away from Klondyke during the winter,
and that was not their plan. Jay and Piatt had
come to stay.
The two men discussed the position as they
worked together, at the cut. They had recently
noticed the strangely good conduct of their

A RAID ON THE GOLD 97
Indian labourers, and they entertained sus
picions of them. When Silas went off to
breakfast he winked at Piatt, and, burying a
very large nugget in the pay dirt where he had
been working, beckoned to Leathertongue.
The Indian chief came up salaaming.
" Now look hyah, see you," said Silas, " we
air going to breakfast. Just take along and
shovel up this dirt ; there ain't likely to be
much in it excep' a little fine dust, but just put
it in the pan an' wash it through, an' then you
go to your breakfast — only wash this first, mind
yew." "They can't miss that nugget, Jim," said
Silas Jay, going off with his arm on his partner's.
" They must come to it, an' they must know
they can steal it easy. No Injun could resist
stealing a nugget like that. If they hand it
over it means something ugly ; it means they
intend having not that nugget only, but all the
gold we've took. It means that Saginaw — the
cove who deserted Thursday — has gone to
bring a score of others to raid our camp. Don't
let on to the missus."
They went in to the cabin and breakfasted.
They had coffee, salmon, onions, excellent
bread, an omelette — Mrs Jay had a poultry-
yard behind the cabin — and some small sour
apples. G

g8 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
Silas talked about moving the gold, and
said all the hidden nuggets would have to be
got together soon. Then the two men lit their
pipes, swore at the mosquitoes, which are a
perfect pest on the Klondyke, and went back
to the cut.
" I thought so," said Silas. " Look at that
sneaking skunk, Leathertongue ! There will
be some ugly business soon."
The Indian chief was approaching, his teeth,
dyed black, all smiles. He bore himself
with accustomed dignity, holding in his hand
the large nugget — the same one that Silas put
there — and some smaller ones besides, newly
discovered. "All from one pan, great master! Big fader
lump — little children lumps — much gold lumps,"
and he bowed obsequiously, and kissed the
Colonel's hand.
"Ah! honest Injun," said Colonel Jay, al
though, prepared as he was, he couldn't conceal
the sarcasm of his inflection. "Go to break
fast, my good Leathertongue. Most worthy
Leathertongue ! Most honest Leathertongue ! "
Then, turning to his partner, he continued :
" What did I tell you, Jim ? Now, if he had
stuck to that nugget I'd have forgiven him.
He looked real nice, and bland, and guileless,
didn't he ? The sly rogue. Ah ! you can bet

A RAID ON THE GOLD

99

your bottom dollar they mean raiding us ; they
mean having every speck of gold we've laboured
for and paid them for getting. It's our lives
we shall have to look out for as well as our
gold" "Wal, Colonel, I guess we'd better clar.
Let's make tracks right away for Dawson's.
Though we shan't get the half of what our stuff
is worth from that derned old Jew, Solomon
Davis, we kin convert it into paper and bank it
safe away."
" An' we can soon get thar."
"And back, Colonel."
"And back, Jim, as you say. There's all
winter to come, an' though old Solomon won't
give us half the worth of our takings, we shall
soon be back taking out more. Eh ? "
"We air both of one idee, pardner. Wal,
thar's my shovel. We needn't lose not a
derned minit — nary a one ! Let's pack up."
"And let's load up, too, Jim. I'll tell the
missus. We'll jis' pack up the bullion and
treck, as we used to say in Buluwayo."
*v Quietly, and without any fuss or trouble,
Colonel Jay and his wife brought out the
golden harvest. It had already been carefully
sewn up in sizeable parcels covered with
blanket. Some contained fine gold dust only,
other parcels consisted of rough lumps like

too TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
sifted gravel, and the nuggets were sewn up
in a sack, corded several times across, and then
covered again with skins. All these were now
placed in blankets and tarpaulin, and large
bundles were made up, each of about the weight
that a man could conveniently carry. As soon
as these were packed they were piled up to
gether outside the cabin, and. Mrs Jay herself
sat on the top of the heap with a loaded rifle
over her shoulder.
The Indians, who were unaware of the
sudden intended departure of their masters,
were still at work at the sluices, and the bottom
and riffles had not been taken out for some days.
Jay and Piatt, each with an empty jar in one
hand, and a spoon in the other, went down to
spend an hour or two in clearing up. After that
they would go without delay. Mrs Jay was not
to get a regular meal for them. They would
have biscuit and milk, and they would lose
no time any way. There was possible danger
in the air, and it was not far to Dawson City.
They took the perforated bottom out of the
sluices, and scooped up and washed the gold"
that had collected there. There was some in
the tailings, but they decided to chance that.
It would be there probably when they returned.
If somebody stole it — well, better lose the
tailings than the whole takings.

A RAID ON THE GOLD 101
So they came up out of the cut. At the
edge of it stood a stranger — a Jew.
" Another lot of ye here, eh ? Holy Moses !
What a lod of gold there is about this Yukon
River!" said the Jew, looking up and down the
gulch. The Indians looked up at the sound
of his voice, but took no notice of the intruder.
"Who air you?" cried Jim Piatt, with one
hand on his Derringer.
The Yank said nothing but he drew his.
" Pud 'em down, gents — pud 'em down ! I
hevn't got so much as a pop- gun od my whole
d'body. Nod a weapon of any sort, so help me,
Moses ! I'm ath harmless as a babe ! "
" Stop your prating and say who you air."
" Nathan, my tear — Isaac Nathan of Selkirk.
Nobody touches I key Nathan. Vy, you couldn't
live withoud me ! I'm the best margid aboud
here ; all the diggers knows I key Nathan. You
works — veil, I banks it. Got much, eh ? Thad's
bedder; pud away the pisdols."
" Then, if yew air a banker I guess it's
welcome yew air to Bowleg's Gulch — and that's
me," said Jim Piatt, looking at his nether
limbs, which were rather bandy. "They
wouldn't stop a pig in a passage, they dew
J)
say. " But this ain't the way from Selkirk,"
interrupted Silas, suspiciously.

102 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
" Bless ye, my tear, of courthe it ain't. I
hevn't come from Selkirk. I'm lookin' round
to thee the boys. I've bin to Circle City, and
Forty Mile Creek, and Dawson's. I'm lookin'
out for bizness. Dad's all. Vy you air
clearin' to go. Got much, eh ? "
"So so."
"Vere air you goin' to tague it? Dawson
City? No! Holy Moses! Nod to Misder
Davis. He won't give you a third of wod id's
worth. Solomon Davis is the worst margid
for diggers in Alathga. Show me vod you've
got." "Well, mate, why shouldn't we deal with
this man, anyhow ? "
" Why not, Colonel, if he air honest. I
reckon we want tew git best valew for our
swag. That is our only consarn. Wot air
yeur terms, Mister Nathan ? Thet thar is our
little heap."
" Holy Moses ! "
" Yis, et's a tidy pile, Mr Nathan. An' wot
will you buy that for — hyah as it Stan's."
" No, I'm dot dealing. You brig it id to
Selkirk, an' I'll give you de best price in de
margid. I'll give you ten dollars an ounce for
pure colour — if it ain't pure it depends on
assay. Dere can't be nothin' fairer dan dat.
You tague it into Selkirk. Don't go to

i i

A RAID ON THE GOLD 103
Dawson's. You would be foolish to tague it to
Dawson's." So, with more talk of that kind, the diggers
decided they would go to Selkirk instead of to
Dawson City, and that they would start without
delay. Silas summoned Leathertongue, and
gave orders to have the picks and shovels
carried into their wigwams, which were to be
left standing. Nobody was to be left in
charge. They were to go to Selkirk right
away by forced march, and get there as soon
as possible. The Indians were to feed and be
, ready in an hour's time.
This sudden decision, and the haste with
which they were to proceed, did not suit
Leathertongue. He raised all sorts of diffi
culties, and, when it was time to start, all the
tribe were squatting round their camp fire, and
had made no progress at all towards departure.
"You stir 'em up, boss," said Silas to his
wife ; "the sooner we start — the sooner we
reach Selkirk."
It did not take Mrs Jay long to make them
stir about. She had one of them, Petchwah-
well, by his ear, and, dragging him to his feet,
slung one of the packages on to his back.
Having started him, the others were got into
line, Piatt standing in front of them all, with
two loaded rifles over his shoulder,

104 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
When all were ready to start Leathertongue
still hung back talking to Blackhand, his son.
He and his tribe had agreed to work in digging
and washing at the places, but it was not part
of their contract to port and carry sacks to
Selkirk. The statement was true, and the
argument just. Silas reasoned with him,
pointed out the necessity of carrying their
treasure before the winter set in — explained
how it was the custom with Palefaces to
exchange solid gold into a convenient symbol
by means of paper and writing — the value
remaining, and the security increasing —
although there would be. no more weight to
carry, and all would be represented by a little
document that could be put in the waistcoat
pocket, though it might be worth hundreds of
thousands of dollars. This intensely interested
Leathertongue, and much time was consumed
in explaining it to him. Still the Indian
argued that, in the eyes of his brothers, the
Palefaces, a contract was a contract, and he
appealed to the Jew on that point. The
Indians laid down their packages and gathered
round, joining in the palaver. When Leather
tongue was exhausted Blackhand renewed the
argument. Piatt looked up at the sun. Time
was fleeting.
"Yes. Well. But why so much haste?"

