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Great Gold Rush: A Tale of the Klondike

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<h3>OVER THE SUMMIT</h3> Hugh's prediction came true, for, on the morning following, a gentle breeze was blowing from the south, soft with the touch of spring. The first light that came over the mountains was a softening blue. "Roll out and get the kinks out of you, fellows, we've got to be first on the trail to-day." They had breakfast, the dogs were harnessed, and the party on the march by half-past four. Though the light was uncertain it was not hard to keep the trail. By six they were at the summit, greeting the police sentinel who had been on guard there through the night, and marvelling at the wealth of colours that lit the eastern sky. "Mush!" The dogs were off. The sleigh slid down upon the frozen plain of Summit Lake. The lightness with which it glided along seemed to assure the party that their troubles were over.[Pg 72] As the dogs trotted along it required a pace faster than a walk to keep up with them; so Hugh induced his two companions to sit on the load, saying that he would take a ride after a while. At nine they reached Log Cabin—passed without a halt, it being merely a police depot used for cutting firewood, though it had been the Customs post before the Canadian Government had asserted proprietary rights to the summit. Almost invariably, when greetings were exchanged with those met on the trail, the humour played about Soapy. "Say, you're hustling. I guess you ain't chechachoes. How's Soapy? going to run for President next trip?" "I guess so, if he ain't hung in the meantime. Looks like that he was the whole thing in the Passes." As the party at one o'clock drew into Bennett, they saw one party eating dinner in the open, with sleigh loaded and dogs harnessed beside them. A pile of spruce boughs denoted where these strangers had slept, and where their tent, now drawn up on their sleigh, had been erected. "Moving camp?" asked Hugh. "Yes." "I don't suppose you're going to take your location away with you?" "I guess not."[Pg 73] "Then it will just suit us, and we can use your fire. This is what I call lucky," said Hugh, as he began unlashing the load and throwing the bundles of supplies on the spruce bed. George was busying himself undoing the supplies while John replenished the fire. George cooked bacon; Hugh mixed flour, baking-powder, and water for slap-jacks—the large pancakes of the frontier. As they worked Hugh re-opened conversation with the strangers. "Where's your new location?" "Down the lake, five miles. Got wind of a good bunch of timber there, and hauled a load down this morning. One of our fellows stayed down making camp while us two came back for the rest of the stuff." "How long have you been coming from Skagway?" "Three weeks—a week here, and two weeks getting over the Pass. Contracted with a fellow to put through our stuff at thirty cents a pound, but finally had to buy dogs and haul it ourselves. And then the storms have been something fearful up to the last few days: sort of Dakota blizzard every day almost, after which trails was mighty bad hauling. This sort of weather comes hard on a fellow who was reared in California." "I guess it would come hard on a fellow reared[Pg 74] at the North Pole! You fellows will have your boat built in lots of time." "Yes, if we don't take to quarrelling like the rest of the blame fools around here." "What are those fellows doing here?" Hugh nodded to the great array of tents spread over the sand hills that lie between Lake Bennett and Lake Lindeman. "Most of them don't know what they are doing; but I guess they put in their time quarrelling. Old Moss-backs from the East, who have lived neighbours all their lives, and been best of friends, have come up here partners, and before they got through the Passes were calling each other the names they heard used by the old-timers to their dogs! It takes the police all their time settling disputes. The habit seems to have took all round, now that they are through their troubles and have only straight hard work, whip-sawing lumber, ahead of them. Why, say! I saw two fellows the other day dividing their outfit. They took a two-faced axe and drove it into a log, and with the face sticking up and a hammer they cut a whip-saw in two, making it no good for either, and swearing at each other all the time till you could smell sulphur. They cut stoves in two, and boats, after working hard to build them. It seems a new kind of bughouse that has got hold of them."