Klondike Nuggets and How Two Boys Secured Them Part 4

Since it was necessary to use the stove, and it must rest on the snow, a simple arrangement provided against trouble from the melting of the latter. Three poles, eight feet in length, were laid parallel on the snow and the stove placed upon them. Although a hole was soon dissolved beneath, the length of the supports kept the stove upright.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE TENT POLES WERE SHOVED DOWN INTO THE SNOW.]

The experience which Jeff and Tim had had made them both excellent cooks, which was a fortunate thing for the boys, since they would have made sorry work in preparing a meal; but the art of the Irishman deserved the many compliments it received. With the aid of baking powder he prepared a goodly number of light, flaky biscuit, and by exposing some of the b.u.t.ter to the warmth of the stove, it was gradually changed from its stone-like hardness to a consistency that permitted it to be cut with a knife and spread upon the hot bread. The coffee was amber, clear, and fragrant, and with the condensed milk and sugar would have reflected credit upon the _chef_ of any establishment.

In addition, there were fried bacon and canned corn.

Until this time the boys had never believed they could eat bacon, but nothing could have had a more delicious flavor to them. It was not alone because of their vigorous appet.i.tes, but partly on account of the bitterly cold weather. There is a good deal of animal heat evolved in the digestion of fat bacon, and it is therefore among the favorite articles of food in the Arctic regions.

Probably there isn't a boy in the country who would not revolt at the thought of eating a tallow candle, and yet if he was exposed to the rigors of Greenland and the far north, he would soon look upon it as one of the greatest delicacies of the table.

The hemlock branches were now spread on top of the snow at the side of the tent, a large square of canvas was placed over them, upon which the blankets and robes were put, the whole forming a springy, comfortable bed.

Roswell and Frank were sure that in all their lives they were never so tired. Leaving the three men to talk and smoke, they stretched out on their blankets, wrapping themselves in them, and almost immediately sank into deep, dreamless slumber.

The sleep had lasted perhaps a couple of hours, when, without any apparent cause, Frank Mansley awoke in the full possession of his senses. Lying motionless, he listened to the soft breathing of his cousin beside him, while the regular respiration of the men left no doubt of their condition. Everything around was in blank, impenetrable darkness and all profoundly still.

"It's strange that I should awake like this," he thought, slightly s.h.i.+fting his position. "I'm tired, and was so drowsy that I felt as if I could sleep a week, but I was never wider awake than I am this minute--"

Amid the all-pervading silence he was sensible of a low, solemn murmur, like that of the distant ocean. At first it seemed to be the "voice of silence" itself, but it steadily increased in volume until its roar became overpowering. Startled and frightened, he lay still, wondering what it could mean, or whether his senses were deceiving him. Then he suddenly remembered the vast ma.s.ses of ice and snow which towered above them all through the day. He recalled the stories he had read of the glaciers and avalanches, and how Tim McCabe had referred to them as sometimes overtaking travellers in this part of the world.

He knew what it meant, and, leaping from his couch, he shouted:

"Wake up! Quick! An avalanche is upon us!"

CHAPTER V.

THROUGH CHILKOOT Pa.s.s.

As Frank Mansley's words rang through the tent they were followed by the awful roar of the descending avalanche, and all awoke on the instant. But no one could do anything to save himself. They could only cower and pray to Heaven to protect them.

Something struck the side of the tent, like the plunge of a mountain torrent, yet it was not that, nor was it the snow. Tim McCabe knew its nature, and catching his breath, he called:

"It's the wind of the avalanche! That won't hurt ye!"

The wonder was that it did not blow the canvas like a feather from its path; but the tent held its position, and the appalling rush and roar ceased with more suddenness than it had begun. The throbbing air became still.

Jeff Graham, who had not spoken, struck a match, and holding it above his head, peered around the interior of the tent, which he observed had sagged a good deal from the impact of the avalanche's breath, though the stakes held their places in the snow. He saw Frank Mansley standing pale with affright, while Roswell, sitting on the edge of his couch, was equally startled. Ike Hardman had covered his face with his blanket, like a child, who thus seeks to escape an impending danger.

Incredible as it may seem, Tim McCabe was filling his pipe in the gloom, preparatory to a smoke.