A RAID ON THE GOLD 105
argued Leathertongue. Besides, it was too
late to start for so long a journey so late
in the day. Better leave it till to-morrow
and start at sunrise. What did Mr Nathan
think ?
Mr Nathan thought that as there was no
contract on the part of the Indians to become
carriers, and as it would be a pity to have such
a valuable load in the hands of unwilling
porters, it would be best if one of the two
partners went to Dawson City to try and
secure some other porters.
This idea, which if followed out would have
gained two or three days to the Indians, was
warmly applauded and led to new discussion.
All this debating occupied till noon, and
Leathertongue called off his men to their
mid-day meal. This was a long affair, for
they had somehow lit the fire with green wood
and it kept going out. The afternoon was
wearing and still they had not started. Silas
began to think it would be better to give way
to the murmurs of the Indians, and arrange
to go next day at sunrise amicably ; to let
them spend the remainder of the half-wasted
day smoking and dozing before the camp fire,
in the lazy fashion that the Indian loves, and
to salve them with whiskey and tobacco.
" Tabakky ! " exclaimed -Mrs Jay, whose

106 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
patience was exhausted. " I'll give 'em
tabakky. An' you, ye blind-eyed ijiot! you
a trapper ! A foine trapper, an' ahl ! Ah, and
down't ye see the thrap they're layin' for ye
entoirely ! It's to gain toime they're wanting.
and to lose toime. Oh yis, an' yis, an' yis !
I understan' their maning — sure it's clear
enough ! And where's that dhirty, sneaking,
divil, Saginaw, if he hasn't gone to raise another
thievin' tribe to come raiding the camp,
murthering us ahl, and robbing the gowld — and
why delay at ahl, at ahl, but to wait for the
tarnation thieves ! It's playing their game we
are, Silas, you blind-eyed owl ! And as for you,
ye spalpeen — you narsty, schemin', hook-nosed
Jew ! — I down't like the looks of ye at ahl, ye
blaggard ! "
" Right you air, boss," exclaimed Piatt, ad
dressing Mrs Jay by the title she deserved.
" I was a-guessin' jis' like yew, this hyah delay's
a ruse. Git up, you Injun niggers, you schemin'
varmints ! Git up, now, an' port them skins.
Eh, what, you won't ! Wal, then, the boss and
me, we'll make you."
Laying down his two rifles Piatt unhinged
the dog-whip which he wore round his waist,
and, cracking it two or three times in the air
over Leathertongue's head, touched another of
the Indians on the flank, The Indians saw

A RAID ON THE GOLD

107

that the Palefaces were not to be trifled with
any longer, and with sullen looks and murmured
threats they shouldered the baggage which had
been assigned to them.
When the start was made the sun had al
ready sunk low, but, once under weigh, the
lethargy of the Indians was permitted no longer.
The moving of the large quantity of loose gold,
which had been secured after so much labour
and hardship, was obviously a task of difficulty
and danger. Silas and Piatt were armed to
the teeth, and Mrs Jay not only carried her
share of the load, but a rifle was slung over
her shoulder, and her waistbelt was stuck with
pistols. Leathertongue and the three other
red men went first, groaning under the weight
they were forced to carry. Then Piatt followed,
keeping his eye upon the men in front. Then
four more Redskins, including Blackhand, cap
tained by Mrs Jay. The Jew, Nathan, unarmed,
and carrying only a light burden, was also of
her party; the remaining Indians followed, and,
behind all, marched Silas, his cold grey eye
surveying the whole gang.
The track from Bowleg's Gulch involved
climbing at the very beginning of the march,
and now it was obvious that the plan of the
Indians was to separate the gang, but Silas
was on his guard against this. The word was

108 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
passed that the men were to be kept together,
and the Indians were warned that if any
attempted to break away from the rest, or to
steal off with the treasure, he would be immedi
ately shot. The Indians had been carefully
searched before starting, and had no weapons
with them. The partners knew that their
enterprise was a difficult one, and the circum
stances warranted a strict and armed oversight.
They were attempting to carry into Selkirk a
very heavy taking of the precious metal, and
even if they were not raided en route, it would
not be an easy task to prevent some of the
Indians at least from furtively making off with
the treasure they carried.
After having traversed some miles of rocky
wilderness, a halt was called, and moose-meat
was served out all round. The various packages
were examined, for a thought had occurred to
Silas that the carriers might be artful enough
to shed the contents of their burden at some
spot they might afterwards recognise, and bear
the wrappers only into Selkirk. But they had
not yet resorted to this device, and the value
of the packages remained at present intact.
The moon had risen, but it was yet low, and
after a short rest they proceeded on their way,
Jim enlivening the journey with a modern
variety of so-called comic songs, sung in a

A RAID ON THE GOLD 109
tone so doleful that a humour was thereby
imparted to them which the words themselves
lacked. They now came to forests, and although the
moon was bright, the thick growth of pine and
fir obscured the light, and they had to trust to
the Indians and follow in the darkness.
Silas was on the alert, and again ordered
a halt. For a while they proceeded in close,
single file, their line not being allowed to ex
ceed a space of four or five yards. So they
journeyed for many miles through the thick
growth. Sometimes Silas took supreme charge,
sometimes his wife or Jim Piatt. Occasion
ally one of them would go to the front, and,
standing aside in the gloom, would count all
the men as they passed some moonlit glade
in the forest.
In time, the route they were taking — there
was no path — trended suddenly down hill, the
trees were sparser, and the undergrowth more
scanty, but the moss, which grew so high that
their feet sank in it below their ankles, was
full of moisture. But for this, Silas would have
ordered a long halt for the night, yet they
plodded on, although the Indians were
beginning to show signs of fatigue.
Now the route became broken and rocky,
but the moon was by this time high above

no TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
them, and though the gang was more extended,
there was no chance of any one escaping, for
the air was clear, the night quite bright and
cloudless, and all the men could be seen for a
long distance. The turbulent waters of the
Haha River were now visible, glinting two or
three miles away in the moonlight, and the
roar of the rapids could be distinctly heard.
Silas decided to push on and cross the river
before camping for sleep, although Leather
tongue began to complain that his men would
drop through fatigue. In order to prevent
these complaints from being pressed, Piatt
hurried on with his advance gang, and a space
was also kept between the party captained by
Mrs Jay and that under Silas's immediate
control. Jay and Piatt, fortunately, knew the
route well, for the Indians made a pretence
of not knowing the ford, hoping, by this
means, to create a long delay, and the fact
of their pretending ignorance on this point,
in a country which they had scoured for
generations, was an additional proof that they
meant mischief.
However, as Leathertongue and all his tribe
assumed to have no knowledge of the ford,
which was quite an easy one, Silas permitted
them to demonstrate their falsity, then, heading
the file, he led the way across himself, and,

A RAID ON THE GOLD in
assembling them for the night, rallied them in
a good-humoured speech, telling them quite
frankly that he knew they meant treachery and
theft, but that the first man who was up to
tricks would be instantly shot.
They were now assembled on the banks of
the Haha, at a spot quite suitable for camping.
The packs of gold were stacked, and upon
them Mrs Jay quietly stretched herself at full
length for the night. A meal of dried meat and
a ration of whiskey was served. Piatt went
into the higher rocks where he could command
a view of the camp, and having flourished his
rifle, quickly went off to sleep, as had been
quietly pre-arranged, for Silas mounted guard
and kept a particularly sharp lookout till
sunrise. By noon next day they had made a forced
march of nearly thirty miles, which, considering
the nature of the ground, the heaviness of
their burdens, and the unwillingness of the
carriers, was admirable. Silas decided to have
two hours' mid-day rest. Mrs Jay guarded the
camp, sitting astride the bags of gold, whilst
Piatt and Silas slept. If the Indians thought
they could take advantage of this opportunity,
they were mistaken, for she kept her keen old
Irish eyes on every man in turn, and if any one
of them showed signs of restlessness she

ii2 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
levelled her rifle at him immediately, and
opened upon him a volume of abuse from her
inexhaustible vocabulary, which was even
more terrifying than the levelled barrel of her
gun. Again they resumed their journey. Silas,
gaping after his short sleep, left the main duty
of surveillance to his wife. They went on
with occasional brief halts till long after
nightfall, and when they eventually camped
for their night's sleep, a long distance seemed
to have been placed between them and
danger. Piatt was on guard for the night, and took
care not to sleep a wink. There seemed some
restlessness on the part of the Indians, and the
conduct of Blackhand was peculiar. He had
certainly a knife in his hand, and was moving
stealthily towards Silas. Indeed, Piatt was
sufficiently suspicious to let off his rifle — hot to
injure the Redskin, but to alarm him and arouse
his companions. Immediately the shot was
fired everybody jumped up, but it seemed to
be a false alarm, and morning dawned without
further disturbance.
By sunset of the third day they had accom
plished all but ten miles of their journey ; they
were, however, footsore and weary, and they
had the arduous task before them of threading

