CHAPTER XVI
DECLARING WAR ON UNCLE SAM
The broad lower reaches of the Cantwell River, the perfect weather, thesmoothly flowing current had made the couple of days prior to thefinding of the gold almost a pleasure trip and compensated to Roger forthe hardship through which he had gone in the rapids above. But oneevening, while at supper, one of the men suddenly smacked the top of onehand with the palm of the other, then held it out silently forinspection. On it was a small mosquito such as are seen in thousandsduring the summer all over America.
"They've come, then," was the only remark, "but it's early for themyet."
"What is it, just a mosquito?" asked Roger.
"Just a mosquito," repeated Gersup, with a curious inflection in hisvoice, "just a poor innocent mosquito."
"Do you have many of them up here?" asked the boy, struck by the note ofsatire in the topographer's voice.
"Yes, we do," he replied curtly.
"Many of them?" put in Magee. "Why, a week from now you can wave a pintpot over your head and catch a quart of mosquitoes in it, and a monthfrom now we'll have to cut our way through them with an ax."
"Oh, come off, now," said Roger, laughing.
"Laugh all you want to," continued the Irishman, "but it's a fact. Why,when they were building the Yukon railroad, during the months of Julyand August as the men went to work, they had to send the snow plow aheadof the gang in the morning in order to break a way through the banks ofmosquitoes, and sometimes they had to put two engines behind theplow--make a double-header of it."
"Pretty good yarn, Magee," said the boy, "but if they're no worse thanthat I guess I can stand it."
Here Rivers broke in. "You will do well if you do stand it," he said,"because Magee is not so very far out. You will hardly believe it, but Iwould rather face a country of hostile Indians than hostile mosquitoes.That little mosquito you saw to-night means hundreds to-morrow,thousands the next day, and from that until cold weather hundreds ofthousands all the time. Magee isn't exaggerating much, because BaronMunchausen would find it hard to do the Alaskan mosquitoes justice, whenthey get busy."
"Are they especially venomous, then?" the boy asked, growing serious.
"No, but they are especially numerous. Many a man has gone mad on thetrail because he had no protection from them. That, practically, wipedout of existence one of the largest gold-hunting parties that ever cameto Alaska."
"Tell us about it, Mr. Rivers," urged Roger.
"Well, I will," the chief replied, "if it is only to give you a duerespect for your enemies. This party of which I am speaking had landedon Kotzebue Sound, and having heard of an alleged Indian trail to theKoyukuk, somewhere near the Selawik River, and having found out besidethat it was tundra and flat, they thought it would be easy traveling."
Here Magee chuckled audibly at the idea of tundra being easy going.
"It wasn't long," went on the chief, not noticing the interruption,"before they reached the tundra and discovered that it was scarcely aspleasant as they thought. Walking on tundra is like, is like,--tell himwhat it's like, Magee."
"It's like walking over slippery footballs half-sunk in slime," said theIrishman promptly.
"Well, that will do," said Rivers. "Any way, they were tramping overthis and losing heart fast when the mosquitoes began. They had nothingwith them which would serve to keep off the insects, and some of theparty were stung so fearfully that a superficial form of blood poisoningset in. Others, unable to endure the torture night and day, killedthemselves; others again went insane and became violent; of that largeparty but two returned to the coast, one who by some freak of nature wasimmune, and his chum, who had become half-witted by the experience."
"You bet," commented the topographer, "the Alaskan mosquito is a matterto be taken very seriously."
In spite of the general opinion so strongly expressed, Roger felt alittle scornful about being bothered with a few pesky mosquitoes, and hewas inclined to think it an utterly foolish precaution when he was givenan arrangement of netting to put over his head and let it hang down wellover his shoulders, but his scorn vanished rapidly. Within an hour hishands, unprotected by gloves, became puffed and swollen from bites, andhe found it necessary to put on thick buckskin to preserve him from thebites and to keep his sleeves rolled down. Even then he was not entirelyfree, for in some mysterious way the insects would work themselves intohis clothes, and at night, although the tent was placed on a canvaswhich fastened to its sides like a floor, so that the mosquitoes couldnot come up from underneath, a few of them always were to be heard--andfelt. So that, before many days had passed, Rogers was convinced thatthe Alaskan mosquito was a very important factor in life on the trail.
