CHAPTER III FROM SEATTLE TO PYRAMID HARBOR

Late in the afternoon of the following day, the 9th of March, the travellers embarked on the "Farallon," commanded by the genial Captain Roberts. The "Farallon" was not as graceful a vessel as the Eastern steamers to which the boys were accustomed, but she appeared to be stanch and seaworthy,—qualities eminently to be desired in view of the six days' voyage of a thousand miles which lay before her.

Her decks were now thronged with hopeful Klondikers of all ages and descriptions, the majority men, though there were a few brave women who preferred roughing it with their husbands to staying behind in physical comfort, but alone. On the bow temporary stalls had been built for a score of horses intended for use in the coast towns or on the trails.

As the wharf receded David caught a glimpse of a girlish figure and a face framed in wavy light hair, among the crowd. Flora saw him at the same moment and waved her handkerchief. How pretty and winsome she looked! David vowed then and there to bring her that bear-skin at all hazards. At last, when he could[19] see her no longer, he turned toward the stateroom on the upper deck abaft the pilot-house, where his father was stowing away the brown canvas bags which contained their clothing and such small articles as they would need on the trail.

We must pass rapidly over the events of the voyage, filled though it was with experiences quite new to the Bradfords. At Victoria, the pleasant little capital of British Columbia, situated on the southern point of Vancouver Island, where the steamer remained half a day, Mr. Bradford procured two mining licenses which gave himself and David the right to locate claims in Canadian territory, cut timber, and take game and fish. These licenses cost ten dollars apiece, and no claim could be legally staked without one. Poor Roly, not having reached the required age of eighteen, could take neither license nor claim. This business completed, they wandered through the city, David securing a picture of the magnificent Parliament building then just finished.

Two days later, after passing up the sheltered Gulf of Georgia and crossing the broad, blue expanse of Queen Charlotte's Sound, the steamer entered a narrow waterway between islands on the west and the mainland of British Columbia on the east. Here the scenery was of the most bold and rugged description, reminding the travellers of the Hudson where it breaks through the Catskills. On either side rose immense mountain masses,[20] covered below to the water's edge with a virgin forest of spruce, cedar, and hemlock, while from the bleak, treeless summits the snow could sometimes be seen blowing into the air like smoke.

"What a pity," exclaimed Mr. Bradford to David and Roly, as they stood upon the deck gazing about them in admiration, "that the grandeur and beauty of this coast are so little known! We've been travelling for hours through this paradise without seeing a hotel, or a cottage, or even a log-cabin, and yet I believe it will not be long before tourists will throng to this region. Now there," said he, pointing to a level plateau on the top of a forest-covered ridge which rose a hundred feet above the water,—"there is an ideal site for a hotel. It commands a view of the strait both north and south, and of the mountains in every direction. No doubt there is a lake in that hollow beyond it, and the waterfall yonder is its outlet. I should like to spend a summer right here."

That evening they emerged into Dixon's Entrance, where the open Pacific tossed them about for several hours until they came again into the lee of islands. Morning found them at Saxman, a village of the extreme southern end of Alaska, where the "Farallon" stopped to take on a passenger.

At Ketchikan, a few miles beyond, there was a good wharf and a considerable settlement, and here the Bradfords[21] saw for the first time a raven, which the boys mistook for a crow. Here, too, they first beheld an Indian totem-pole,—a great tree-trunk carved into grotesque shapes of beast and bird, and strange caricatures of the human countenance, all of which doubtless had a significance relating to the tribe, family, and achievements of the deceased chieftain whose memory it perpetuated.

David, with the enthusiasm of an amateur, attempted to photograph this strange column, but as the day was dark and a damp snow was falling, he failed to obtain first-rate results.

At ten in the evening the lights of Wrangel, or Fort Wrangel, as it is often called, being a United States military post, came into view. Late as it was, the Bradfords decided to go ashore, for this was one of the larger Alaskan towns. The wharf was unlighted save by the steamer's lamps, but they picked their way without much difficulty. Most of the townspeople seemed to have retired, and only the saloons and dance halls showed signs of life. From these places the travellers heard the strains of a fiddle, or the worn, hard voice of some poor girl doomed to sing to a throng of rough men amid the glare of lights and the fumes of beer and bad tobacco.

There were many evidences that the gold excitement had brought a large if transient population to Wrangel. New frame buildings were in process of erection all along what appeared to be the main street, which was, however,[22] utterly impassable for any kind of wheeled vehicle, being a deep ditch far below the level of the board walk which skirted it. In this hollow what little light there was revealed logs, lumber, boats, and mud, and it was evident that at high tide the water filled it. The buildings were raised on piles to the level of the future highway.

The Bradfords followed the walk with the utmost caution, for some of the boards were missing and others were broken, and in the darkness an ankle might be sprained or a leg fractured by one false step. The boys took turns in going ahead, the leader warning those behind of holes and pitfalls.

After proceeding thus gingerly for nearly half a mile and passing several elaborate totem-poles, they found themselves well out of the business portion of the town and in the midst of a collection of tents interspersed with cheap frame structures. Here and there on tents and houses they could dimly distinguish flaming advertisements of museums and various catch-penny shows, but none of them were open at that hour. The board walk seemed to lead no farther, so the three carefully and slowly retraced their steps to the steamer, where a lively scene presented itself.