A RAID ON THE GOLD n3
Selkirk beach — where the loose boulders and
pebbles are fatiguing to pedestrians even when
free from burden. Our travellers, however,
were full of good spirits, for they had done
better than they expected, and the especial
danger they had feared now seemed unlikely to
happen. So they pushed on. At any rate, an ambush
was out of the question, and the peril they had
dreaded most — the peril of an attack from
armed Indians in pursuit of them — would have
now been deemed absurd, if it were not that
Leathertongue was again making desperate
efforts to cause delay. He could go no further ;
his legs would not carry him. He had a thorn
in his foot ; he was weary and past further
travel ; the burdens were beyond the power of
his men to bear. The Redskin had not the
strength of the Palefaces. A long rest was
now a necessity. The more obedient of his
tribe followed his example. They all murmured.
They laid down their packages ; they could not
or they would not move. They were deaf to
orders, deaf even to the objurgations of Mrs
Jay, whom they certainly feared more than
either of the two men ; in vain did she scold ;
in vain were promises of increased reward
held out to them ; in vain were the most terrible
threats. The men declared they were utterly
H

n4 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
done and could not resume their march until
they had rested — and there seemed some
warrant for their excuses, for the Palefaces had
to confess to themselves that they were nearly
as exhausted as the Redskins declared them
selves to be. Silas, however, was still of
opinion that Selkirk could be reached by
midnight, and in view of the immense value of
their treasure, he disliked to contemplate any
risk of it now that they were so near the goal.
Mrs Jay was convinced that the men could be
made to take it in, and after serving out the
last of the whiskey, she entreated, cajoled, and
threatened the men until their stolidity angered
her beyond endurance, and she had resort to
her whip.
But even the lash did not effect her purpose ;
budge the men would not. They whimpered
and murmured, but nothing would induce them
to move on.
Piatt gave it up altogether, and Silas sat
down on a rock begging Mrs Jay to try no
more, when the travellers had a piece of
unexpected luck.
Some strangers met them who were on their
way to Dawson City.
They were going there to make it their
headquarters. They intended to make placer
claims somewhere round about, because, if

A RAID ON THE GOLD

US

gold could be got at Forty Mile Creek, why
not elsewhere, in some of the other rivers and
streams flowing into the Yukon.
They had with them picks, pans, shovels,
and provisions for the winter, also a good lot of
stores that they meant to trade at Dawson's.
They were a firm — they were. All staunch
partners come to make money — as best they
could. Yes, that was their canoe — the Saucy
Jane. She had carried them all the way from
Lake Lebarge. They were carrying her
now — and this was Saucy Jane herself. They
were well known all the way up. They had
come through the White Pass. Everybody
knew them as the Saucy Jane boys.
And who was Jay, and the lady, and Piatt,
and the Jew, and all these Indians ? — and would
they have a drink ? — and what had they got in
all their baggage ?
Metal, eh ? — aw ! Ah ! Ammunition. Ah !
A heavy load !
So they talked — half a dozen at once and
altogether. Jay and his wife sat on the heap
of treasure, and Piatt, reclining on a rock, was
holding out his cup which one of the new
arrivals, several of whom stood around, was
filling with whiskey, Saucy Jane was seated
by Piatt, with her hand familiarly upon his
shoulder, and the two gangs, meeting so happily

116 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
in the forest, had thoroughly fraternised, when
a loud whoop sounded close in their ears,
and the crack of a rifle, followed by a regular
volley, came from the thicket. Three of the
Saucy Jane boys, who were standing about,
fell. In a second Jay was on his feet. From
three sides came loud yells and shrill cries,
mingling in a howl and a war whoop, and into
the open space dashed a whole tribe of Red
skins, firing as they advanced.
Colonel Jay's first shot killed his man.
Piatt was a sure aim, and ably seconded his
leader. They both carried repeating rifles, and
the Indians fell like flies. One of the Saucy
Jane boys, not knowing how skilful Mrs Jay
was, had seized her rifle, and was doing execu
tion with it, regardless of the abusive tongue of
the virago. An Indian, stealthier than the rest,
advanced in the shadow, and was raising his
weapon, but Mrs Jay shot him dead. The
attack had failed. The surprise was turned
into a defeat. The shrill cries ceased. The
Indians showed their backs, and the Saucy
Jane boys were after them. Pistol shots echoed
in the forest.
In the excitement Piatt and Jay followed,
using their Derringers with deadly effect.
Then they hurried back to look after the

A RAID ON THE GOLD 117
treasure, but Mrs Jay was astride it,
spreading her petticoats over it, like a
hen covering her nest. Ten paces away
the corpse of Blackhand sprawled on the
ground, his fingers clutching one of the
packages of gold. The rest of the Indians
had fled.
Explanations followed. The Saucy Jane
boys came back wondering. Raid ! Thought
I ndian raids were things of the past. Treachery !
Gold ! What ? All them thar packages gold !
Sakes ! No. Stan' away ! Poor Hiram !
Poor ole pardner ! Dead, by God ! Bullet
clean through his heart. Ah, Bunting, an' you ?
Thank Heaven not so bad. But a bad wound
through your neck, Bunting. Serious ? Should
rather think so. Ah ! Washington, my boy,
you we shall pull through. Wash it with
whiskey. Water ! bring water, mate, and a
pillow. Softly, pard — softly. How the pore
chap bleeds !
" Faix ! the divils are stealin' round agin.
I heard a footfall. Begorra ! There, Silas,"
and the woman fired in the direction of the
sound which had arrested her attention.
The boys rushed again into the darkness.
The Jew, Nathan, was disappearing in the
shade of some firs, and would have made good
his escape but Mrs Jay did not lose sight of

n8 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
him, and as she denounced him in smoking hot
Irish, Colonel Jay followed the direction of
her finger, and in a few minutes brought him
back trembling with fright, and protesting his
innocence. But the men's blood was fired. Their com
rades lay dead and dying upon the ground. It
was no time for justice or for mercy. There
was a short altercation in which the Jew's guilt
was made sufficiently clear. In a few minutes
he was hoisted to a tree, and his corpse,
dangling over the heads of the camp, swayed
to and fro in the rising wind.
All now turned their attention to the two
wounded men, one of whom was dying, choked
by the flow of blood from the wound in his
throat. Nor did he last long. In less than
an hour's time he lay white and ghastly and
almost bloodless, for the shot, which was his
death, had pierced the main artery. A hand
kerchief was thrown over his face, and his
body moved from the red pool in which he
had lain.
The third man's injury was not serious, and
after bandages had been applied, he pronounced
himself a cure, and although his wound was
more dangerous than he knew, he pooh-poohed
it as a trifle, and went about with the others,
doing what he could, until his mates prevented

A RAID ON THE GOLD 119
him, and made him lie down on a pillow of
dried moss.
Conversation eventually returned to the
carrying of the treasure into Selkirk. Colonel
Jay wanted it in without delay. It was danger
ous to life to dally with it on the way. Every
body was wide-awake after the excitement of
the fight. If the Saucy Jane boys would leave
two of their number with the wounded man,
and the rest would turn porters, they should
have a hundred dollars apiece to assist in
carrying the swag to Selkirk.
But the wounded man wouldn't be left
behind. So with little further delay they were off,
singing, shouting, laughing, and uproarious.
Saucy Jane was crying, for she had been very
fond of Hiram, and all the boys were keenly
sorry for both the lost men. Vengeance on
the whole tribe of the Dog Ribs was sworn in
many a fierce oath, and a vow was taken that
if Leathertongue were found, no matter when
or where, he should have short shrift.
They reached Selkirk before dawn, and stood
guard over the gold outside the door of the
North-West Territories Office. Isaac Nathan's
Bank was a fabrication. The Jew was un
questionably in league with the Indians, and
had led them away from Dawson's for plunder.

120 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
But they had no difficulty in finding a market
for their gold, and though the price paid was
below value, they were well satisfied, for, as a
result of their summer's labour, they had netted
no less a sum than 300,000 dollars.

CHAPTER HOW SANDY M'QUEEN
EIGHTH PAID HIS RENT
r I "'HE secret was out. The first haul of
-*- gold taken from the Klondyke was so
enormous, the nuggets were so large, and the
find so rich, that the news of the discovery
spread far and wide. In Selkirk, every man,
woman, and child in the town saw the great
pile of glittering metal with their own eyes.
For two days it was on view at a merchant's
store, but it created so much excitement that
it had to be guarded by a detachment of the
North-West Territories police. Arrangements
were then made to send it from the dealers
under a strong escort to Fort Cudahy, whence
it was transferred to a steamer and passed
down the Yukon to St Michael's. Thence it
went by the ss. Portland to Seattle, and there
again excitement raged. News of the unlimited
treasure left behind also circulated, and was
telegraphed to the ends of the earth. There
was amazement at this Arctic treasure, and at
121

122 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
the conviction that the greatest gold-fields in
the world had been found in this bleak,
inhospitable, and almost inaccessible corner of
the world. ,
From Forty Mile Creek, from Dawson's,
from Circle City, places comparatively near
to the Klondyke River, flocked those digger
pioneers, who were able to contend with the
difficulties of Arctic mining by reason of their
equipment for the work- and the climate.
From Seattle and a score of other settlements,
from camps on the Stewart and Lewes Rivers,
from Juneau, even from Vancouver and Wash
ington, crowds pushed their way to the new
El Dorado in spite of hardships and dangers at
which the bravest might quail, and when the
news was unquestionably proved, Klondyke
had become a name and a byword in the
world, and from every city in Europe, and
every centre in America, the strong, the poor,
the unemployed, the adventurous, the ne'er-do-
weel, sent a quota to that terrible region where
Nature guards her treasure behind gates of ice.
The rich — for such there were — soon turned
back because money could not buy their
essential needs ; the strong — if strong in mind as
well as body — pushed on, but often failed by the
way ; the adventurous and the heroic fought
with Nature, step by step, through the White

