E-text prepared by Al Haines
by
Author of The Son of The Wolf, The Call of the Wild,The People of the Abyss, etc.
With Illustrations by Frederick C. Yohn
Grosset & Dunlap
Publishers—New York
1902
"All ready, Miss Welse, though I'm sorry we can't spare one of thesteamer's boats."
Frona Welse arose with alacrity and came to the first officer's side.
"We're so busy," he explained, "and gold-rushers are such perishablefreight, at least—"
"I understand," she interrupted, "and I, too, am behaving as though Iwere perishable. And I am sorry for the trouble I am giving you,but—but—" She turned quickly and pointed to the shore. "Do yousee that big log-house? Between the clump of pines and the river? Iwas born there."
"Guess I'd be in a hurry myself," he muttered, sympathetically, as hepiloted her along the crowded deck.
Everybody was in everybody else's way; nor was there one who failed toproclaim it at the top of his lungs. A thousand gold-seekers wereclamoring for the immediate landing of their outfits. Each hatchwaygaped wide open, and from the lower depths the shrieking donkey-engineswere hurrying the misassorted outfits skyward. On either side of thesteamer, rows of scows received the flying cargo, and on each of thesescows a sweating mob of men charged the descending slings and heavedbales and boxes about in frantic search. Men waved shipping receiptsand shouted over the steamer-rails to them. Sometimes two and threeidentified the same article, and war arose. The "two-circle" and the"circle-and-dot" brands caused endless jangling, while every whipsawdiscovered a dozen claimants.
"The purser insists that he is going mad," the first officer said, ashe helped Frona Welse down the gangway to the landing stage, "and thefreight clerks have turned the cargo over to the passengers and quitwork. But we're not so unlucky as the Star of Bethlehem," he reassuredher, pointing to a steamship at anchor a quarter of a mile away. "Halfof her passengers have pack-horses for Skaguay and White Pass, and theother half are bound over the Chilcoot. So they've mutinied andeverything's at a standstill."
"Hey, you!" he cried, beckoning to a Whitehall which hovered discreetlyon the outer rim of the floating confusion.
A tiny launch, pulling heroically at a huge tow-barge, attempted topass between; but the boatman shot nervily across her bow, and just ashe was clear, unfortunately, caught a crab. This slewed the boataround and brought it to a stop.
"Watch out!" the first officer shouted.
A pair of seventy-foot canoes, loaded with outfits, gold-rushers, andIndians, and under full sail, drove down from the counter direction.One of them veered sharply towards the landing stage, but the otherpinched the Whitehall against the barge. The boatman had unshipped hisoars in time, but his small craft groaned under the pressure andthreatened to collapse. Whereat he came to his feet, and in short,nervous phrases consigned all canoe-men and launch-captains to eternalperdition. A man on the barge leaned over from above and baptized himwith crisp and crackling oaths, while the whites and Indians in thecanoe laughed derisively.
"Aw, g'wan!" one of them shouted. "Why don't yeh learn to row?"
The boatman's fist landed on the point of his critic's jaw and dr