"Be aisy," was his comment, as he struck a match and held it above the bowl; "we're as safe as if in 'Frisco, and a little safer, for it's whin ye are there ye are liable to have an airthquake tumble the buildings about yer hid."

"Wasn't that an avalanche?" asked the amazed Frank.

"It was that, but it didn't hit us. If we had put up the tint a little beyant and further to the right, we'd've been mashed flat."

He spoke the truth. The enormous ma.s.s of snow, weighing thousands of tons, had toppled over and slid down the mountain-side with a roar like Niagara, but stopped short, just before reaching the tent. Some of the feathery particles sailed forward and struck the canvas, the greatest effect being produced by the wind, but the monster was palsied before he could reach forward and seize his victims.

When the situation became clear, every one uttered expressions of grat.i.tude, but the boys were not relieved of all fear. What had taken place might occur again.

"Not a bit of it," was Tim's rea.s.suring reply. "I've obsarved the things before, and we shan't be bothered agin to-night. Take me advice and go to sleep, which the same is what I shall do mesilf as soon as I finishes me smoke."

The shock, however, had been too great for all to compose their nerves at once. Jeff was the first to succ.u.mb, having faith in the a.s.surance of his friend, and Ike Hardman soon followed him in the land of dreams.

Frank and Roswell lay for a long time talking in low tones, but finally drowsiness overcame them, and with the pungent odor of Tim's pipe in their nostrils they sank into slumber, which was not broken until Jeff called to them that breakfast was waiting.

The melted snow furnished what water they needed to drink and in which to lave their faces and hands. Then, before eating, they hurried outside the tent to survey the snowy mountain that had come so near swallowing them up. They were filled with amazement when they looked upon the vast pile, amid which were observed many chunks and ma.s.ses of ice, several that must have weighed hundreds of pounds, lying on the snow within a few yards of the tent. Had one of these been precipitated against the shelter, it would have crushed the inmates, like the charge from the most enormous of our seacoast guns. It was a providential escape, indeed, for our friends, and it was no wonder that they continued to discuss it and to express their grat.i.tude to Heaven, that had mercifully s.h.i.+elded them while they slept.

Standing at Sheep Camp, they saw the summit towering thirty-five hundred feet in front, though Chilkoot Pa.s.s, which they were to follow, is five hundred feet lower. The task of climbing to the summit of this pa.s.s is of the most trying nature conceivable, and many gold-seekers have turned back in despair. Terrific weather is often encountered, and men have been held in camp for weeks, during which the crest of the mountains was hidden by clouds and tempests, and the whirling snow and sleet were so blinding that they hardly ventured to peep out from their tent. The weather was such as has baffled the most intrepid of explorers for centuries in their search for the North Pole.

Our friends were unusually fortunate in being favored with good weather, there being hardly any wind stirring, while, more wonderful than all, the sun shone from an unclouded sky, in a section where the clear days average less than seventy degrees in the course of the entire year.

No one who has ever climbed Chilkoot Pa.s.s will forget it. Some, alas!

who have made the attempt never succeeded in reaching the other side, but perished in the frightful region; while many more have become disheartened by the perils and difficulties and turned back when on the threshold of the modern El Dorado. At the foot of the pa.s.s our friends met two men, bending low with the packs strapped to their shoulders, and plodding wearily southward. Tim called to them to know what the trouble was, and received a glum answer, accompanied by an oath that they had had enough of such a country, and if they ever lived to reach New York, they would shoot any man who p.r.o.nounced the word "Klondike"

in their presence.

It is a curious fact regarding this famous pa.s.s that the snow with which it is choked is what makes it possible for travel. The snow sometimes lies to the depth of fifty or sixty feet, and from February, through May, and often June, its smooth surface allows one to walk over it without trouble. Should it be fine and yielding, the snow-shoes come into play, but when the crust is hard, no better support could be asked. The trouble lies in the steep incline, which becomes more decided the higher one climbs.

Underneath this enormous ma.s.s rush violent torrents of water, which, hollowing out pa.s.sages for themselves, leave the snow white arches far above, over which one walks upon a natural bridge. Later in the season, when the effects of the warm weather are felt, these arches begin to tumble in, and the incautious traveller who misses his footing and drops into one of the huge crevices is lost.

