CHAPTER IV THE FIRST CAMP

The "Farallon" was slowly and carefully brought to the end of the lower wharf, though the water was so shallow that her screw stirred up the mud.

Roly and David signalled with their caps and soon attracted Uncle Will's attention, and that gentleman waved his arms delightedly the moment he saw them. Meanwhile the cannery watchman had made fast the steamer's bow and stern lines, the latter to the piling of the higher wharf, and the other to a large rock on the beach. A few minutes later the Bradfords had jumped ashore, and the crew had piled their sleds, provisions, and belongings of all kinds in a promiscuous heap on the wharf. They were the only passengers to disembark there, for the Dalton trail was little used. The "Farallon" presently drew in her lines and backed away with a parting blast of her whistle, to continue her voyage a few miles farther up Lynn Canal to the head of navigation, whither the rest of her passengers were bound, some intending to go to the Klondike by the White Pass trail from Skagway, and others preferring the Chilkoot trail from Dyea.

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"I didn't expect to find you here, Will," said Mr. Bradford, as he warmly grasped his brother's hand, "but I'm all the more glad to see you."

"And I'm delighted to be here to welcome you, Charles. I'll tell you how it happened when we have a moment to spare. You've brought the boys, I see. That's right. They'll enjoy the life, and it'll do them good. Why, I hardly knew David here, he's grown so tall! We'll soon have some tan on that pale face of his. As for Roly," and he eyed that healthy specimen of a boy, "about all he seems to need is hard labor and a bread-and-water diet."

Roly laughed, for he saw the twinkle in his uncle's eye, and had no fears that such a course of training would be inflicted,—or at least the bread-and-water part of it.

"Is that good mother of yours well, Roly, and the little girl?" asked Uncle Will.

"Yes," said Roly.

"And how about the 'Maine?'" continued his uncle, turning to Mr. Bradford. "I have just heard that she has been blown up at Havana. Shall we have a war?"

"I hope not," said Mr. Bradford. "It may happen, but such a contest wouldn't last long."

Uncle Will was of the same opinion. "And now," said he, taking command of the little party by the tacit consent of all, since he best knew what was to be done,[30] "let us throw off our coats and carry these goods to a place of safety. The tide has turned and will soon cover the end of this wharf. We must get everything up to the level of the cannery buildings. This is a country of work,—good hard honest labor, of which no man need be ashamed."

So saying, he stripped off his outer coat and, throwing it over a post, picked up a fifty-pound bag of flour and swung it lightly across one shoulder, calling to his brother to place a second bag on the other. Having thus obtained his hundred-pound load, he started up the incline to the cannery. Mr. Bradford now followed him, David swinging up the second bag to his father's shoulder. David took a single bag, finding that he could not manage two, and Roly staggered along with another. On the next trip Mr. Bradford advised Roly to bring a bag of dried apricots, which was lighter, and thus, each carrying what he could, all the supplies were at length stowed safely above high-water mark.

"Next," said Uncle Will, as he resumed his coat and wiped the perspiration from his forehead, "we must have these goods taken over to my camping-place on the west shore of the harbor. Suppose you boys stand guard while your father and I see if we can get a boat. All you'll have to do will be to keep the Indian dogs away from the bacon."

The boys assented to this proposal, and the two men[31] walked away in the direction of the Indian village, which lay not far from the cannery toward the harbor's mouth, where the watchman said they might find a canoe.

They had been gone but a few minutes when several Indian men and boys approached, dressed in the clothing of civilization, but quite ragged withal, followed by a number of wolfish dogs, which lost no time in running up to the pile of provisions as soon as they scented the meat. David promptly sent a snowball at the largest cur with such good effect that he beat a hasty retreat, while the others, seeing his flight and hearing his howls, for the snowball had struck him in the nose, slunk away and sat down at a respectful distance to await developments.

The Indians now came up and with much curiosity began to inspect the goods. They seemed to take no offence at the treatment of the dogs, much to the relief of the boys, who half expected they would consider it a declaration of hostilities.

"Me Chilkat Indian," said one of the older men, addressing David and pointing to himself.

David nodded to show that he understood.

"Where you go?" asked the Indian.

David did not know that the place to which they were bound had any name, but he remembered how his uncle had dated his letter, so he said, "Rainy Hollow."

"Ugh!" grunted the Indian. "Rainy Hollow there," and he pointed to the north. "You go get gold?"

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"Yes," said David.

"Me go too?"

"I don't know," replied David. "Ask my father." He motioned toward a large black two-masted canoe which now made its appearance from the direction of the village. One of the natives and Uncle Will were paddling, while Mr. Bradford was sitting in the stern and steering.

The Indian turned and scrutinized the craft. "Chief's canoe," said he. "Him chief's son."

The canoe, which was quite an elaborate affair, built of wood, with a high projecting prow and stern, was presently brought alongside the wharf, the end of which was already submerged by the rising tide. The occupants jumped out, and the Indian tied the painter to the piling.

"Now, boys," shouted Uncle Will, "off with your coats again, and we'll soon have the goods on board."

They had hardly begun the work when the old Indian approached Uncle Will and renewed his plea, but the white man shook his head and said, "Plenty Indian. Long Peter go." Which lingo the old fellow understood perfectly.

Large as the canoe was, when all the goods were on board, together with the three men and the boys, it was down nearly to the water's edge. There was no wind, however, and the course lay near the shore under the shelter of the mountains.

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"There," said Uncle Will, in a tone of relief, as he resumed his paddle, "now we shall be clear of the dogs. They're a great nuisance wherever there's an Indian settlement. I've no doubt they would have kept us awake all night here prowling around the supplies."

