The Trail of the Goldseekers Read online

  The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Trail of the Goldseekers, by Hamlin Garland

  This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

  almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

  re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

  with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

  Title: The Trail of the Goldseekers

  A Record of Travel in Prose and Verse

  Author: Hamlin Garland

  Release Date: April 10, 2009 [eBook #28551]

  Language: English

  Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

  ***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRAIL OF THE GOLDSEEKERS***

  E-text prepared by Karen Dalrymple

  and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team

  (http://www.pgdp.net)

  from digital material generously made available by

  Internet Archive/American Libraries

  (http://www.archive.org/details/americana)

  Note: Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive/American Libraries. See http://www.archive.org/details/trailgoldseekers00garlrich

  * * *

  The Trail of the Goldseekers

  The Trail of the Goldseekers

  * * *

  A Record of Travel in Prose and Verse

  By

  HAMLIN GARLAND

  Author of

  Rose of Dutcher's Coolly

  Main Travelled Roads

  Prairie Folks

  Boy Life on the Prairie, etc.

  New York

  The Macmillan Company

  London: Macmillan & Co., Ltd.

  1906

  Copyright, 1899,

  By HAMLIN GARLAND.

  * * *

  Set up and electrotyped. Published May, 1899. Reprinted January, 1906.

  Norwood Press

  J. S. Cushing & Co.—Berwick & Smith Co.

  Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.

  * * *

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER PAGE

  Coming of the Ships 3

  Outfitting 11

  On the Stage Road 21

  In Camp at Quesnelle 33

  The Blue Rat 37

  The Beginning of the Long Trail 45

  The Blackwater Divide 53

  We swim the Nechaco 63

  First Crossing of the Bulkley 73

  Down the Bulkley Valley 81

  Hazleton. Midway on the Trail 97

  Crossing the Big Divide 107

  The Silent Forests 119

  The Great Stikeen Divide 131

  In the Cold Green Mountains 139

  The Passing of the Beans 151

  The Wolves and the Vultures Assemble 163

  At Last the Stikeen 175

  The Goldseekers' Camp at Glenora 185

  Great News at Wrangell 195

  The Rush to Atlin Lake 207

  Atlin Lake and the Gold Fields 217

  The End of the Trail 231

  Homeward Bound 241

  Ladrone travels in State 251

  The Goldseekers reach the Golden River 259

  POEMS

  Anticipation 1

  Where the Desert flames with Furnace Heat 2

  The Cow-boy 9

  From Plain to Peak 19

  Momentous Hour 31

  A Wish 32

  The Gift of Water 35

  Mounting 35

  The Eagle Trail 36

  Moon on the Plain 43

  The Whooping Crane 51

  The Loon 51

  Yet still we rode 61

  The Gaunt Gray Wolf 79

  Abandoned on the Trail 80

  Do you fear the Wind? 95

  Siwash Graves 105

  Line up, Brave Boys 106

  A Child of the Sun 117

  In the Grass 118

  The Faithful Broncos 129

  The Whistling Marmot 130

  The Clouds 137

  The Great Stikeen Divide 138

  The Ute Lover 147

  Devil's Club 150

  In the Cold Green Mountains 150

  The Long Trail 159

  The Greeting of the Roses 161

  The Vulture 172

  Campfires 173

  The Footstep in the Desert 182

  So this is the End of the Trail to him 190

  The Toil of the Trail 193

  The Goldseekers 205

  The Coast Range of Alaska 215

  The Freeman of the Hills 229

  The Voice of the Maple Tree 230

  A Girl on the Trail 239

  O the Fierce Delight 249

  The Lure of the Desert 258

  This out of All will remain 262

  Here the Trail ends 263

  * * *

  ANTICIPATION

  I will wash my brain in the splendid breeze,

  I will lay my cheek to the northern sun,

  I will drink the breath of the mossy trees,

  And the clouds shall meet me one by one.

  I will fling the scholar's pen aside,

  And grasp once more the bronco's rein,

  And I will ride and ride and ride,

  Till the rain is snow, and the seed is grain.

  The way is long and cold and lone—

  But I go.

  It leads where pines forever moan

  Their weight of snow,

  Yet I go.

  There are voices in the wind that call,

  There are hands that beckon to the plain;

  I must journey where the trees grow tall,

  And the lonely heron clamors in the rain.

  Where the desert flames with furnace heat,

  I have trod.

  Where the horned toad's tiny feet

  In a land

  Of burning sand

  Leave a mark,

  I have ridden in the noon and in the dark.

  Now I go to see the snows,

  Where the mossy mountains rise

  Wild and bleak—and the rose

  And pink of morning fill the skies

  With a color that is singing,

  And the lights

  Of polar nights

  Utter cries

  As they sweep from star to star,

  Swinging, ringing,

  Where the sunless middays are.