THE ONLY BIT OF ROCK FOR MILES.
A landmark in the vast treeless tundra. The chief of the divisiondrawing in contour.
_Photograph by U.S.G.S._]
Five days after leaving the portage, having covered over one hundredmiles of very easy going, the party made camp at Harper's Bend on theTanana River. So far as buildings went, it was quite an imposing place,no less than nine huts being in evidence, but they were all vacant anddeserted and a sense of loneliness and desolation hung over the place.The sight of human habitation, after so many weeks in the wild, ought tohave given a sense of homelikeness, but instead the boy was conscious ofan eerie sense of estrangement.
At supper that evening Roger mentioned this feeling, and added:
"Somehow I feel as if this place were haunted. It doesn't so much seemabandoned to nothingness as it does given to some uncanny ghost."
Magee crossed himself.
"Saints preserve us!" he said. "Don't talk like that, or ye'll bring thenight-riders here."
"Nonsense, Magee," reproved Rivers, "a man of your experience sosuperstitious! But the boy might be right, for all that."
"By the power of good luck, why?" asked the Irishman.
"You tell the story, Gersup," replied the chief, "you know more about itthan I do."
"Alaska's a pretty new country to be starting a ghost crop," thetopographer began, "and, so far as I know, there aren't any here yet;but, if any place ought to have one, it should be Harper's Bend, rightwhere we are now, and in this very house in which we are sitting."
Magee shivered and looked about him apprehensively.
"There was once," Gersup continued, "a trader at this place by the nameof Bean, William Bean. He came in the year 1879, and established a postfor the purpose of trafficking in the furs of the Tanana Indians. Hefound the tribes peaceful enough, their furs were of high quality and,as he had no competition, he was able to get them cheaply and to make abig profit out of it. The natives seemed to be so friendly and theopportunity for making money was so good that he determined to make it apermanent little settlement; he brought his wife to the place, and madearrangements for other families to follow.
"But it chanced, one day, that some natives from neighboring tribes, whohad visited trading posts, came by the Tanana Indian camps, and whenthey saw how little their allies were getting from Bean for their skins,they suggested either visiting other posts or demanding more from theirown trader. But Bean, so far as can be learned, was harsh and arrogant,and instead of offering a little more, which would still yield ahandsome profit, he refused to consider the matter at all, andsneeringly pointing out that they were so far from any other post thatthey would have to come to him, he drove them away with gibes.
"Now the Indian usually has a sense of justice which is peculiar tohimself. To us it may at times appear distorted, but it is a sense ofjustice none the less, and this sense Bean had offended. He made thefurther mistake of supposing that their quiescence under his sharprebuff was an evidence either of cowardice or of ignorance of the truevalues of their furs. So, lulled into a false security by his ownconceit, he remained there. One morning, while the whites were atbreakfast, a war-party came and attacked the blockhouse, an Indianshooting Mrs. Bean from the doorway. The trader leaped up, seized hissmall child, an
d dashed through a rear door to a near-by boat, followedby an Indian servant. Some days later a party came up from the Yukon andburied Mrs. Bean, but the trader never returned.
"The country was not settled enough at that time for any question to betaken up of punishing the Indians for the crime, and there is no doubtof the provocation that the trader had given them. But this singleincident in the history of the tribe is all too little to brand themwith the reputation of treachery which they have borne ever since."
The following morning the canoes passed through a section of the countrywhich, as Rivers pointed out to Roger, could be made the garden spot ofAlaska. Well timbered, well watered, with a favorable climate and easyof access by steamer up the Yukon, the lower Tanana could be made afruitful agricultural country.
