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THE GREAT GOLD RUSH

A Tale of the Klondike


[Illustration: cover]

       *       *       *       *       *

FIRST EDITION       April, 1913
Reprinted        November, 1913

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THE GREAT GOLD RUSH

A Tale of the Klondike

by

W. H. P. JARVIS

Author of "Letters of a Remittance Man"







Toronto
The Macmillan Co. of Canada,
Limited
1913




  TO

  COLONEL SAMUEL BENFIELD STEELE
  C.B., M.V.O., A.D.C.

  ONE TIME OFFICER COMMANDING
  THE
  NORTH-WEST MOUNTED POLICE IN THE
  YUKON TERRITORY

  THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED
  AS A
  TOKEN OF AFFECTIONATE REGARD




PREFACE


There is a freemasonry among Klondikers which rules that no tales shall
be told out of school. If, therefore, this were an historical novel, if
I were telling tales and seeking to escape censure by the subterfuge of
changing names, I could hardly succeed. Let me take the case of Poo-Bah,
for instance. The reader with a knowledge of the early days of Dawson
accepting the story as historical, would fix as the original any one of
half a dozen men indecently caricatured. But if he is told the character
is a composite one, that it is the personification of Dawson graft, or,
in other words, that it is the sum of a merger, he will understand and,
I think, make no complaint.

Otherwise the story may be accepted as the author's best effort to
convey a true account of the different phases of the world's most
remarkable stampede. The stories of corruption among the officials in
Dawson are those which a visitor would have heard on every hand, and at
the present time there are many old-timers in the Yukon who will tell
tales similar to the incidents I have introduced in my story.

When one of my characters speaks of the Dawson officials as petty
larceny thieves and highway robbers, it is to be understood to be a
sample of the phraseology in vogue at the time.

The different types of prospector I have attempted to portray are those
I have met, lived with, and mixed with. Should it appear I have given
too much space to the humble economies of the miner's life, I shall
advance as my excuse the lack of our literature in this particular.

I have also made a humble attempt to establish the respectability of the
miner. So much has been written to compromise him, and so many
imaginations have drawn lurid pictures of his morals, I feel it his due.

In a general way the reader may accept anything in my story which has
none other than an historical interest as being accurate.

I am indebted to the Rev. Archdeacon Macdonald, now of Winnipeg, for the
story of his first discovery of gold. For the story of the discovery of
Franklin Gulch I am indebted to Mr. William Hartz, who also furnished
the accounts of the finding of gold in the Stewart River. These accounts
have never before been written.

                                                             W. H. P. J.

TORONTO, CANADA.
  _January_ 1913.




                  CONTENTS


  CHAPTER                            PAGE

        I. THE FORTUNE-SEEKERS.         1
       II. JOHN BERWICK                11
      III. THE BEGINNING OF YUKON      21
       IV. SOCIETY IN ALASKA           30
        V. SOAPY'S LITTLE GAME         38
       VI. HITTING THE TRAIL           48
      VII. HUGH'S PHILOSOPHY           62
     VIII. OVER THE SUMMIT             71
       IX. STORM AND STRESS            80
        X. AN EMPIRE'S OUTPOST         90
       XI. ANOTHER PASS                95
      XII. A NEW PARTNER              107
     XIII. THE DANCE                  115
      XIV. A LONG SHOT                126
       XV. REVELATION                 133
      XVI. A STREAM OF HISTORY        137
     XVII. DAWSON                     149
    XVIII. POO-BAH!                   158
      XIX. GRAFT                      170
       XX. A LOTTERY                  182
      XXI. THE PEELS' HOSPITAL        194
     XXII. THE LAST STRAW             201
    XXIII. REVOLUTION                 214
     XXIV. WITHIN THE BARRACKS        223
      XXV. RECRUITING                 230
     XXVI. LOCATED                    236
    XXVII. THE WOOD-PILE              244
   XXVIII. A COUNCIL OF WAR           251
     XXIX. STONY GROUND               257
      XXX. ON THE SCENT               265
     XXXI. AN ODIOUS DILEMMA          274
    XXXII. A DERELICT                 280
   XXXIII. TRIBUTE                    286
    XXXIV. NO SURRENDER               294
     XXXV. THE MAN WITH THE POUCH     299
    XXXVI. AFTER THE CRISIS           307
   XXXVII. OIL ON TROUBLED WATERS     313
  XXXVIII. REUNION                    319
    XXXIX. RETROSPECTION              325
       XL. THE HAPPY ENDING           331




