To Alaska for Gold; Or, The Fortune Hunters of the Yukon
Page 31
CHAPTER XXVIII.
SNOWED IN.
Although everything in the gulch was frozen up, it must not be supposedthat mining there came to an end. While it was true no more washingcould be done that season, there was dirt, gravel, and sand to be heapedin convenient spots, ready for the first run of water in the spring.
At one end of the claims there was a bank which had been examined byFoster Portney and found to contain very rich pay dirt, and this bankwas now attacked by all hands and the dirt brought out to the nearestsluice box. To thaw the ground a fire was built up against the bankevery night and allowed to burn until morning. Even in extremely coldweather this thawed the bank to a depth of several feet, and when theyhad scooped out a hole which resembled a baker's oven the thawing-outprocess was still more effectual.
But it was hard and bitter work at the best, and as the cold increased,Fred found he could not stand it, and had to remain in the cabin thegreater part of the time, coming out only during the middle of the day.
"This cold gets into the marrow of a fellow's bones," he said to Randy."I don't see how you can put up with it."
"Earl and I were used to pretty tough weather up in the Maine woods, asyou know," replied Randy. "I guess an out-and-out city chap would freezestiff before he had been here a week. The thermometer was down to sixbelow zero this morning."
The cold had cut off their water supply, and every drop for drinking orcooking had to be obtained by melting ice on the stove. To keep them infuel, all hands spent four days up in the woods cutting timber, whichwas allowed to dry out for two weeks, and was then hauled over to theedge of the cliff and tumbled down to a spot between their cabin andthat of their nearest neighbor, two hundred feet away.
By Foster Portney's advice another trip was made by him and Earl to theYukon River in search of fish for winter use, for fish could now be keptby simply being frozen in a chunk of ice and laid away. The two foundthe ice on the Yukon over two feet thick, and had to cut fishing-holeswith an axe they had brought along for that purpose. They spent a day onthe river, fishing and spearing, and were rewarded with a catch of overfifty pounds. Earl had brought the shot-gun, and to the fish were addeda dozen small sea-fowl, which were caught on the wing while flyingsouthward.
"We had better be getting back," observed Foster Portney, early on thefollowing morning. "Unless I am greatly mistaken we shall have a heavyfall of snow by to-night."
As they did not wish to be caught in a storm, they started on the returnto the gulch as rapidly as their loads would permit. They were still inthe woods when the first flakes began to fall. With the coming of thesnow the wind began to rise, shaking the bare limbs above them savagelyand causing a lively tumble of dead branches on every side. Not tobecome stormbound, they increased their pace, reaching the lower end ofthe gulch by six o'clock in the evening. They could hardly see beforethem, so thickly did the flakes come down, and both consideredthemselves fortunate in having struck familiar ground. By the time thecabin was reached the snow was six inches deep.
"We thought you'd be snowed under!" cried Randy, as he opened the doorto let them in. He had been watching anxiously since the snow began tofall. "It's going to be an awful night."
He was right; it was an awful night--more so than any of them hadanticipated. After a hot supper they retired to their bunks to sleep,only to be aroused about midnight by the roar of the wind as it torethrough the woods and along the gulch with the force of a hurricane. Thesnow was coming down "in chunks," as Randy put it, and mingled with itwere tree branches, small brush, and dried tundra. In one corner of thecabin the wind had found a crack about six inches long and less than asixteenth of an inch wide, and through this crack the snow had siftedover the entire floor.
"Jerusalem! the roof is coming down!" cried Earl, when they had been upa few minutes, and while his uncle was stuffing a piece of cloth in thecrack mentioned. There was a great noise overhead as the hurricane toreaway the top joint of the stovepipe. Through the opening poured a lot ofsnow, which, falling on the hot stove, sent up a cloud of steam. To stopthe snow from coming in, Foster Portney climbed up on the top of thetable and nailed a bit of a board over the hole.
"We can't have that stovepipe up there, that's certain," he said. "We'llhave to stick it out of the side window. It won't look very elegant, butI reckon we're not keeping house on looks up here." And by their unitedefforts the stove was swung around in front of the little window, andthe upper end of what was left of the pipe was twisted around andpointed outside, after one of the small window panes had been taken out.Around the pipe Mr. Portney fitted a square sheet of tin, obtained froman empty tomato can. Then the floor was cleared of snow and the firestarted up afresh.