"Some day," the chief of the party said, "an enterprising man will starta big farm here, to supply the posts all along the Yukon withprovisions, for which they now have to pay big prices on being broughtby steamer all the way from Seattle. That man will make ten times asmuch money as any of the gold mine operators, and besides, will beliving in security and comfort."
They halted for the midday stop, a few miles above the junction of theTanana with the Yukon, and about four o'clock the canoes shot into thatgreat river of the north. Surprised as the boy had been at the size ofthe Alaskan rivers, he was by no means prepared for the body of waterwhere the Tanana joins the Yukon.
"Why," he said in amaze, "I had no idea it was as big as this."
"Heap big river," commented Harry, who was in the stern.
The chief was in the boat, and hearing the lad's exclamation he turnedto him.
"This is the fifth largest river in North America," he said.
"What are the others, Mr. Rivers?" the boy asked. "The Mississippi comesfirst of course."
"Yes, and then the Mackenzie, the Winnipeg, and the St. Lawrence, inthat order. But the Yukon and the St. Lawrence are just about the samesize."
"Well," Roger said, "it certainly is big enough."
Harry grunted. "Plenty big to paddle up," he said.
Then the boy noticed for the first time that there was quite a currentin the river and that it was necessary to paddle up against the streaminstead of rushing down as they had been able to do on the Tanana, andhe buckled to his work. But they had not been breasting the current formore than an hour when one of the men in the rear boat gave a shout andpointed down the stream. Every one looked, and there, far down, could beseen a faint smoke like that of a steamer.
"That looks like a steamer's smoke," said the boy. "I wonder what it canbe."
"Why not a steamer?" queried Rivers.
The boy looked bewildered.
"I don't know why not," he said, laughing; "it just didn't occur to methat any people lived about here. Are there any steamers on the Yukon?"
"Lots of them. There's quite a little traffic on the river and it isgood for navigation for hundreds of miles, indeed, all the way to theCanadian boundary and above. Now you see, we will get this fellow,whoever he is, to take us up to Fort Hamlin. It's just as well to saveone's strength when there is no need to exert it."
So the canoes took it easily, just paddling along quietly, not trying tomake much headway, but on the other hand, not drifting down the stream,and commenting on the approaching steamer, as soon as she came in sight.She was a small vessel, but quite trim and ship-shape, and to Roger'seyes had a curious look of being civilized and out of place in theenvironment.
As soon as the steamer came close, Rivers gave orders for the leadingcanoe, in which he was, to drop behind, so that he might speak to thecaptain, and as the steamer forged up beside them the canoes got fullway on, to give a chance for the steamer to pick them up.
"Ahoy, there!" shouted Rivers as soon as the little vessel was withinhailing distance.
The captain of the vessel picked up his speaking trumpet.
"Well, what's the trouble, what do you want?" he roared back.
"Going up to Fort Hamlin. Take us on board."
"Can't stop," the captain shouted, "this is a government boat."
"So is this," replied Rivers, a little nettled, "slow up and take us onboard."
Now, as it chanced, the skipper was a choleric little man with a veryquick temper, which had not been improved on the trip by the presence ofa party of tourists, who had been grumbling at everything American allthe way up the river. So he was anxious to magnify the importance of hispost and not be at the beck and call of every tramp on the river.Irritated, therefore, he shouted back:
"Get to Fort Hamlin the best way you can, I can't spare any time."
By this time Rivers was warming up, and he did not want to bediscomfited before his party, so he yelled back in an authoritativevoice:
"Do as you're told and stop that vessel! I want to go on board."
"Oh, you do, do you," sneered the skipper, "then you can want," and herang the telegraph for full speed ahead.
Rivers was ready with a retort, but Bulson, who on occasion could becomefuriously angry, suddenly blazed, and picking up a rifle that lay on theboat, he fired across the bows of the steamer as she forged up to theleading canoe.
The captain picked up his speaking trumpet again.
"What in Creation do you think you are doing?" he roared, with all hisforce. "This is a United States mail boat," and he pointed to the mailflag flying at the stern.
Bulson made no reply other than sending another shot across thesteamer's bows.