THE GREAT GOLD RUSH




CHAPTER I

THE FORTUNE-SEEKERS


Those who join the stampede to a new goldfield may generally be divided
into two classes, the tenderfoot and the old-timer; otherwise, the
novice and the experienced prospector.

The novice joins the stampede because he catches the "fever"--dreams
dreams. The old-timer goes because the diggings he had last worked in
proved of little good.

Were the sea-dogs of old--Drake, Raleigh, or Frobisher--born into the
world to-day, their spirit would surely have impelled them to the mining
camp, to seek fortune in the mountain fastnesses, and to wager years of
effort on the chance of wresting from Nature her treasure stores.

On the steamship _Aleutian_, as she lay in the dock at Vancouver,
British Columbia, one day in the March of 1898, there were many
tenderfeet and a few old-timers. Amongst the experienced was John
Berwick. About him surged the steamship's host of passengers, waving
their arms, and yelling answers to the cheer that went up from the great
crowd upon the dock-side.

He and his fellows were bound for the Klondike goldfields. Before them
lay adventures, toil, and danger; the adventurous will ever draw the
tributes of goodwill from the multitude staying at home.

The air was chill and damp; and the increased speed of the steamer as
she passed from the harbour accentuated the effect of the breeze that
blew against her, so that Berwick felt cold. He shivered, and half
turned towards the door across the promenade; but the wavelets, flying
by in their half-blue, half-grey ripples, fascinated him, and he
lingered. Suddenly he was aroused--a hand was on his shoulder, and he
heard a familiar voice say,

"Hullo, old chum!"

John swung round. He looked into the smiling face of his old-time
mining-mate, George Bruce.

"George, by all the gods!" he cried. "Are you bound for the diggings,
too?"

"Yes, and mighty glad to find an old mate. I told you, when you left
Coolgardie, that you wouldn't stand civilization long, but had no idea
of running across you in this rush."

The two turned and entered the saloon together. Neither mentioned it,
but each knew that in the adventures before them their efforts and their
fortunes would be joined. In the language of the Australian, they were
mates, or, in the vernacular of their new surroundings, "partners."

George Bruce was tall and athletic, with golden hair. He was a jovial
soul, blessed with a body of activity. He would go for the hardest work
in a cheery way, and during the social hours of evening was the best of
company. He was as liberal with his money and means as he was of
good-nature.

The saloon was crowded with men, drifting about, staring at all they
met, or talking in groups. On the lower deck dogs could be heard
barking. The ship was tense with an atmosphere of excitement.

Berwick and his "pardner" went by a companion-way to the lower deck,
where they found a passage-way to the fore-part of the ship, and so came
to the presence of the canine choir. Big dogs and little dogs, of every
breed and colour, were there. All grades of canine society were
represented, from the big and well-fed St. Bernard to the mongrel snared
in the slums. Dogs were a safe investment in the towns on the Pacific
Coast of North America, and unscrupulous humanity was actively at work
capturing them and getting them there.

The portion of the deck to which the dogs were relegated was also set
apart for the baggage, which was piled in heaps in the middle. A dozen
men were diving into kit-bags, extracting necessary articles or packing
them away. The inspiration of the last few minutes in Vancouver had
prompted many to purchase odds and ends which had been forgotten in the
general outfitting.

A tall, angular man was attending to three dogs of an uncommon breed.
Two of them were practically of the same size, which was that of an
ordinary collie; the third was not so large. All had the same markings,
black with tan about the face and neck, and a show