"Where are we to camp?" asked David.

"Look along there on the west beach," replied his uncle. "You can see my tent now. It's about half a mile away."

The boys looked with interest at the spot which was to be their first camping-place. Behind the tent was a dark spruce forest which spread back nearly on a level for a short distance, and then mounted the steep, snowy slopes of the mountains. Before long the canoe grated against the small stones near the beach, the Indian jumped out regardless of the water, and carried Uncle Will and then the boys ashore on his back. Uncle Will went at once to his tent, and soon reappeared wearing long rubber boots. Mr. Bradford passed the goods out from the canoe, Uncle Will and the Indian carried them ashore, and there David and Roly received them and took them up the beach above the high-tide mark of driftwood and seaweed. When this work had been accomplished, the Indian was paid and dismissed and was soon paddling back to the settlement.

"Now, boys," said Mr. Bradford, "do you know how to pitch your tent?"

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"No," said David, "but we'd like to try it. I guess we can manage it after a few trials. Our tent is like Uncle Will's, isn't it?"

"Yes," replied Mr. Bradford. "You can study on that awhile, or watch me pitch mine."

"There's no need of getting yours out at all, Charles, unless you want to," put in his brother. "My Indian has his own tent back there in the woods, and you can bunk with me."

So it was decided that only the boys' tent should be raised, and they set about it at once, while their father cut some dry spruce boughs on which to pile the supplies.

On examining their uncle's tent they found that it consisted of two parts,—the main tent, really a complete tent in itself and rendered mosquito-proof by having a floor of canvas continuous with the walls, and an entrance which could be tightly closed by a puckering string; and, secondly, the fly or extra roof above the tent proper. Ventilation was obtained by openings covered with mosquito netting at the peak in front and rear.

The tent stood on the beach between the line of snow and the high-tide mark. Underneath it, on the stones, was a thick layer of small spruce boughs. There was no possibility of driving stakes into the stony ground, and the guy-ropes were tied around a prostrate tree-trunk on each side, these side logs being about five inches in diameter and fifteen feet long. There was a straight and[35] slender ridgepole, to which the roof-ropes were attached, and this ridgepole rested upon two crotched poles at each end of the tent, set wide apart with the crotched ends uppermost and interlocked.

After noting all these things, the boys sought out their tent from the pile of goods and unrolled it to get some idea of its size. They found that it was much smaller than their uncle's tent and had no walls, the roof part sloping to the ground and connecting directly with the floor.

"We won't need such long poles as Uncle's tent has," said David, "nor such heavy side logs either. Suppose you cut a lot of spruce boughs to put underneath, and I'll cut the poles and logs."

Roly assented at once, and the two set off for the woods with their hatchets. There was abundance of spruce, but David had considerable difficulty in finding saplings or bushes which would afford crotched poles of the proper size. He found it a slow and laborious task, too, when he attempted to cut down two larger trees for the side or anchor poles, and was finally obliged to return to the camp for an axe,—a tool which Mr. Bradford let him have with some misgivings and many words of caution. Having succeeded in cutting the poles and spruce boughs, they were obliged to make several trips back and forth before all the material was brought to the beach, the deep snow greatly impeding their progress.

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As they were starting out for the last time, a tall young Indian, with cheeks more plump than an Indian's usually are, shuffled along toward them on snow-shoes, drawing a long sled loaded with wood. He smiled good-naturedly when he saw them.

"Me Long Peter," said he,—"Chilkat Injun. Go with Mr. B'adford. You go with Mr. B'adford?"

"Yes," replied David, who concluded that this was the Indian his uncle had mentioned. So the three returned to camp together.

Savory odors were now wafted about from the camp-fire where Uncle Will was getting supper, and the boys hastened their work in order to be ready when he called. They succeeded in untangling the tent-ropes, and after a few mistakes and frequent examinations of the larger tent, their own little dwelling was set up near the other, on a soft bed of fragrant spruce. Then with a piece of soap and a towel from one of the clothing bags they went down to the water's edge to wash.

Presently Uncle Will shouted, "Muck-muck!" and the boys looked around inquiringly to see what he meant. "Supper-r!" he called in the same cheery tone. There was no mistaking the meaning of that, and the little party speedily gathered around the fire, where Uncle Will informed them that "Muck-muck" was the Indian term for "Something to eat," and was generally adopted on the trail as a call to meals.

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The aluminum plates and cups were handed around, and Uncle Will distributed crisp bacon and potato and rice, while Mr. Bradford opened a box of hard-tack. David meanwhile made himself useful by filling the cups with coffee, and passing the sugar and condensed milk. As for Long Peter and Roly, finding nothing better to do, they attacked the viands at once with appetites sharpened by labor.

"I declare!" exclaimed Mr. Bradford, as soon as he too was ready, "I haven't been so hungry since I was a boy in the Adirondacks. What memories the smell of that bacon calls up!"

He took a seat on a log which Roly had drawn up before the fire, and presently called for a second helping.

"That's right, Charles," said his brother. "It does me good to see you eat like that. Well, well! the boys are ready for more, too. I see I shall have to fry another mess of bacon. Never mind, though! That means just so much less to carry on the trail." And their good-natured cook forthwith cut off half a dozen generous slices with his hunting knife and soon served them crisp and hot.

When the meal was finished, the dishes washed by Long Peter, and fresh wood piled on the fire, Uncle Will deftly lighted his pipe with a glowing ember, then turned to the others, who had comfortably seated themselves around the crackling logs, and declared his readiness to explain his presence at Pyramid Harbor.