Three incandescent lights backed by a powerful reflector had been rigged on board to illumine the forward deck and hold, from which freight was being discharged[23] upon the wharf. Captain Roberts informed them that one hundred tons of freight were to be left at Wrangel, and a number of the horses and dogs.

"Ah!" said Roly, "I'm glad some of the horses are to go ashore here. They haven't had a chance to lie down since we left Seattle."

"No," said David; "and I saw two this morning so tired that they went to sleep standing up. Their eyes were shut, and their heads kept drooping, drooping, and then popping up again like Mr. Dobson's when he goes to sleep in church."

Roly laughed. "I only hope," said he, "the poor brutes will have no worse time on the trail."

Just as dawn was breaking over the town, the "Farallon" took advantage of high tide to pass through Wrangel Narrows,—a tortuous channel between low, wooded shores, where the scenery, though of a subdued character, was exceedingly beautiful. A bark and a barkentine were aground in this dangerous passage, though buoys and lighthouses were plentiful; but the steamer emerged safely in due time into broader waters, and the day passed without special incident until evening, when they had passed the latitude of Sitka, the Alaskan capital, on Baranoff Island to the west.

Not long after supper Mr. Bradford and David were reading in the stateroom and Roly was sitting on the iron grating, through which a pleasant warmth arose[24] from the engine-room, when they all heard a bumping sound and felt the steamer tremble. A second later there came another bump. Instantly bells rang and the engine stopped, while Roly jumped from the grating, and running to the bridge peered forward into the darkness. He could see nothing in that direction, nor could Mr. Bradford and David, who were quickly beside him; but the next moment a huge block of ice and several smaller fragments grazed along the steamer's side, and were dimly illuminated by her lights. Then they understood what had happened.

"She's hit one o' them small icebergs out o' Glacier Bay," they heard a man say on the deck below them. "There's many of 'em hereabouts, I'm told, but they ain't big enough to do damage."

"Not if she hits 'em square," said another voice.

Captain Roberts, however, thought it best to be cautious, especially as he had just broken the bell-wire and could only communicate with the engine-room by speaking-tube. He sent a man to the bow of the vessel to watch for ice, and ordered half-speed ahead.

In a few hours they had reached Juneau. It was so late that the Bradfords did not leave the ship, but they could see by the lights that Juneau was larger than Wrangel, and contained not a few wooden buildings of very respectable size and appearance. It was a mystery how the town could grow any more, however, except[25] straight up in the air like New York, for it was surrounded by water on two sides, and on the others by huge barriers of rock two thousand feet high. Across the strait a few straggling lights disclosed the location of Douglass City and the famous Treadwell gold mines.

The following day was mild, but the scenery became more Arctic. The steamer passed up the long inlet known as the Lynn Canal, on either side of which rose bold peaks crowned with brilliant snow. Glaciers flowed through the valleys between them,—great frozen rivers which no summer sun could melt. Of these, one of the largest and most graceful was the Davidson glacier on the western side of the strait. Ducks were seen here in countless numbers. Porpoises rolled and played about the vessel, and Roly caught sight of a seal which bobbed above the water at intervals.

As they were now nearing the end of the voyage, Mr. Bradford and the boys wrote letters to send back by the purser. Early in the afternoon the course was changed slightly to the west, and the steamer entered Pyramid Harbor, a beautiful circular sheet of water, flanked on the south by high mountains. Near its eastern side rose a pointed mound of pyramidal shape, to which the harbor owed its name.

On the southwest shore, under the shadow of the mountains, lay the little settlement, prominent in which was an extensive salmon cannery. In front of the cannery[26] two wharves projected toward the bay,—one high above the beach, designed for use at high tide; the other a slender affair, longer and lower.

"There must be very high tides here," said Mr. Bradford, observing the wharves.

"Yes," answered a tall, brown-whiskered man who stood near. "Twenty foot, if I ain't mistaken. Reminds me o' the Bay o' Fundy, only there they gen'rally build only one wharf an' give it two stories."

The boys recognized in the speaker the man whom they had heard discoursing of icebergs on the previous evening.

"The cannery doesn't seem to be running," observed Mr. Bradford.

"No," replied the other; "I b'lieve they only run it in summer. There ain't no salmon this time o' year."

Mr. Bradford told David to see that everything was ready for landing, and to bring the clothing bags out upon the deck. The steamer had blown her whistle as she entered the harbor, and two men could be seen walking down toward the end of the lower wharf. Mr. Bradford turned his field-glass upon them. Suddenly he uttered an exclamation of surprise and handed the glass to Roly.

"Do you know either of those men?" he asked.

"Why," said Roly, after he had scrutinized them a moment, "the second one looks like—no, it can't be. I declare, though, it does look like him! Yes, it is Uncle Will! But what a big beard he has!"

Pyramid Harbor, Pyramid Mountain in the Distance

[27]

David, hearing these exclamations, came running out of the stateroom, and joyfully verified the identification. There could be no doubt that Uncle Will was there, but what had brought him was more than they could conjecture.