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Before leaving I asked when Major Walsh had passed. "He is only three days ahead," the reply; "he lost two boats and one man here, and all kinds of Government stuff have been washed ashore since he left." "What!" I shouted, "do you mean to say the Major has had an accident?" "Waal, you kin see for yourself; that's some of his stuff thar,"-pointing to the sodden sacks on shore; "you can make out the Government stamp on them, if you care to look." But I did not care to look, and now motioned to Mac and Stewart to pull out. "Good-bye, boys; better luck next time!" I cried to the dismal little crowd on shore, as we shot into the current; but they made no response, and only gazed sorrowfully after us as we disappeared.

Three days more brought us to the entrance of Lake Labarge, and, as I had expected, it was frozen solid. "No chance of breaking a channel here, Mac," I said, as I examined the

edge from our boat and found it to be several feet in thickness. "Oh, we can take the sleighs now," remarked Stewart; but Mac evidently thought as I did, that sleighing would be much harder work than rowing. However, we could not complain; we had got through the most dangerous part of the route without any serious misfortune, and we would force our way forward on ice since the water was denied us. We had done fifty miles that day, and had been only six hours on the way; but the days were rapidly shortening, and even now, at three o'clock, a heavy gloom was beginning to fall over the country. We pitched our tent and got everything comfortably ranged for the night; then we proceeded to unload the boat and pack the provisions on our sleighs. This being done, we passed the evening as happily as we could under the circumstances.



It will be remembered by many that, in the winter of which I write, several attempts were made to relieve the starvation known to exist in

Dawson City. Horses and bullocks in abundance were sent over the Skagway Trail, goats were also requisitioned for the purpose of pulling sleighs over the ice-bound rivers, and thousands of dogs made the attempt to reach the Frozen Eldorado. Not one of these expeditions was success

ful in penetrating even to Lake Tagish. Horses were useless, as they could not pull as much as they themselves would eat in a few days. The goats proved themselves well adapted for mountain work, yet they were absolutely worthless immediately Linderman or Bennett was reached the deep snow proving an impassable obstacle to their progress.

Dogs are the only real means of transport in such a country, yet even they failed to pene

trate the frozen interior, as they could not pull more than their own weight on the soft yielding snow. At that time no reliable information was available regarding the nature of the winter trail to Klondike, nor has there been any obtained since. Had the expeditions sent out last year been able to penetrate as far as Marsh Lake, the much greater distance beyond could have been accomplished with barely an effort.

From Marsh Lake southward the moist breezes of the coast make their influence distinctly felt, and snow falls almost continuously between the months of October and February, accumulating to vast depths all along this part of the route. It is one thing to

Lake Labarge had evidently been frozen for some time before our arrival, as the ice on its surface was several feet deep. Very little snow lay on the surrounding country: instead, a thin white film of frost barely concealed the rocky ground underneath, and in the shade of gigantic forests of pine trees, the natural mossy ground peculiar to that country appeared in all its sombre beauty. We commenced our long sleigh journey in the morning; the heavy sleigh glided along with great smoothness, and Mac and Stewart pulled their loads with evident ease. Dave was harnessed to the third sleigh, and pulled 250 lb. without a VOL. CLXV.—NO, MIV.

pull a heavily-laden sleigh over glassy ice, but it is a totally different matter to pull even half the same weight over the same trail when covered with several feet of snow. How strange it is that beyond Marsh Lake there is absolutely no snowfall during the winter season; the air is hard and dry, never containing sufficient moisture to allow of such an occurrence as a snowstorm.

I have gathered much knowledge of the country by hard experience, and yet I say that had we been compelled to take to our sleighs, on Tagish Lake for instance, we should never have been able to reach Lake Labarge, not to mention the many hundreds of miles beyond.


growl. We made fully twentyfour miles on the first day, and as we erected our tent that evening we calculated on arriving at Dawson within a fortnight. The scenery here was similar to what we had passed, but the trees were larger and denser, and the birches became more evident among their hardier neighbours. Animal life was also more abundant in this district, and various tracks covered the frosty surface of the lake. It was at this camp that I succeeded in shooting two very fine silvergrey foxes.

Our camp was pitched well among the trees, and about fifty yards from the margin of the lake, we always liked 3 s

to get under the shelter of the rifle rang out. Again I timber. Stewart as usual had fired, again, and again. In cut a deep hole in the ice, so all I fired six shots, and then as to get water for cooking I walked leisurely down topurposes, and was now busily wards the water - hole to estiengaged in his culinary opera- mate the damage. I was tions. Dave lay curled up be- greatly surprised and delighted side the stove, and Mac was to find that, instead of coyotes, reclining on the pile of blankets, I had killed two magnificent smoking the pipe of peace. I specimens of the silver-grey took my rifle and went outside fox. If I had been careful I to have a look round for a few might have got more, but I minutes before supper. My had fired almost at random, attention was at once arrested never thinking they were other by the appearance of several than Alaskan wolves. They forms against the white sur- had evidently scented the water face of the lake, beside our from afar and come to drink, water-hole. "Coyotes again," I for one of them lay with his said with annoyance, preparing head well into the hole. Stewto scatter them. I expected art skinned them that night, there would be a dozen or more and their beautiful furs went to swell our growing hoard of curiosities.