HOW SANDY M'QUEEN PAID HIS RENT 123
Pass, or over the fearful and famous ascent of
the Chilkoot, through the Grand Canon Rapids,
and so by the lakes to their frosty haven, but
the poor, ill-equipped, enduring hardship and
privation beyond the strength of man, eventually,
almost inevitably, succumbed, and died on that
dreadful unmade road of frost and hunger.
For a few days, Jay and Piatt, the original
pioneers of the Klondyke, stayed in Fort
Selkirk. They had been so long toiling at the
sluices that the sight of a few white faces made
them weep with joy, and the noisy gaiety of a
drinking saloon an irresistible delight. Mrs
Jay, the heroine of the Klondyke, was treated
to "a dhrop of the Irish" so often that "she
got a jag on," and after pasting her husband
wrh a broken bottle, and spoiling the beauty of
Saucy Jane by pulling enough of her hair out
to stuff a pillow, she was carried off by a
drunken gang of "the bhoys," and deposited
amongst some empty barrels, where she was
left to sleep in alcoholic bliss, with a bottle of
" comfort " beside her, to be ready to her lips
when she awoke. Saucy Jane soon followed
suit and was laid by Biddy's side, and bets
were made as to which of the two would first
wake up to go for the bottle. "The bhoys"
sat up night after night at poker, with stakes
of gold dust on the table. The talking, hoarse

i24 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
laughing, and hard drinking all progressed
together ; there was furious gambling, oaths
were hot and constant, and, for emphasis, they
had six-shooters. A free fight broke out, the
table was upset, the floor was littered with
packs of cards and broken glasses ; all the men
were drunk and the women maudlin. There
was a row about a mirror accused of cheating ;
it was probably innocent, but suspicion doomed
it to destruction. A bottle of champagne was
hurled at it, and there was a smash ; chairs and
empty casks were hurled about, the gold dust
went flying. There was a general crash and
scramble, horrible oaths and hysterical shrieks
mingled in the bedlam of din, and the sharp
crack of a pistol, echoed by a score of answering
shots, and fierce voices, betokened grave
mischief. There was a lull. A stream of blood,
pumping from a man's chest, ran in crimson
channels, soaking into the sawdust, when the
police came on the scene and cleared the bar.
Then the pioneers, Jay and Piatt, went back
to Bowleg's Gulch. But already a crowd
was there. Miners from Circle City and Forty
Mile Creek had flocked to Klondyke. Men
who had been digging gold in the Yukon
district for years, and who had been getting it
in no inconsiderable quantity, threw up their
claims to work on the Klondyke River. The

HOW SANDY M'QUEEN PAID HIS RENT 125
gold was there in wonderful richness. One man
washed out of one pan no less than 500 dollars.
The fact was vouched for by a Government
official, and telegraphed the whole world over,
for nothing like that had ever been heard of
before in the history of gold mining. Nothing
like the marvellous haul which Jay and Piatt
had carried into Selkirk had ever been known
even in California or Australia. The wealth of
Klondyke came on the financial world as a
great surprise, and the proof of the wealth
heralded it.
The excitement caused by the news of the
find was equalled by the rapidity with which
men flocked to that almost inaccessible spot.
They established themselves upon the banks of
the river, fitting up sluices and making cuts
"in less than no time." The change that
came over the face of the landscape, the
clearings in the forest growth, the " caches " and
log-cabins that sprang up as though by magic,
were the natural consequences of the new
mining craze — but they were none the less
astonishing. None were more surprised than Jay and
Piatt. They had left the Klondyke a desolate
and lonely river — even the canoe of the Indian
was rarely to be seen, abundant though the
salmon were known to be in its swirling

126 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
waters — its banks were an utter wilderness,
untenanted, remote even from the casual
footstep of the trapper.
During the entire summer they had been
absolutely cut off from human intercourse
except with the tribe of wandering Indians
whose labour they had hired, and their absence,
whilst they were in Selkirk, had been but for a
few days. In less than a fortnight they were
back again at Bowleg's Gulch, and the change
in the aspect took their breath away. A
mushroom city had sprung up actually upon
their claim ; a saw-mill had been established
close to their own cabin ; the forest was dotted
with clearings ; the merry click of the axe
resounded through the woods ; the ground was
littered with poles and fallen trees ; rival stores
were doing a roaring trade in coffee, tea, bacon,
cheese, salt, sugar, axes, nails, spectacles, and
all kinds of commodities. A whiskey saloon
was in course of construction, and casks, where
liquor was sold, stood close by, outside a tent
on which was inscribed : —
"M'QUEEN'S BAR.
" Forty-rod Whiskey, a dollar a drink. Champagne
and cigars of the choicest brands. Gold dust taken in
exchange at $17 an ounce."
A pile of wine cases stood on end, stencilled
with the name of Perrier Jouet, 1884.

HOW SANDY M'QUEEN PAID HIS RENT 127
Even another "more marked change had
occurred in the short space of their eventful
fortnight. Winter had set in. The air was
chill and raw. Everybody wore fur, there
were fires everywhere, and the dense smoke
from the green wood filled the valley.
" Blowed if this ain't a transformation scene
at the pantomime ! " said Piatt, looking at the
landscape in amazement. " Ther'll be blue
and pink fire directly, a yaller dragon, and the
ladies of the bally. Wy it's Droory Lyne ! "
" Wot I'm thinkin', pard, is this," said Colonel
Jay, voiding his quid : " these chaps air on
our claim."
"Yuss, an' they're tykin' our gold," said
Piatt. " But et doan' matter, Jim. The more that
comes, the better for our royalty. We hev got
the title-deeds to all this, an' whoever works
on our land must jis' pay us ; besides, thar'll
be plenty of labour for the winter. All we hev
to du now is tu look on. Our old motto's
again a good 'un — ' Mum is the word.' "
So for a day or two Jay and Piatt did
nothing but look around. They visited every
camp, and inspected the diggers who were all
as busy as bees, not taking notice of anything
but their work.
The stores were doing a great business, and

128 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
the saloon-keeper, Sandy M'Queen, who had
engaged all the labour he could get, was making
great progress with the erection of his building.
Every hour it increased in importance ; the
floor was now being nailed down, and a bar
was being rigged up, Jay and Piatt looking
on with relish.
On the third or fourth day, at dusk, the
Saucy Jane boys came into camp. They knew
Jay and Piatt as the pioneers of the Klondyke,
and knew, too, what a huge haul they had made
during the summer, for they had helped to
carry it into Selkirk, so that in an hour or two
Jay and Piatt became universally known and
respected. To Colonel Jay the time seemed
ripe to assert his claim — an act that might lead
to some trouble. Through the Saucy Jane
boys, a report was spread that there would be
free drinks an hour after sunset, at Sandy
M 'Queen's saloon. Hooch was to be on tap.
So everybody flocked to the saloon. Sawyers
and carpenters were still at work in the light
of flaring oil-lamps. M'Queen, with a chisel
and hammer in hand, was unpacking a case of
tin cans behind the temporary bar consisting of
planks on barrels. Colonel Jay strolled in with
a quid of tobacco in his cheek, and sat down
as cool as a cucumber on a wine case. Piatt
was with him.

HOW SANDY M'QUEEN PAID HIS RENT 12$
" Them thar's the two that made the find,"
whispered a voice in the crowd. "They've
been hyar days, an' done nary a stroke.
Three hundred dollars — thet's the figger o'
thar strike."
Said Colonel Jay : " An' it's free drinks you
want boys, eh ? Wal, you kin hev 'em. Walk
in ! "
A crowd stood at the bar. M'Queen was
smiling like the sunshine in June.
" Jim, just knock the head off that case.
Help yourselves, boys. Pomery and Greno's
'84 is the tackle. Guess it takes some beating."
The diggers soon had it out. Bottles were
in every hand, corks popped in all directions,
and the cups, foaming with the froth of cham
pagne, went gaily round,
" Now, boys, success to our saloon ! That
air a fair toast, I reckon. Success to our
saloon, an' to Klondyke ! "
It was drunk uproariously.
" Boys, I will jis' tell you. Since me an' my
pard made our first find miracles hev happened.
Everything seems extro'rnary. Our luck —
why, it's mi-rac-u-lous ! The solid gold what
my Pardner Jim an' me took was wonderful.
But when we came back hyar, our luck was
still luckier. You see this hyar saloon? It's
a pretty saloon now, ain't it ? "
1

130 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
Colonel Jay looked around at it admiringly.
It was far from finished, but it was stoutly
built as far as it went with sawn trees and fir
logs. Sandy M'Queen, with his arms on his
hips, and his chest swelling, looked it up and
down also, his face beaming with smiles.
"Wal! did we build this saloon? Nary a
log. Did we pay for it to be built? Nary
a dollar. No. It fell out of Gawd's Heaven
on to our land, jis' as you see it now. It's
mi-rac-u-lous ! "
A cloud of perplexity seemed to gloom
over M 'Queen's face, and his smile vanished.
Colonel Jay glanced at him for a moment, and
continued :
" Fill up, boys ! Thar's plenty more bottles
in the cases. Here's tu you all ! Here's luck
to you an' to Klondyke ! "
The toast was drunk uproariously. Every
body's cup was filled and emptied in less time
than it takes to tell it. The floor of the saloon
was littered with empty bottles.
"Yu see, that's our luck. This saloon is
our luck. We just find it here on our land.
Built up for us without costing us a red cent.
It's got the name of M'Queen outside it,
but no matter for that, it belongs tu Jay and
Piatt." "Wad ye jus' saay thaat ower again?" ex-