[Pg 75] The strangers were now washing up their dishes and packing them away. "Here, take this, hand me a plate," and one of them poured some stewed prunes out of a pot, and from another emptied into a second plate beans and bacon. "But you fellows could take these along!" protested Hugh. "No, we couldn't; they'd get spilled; besides, we have some beef-steak for supper. Some fellows down near the lake killed an ox this morning, and you can get steak for six bits per pound—if it ain't all gone. Good-bye!" The strangers went off down the hill to the lake. Pipes were lit, and the three lay in the sun smoking. The day was glorious and the party had removed their snow-glasses, so that they were able to view their surroundings to the full. Mountains gleamed and glistened everywhere in the distance, but did not appear so overpowering or inspiring as in the Pass, though more beautiful. How pure the air seemed, and spotless the snow! Though the sun was warm and the party comfortable, there were duties to be performed; so, not without groans, Hugh and his friends started to erect camp. After the tent was up, Hugh put pots of beans, prunes, and rice on to boil—the rice being for the dogs, as there was small prospect of getting dead horse in Bennett.[Pg 76] After the bed had been made and the supplies stored in the tent, and more wood cut, there was nothing to be done; so Hugh went off among the tents on a "mooch round"—with an eye for beef-steak! George, acting as cook, stayed at home. John also went sight-seeing. He took a different trail from his friend, crossed to the west side of the stream that led from Lake Lindeman to Lake Bennett, and walked in the direction of a smoke stack, the local saw-mill, half a mile distant. As he strolled through the array of tents, he heard angry voices proceeding from one of them. "I tell you he's no good," one was shouting. "I had to pull most all the way up the Chilkoot—him saying he had rheumatism, backache, toothache, heartburn—everything but the mumps, for them I could see. An' then, when we did get over the summit, it's me who had to do all the pulling." "It's a lie—you're a low dog; and didn't I have to take whisky along before you'd travel at all? I tell you, Mr. Policeman, he's no good, he's a skunk, and I wouldn't take a skunk into Dawson with me, not if I never got there, nor never saw the million dollar claim I guess I'm going to get—if ever I get there."[Pg 77] John, passing beside the tent, could see the two disputants each seated on a log of wood, with a red-coated policeman standing in front of them. "Well," said the policeman, "if you fellows can't get on together, the only thing to do is split up the outfit and each take what belongs to him." "I own the whole outfit," said the man with the many diseases. "No, you don't; I own the tent, the stove, the sleigh, and a whole lot of the grub," shouted the other. John passed on. Another petty problem for the Mounted Police! They are great men, great workers, those yellow-legs! There were some industrious 'prentices at Lake Bennett, for down along the shore were numerous groups of men, building boats. "Like beef-steak?" asked Hugh, as John returned. "Yes—rather." A big frying-pan, with sizzling meat, was busy on the little tin camp stove. "Keep an eye on the meat, John, while I get some water." Hugh took a pail and went off to the river. George Bruce was away with an axe getting wood, so John was left in charge. Shortly afterwards George came along, hauling a log of fire[Pg 78]wood by an axe driven into it. John ran to assist him, and when the two had returned with the wood Hugh was arriving with the water. John again turned his attention to the frying-pan: the largest piece of steak was gone! "What has happened to the steak?" John asked. Hugh looked. A grim smile came over his face. "Dude!" "Dude could not steal steak out of a frying-pan?" "Not Dude? You bet your life that's where the steak has gone to. And there is no use licking him; the only way to cure Dude of stealing is to cut his tail off behind his ears. I told you Dude would rather steal than eat: and this shows how careful you must be." Dude was lying a picture of innocence on the snow. How he could maintain an appearance of unconcern with a broiling hot beef-steak inside him was a marvel! John looked at him amazed: the smallest slit of a black eye was watching him. "I was only away about three minutes." "Half a minute is enough for Dude. He likes beef-steak!" Hugh refilled the pan and then—civilization knows no artifice to better the enjoyment of such a meal![Pg 79] They were partakers, too, of another repast—their souls were fed by the glories of nature: the sun was setting; its splendour spread from high in the heavens to the rugged range that yesterday had resisted them. On that vast canvas were painted salmon-coloured clouds with long ribbons of yellow, bearing the lustre of burnished gold. It was the extreme of grandeur, awe-inspiring and ennobling. The evening was very still. <hr style="width: 65%;"/>[Pg 80] <h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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