The hurricane, or blizzard, lasted until six o'clock in the morning, andduring that time nobody thought of going to sleep again. The cabinshook and rocked, and had it not been for the shelter of the cliff wouldhave gone to pieces. The snow kept piling higher and higher until itthreatened to cut off the smokepipe again.
"Perhaps we'll have to swing the stove around to the front," said FosterPortney. "We can let the pipe out near the roof, and build a little hoodover it, so that the snow from the cliff can blow right over into thegulch." And later on this was done.
"This will stop work in the gulch," said Randy. "It's too bad! What onearth are we going to do with ourselves from now until next spring?"
"We'll try to keep alive and well, Randy," returned Mr. Portney,seriously. "Remember, from now on comes the tug-of-war, as the oldsaying goes."
But work was not over, as Randy had surmised. To be sure, when the stormceased at noon it was found the snow was nearly three feet deep on thelevel. But a day's labor sufficed to beat down a path to the bank in thegulch, and once again the fires were started and the work of getting thedirt to the sluice boxes resumed. The clearing of the storm had left itstinging cold, and all were glad enough to hustle lively in order tokeep warm. They worked with their overcoats on and with their feetencased in several pairs of woollen socks, and even then spent much timearound the fire, "thawing out," to use Randy's words.
The work in the bank, however, paid them well. Four days after the fallof snow, Foster Portney struck several rocks to one side of the rise andlocated another pocket of nuggets. They were all small fellows, thelargest about the size of a hickory nut, but the nuggets numbered nearlyhalf a hundred and caused a good deal of excitement.
"It's another fifteen hundred or two thousand dollars to our credit,"said Mr. Portney. "And not only that, but this dirt is as rich as thattaken from the pocket over yonder. We haven't struck a million, but weare doing remarkably well."
"I wonder how Captain Zoss and Dr. Barwaithe are making out," said Earl.They had not heard from their former partners for nearly a month, when aminer had brought word to the effect that they had just located a claimon a gulch heading into Hunker Creek, the third strike since leavingMosquito Hollow.
"I imagine they are not doing any better than we are," replied hisuncle. "If they were, we should have heard of it. It may pay to strikearound, more or less, but I believe in giving a claim a fair trialbefore abandoning it."
Less than a week later it began to snow again. The sky was heavy, andeven at midday it did not brighten up. They had gone down to the gulchdirectly after breakfast, but now returned to the cabin, to fix up thestovepipe as previously mentioned, and to cut enough small wood to lastfor several weeks. All were hard at work when they saw two white men andtwo Indians approaching, the latter driving before them two dog teamsattached to a pair of Alaskan sledges, piled high with miners' outfits.The two men were Dr. Barwaithe and Captain Zoss.
"It's a sight good fer sore eyes to see ye ag'in!" exclaimed thecaptain, as he shook hands with Mr. Portney and the boys. "I couldn'tkeep away no longer. How are ye all?"
"We are very well," said Foster Portney. "How have you been doing?"
"Only fairly well," answered the doctor. "To tell the truth, I don'tthink it paid to strike out. We have a little
dust, but no more, Iimagine, than we should have had had we remained with you."
The pair had come over to see if they could not arrange to remain at thecabin through the winter, fearing that they would find it very lonesomeif they went off by themselves. They had brought along all their things,including a stock of provisions, and were willing to pay whatever wasfair in addition. As their company would no doubt prove very acceptableduring the long, cheerless days to come, they were taken in withoutquestion.
"We can put up two more bunks somewhere," said Foster Portney. "Andthough we may be rather crowded, I reckon we'll manage it." He had takena great fancy to the doctor, and was pleased to think he would not haveto depend altogether on the boys for companionship. As for the boys,Randy declared that the presence of the jovial captain would make everyday seem several hours shorter. Fred, whose story had been told insecret, also took to the newcomers, and all together they formed a happyfamily.
But the height of the winter was now on them, and it was destined tokeep its grip for many long weeks and months to come. The storm that hadstarted on the day the doctor and the captain arrived kept up with moreor less vigor for a week, and by that time they found themselves snowedin completely. The thermometer kept going down steadily, registering aslow as fifteen degrees below zero, and on more than one occasion thepail of water standing up against the side of the stove was frozensolid. To keep thoroughly warm was impossible, even though they wrappedthemselves in all the clothing and blankets their outfits afforded.