HOW SANDY M'QUEEN PAID HIS RENT 131
claimed M'Queen, in a broad Scotch accent,
with a dazed look on his face.
" Did you not hear me?" asked Silas Jay, in
a tone of exasperating calm.
" I heared ye, mon, but I dinna ken wha' ye
mean." " Mane ! " cried Biddy Jay, appearing at the
doorway, with a saucepan in her hand, which
she brought down on a barrel end with a
sounding whack. " Mane ! My husband spakes
what he sis, an' what he sis he manes. This
bar doesn't belong to any dirty Scotsman,
begorra ! It's the property of Jay & Piatt."
" Ye owd scarecrow ! " cried Sandy. " L built
this saloon mysel'. D'ye want me to tak' it
awa r
"Not a log of it," said. Silas Jay calmly,
" Everything on this land is ours. You may
pay us a rent and stay, or you kin clar out an'
git. Only, if you du go, you leave the saloon
behind for the reasons I hev said."
"Oho!" exclaimed the Scotsman, "and
how maun I ken ye are the reet man to tak'
the rent ? "
" This hyah paper bearing the stamp of the
Dominion an' the seal of the Gover'ment, is
our title to this land, and all so ever upon it.
Thar's four posts — north, east, south, and west
of it. Them posts, an' this paper, marks the

i32 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
boundaries of Jay & Piatt's little bit of terri
tory, an' any one working on our claim is
welcome so to du, as the paid hands of our
firm at five dollars a day. Boys, I will take
another drink with you."
The response was not quite so cordial as
before. Mrs Jay stood scowling in the door
way still, and it gradually began to dawn on
the minds of many of those men there present
that they had possibly settled on land to
which Colonel Jay might have a prior claim.
They began to whisper amongst each other
ominously. " Boys, there need be no fuss," said Colonel
Jay. " We hev been here years, an' we hev
found whar the gold is. We hev worked hard
for our own. Some of you hev settled on
our land. Wal, no matter fur that. What
you've took out till now you may keep. Also,
you may remove yeur barrers, yeur skips, yeur
sluices, and yeur trestling — or our firm will buy
'em at a valuation. You kin stay thar an' pay
us a rent, or you kin stay an' our firm will pay
you wages for what you find — five dollars a
day — or you kin clar out an' git, an' you can
squat somewhere else on the Klondyke. I
cayn't speak no fairer than that. The Saucy
Jane boys are quite satisfied to work for me;
they're goin' to take their five dollars a day.

HOW SANDY M'QUEEN PAID HIS RENT 133
They'll start tu-morrer, an' what they find
they'll hand over. Come along, Jim, come
along, missus — an', boys, good-night ! "
A hubbub arose as the partners left the men
to stomach these tidings, but there was not a
very great deal of trouble, as it happened.
The example of the Saucy Jane boys, who
were not only out of funds but short of actual
necessities, and who were consequently quite
willing to work at the rate of wages offered
them by Colonel Jay, was largely followed.
Many of the miners preferred for the time
being to take a regular wage, and some even
sold their wheelbarrows and trestles, so that
the pioneer firm was soon in control of a large
gang of men who were digging on various
parts of the property, thus enabling the partners
to test the value of several areas.
Now that the cold weather had set in, it
became necessary to thaw the ground continu
ally. They had to melt the frozen dirt in the
pan. They had to melt the earth itself before
they could dig it, and deep down though they
went they still had to thaw the frozen ground.
Roaring fires were kept up all over the camp,
and the glow of burning faggots enabled the
men to work during the dreary hours of the
long Klondyke night.
M'Queen, the Scotch bar-keeper, was the

134 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
only one who was disputatious. The miners
had already begun to pay for drinks in gold-
dust, and the shrewd purveyor of whiskey
foresaw a harvest for the saloon if he stayed.
But to pay 3650 dollars a year rent — the
amount which Jay & Piatt had fixed — was
gall and bitterness to the thrifty Scotsman.
"Ten dollars a day!" exclaimed M'Queen.
" It's owre much ! I winna pay it ! An' if I'd
only pitched the hoose a few hundred steps
further up I should have no sic rent. Nay,
not a bawbee at all, an' no landlord. I'll tak'
it doon, log by log, an' build it oot o' th' auld
pieces again."
" Yu cayn't du that," said Colonel Jay ; " the
logs air off our land, therefore they air our
logs. It's our bar, land, and logs — the whole
b'il'in'." "Ay, ay, Colonel Jay. That puts you
further awa'. I'll lave the hoose and build
anither, an' nivver pay a bawbee for rent to
ony mon."
" Then our firm will run a saloon hyah
ourselves." "You canna," said M'Queen angrily; "you
have eneuch to do getting the dross wi'out
managing a public."
" I shall put in Mrs Jay as boss, and engage
Saucy Jane as barmaid."

HOW SANDY M'QUEEN PAID HIS RENT 135
" They'll scrat each other's eyes oot," said
the Scot. " That young lassie will have a' the
lads glegging at her, syne your guidwife — the
ugly hussey ! — aw, I canna tell ye for the laugh
ahint my heart a-choking me at sic a thocht ! "
Suddenly the Scotsman paused and grew
grave. "Aweel! I'll consider it, Colonel. I'll
let ye know the morning."
Then he turned and went off savagely.
Pausing after a few paces, he turned fiercely :
" Ye're a dour mon, Colonel Jay. I sair doubt
ye'll no be saved at the Day o' Judgment.
Damn ye for a magerful body ! "
When Colonel Jay went into the saloon next
day, M'Queen looked up at him out of the
tail-end of his sandy eyelashes.
There was a twinkle in the glance, and the
Yankee, who had all the American love of
driving a smart bargain, wondered what it
might forebode. He cast a look around,
observed a new rough pinewood counter and
other fixings, and reckoned with smart quick
ness that the Scot meant to stay. He
determined not to budge an inch, nor to
reduce the rent a single dollar.
"Well, Mac, hev you considered ?"
"'Deed I have, Colonel Jay! I am settling
to stay. It's a good pitch, an' a' the lads ken
I sell the reet stuff, but I shall want more

136 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
land around. A bit yard, maybe — a place
for casks — room to add, if need be, wi' a
stable for the sleds and dog-teams."
The Colonel turned over his quid in his
customary silence.
" Nows and nans the laddies get to drinking,
an' a bit of a singing saloon for the long winter
nichts, and it may be a bit o' groun' for a
summer gairden  "
"You air foreseeing, Sandy M'Queen."
"Ay — ay mon ! Wad ye hae me as blind
as a mole? Aweel, let's mark oot the
boondaries. Three thousand sax hundred
and feefty dollars a year ! I'm daft to think
o' sic a rent ! Ah ! God have maircy upon ye,
Colonel Jay ! — ye have none on me. Will
ye tak a liquor the now? — though it's the
landlord's reet to pay."
" Let's first slosh out the lines of yeur
holding, M'Queen. You want a block of
land for the kegs ? That's only fair — drive
in that post, eh? Now take it fifty yards.
What, no tape? Wal, I guess we kin step
it." " Make it saxty, mon — make it saxty ! "
"Guess that will do," said Colonel Jay,
taking an additional stride or two.
"Eh, mon, mon! had ye nivver a
mither — or was she a hard ane, too? Tak'

HOW SANDY M'QUEEN PAID HIS RENT 137
anither step or twa. Here, gi' me the post,"
and M'Queen, suiting the action to the
word, carried the stake three or four yards
further along. " Shall that be the boondary ?
Ay." "Not a yard further than that," answered
Colonel Jay, bringing the stake back a pace
or two, and driving it in with an oath. " And
now for the south side ; I'll pace out a hundred
and fifty steps."
"Nay, mon, I'll step it mysel'," said the
Scotsman, who forthwith proceeded to step
it with strides that nearly split him in two at
every pace. The Yankee watched him with
an amused smile.
"Now come back ten for over-stepping," he
shouted. " Ower-stepping!" echoed M'Queen foolishly,
" I didna ken I ower-stepped.''
" The post goes in thar ! " said Colonel Jay
decidedly, striding back a few paces.
"Ye're a hard man, Colonel Jay," said
M'Queen, shaking his red head sorrowfully.
" Let me mind you it's not siller I'm paying
for rent, but gowld."
"An' it's not siller yew will be taking for
drinks but gold — an' nuggets at that," replied
the Yankee smartly. "An' thar you air.
Theer's yeur four posts. One, two, three,

138 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
four ! See ? Thar's your boundaries. Now,
let's liquor."
" If I pay for these two drinks, Colonel,
wad ye move the two end posts just a wee
stride further oot ? "
" Not a derned inch ! "
" Ye're ower muckle magerful, Colonel Jay.
A bit more land  "
" Yu bet them four posts is druv. Not a
bit more land shall you hev, M'Queen. Yu
can pawn yeur soul on that ! "
" There'll na be room for the wee shed
I'd be building for the teams o' doggies."
" Then put 'em in the cellar."
The Scotsman's shrewd eyes glistened.
" Ye'll not be mindin' if I dig oot a cellar ? "
"Ye kin dig down to hell," replied the
Yankee, with an emphasis which is usual
in the conversation of Klondyke miners.
" Inside them four posts you kin du what
you like, but not a yard outside the boundary.
Is that a bet ? "
The Scotsman looked at the extended
hand of the Yankee and held up his own
persuasively. "Ye'll mak' the rent even money — three
thousand dollars, Colonel Jay ? Tak' a drink
noo an' dinna be tight. I'm gey auld, an'
flour fifteen dollars a sack, an' claothes are