Then if any man was wild it was that captain. That a government ship,flying a government flag, should be fired on in American waters by aparty of tramps in two battered canoes! And that those tourists shouldhave seen it! He fairly danced with rage. It was too much for flesh andblood to stand.
He swung the ship round sharply, volleying invectives as he did so, andvowing by all his gods that he would put every member of the party inirons until they reached port, and then would see them in jail fortreason. And the more he fulminated, the more the tourists chaffed him,until when the boats sheered alongside, he was purple in the face withtemper.
"What do you mean, sir," he began, stuttering in his speech; "what doyou mean by firing across our bows, sir? Are you aware that this istreasonable conduct, sir? It is infamous, sir, treasonable and infamous!Thirty years have I worn the uniform of the service, sir, and I havenever even heard of such insolent and high-handed conduct.
"Do not answer me, sir," he thundered, as Rivers prepared to answer him,a smile lurking behind the shaggy brown beard. "I will not be answered.Consider yourself under arrest, sir, and you will be handed over to theauthorities at Fort Gibbon."
"But I think, Captain," said Rivers, enjoying the amusement visible onthe faces of his party, "that you will take us to Fort Hamlin. I presumeyou are going that far."
"Take you to Fort Hamlin? Are you the commander of this vessel, sir, oram I? Answer me that, sir! And," he continued, with unnoticinginconsistency, "if you do so much as answer me, I shall clap you inirons. In irons, sir, and every man Jack of your party with you."
"Your threat does not disturb me in the least," was the unmoved reply,"because you would not dare to do it."
"Not dare?" exploded the little man, and turning, he was about to givean order, when Rivers stopped him.
"You had better wait," he said, "before you do anything for which youmay be sorry. I have told you several times to take us to Fort Hamlin,and you reply with threats of arrest and what not. You cannot arrest anyman without some cause, and no cause has been given."
"No cause, sir? You have given cause enough to be strung up at theyardarm, sir, strung up without any resort to the civil authority. Didyou not fire across my bows, sir? No cause, indeed! Do you not know,sir, that such an action is a declaration of war, sir, and that in timesof peace, it is privateering and piracy, and a dozen other thingsbesides, sir?"
"And who has more right to fire across your bows than I have?" queriedRivers with a fine assumption of authority.
"M
ore right," cried the captain, his voice rising to a perfect shriek,"you have no right, no one has any right--"
"Nevertheless I have," continued Rivers, but before he could explain hismission, the little officer broke in again.
"You have? If you were the Czar of Russia, sir, and every one of thescarecrows with you was a crowned head, sir, you would have no right tostop an American vessel in American waters. On American waters, did Isay? On any waters, sir. Wherever that flag flies, sir, she shall not bestopped by any one. And whoever fires on that flag, sir, is an enemy tome and my country, and I should have no hesitation in shooting him downlike a dog. Like a dog, sir, the dog that he is!"
"Well, Captain," said Rivers, thinking that the matter had gone farenough. "I am sure you would be sorry if you shot me down like a dog, asyou say. I am on government service, just as you are, and am just asloyal to the United States as you can be. My name is Rivers, of theGeological Survey."
"Rivers, the head of the Alaskan work?"
"Yes. The navy department was kind enough to place a gunboat at mydisposal for the trip from Seattle to Cook Inlet, and a revenue cutterhas been ordered to meet us at Point Barrow in the autumn, so I feelsure the Postal authorities will not complain of your affording usfacilities as far as Fort Hamlin."
"And why did you not say so before, sir?"
"You didn't give me a chance," answered Rivers, smiling.
"If I had known who you were, sir, that would have been an entirelydifferent matter. I should have esteemed it a pleasure, sir, to havebeen able to assist you in any way."
He turned to the passengers, who had been listening to the altercationwith great zest.
"Gentlemen," he said, "you see that only the American government itselfcan dare to delay a United States mail boat. Gentlemen, let me introduceMr. Rivers, chief of the Geological Survey in Alaska."