As has been said, the steepness increases as one approaches the top, the last five hundred feet being like the roof of a house. Bending forward under their loads, our friends often found their noses within a few inches of the snow, while ma.s.ses of rock protruding in many places added to the difficulties of travel. The combined strength of the party was required to get a single sled to the top. While one was left behind, they joined in pus.h.i.+ng and pulling the other, with frequent pauses for rest, until, after hours of the hardest work conceivable, they succeeded in reaching the summit. Then, resting again, they began their descent for the other sled. It was fortunate that the crust of the snow removed the need of using the long snow-shoes, whose make suggests the bats used in playing tennis, for the men were the only ones who knew how to handle the awkward contrivances, which would have proved a sore perplexity for Roswell and Frank.

Under some circ.u.mstances it becomes a question which is the harder, to descend or ascend a steep hill. Despite the utmost care, the whole five stumbled several times. Roswell felt the chills run through him, and he held his breath in dismay when he saw himself sliding toward the edge of a ravine, over which if he fell he would have been dashed to death on the instant. While desperately trying to check himself, he shouted for help, but it looked equally fatal for any one to venture near him, since the slope was so abrupt that he could not check himself.

Jeff Graham was carrying the coil of rope which he had loosened from the first sled, and, seeing the peril of his young friend, he flung the end toward him with the skill of a Mexican or cowboy in throwing the _rita_, or la.s.so. The youth was slipping downward on his face, with his terrified countenance turned appealingly to his friends, while he tried, by jamming his toes and clutching at the surface, to check himself, and Frank was on the point of going to his help when the end of the rope struck his shoulder and he seized it with both hands. The next minute he was drawn back to safety.

"I'm surprised wid ye," remarked Tim McCabe, when the panting youth stood among them again. "I thought ye were too tired to indulge in any such foolin'. Whin ye want to slide down hill, make use of the slid instead of your stummick."

"I don't think I'll want to do any more sliding down hill in this part of the world," replied the frightened, but grateful youth.

Once more they bent to their work, and pulling themselves together, succeeded at last in reaching the summit with the second sled, the whole party utterly used up. Even Jeff Graham sat down on one of the loads, panting and too tired to speak. When he found voice, he said:

[Ill.u.s.tration: ALL JOINED IN PUs.h.i.+NG AND PULLING ONE SLED.]

"What fools we are! And yet if I went back to 'Frisco, I'd start agin for the Klondike the next day; so I reckon we'll keep on."

No one responded, for they were so wearied that talking itself was labor.

Looking to the southwest, they could see the blue s.h.i.+mmer of the Pacific, where the Gulf of Alaska rolls its white surges against the dismal sh.o.r.es. Far in the distance a faint line against the sky showed where a steamer was probably ploughing its way to St. Michael's, with hundreds of gold-seekers on board, the van of the army that is pus.h.i.+ng toward the Klondike from the West, the South, and the East, until it would seem that even that immense region must overflow with the innumerable mult.i.tudes, drawn thither by the most resistless magnet that can make men brave peril, suffering, and death.

Turning in the opposite direction, they saw the mountain slope melting away in the great valley of the Yukon, with the trail leading through a narrow, rocky gap, and with naked granite rocks rising steeply to the partly snow-clad mountains. The party had been fortunate in completing the ascent in less than a day, when it often requires twice as long.

The first half mile of the descent was steep, when the slope becomes more gradual. The glare of the snow compelled all to use their gla.s.ses, and seven miles from the summit they reached the edge of timber, where camp was made.

Freed from all fear of descending avalanches, with plenty of food and wood for fuel, the exhausted gold-hunters lay down on their blankets, resting upon more hemlock boughs, and enjoyed the most refres.h.i.+ng sleep since leaving the steamer at Juneau. It was not until considerably after daylight that Jeff awoke and started a new fire, with which to prepare their breakfast, and when that was ready the boys were roused from slumber.

They were now within three miles of Lake Lindeman, a body of water five miles in length, and the journey was speedily made. It was on the sh.o.r.e of this lake that the party expected to build a raft or boat with which to make the long, rough voyage to the Yukon, but, to their pleased surprise, they found an old Indian, with a broad scow, anxious to transport them and their luggage to the foot of the lake. He had already secured three men and their outfits, but was able to carry the new arrivals, and Jeff was not long in making a bargain with him.