HOW SANDY M'QUEEN PAID HIS RENT 139
dear on the Klondyke, an' whuskey tak's
gettin' to this driech hole. It's no' a' profit."
" I reckon it ought to be even money, Sandy
M'Queen. I reckon the rent of this shanty
ought to be four thousand dollars a  "
" Four thousand dollars ! Mon alive ! "
interrupted the Scotsman in genuine surprise.
" I meant ye to knock aff the sax hundred
an' feefty — an' when ye said even money I
meant three thousand dollars — an' that will
starve me."
" Four thousand dollars would be a fair
rent, but I said three six-fifty. That's ten
dollars a day, an', if I move from that, God
strike me dead ! "
M'Queen bent his head at the shocking
blasphemy. The fight was over.
"We'll have no parchment on this deal,
M'Queen. Gi'mme a whiskey straight, an'
if it's a bet thar's my hand. If it ain't I'll
stand you a drink an' you kin git. Air that
fair?" " It ain't fair, Colonel — but  "
"Air it a bet?" said Colonel Jay with a
decisive oath.
M'Queen took the extended hand and gripped
it. " It's a bet — and a bargain," he said.
Then he laughed.
There was something of meaning in that

140 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
laugh. It was a complacent, not to say a
crowing laugh. M'Queen was at least well
satisfied. " Faix ! " cried Mrs Jay, who had been
hovering about during the whole deal, "the
Scotsman seems mighty plazed with his
bargain. Perhaps he'd like to make it a
permanent dale for twinty-one years."
" He may if he likes," said Silas solemnly.
" Verra weel," said Sandy ; " so let it be.
I'll not turn up my nose at the owd woman's
suggestion," and he laughed again.
" Ould woman it is, am I ? " cried Mrs Jay
bridling. "Shure I shall be young enough to
boss you, Sandy M'Queen, when the rint day
comes due. Ye'll howld a civil tongue in that
Scotch head of yeurs when I come collecting
the rint. It's an ould Irish woman you'll find
me thin, Sandy M'Queen, but young enough
entoirely to have my due."
" The rent will be aye ready," said Sandy
with another laugh.
" Mac ! " said Colonel Jay, looking into his
tin cup stolidly, "there's suthin' sarcustic in
yeur laugh thet makes me think I've been
done over. But if you hev bested me in this
deal I am content. Thar's my hand."
"Colonel Jay," replied the Scotsman smiling
still, " I just can't keep it to mysel'. I want

HOW SANDY M'QUEEN PAID HIS RENT 141
to pay you your rent right away now — you or
your ould woman. Although it is the Sawbath
Day, hand me yon pick."
The pick-axe was handed over the counter,
and M'Queen, spitting on his hands before
commencing, set to work with a will on the
ground the other side of the bar. It was not
floored over. The earth was soon loosed and
he laid aside his pick for the shovel. In a few
minutes he hauled out a great nugget, then
another and another.
"This is what I came to accidentally when I
was building the counter," exclaimed M'Queen.
" The ground is just paved with 'em solid. It's
a fine cellar I'll be having, though I'll not dig
so deep, Colonel Jay, as you gi' me title to, ah !
— an' I've got the rights of it for twenty-one
years ! There's another lump of the stuff.
Weigh it up, mon! Weigh it up, Mrs Jay! Tak'
your rent oot o' that. I can pay your year's
rent in half an hour's digging, an' I hope,
madam, I say it civil, if it's a drop of
whuskey ye'll be takin' noo, shall it be Scotch
or Irish?"

CHAPTER 'BOW-LEGGED JIM'S
NINTH MARRIAGE
/~|-VHE original discoverers of the Klondyke
had become rich "beyond the dreams of
avarice." But though they were richer than
they dreamed, and richer than they knew, they
were still unsatisfied. The ore itself was as
yet untouched. To quarry and mill this was
now their great aim.
The vast wealth of Messrs Jay & Piatt was
soon noised abroad. Travellers from great
engineering firms, with the characteristic
enterprise of the Anglo-Saxon trader, had
surmounted the incredible difficulties of the
journey, and had come to Klondyke on purpose
to take their orders.
The partners decided they would lay down
machinery and plant of the most approved type,
and they gave their orders for stamps, and mills,
and other appliances on a spirited scale that
142

BOW-LEGGED JIM'S MARRIAGE 143
amply repaid those enterprising travellers for
their long and perilous journey.
Meanwhile the partners had to proceed as
best they could without machinery. They
were busy from day to day superintending their
properties, and they had plenty to do in
furthering the aims for which they now lived.
Our various ambitions give interest to our
lives. One would be rich, another powerful,
another famous. This man looks over his
neighbour's hedge every day, and is watchful
for years to gain his neighbour's field ; that
one waits for half his lifetime to fill a dead
man's shoes ; and what is your petty dream or
mine ? But whether our aims be small or great
— and the greatest of them are so puny, that
they make laughter for the gods — it is our
ambitions only which make life endurable.
Colonel Jay, intent on being rich, had no
care for anything but the making of his pile.
Piatt, who had stumbled casually into wealth,
but who had never yet experienced the joys
of even a moderate competency, or comfortable
income, repaired frequently to Dawson City,
desiring only to enjoy the elusive cup of
happiness, and willing and ready to squander
a tithe of his earnings in gambling and saloons.
All he wanted was fun. But the opportunities
for fun were few and rare in the twenty-two

144 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
hours of darkness which form a substantial
portion of a Klondyke day. Drinking, cards,
and dancing were the only joys of Dawson
City. The drink was bad, the cards were
dirty, and the dancing dissolute. Any one
of these might bring a man to ruin, but Saucy
Jane, having certain designs on this eligible
bachelor, became his good angel. Having
been temperate for many years, and possessing
a sound constitution, Piatt was able " to lift
his elbow " pretty freely without apparent
inconvenience. At cards he was " a rank
duffer," but, thanks to Saucy Jane's candid
tongue, he knew it, and thanks to her influence,
he refrained from very high play. Besides,
he had worked for his wealth too hard,
he had endured privations in his poverty
too severe, to squander his money like a
boy. Dancing was his especial weakness. As
soon as Abe's fiddle began Bow-legged Jim
had his arm round some woman's waist and
was gyrating in the mazy waltz, or hopping
through a polka, or, best of all, airing his
susceptible heart among the changing partners
of a square dance. He cut a queer figure,
but he had an ear for a tune, and a nimble
pair of feet, notwithstanding his bandy legs.
He caused a great deal of chaff and amuse-

BOW-LEGGED JIM'S MARRIAGE 145
ment amongst the denizens of the low saloons
he frequented, but as he was known to be
rich, he had many flatterers who ministered to
his good-humour, large store of which he had
by nature ; and Saucy Jane, whose original
regard for him was rooted on a financial
basis, eventually came to like him for his
strong good sense and his many excellent
qualities. He was lavish in hospitality, and
generous with money, and all women like
generous men. They know there must be
something for them to acquire, and they dream
of acquiring all there is.
Women have strong mining instincts.
Indeed, at heart, all women are diggers. They
love to scrape up the gold if they do not care
to wield the pick. But man is the mine they
work. He is so much "pay dirt" in their
eyes. How will he "pan out"? What is
there in "the cut"? Will the gold run well
through the sluices? Will it collect on the
riffles freely, and dribble nicely through the
perforations ? Can they make " a placer claim "
on him, or are there " conflicting claims " ?
Or is he stony, difficult to work, hard-grained,
obstinate in the ore ? If a woman looks with
curious interest at a man she is not thinking,
be sure, of his straight nose or his large eyes,
she is reckoning up how many ounces he will
K

146 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
grade to the ton, and how she can effect a
" big strike." God bless all women !
For this care of the sex of our belongings
is very beneficial to us all. Women take
care of our purses better than we can do
ourselves, and Saucy Jane, having decided to
take care of J. T. Piatt's, staked out her claim
in the precincts of his pectoral region, and
eventually conducted him to the altar.
Their wedding was an open-air event, for
there was no church either at Dawson City
or at the gulch. But a parson was discovered
amongst the miners ; although malicious
rumour said he had absconded to Klondyke
with the subscriptions for a proposed new
church. Whether this was true or not cannot
be proved or contradicted, but it can be safely
stated that he brought none of it with him to
the camp. He was the poorest man on the
Klondyke, and, at that date, the only gentleman.
He had already started a subscription list, of
course, but at the present there were no names
down on it except his own.
The ceremony was solemnised gaily outside
M 'Queen's saloon. There was not half room
enough inside for the crowd. A mob of miners,
clad in fur up to their ears, stood in their india-
rubber boots in a great circle on the frozen
snow, chaffing and hustling each other in

BOW-LEGGED JIM'S MARRIAGE 147
their efforts to get a front view. Fires were
blazing away everywhere, and the smoke was
thick and heavy. It was dark and even dingy
overhead but as the twilight came, the flickering
lights of the Aurora Borealis began to wave
and flutter in the northern heavens. Pink,
green, and violet flames shot up into the starry
sky, lighting the horizon, and rendering visible
even the distant waters of the Yukon, which
shone beneath the brilliant flames of the
Aurora with a roseate sheen. In the light
of the waving ribbons of the Aurora, the
miners' ¦ lanterns paled their ineffectual fires,
and the ceremony was performed before the
whole camp. All the Bonanza was there.
The bride, arrayed in a low-necked dress
of white satin, procured from one of the
saloons at Dawson City, with a long tulle
veil, and orange blossoms in her hair, shivered
by the bridegroom's side. But she wore a neck
lace of nuggets which created such a warmth
of envy that she was careless of the cold.
Jim was in mixed attire. He wore a white
waistcoat, from the pocket of which suspended
a heavy gold chain, but he had thick fur
clothes underneath the vest. He had
managed to procure somehow, at a fabulous
price, a tall top hat, but his bandy legs were
encased to above the knee in miners' jack

i48 " TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
boots. The parson had donned a regular
clerical garb. It is wonderful what one can
get at Klondyke, or anywhere else, when
needs must. Colonel Jay was his partner's
best man. There was a paucity of women
in the district, but everything of the feminine
gender for miles around was there. There
were costumes, too, such as have never been
seen even in Regent Street. Saucy Jane had
no false pride, and two notorious ladies from
Aaron Goschen's saloon, gorgeously arrayed
in light blue satin, acted as bridesmaids.
Their noses were blue, too, owing to the
cold, but their cheeks were a most ex
pensive pink, for only one pot of rouge
could be got, and that had to be sent for
to Circle City. There were no flowers but
they made up for it in feathers, and had
enough of these to supply all the Princes
of Wales for many generations.
Mrs Jay, although a married woman, in
sisted on being an additional bridesmaid
herself, and threatened to strip the other
women of their finery if some wasn't forth
coming for her. It was duly provided, and
when she was fully arrayed she formed a
sight fit to make glad the heart of man.
There was a hitch at the commencement
of the ceremony because no prayer - book

