A Claim on Klondyke. Edward Roper
took to her at once: she appeared to be of a bright and happy disposition, and not an atom like our preconceived notions of a squaw. Meade subsequently made a sketch of her in her ordinary dress.
But what charmed us greatly was, she could speak English quite understandably, and when she informed us that she was "one Metlakahtla gal," and had been trained under the eye of good Mr. Duncan, we felt we were fortunate to have her with us, and we never ceased to impress on Jim what a lucky dog he was. He seemed to think so himself—at least Fan said he did. They put up a little canvas tepee, or wigwam, near. They had brought it with them on their sled, with their entire household gear, which was not much. It consisted mostly of dried salmon which was to be their food. We added some of ours to it occasionally, and later when we killed game we shared it with them. Fan cooked for us, and we believed she religiously refrained from pilfering our food. She had certainly been well trained.
After this we had a few days clear, calm, and sunny. Pools of water formed on land amongst the rocks and tangle, and the lake-ice was awash, yet Jim assured us that we need not expect the lake to open yet, and Fan added, "By'me by we get plenty freeze once more, and, mebbe, plenty snow!"
In this latter she was mistaken: she was right about the freeze, though. Thick ice formed every night, if night it could be called. One day it blew a heavy gale: we kept under cover, wondering that our little tent was not carried bodily away.
The matter of a boat occupied our consideration. Jim had heard that two men, camped down on Tagish Lake, had a whip-saw, and were cutting lumber to sell to parties like us to build their boats with, but our only means of getting to them was by a raft. There was no timber fit for boat-building in our neighbourhood, therefore when weather permitted we chopped and rolled logs on to the ice, and lashed and pinned them together into a form we hoped would bear us safely. We built it on the ice so that when that broke up it would be afloat.
Jim and his wife helped: she was as active as a young deer, and as strong as either of us.
Two weeks passed thus. Our raft was finished, and we were waiting patiently for the ice to disappear. We had spells of very hot weather, plenty of wind, but very little rain. The sun did not set till late; by two A.M. it was up again. The growth of vegetation was amazing—grass was green, and flowers had sprung into bloom, seemingly in a few hours. A few birds were seen, robins and jays.
One evening a flock of ducks whistled over the tent. Meade sprang up, gun in hand, but too late for a shot; but next day more passed and we bagged several brace. It was evident that spring had arrived.
On May 15th Fan informed us that "Pretty soon now, my believe, ice go away." Jim had gone up a creek to try for fish; when he returned, with a string of suckers he had speared, he agreed with what Fan had said, adding that he believed next day we should "no more ice see."
It was so. When we turned out the following morning, instead of a field of rotting ice, which had all sunk we supposed, there was before our camp a lovely blue lake, sparkling and rippling in a gentle breeze, and Jim gleefully announced, "Now, bossee, you bet we go ahead aller same steamboat."
At once we loaded our raft, and we four drifted on it down the Windy Arm, Tagish Lake. It is but a narrow strip of water, this arm, more like a river. The hills on both sides are steep, the wind from the east rushes through, sometimes dangerously, but we were fortunate to have merely a fresh breeze behind us.
By towing from the shore sometimes, at others by poling, we contrived on the third day to reach the lake, and here we were lucky enough to find not only the men we had heard were cutting lumber there, but that they had just finished a boat which they could sell to us.
These men welcomed us very heartily: they told us we were the first party on the way since the previous autumn. They had run out of tobacco.
The boat they had to sell was not built for either speed or beauty, but we saw it was the very thing for us—it would carry us well with our heavy load to Dawson City. We agreed to their price, which was naturally high, and before we turned in that night we had stowed our goods on board her, and were ready to begin our journey in earnest. We had received a good bit of information about it from these men, who had been often up and down the Yukon. We left them a little happier for our visit, for we had supplied them with a few stores, and notably with tobacco.
We sailed off cheerfully next morning down Lake Tagish. At the mouth of Windy Arm are islands and high mountains—one superb dome-shaped giant stands alone.
We trolled that day, and caught one large fish like a salmon—it probably was a land-locked one. Its flesh was white and absolutely tasteless, but Jim and Fan considered it was prime. We made a lovely camp that night on an island near shore.
It took us till the following afternoon to get down this lake. We saw no human beings, but along the sluggish river which joins it to Lake Marsh we passed Tagish House, and there was a group of Indians at which Jim and Fan were terribly alarmed, declaring that if they were seen they would be killed by them, for it appears that war between the Tagishes and the Sticks, which our two were, is perpetual.
Accordingly we gave these Indians a wide berth. Tagish House is but a rough log affair. Yet it is famous, for it is not only the place the tribe meets at annually for its council and festival, but it is the only permanent building in all that country.
Passing down for half-a-dozen miles, we entered Lake Marsh, which occupies a broad valley with high mountains on the east. It is about two miles wide. Traversing it, we got all the wildfowl and the fish we could consume. We lived sumptuously. The journey took us two days.
Fan and Jim were always bright and cheery, and ready to lend a hand; they were good companions, and were uncommonly good specimens of Indians. One particularly good thing about them was that Fan had been taught the use of soap at Metlakahtla, and she had taught her husband; so they were, wonder of wonders, clean Indians!
The foot of Marsh Lake we found to be low and swampy; the sleughs appeared to be full of ducks and musk-rats—also of mosquitos!
We certainly expected these last. We had suffered from them in Manitoba and in other parts of Canada; we supposed we knew what we had to contend with, but we did not.
Fortunately we had brought some mosquito netting, which we rigged up in our tent, so that, inside, we had a trifle of peace; but when travelling or moving outside, it was impossible to protect ourselves, and we experienced untold misery. Our Indians suffered quite as much as we did, and complained as loudly. They lit fires inside their tepee, filling it with pungent smoke, through which they slept contented; but we could not stand that.
I may here say that from this time on, with very rare exceptions, we were simply tortured by mosquitos. We passed through many hardships, had innumerable physical difficulties to contend with during that summer and winter, but they are all forgotten, or regarded as mere trifles, and one phase of misery is vividly recorded on my memory: it is the ceaseless torment of those infernal gnats. They are the cause of the worst suffering that people must submit to in that country: winter's cold, summer's heat, even hunger, are not to be compared to this awful pest.
For instance, you are tramping with a load upon your back, your hands are full carrying tools or packages, the sun is blistering hot, the perspiration is pouring off you in streams, yet all the time the ubiquitous mosquitos are engaging your closest attention; your eyes, your ears, your nostrils, all your most sensitive spots, are their favourite feeding-grounds. You are helpless, you suffer agony, and you often feel that life itself is next thing to a curse. We have seen hardy, rough men shed tears of impotent anger at these innumerable, invisible, relentless enemies. Dogs and men, cattle and wild beasts, deer especially, and even bears, are their victims.
Frequently we were so swollen about our necks that we could hardly turn our heads, and our wrists were so enlarged that our wristbands were useless. We tried tobacco juice, turpentine, lamp-oil, but nothing gave us relief. Truly the mosquitos of the Yukon hold the record as tormentors.
Lake Marsh is twenty miles long. It then narrows, and for nearly thirty miles we followed the course of the river, which is the Lewes. The current is about three miles