  * * *

  THE TRAIL OF THE GOLDSEEKERS

  * * *

  CHAPTER I

  COMING OF THE SHIPS

  I

  A little over a year ago a small steamer swung to at a Seattle wharf, and emptied a flood of eager passengers upon the dock. It was an obscure craft, making infrequent trips round the Aleutian Islands (which form the farthest western point of the United States) to the mouth of a practically unknown river called the Yukon, which empties into the ocean near the post of St. Michaels, on the northwestern coast of Alaska.

  The passengers on this boat were not distinguished citizens, nor fair to look upon. They were roughly dressed, and some of them were pale and worn as if with long sickness or exhausting toil. Yet this ship and these passengers startled the whole English-speaking world. Swift as electricity could fly, the magical word GOLD went forth like a brazen eagle across the continent to turn the faces of millions of earth's toilers toward a region which, up to that time, had been unknown or of ill report. For this ship contained a million dollars in gold: these seedy passengers carried great bags of nuggets and bottles of shining dust which they had burned, at risk of their lives, out of the perpetually frozen ground, so far in the north that the winter had no sun and the summer midnight had no dusk.

  The world w
as instantly filled with the stories of these men and of their tons of bullion. There was a moment of arrested attention—then the listeners smiled and nodded knowingly to each other, and went about their daily affairs.

  But other ships similarly laden crept laggardly through the gates of Puget Sound, bringing other miners with bags and bottles, and then the world believed. Thereafter the journals of all Christendom had to do with the "Klondike" and "The Golden River." Men could not hear enough or read enough of the mysterious Northwest.

  In less than ten days after the landing of the second ship, all trains westward-bound across America were heavily laden with fiery-hearted adventurers, who set their faces to the new Eldorado with exultant confidence, resolute to do and dare.

  Miners from Colorado and cow-boys from Montana met and mingled with civil engineers and tailors from New York City, and adventurous merchants from Chicago set shoulder to shoemakers from Lynn. All kinds and conditions of prospectors swarmed upon the boats at Seattle, Vancouver, and other coast cities. Some entered upon new routes to the gold fields, which were now known to be far in the Yukon Valley, while others took the already well-known route by way of St. Michaels, and thence up the sinuous and sinister stream whose waters began on the eastern slope of the glacial peaks just inland from Juneau, and swept to the north and west for more than two thousand miles. It was understood that this way was long and hard and cold, yet thousands eagerly embarked on keels of all designs and of all conditions of unseaworthiness. By far the greater number assaulted the mountain passes of Skagway.

  As the autumn came on, the certainty of the gold deposits deepened; but the tales of savage cliffs, of snow-walled trails, of swift and icy rivers, grew more numerous, more definite, and more appalling. Weak-hearted Jasons dropped out and returned to warn their friends of the dread powers to be encountered in the northern mountains.

  As the uncertainties of the river route and the sufferings and toils of the Chilcoot and the White Pass became known, the adventurers cast about to find other ways of reaching the gold fields, which had come now to be called "The Klondike," because of the extreme richness of a small river of that name which entered the Yukon, well on toward the Arctic Circle.

  From this attempt to avoid the perils of other routes, much talk arose of the Dalton Trail, the Taku Trail, the Stikeen Route, the Telegraph Route, and the Edmonton Overland Trail. Every town within two thousand miles of the Klondike River advertised itself as "the point of departure for the gold fields," and set forth the special advantages of its entrance way, crying out meanwhile against the cruel mendacity of those who dared to suggest other and "more dangerous and costly" ways.

  The winter was spent in urging these claims, and thousands of men planned to try some one or the other of these "side-doors." The movement overland seemed about to surpass the wonderful transcontinental march of miners in '49 and '50, and those who loved the trail for its own sake and were eager to explore an unknown country hesitated only between the two trails which were entirely overland. One of these led from Edmonton to the head-waters of the Pelly, the other started from the Canadian Pacific Railway at Ashcroft and made its tortuous way northward between the great glacial coast range on the left and the lateral spurs of the Continental Divide on the east.

  The promoters of each of these routes spoke of the beautiful valleys to be crossed, of the lovely streams filled with fish, of the game and fruit. Each was called "the poor man's route," because with a few ponies and a gun the prospector could traverse the entire distance during the summer, "arriving on the banks of the Yukon, not merely browned and hearty, but a veteran of the trail."

  It was pointed out also that the Ashcroft Route led directly across several great gold districts and that the adventurer could combine business and pleasure on the trip by examining the Ominica country, the Kisgagash Mountains, the Peace River, and the upper waters of the Stikeen. These places were all spoken of as if they were close beside the trail and easy of access, and the prediction was freely made that a flood of men would sweep up this valley such as had never been known in the history of goldseeking.