BOW-LEGGED JIM'S MARRIAGE 149
could be found anywhere, and the parson
could not remember, the service. Abe, the
fiddler, scraped out some waltz music, but
this seeming inappropriate, as lacking solemnity,
somebody, who had a concertina, struck up
one of Moody and Sankey's hymns which
had a refrain that the miners sang heartily ;
and then a Bible was discovered and handed
up to the officiating clergyman ; from this
a psalm was read. That concluded, there
was a pause, for the question was what came
next. Jim produced a ring, and the clergyman,
remembering the effective part of the ceremony,
said in a sober voice :
"James T. Piatt, wilt thou have this
woman to be thy wedded wife ? Wilt thou love
her, comfort her, honour and keep her, in
sickness and in health, so long as ye both
shall live ? "
"Forsaking all other," exclaimed a voice
on the fringe of the crowd, "you have
omitted that, ' forsaking all other, keep thou
only unto her. ' "
" I will," said Bow-legged Jim with fervour.
"Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded
husband, to live together in the holy estate
of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, love,
honour, and keep him in sickness and in
health, and, forsaking all other, keep thee

i$6 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
only unto him so long as ye both shall
live." " I will," said Saucy Jane, her eyes twinkling.
"Jim, give thegentleman the ring."
So the ring was put on Saucy Jane's finger,
with the appropriate words, and the man
with the concertina wound up the ceremony
with a tune, Abe accentuating such parts of
it as caught his ear upon the violin.
As soon as the concertina lulled, the sot
disant parson held up his hand in sign of
silence, and producing a bag from the tail
of his coat, he solemnly announced ; " This
service will now conclude with the usual
collection." His announcement seemed to be
quite in accordance with propriety, and nobody
seemed in the least astonished ; so he quietly
went round the circle, which was beginning
to dissolve, holding out his bag, into which
many small nuggets were dropped, for there
was a lack of coin on the gulch, and this
was the usual currency.
Then there was a great deal of handshaking,
and embracing, and kissing of the bridesmaids,
even Mrs Jay allowing this salutation from a
favoured few, and M 'Queen's saloon, which
was crowded before, was packed full and
jammed tight with noisy miners. Champagne
corks began to fly. M'Queen was having a

BOW-LEGGED JIM'S MARRIAGE 151
glorious harvest. Nuggets were raining into
the bar. Barrels were set on end outside the
saloon in the snow, and a new bar was ex
temporised to deal with the crowd who could
not be accommodated within. Free drinks
were announced by order of the bridegroom,
and whiskey flowed like water. Songs were
sung, especially those with choruses, and "Home,
sweet Home ! " was twice encored ; but whilst
" Father wouldn't buy me a Bow-wow, Bow
wow ! " was being chanted, the man with the
concertina, who was playing the accompani
ment, came to a dead stop, for some one had
whispered to him that the wedding breakfast
was in progress. The rumour quickly spread,
and there was a rush to the log-cabin specially
erected for the occasion. Those who could
not get inside picnicked outside. There was
plenty and to spare, but it had to be scrambled
for, because there was a lack, not so much of
waiters, as of plates, but various joints were
brought out, hunks of which were cut or torn
off and handed round.
The speech - making began before the
breakfast was half over. Bow-legged Jim, a
Cockney to the core, was as glib as butter in
responding for the bride. The health of the
bridesmaids, proposed by M'Queen, was drunk
enthusiastically, and there were loud calls for

152 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
Mrs Jay. She had got rather mellow, and was
on her feet at once.
" It's a bride meself I was, an' shure it's not
long ago when I married that man, an' bad
luck to him ! or I might have had Bow-legged
Jim to my own. Shure he's the best partner
av the two av ye. Faix ! an' why should I be
a bridesmaid at ahl, at ahl, ye're axin'. Have
I anything to be ashamed of for bein' an honest
woman ? — an honest married woman, plaze the
pigs ! Bedad ! I'm fitter to be a bridesmaid
than thim two bridesmaids from Dawson City ! "
(Disturbance.) "Ah, ye may well put your
hands over their potaty-traps ! H6wld their
tongues, the sassy jades ! It's mey meself a-
tarkin', an' she's a clane-mouthed woman, is
Biddy Jay ! I wouldn't hev them be spakin'.
Begorra! It was enough to hear that dirty
Scotsman, Sandy M'Queen, beslavering them
in his slimy spache ! I repate it : I'm fitter
for a bridesmaid than either the pair of them
together! Besides, that man,"- — here Biddy
shook her finger at her calm-visaged husband,
— "that man, Silas Jay, ran away from me for five
year, an' I was his widder all the time. There's
not a woman in the room can say as much,
and as for Saucy Jane herself — begging her
pardon — it's Mrs Piatt, I mane  "
" Set yerself down, Mrs Jay," exclaimed the

BOW-LEGGED JIM'S MARRIAGE 15J
bridegroom tactfully, springing to his feet with
alacrity. " Boys, here's to Mrs Jay ! There
eyen't another like . 'er on the tarnation airth
— an' thank Gawd! Sandy M'Queen, you will
second that ? "
" The vairtue of Mrs Jay," said the Scots
man, rising with ponderous solemnity, " seems
to give bairth to some distairbance. ' Ye
winna listen. Och, but ye a' ken she's a
spunky woman — a woman o' sperrit ! There's
a mash of people in the saloon, an' I canna hear
mysen talk if ye mak sic a din. Sit ye doon
there by the door! What's all the fluster
for? The mair I  Eh, are ye a' fou syne
the last toast ? Wha's that, mon, ye are a-
carryin' ? "
Everybody in the room had risen to his feet,
for some commotion had been caused at the
door, and a man was being carried in — a man
so weak and pallid that his white face attracted
everybody's eye.
" Sit down ! " shouted a score of voices at
once. But the hubbub increased.
•' Sit down \" exclaimed Colonel Jay ; "stow
all this flap-doodle ! What's the matter with —
Eh ! the man's starving, you say. Who ?
Forty of them! What, the whole provision
gang ? At Crystal Creek ! Forty hours ago !
They'll be lost to a man ! "

154 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
The breakfast party broke up. The news
that reached the gulch was terribly grave.
The provision party, on which they depended
for their winter needs, was lost in the snow.
A disaster of dire gravity had happened, and
the men whose fate was questioned in this
hour of festivity were probably already dead.
All was excitement at the gulch. A relief
party was immediately organised. Colonel
Jay at once sent off a pioneer gang of half-a-
dozen men. They left the camp on sledges
immediately, taking only the barest neces
saries — blankets, a stove, brandy, and biscuits.
Colonel Jay followed with another gang an
hour afterwards, with provisions, tents, ropes,
furs, snow-shoes, and all sorts of articles that
seemed likely to be required.
Now, Crystal Creek is only ten miles from
Bowleg's Gulch, and, in summer-time, progress
by that route is feasible. Not so in winter.
Its waters, wonderfully clear and comparatively
warm, renowned for the fish which may be
seen sporting in its green depths, are fed from
a number of springs bubbling from the bottom
of the creek, and the surface rarely freezes,
except with a thin coating of ice. The
provision party, unaware that this thin ice is
rarely strong enough to bear, had made an
effort not simply to cross the creek, but to

BOW-LEGGED JIM'S MARRIAGE 155
travel down it on the ice. At the portion of
the creek on which they had started the ice
is stronger, and, travelling at a good speed,
they had traversed this part of it when the
first sledge suddenly fell through — dogs, and
men, and stores, and sledges, precipitately,
never a vestige of them being seen again.
The second sledge — there were three in all —
following close upon the other, pulled up
quickly at the sudden disappearance of the
first, but they, too, were immersed, and every
man and dog of them were drowned. The
third sledge, being some little distance behind,
pulled up in horror, but although the ice was
strong enough to bear them whilst they were pro
ceeding quickly, it gave way when they halted.
Their sledge and dogs soon foundered, but
the men, a number of whom accompanied
the sledge on foot, mostly wearing snow-shoes,
made desperate efforts to save themselves.
The majority of them, however, fell through
the thin ice, and though they struggled bravely
to get out, the ice invariably broke as they
endeavoured to flounder out of the water.
At last, exhausted by repeated efforts, the
greater number of them, one after another,
succumbed. Beneath the thin, treacherous
surface there was a very rapid current, so
that once in the water, there was little chance