lurking around. I pulled the trigger, the sharp report of


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The trail now became gradually better, yet it took us two days of very hard work to reach Big Salmon river. As we neared this tributary of the Yukon we commenced to notice fresh moccasin tracks on the hoary surface of the ice; and, looking closer, we could distinguish the almost obliterated trail of sleigh runners where they had at times cut deeply into the trail. "We're coming near some one now," I remarked, as we steadily "forged" ahead, never stopping or once looking back. Neither Mac nor Stewart made any reply: they closely followed and covered the tracks made by myself and the dog, as we led the van with our lighter

sleigh, at a pace exceeding five to sit down-which I did on miles an hour. the ground, as there was no other seat. "I've come from Tagish," I said, "and have been trying to catch up with Major Walsh for several days. Can you tell me when he passed this camp ?" "He has not yet passed," was the gruff answer: "I'm Major Walsh; what news from Tagish?" "I have letter for you from Captain Strickland," I said, fishing it out from my pocket and handing it to him.


"From Captain Strickland! Get your mates inside immediately. My men went off hunting this morning, but I expect them back every moment. I cannot allow you to leave without having dinner. How did you leave the captain? Then I gave him Captain Strickland's verbal message, which seemed to amuse him greatly, for he laughed heartily. I left him occupied in reading the letter, and turned to go to fetch my companions, but that was unnecessary, as these two worthies had come over to investigate matters for themselves, and now walked in unceremoniously, with Dave at their heels, and comfortably arranged themselves before the stove, without a word.

"That's right, my boys, make yourselves at home," said the kindly Major, looking up from the despatches, and smiling broadly at the frosty appearance of my two aides-de-camp.

"The Major asks us to remain and have dinner," I intimated aside; "do you care to stay?" "Care to stay! What a question!" and Mac and Stewart looked reproach

While yet a long way off the Salmon river junction I could trace the smoke of stoves and campfires rising lazily into the clear air; and, as we drew nearer, several tents came into view. They were half hidden among the timber, and had we not observed the smoke of their fires, we should probably never have noticed them. We pulled ahead until we were exactly opposite the encampment, and then halted.

"Does not seem to be any one about," I said. "Mebbe it is an Indian camp," guessed Stewart. "Nae fear," replied Mac; "whaur wid they get tents like that?" and Mac's reasoning was correct, for the tents appeared to be exceptionally fine and of the most

modern manufacture.

"I'll go over and investigate," said I, after waiting a few moments; and over I went. There were four camps in all, one of them much larger than the others. I went to it first. "Holloa within," I shouted, as I came close. "Come in, don't knock," replied a deep bass voice from the interior, and, obeying the invitation, I entered. A powerfully built man of middle height and military appearance sat beside a section of a huge tree fixed in the centre of the tent-the sawn surface evidently doing duty as a table, for it was littered over with maps and charts. "Well, my boy, where have you come from?" asked the occupant, rising, and, by force of habit, motioning me

Pioneering in Klondike.


fully at me. The idea of their refusing dinner. Not likely !

We did stay, and for the third time were hospitably entertained by the Canadian Police. The Major was an excellent host, and regaled us with many delightful stories of his experiences among the Indians.

The loss of two boat-loads of provisions had seriously crippled his resources, and, instead of continuing his march to Dawson at this time, the Major had decided to remain at Big. Salmon till spring and then proceed, when fresh supplies and new boats had been sent him from Bennett.

We left Major Walsh late in the afternoon and continued our long trail northwards. The surface improved as we proceeded, and we got over the frozen river in record time. Nothing could be heard but the hiss of the sleigh runners as they slipped over the ice, leaving barely a trail behind. Soon the stars came out, and still we kept on: I had no difficulty in following the river, even in the darkness. The wooded banks on each side were reflected on


the glittering face of the ice by the pale light from the stars, and the shadows from each side, reaching almost to the middle of the river, left between a trail of comparative clearness which could easily be followed. It was late in the evening when we pitched our camp, and, as we lay down in our blankets that night, we had the satisfaction of knowing that we were fifteen miles north of Big Salmon.

The next day we passed the Daly river, a fairly large tributary which rises at the foot of the southern slope of the Kelly mountains, and joins the Yukon about twenty miles from the Salmon river. The trail winds greatly from this point, and we could seldom see a stretch of even half a mile ahead. We moved onward from early morn till night was far advanced. The country here was very densely timbered, and the huge mountains still formed the background. In the daytime their sharp outlines, clearly defined against the sky, gave an appearance of grandeur to the scenery such as cannot be surpassed in any country in the world.


I need not continue to detail our every day's journeying. The ice-bound river led us on through unvarying scenery for many days, relieved now and then by the beautiful valleys of the tributaries that joined the Yukon at different parts of the route. Three days after leaving the Daly we passed the conflu

ence of the Pelly. At this point the overland trail, via the Chilcoot mountains, joins the Yukon, after traversing 300 miles of generally undulating country. The blown ice was in some places about 20 feet high, but we crashed over it resolutely, although the sharp ice cut through our hide moc

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