  As the winter wore on this prediction seemed about to be realized. In every town in the West, in every factory in the East, men were organizing parties of exploration. Grub stakers by the hundred were outfitted, a vast army was ready to march in the early spring, when a new interest suddenly appeared—a new army sprang into being.

  Against the greed for gold arose the lust of battle. WAR came to change the current of popular interest. The newspapers called home their reporters in the North and sent them into the South, the Dakota cow-boys just ready to join the ranks of the goldseekers entered the army of the United States, finding in its Southern campaigns an outlet to their undying passion for adventure; while the factory hands who had organized themselves into a goldseeking company turned themselves into a squad of military volunteers. For the time the gold of the North was forgotten in the war of the South.

  II

  However, there were those not so profoundly interested in the war or whose arrangements had been completed before the actual outbreak of cannon-shot, and would not be turned aside. An immense army still pushed on to the north. This I joined on the 20th day of April, leaving my home in Wisconsin, bound for the overland trail and bearing a joyous heart. I believed that I was about to see and take part in a most picturesque and impressive movement across the wilderness. I believed it to be the last great march of the kind which could ever come in America, so rapidly were the wild places being settled up. I wished, therefore, to take part in this tramp of the goldseekers, to be one of them, and record their deeds. I wished to return to the wilderness also, to forget books and theories of art and social problems, and come again face to face with the great free spaces of woods and skies and streams. I was not a goldseeker, but a nature hunter, and I was eager to enter this, the wildest region yet remaining in Northern America. I willingly and with joy took the long way round, the hard way through.

  * * *

  THE COW-BOY

  Of rough rude stock this saddle sprite

  Is grosser grown with savage things.

  Inured to storms, his fierce delight

  Is lawless as the beasts he swings

  His swift rope over.—Libidinous, obscene,

  Careless of dust and dirt, serene,

  He faces snows in calm disdain,

  Or makes his bed down in the rain.

  * * *

  CHAPTER II

  OUTFITTING

  We went to sleep while the train was rushing past the lonely settler's shacks on the Minnesota Prairies. When we woke we found ourselves far out upon the great plains of Canada. The morning was cold and rainy, and there were long lines of snow in the swales of the limitless sod, which was silent, dun, and still, with a majesty of arrested motion like a polar ocean. It was like Dakota as I saw it in 1881. When it was a treeless desolate expanse, swept by owls and hawks, cut by feet of wild cattle, unmarred and unadorned of man. The clouds ragged, forbidding, and gloomy swept southward as if with a duty to perform. No green thing appeared, all was gray and sombre, and the horizon lines were hid in the cold white mist. Spring was just coming on.

  Our car, which was a tourist sleeper, was filled with goldseekers, some of them bound for the Stikeen River, some for Skagway. While a few like myself had set out for Teslin Lake by way of "The Prairie Route." There were women going to join their husbands at Dawson City, and young girls on their way to Vancouver and Seattle, and whole families emigrating to Washington.

  By the middle of the forenoon we were pretty well acquainted, and knowing that two long days were before us, we set ourselves to the task of passing the time. The women cooked their meals on the range in the forward part of the car, or attended to the toilets of the children, quite as regularly as in their own homes; while the men, having no duties to perform, played cards, or talked endlessly concerning their prospects in the Northwest, and when weary of this, joined in singing topical songs.
>
  No one knew his neighbor's name, and, for the most part, no one cared. All were in mountaineer dress, with rifles, revolvers, and boxes of cartridges, and the sight of a flock of antelopes developed in each man a frenzy of desire to have a shot at them. It was a wild ride, and all day we climbed over low swells, passing little lakes covered with geese and brant, practically the only living things. Late in the afternoon we entered upon the Selkirks, where no life was.

  These mountains I had long wished to see, and they were in no sense a disappointment. Desolate, death-haunted, they pushed their white domes into the blue sky in savage grandeur. The little snow-covered towns seemed to cower at their feet like timid animals lost in the immensity of the forest. All day we rode among these heights, and at night we went to sleep feeling the chill of their desolate presence.

  We reached Ashcroft (which was the beginning of the long trail) at sunrise. The town lay low on the sand, a spatter of little frame buildings, mainly saloons and lodging houses, and resembled an ordinary cow-town in the Western States.

  Rivers of dust were flowing in the streets as we debarked from the train. The land seemed dry as ashes, and the hills which rose near resembled those of Montana or Colorado. The little hotel swarmed with the rudest and crudest types of men; not dangerous men, only thoughtless and profane teamsters and cow-boys, who drank thirstily and ate like wolves. They spat on the floor while at the table, leaning on their elbows gracelessly. In the bar-room they drank and chewed tobacco, and talked in loud voices upon nothing at all.