156 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
for them. The current bore them further
and further away from the stronger ice, until
eventually they were borne lower down the
creek, under a surface that became thinner
and thinner, until eventually it brought them
into that portion of the creek which had no
frozen surface at all. So it was that their
strongly equipped party, with the provisions
intended for the camp on the Klondyke, were
lost. A few only, managed to reach an island
in mid-stream, and one who gained the
further bank was able, although terribly
exhausted, wet through, and frost-bitten, to
reach Bowleg's Gulch, and to announce his
fearful story of disaster.
This is the true account of that awful
calamity, but the man who brought the
terrible news of it could not tell whether
any but himself were saved. They had now
reached a time when it was light only for one
or two hours in the twenty-four, and soon it
would be perpetual night. He had come on
to the gulch in the darkness, finding his
way after failure and difficulty, and had more
than once despaired of ever reaching his
destination. When Colonel Jay reached the scene of the
disaster he believed that every one was lost.
He divided his men into several separate

BOW-LEGGED JIM'S MARRIAGE 157
parties of three, who searched up and down the
Creek, shouting and waving their lanterns, and
then listening intently for any reply. News
was at last brought to him that answering
voices were believed to come from Safety
Island — as the place was afterwards christened,
it had borne no name before. The voices on
the island were again heard, or so it was be
lieved. The question then was how to reach
the men whom they hoped were there. There
was no boat or canoe of any kind, and it would
take too long to build one. An attempt was
made to send a rope across by shooting an
arrow with a thread attached, but the distance
was too great, the island being beyond bow
shot. Trees were felled, cut into logs, and a
paddle improvised. Each log was then manned
by a volunteer, and launched into the stream,
but this expedient failed, as the current was
very strong, and every log swirled past the
island, in spite of manful efforts to reach it.
A peninsula of ice jutted out into the stream,
and the logs, one after another, when floating-
down, were arrested by this point of ice, but
the current then mastered the ill-equipped
navigators, and invariably deflected the course
of the logs, so that they were floated past the
island. But it was now certain that two, if
not three or more men were there. The

158 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
sledge was forthwith lightened of its load, and
by means of logs a raft was in course of rapid
construction. It required nothing more than
to be corded to the logs. Whilst this was
being finished, news came to the rescue party.
Piatt now arrived with his newly-married wife.
He brought information that eight men of the
wrecked provision boys had reached Bowleg's
Gulch. They had witnessed so much of the
disaster to their mates as the darkness had
permitted, and had heard the cries and shrieks
of the drowning. They were well behind the
others, and terrified by the shouts of their
unhappy mates, they had abandoned the
endeavour to cross Crystal Creek at all, but
making a detour, they had reached Bowleg's
Gulch by the Beaver Dam — a route which
had brought them into Bowleg's Gulch in
forty-five hours. Piatt having welcomed the
party left them in charge of M'Queen, and,
horrified at this terrible confirmation of the
news, hurried off at once to join Colonel Jay
and the rescue party. His wife, Saucy
Jane, insisted on coming with him, and they
had accomplished the journey quickly in a
sledge. " When did they arrive at the gulch — these
eight men ? " asked Colonel Jay.
" Three hours after you left — dog-tired they

BOW-LEGGED JIM'S MARRIAGE 159
was. Not so bad as the first pore chap, but
terrible weak they was."
" And you left them with Sandy M'Queen ? "
"And with Mrs Jay, Silas. Lor! You
wouldn't hev knowed 'er. She was that
affechshunit and tender to 'em. She was
their own mother to the eight of 'em — nursin'
of 'em, giving 'em brorth an' brandy, wrapping
of 'em up, an' coddlin' 'em. Lor ! Silas, she's
a treasure, is Biddy Jay."
" What d'ye think I got spliced to her
for if I didn't know that," exclaimed Colonel
Jay with a frown. " But who's looking
after the camp? Who's minding the
gold?" "Why — your missus is, in course. She's
alius the boss. Never you mind, Colonel.
Look here ! No sooner 'ad she done a-coddlin'
up those eight men — pore fellers ! — than she was
orf roun' the camp with her wooden spoon.
Ah ! she's a treasure, she is. She goes to every
camp fire on the gulch. She does so — a
scoldin' 'ere, blazin' away there, and layin' on
with 'er wooden spoon, jist like her own
nat'ral self fust time I saw 'er. The gold's
all right ; she's a-watchin' of it. An' not only
that. What do you think now, Colonel?
What do you think ? She's a thoughtful one,
she is. She ses to me : ' If all the provisions

160 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
is lorst, Jiin, 'ow would it be jis' to 'op over
to Dawson City an' buy up hevery sack o'
flour, an' hevery side o' bacon you can lay
hands to, for purwisions will be dear if this
disaster's true. Thar's a fortune in it ! Yis,'
she ses, ' an' be quick abart it, or else Sandy
will step in fust, an' I don't like bein' second
fiddle to Sandy M'Queen.'"
'" Wal, Jim, that's for the future. I can't
think of making fortunes now. I'm thinking
of these pore chaps — God help 'em ! — on the
island." " Wot are you doin' of, then ? "
" Making this sledge into a raft."
"What for?"
"To get across to thet island. There's three
or four men there — all that's saved of a score
or more."
"Why don't you get a rope over to the
island ? "
"We can't. It's too far."
"And you can't paddle over ? "
" That's what I'm going to try to do "rith
this sledge, but the current is so derned
ricketty, I fear we shan't manage it."
" Then, why don't some one walk acrorstr the
ice?" "It's too thin. We've been trying it. Two
or three of us have had a ducking over it. I

BOW-LEGGED JIM'S MARRIAGE 161
wish we could. A boy might do it — a light
weight, but it would be risky."
" I'm light ; try me!" said Saucy Jane.
"You!" exclaimed Colonel Jay, looking the
frail little woman up and down with the
lantern in his hand. "Wal, you air a saucy
one, you air ! Get away ! you ought to be on
your honeymoon. This is no place for women
— especially brides. It's a cemetery. It's chok
full of dead bodies — only we can't find 'em."
There was a pair of skates in one of the
pockets of the sledge, Saucy Jane — or to term
her by her new name, Mrs Piatt — was already
quietly fastening these to her little feet. Over
her shoulders she slung a long coil of stout
twine. "Jim," she called to her husband, "catch
hold of the shore end of this coil, and when
I signal you fasten it to a rope, and send the
sledge over. You understand ? "
" Sakes no ! I jis' don't understand, Jenny.
Whar air you a-goin' with them skates on ? "
"™To the island," cried Jenny, laughing gaily.
"When I wave this lantern you'll know I'm
thar." Snatching up a lantern she was off. Jim
ran after her but she was too nimble for him.
She was a good skater and struck out boldly.
The ice cracked ominously as she started.

1 62 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
The men, crowding to the edge of the ice,
saluted her with a loud cheer.
"Merciful Gawd!" exclaimed Jim, sinking
on his knees, " she'll be drowned for a moral !
Come back, Jenny, come back, my awn
darling ! The ice won't bear, you little fool.
Come back ! Ain't thar enough drowned
already ? "
But she was skimming over the ice in the
darkness regardless of all warning. They
watched her in intense excitement, visible now
in the distance by the light of her lantern.
" She may reach it, Jim," said Colonel Jay.
" Pray Heaven she may. She's a lightweight.
But  "
" May happen she'll skim across before the
ice has time to crack under her," said one of
the bystanders, endeavouring to reassure her
distracted husband, for he was nearly frantic
with apprehension, and he had to be held
back or he would have followed in a fool
hardy effort to accompany his plucky little
wife. " She's by the big hole now whar t'others
fell in ! " " More to the right, little 'un ! "
"Sakes! She's past that, anyway." "Ah!
she's by the edge of the water." " It's a
hundred to one she'll be in ! " These and a
score of other exclamations broke from the

BOW-LEGGED JIM'S MARRIAGE 163
excited crowd of onlookers as they watched
her progress.
" Bet she wayn't git thar ! "
"I'll lay evens on her ! "
" A hundred dollars she wayn't ! "
" Done with yew!"
" She's thar ! She is thar ! " cried Jim gaily,
and dancing with delight, " My saucy little
Jenny!" Her lantern was waving from left to right.
She had reached the island, paying out cord as
she went. A loud cheer broke from the crowd.
The rope attached to the twine was being
rapidly hauled over. The communication was
effected. A little later and the raft attached to the
cord was launched. Jim Piatt, with others
manning the raft, were hauled over to the
island. There was an anxious interval during which
the banks were thoroughly searched again
for possible survivors. None were found.
After a while the waving of the lantern on
the island signalled the return of the raft. It
was hauled back hand over hand. Five men
were saved. They sat huddled together on the
raft ; almost frozen together ; sore to bleeding
in their stiff and frozen clothes, injured for life
by the rigours of the last two days, but tended

1 64 TALES OF THE KLONDYKE
now by kindly hands and hearts that ached
over their agonies.
" But whar's Saucy Jane ? " cried Silas Jay,
before the men were landed, for it was obvious
she was not upon the raft.
" Oh, we've done her this time, 'ave we?"
replied Jim with a grunt, as he shipped his
paddle. " She started to skate back, the saucy
puss ! an' bet me a thousand dollars she'd land
afore me. We've done 'er this time."
"'Ow no, you ain't!" exclaimed Saucy Jane
from the shore. "You've jis' lorst yeur
bet, Jim darling. I've been back this two
minutes, an' helpin' with the rest of the boys
here to haul you back. Now, let's git horn.
This ain't no place for wimmen," she added
in her own cheeky manner, with a glance at
Colonel Jay. "No, it certainly ain't no place
for wimmen — especially brides."

THE END.

PRINTED AT THE EDINBURGH PRESS, 9 AND II YOUNG STREET.