CHAPTER II.
THE BOYS REACH A DECISION.
"Uncle Foster is going back to Alaska?" said Randy, slowly.
"Yes; he is going to start almost immediately, too," added his elderbrother. "He says the new gold diggings are something immense, and hewants to stake a claim at the earliest possible date."
Randy drew a long breath. To Alaska! What a tremendous trip that wouldbe--five thousand miles at least! And going to such an almost unknownregion would be very much like starting for the north pole.
He remembered well that his Uncle Foster had paid a visit to Alaskathree years previous, sailing from San Francisco to St. Michael's Islandand then taking a Yukon River steamboat to a trading camp known as FortCudahy. They had received several letters from him while he was upthere, working for the Alaskan Transportation Company part of the timeand hunting for gold whenever the opportunity offered. The letters hadtold of the intense cold and the suffering, and of numerous unsuccessfulattempts to strike a paying claim around Fort Cudahy and at anothercamp, known as Circle City. His uncle had taken up several claims, butthey had not panned out very well, and Mr. Portney had finally returnedto the United States, to interest himself in a Colorado silver mine.
"Let me see the letter," said Randy, and Earl handed it over. "I don'tsee how we are to pay our way to Alaska or anywhere else," added theyounger boy, ruefully, as he opened the epistle.
"You will see presently," rejoined Earl. "Read it aloud. Uncle writessuch a twisted hand, I want to make sure I read aright." And Randystarted at once:--
"CREEDE, COL., April 5.
"MY DEAR NEPHEWS:--I suppose you have been looking for a letterfrom me all winter, but the fact is I have been away from this vicinitysince last December. A man from British Columbia wanted me to buy aninterest in a gold mine at a settlement called Dunbar's, and I went withhim. The mine proved to be worthless, and I left Dunbar's, and went toVictoria, and stayed there until three weeks ago.
"While I was in Victoria, I ran across two miners whom I had met whileat Fort Cudahy in Alaska. They reported that a new gold field had beendiscovered farther up the Yukon River, at a place known as KlondikeCreek. There had been an exodus from Circle City and Fort Cudahy to thisnew region, and a camp known as Dawson City had been started. They saidthat there were about a dozen small creeks flowing into the Klondike andinto the Yukon at this point, and that it was reported and proved thatthe entire district was rich with gold.
"I was chary of believing the men at first, for I know only too well howmany wild-cat reports start up in every mining camp. But a couple ofdays later I heard another report from Juneau, Alaska, to the effectthat several miners had come down from this same territory by way of thelakes and Chilkoot Pass, and had brought with them over thirty-fivethousand dollars in nuggets and gold dust, taken out of a place calledHunker's Creek, which runs into the Klondike.
"From these reports, and from others which are floating around, I amconvinced that they have at last struck the rich vein of yellow metalwhich I always believed would be located there, and I am now makingpreparations to try my luck again in that territory, and if you two boyswant to go along and think you can stand the climate, which is somethingawful for nine months in the year, I'll see you through. I do not knowhow you are fixed for cash, but I have been lucky in Colorado, and Iwill pay all expenses, providing you will agree to remain with me fortwo years, working as I work, for a one-half interest in all ourdiscoveries--that is, a one-quarter interest to each of you and aone-half interest to myself. The expense of a year's trip to Alaska bythe route we shall take, over the mountain pass, will be between sixand eight hundred dollars each, for we shall have to take nearly all ouroutfits--clothing, tools, and provisions--along.
"I am now on the point of starting for San Francisco, and shall arrivethere probably before this letter reaches you. My address will be thePalace Hotel, and I wish you to telegraph me immediately, at my expense,if you will go or not. Do not attempt to accept my offer unless both ofyou are perfectly well and strong and willing to stand great hardships,for the sake of what we may have the good luck to find. And if you dogo, don't blame me if we are all disappointed, and come home poorer thanwe went.
"If you accept the offer, I will telegraph you sufficient money toMessrs. Bartwell & Stone, Boston, to pay your fare to San Francisco, andI shall expect to see you at the latter city before the 20th of themonth, for I am going to start for the new gold fields, even if I haveto go with strangers, as soon as possible. With love to you both, Iremain,
"Your affectionate uncle,
"FOSTER C. PORTNEY."
"Oh, Earl, let's go!" burst from Randy's lips as he finished the longletter. "This is just what I've been waiting for. Let's go to Alaska andmake our fortunes!"
"Go to Alaska and be frozen to death, you mean," replied Earl; yet hesmiled even as he spoke. "Do you know that the thermometer goes down toforty degrees below zero out there in winter?"
"Well, we're used to roughing it out here in these woods."
"These woods can't hold a candle to Alaska for barrenness, Randy. Thinkof a winter nine months long and ice all the year round! Uncle said inone of his other letters, that the ground never thawed out more than afew feet, excepting in favored localities."
"Do you mean to say you'll let such a splendid chance slip by?" demandedthe younger lad, straightening up and looking his brother full in theface. "And let it slip, too, when we're in such trouble here?"
"No, I didn't say that, Randy. But we ought to consider the mattercarefully before we make up our minds. According to the letter we'llhave to spend at least two years in the gold fields."
"I'll spend ten if I can make money."
"Uncle said in that other letter that no one seemed to care to stay inthe upper portion of Alaska more than two or three years at a time."
"Well, I'm in for the trip, heart and soul. Hurrah for the--what's thename of that creek?--Klondike! Hurrah for the Klondike! I wonder if it'son the map."
Randy rushed over to the little shelf which contained all theschool-books the family had ever possessed, and brought forth a largegeography, much the worse for wear. There was no separate map of Alaska,but there was one of North America, and this he scanned with interest.
"Here's the Yukon and here's the Porcupine and the Pelly rivers, but Idon't see any Klondike," he said seriously. "I wonder where it can be."
"You can't expect to find a little creek on a map that shows up theYukon River as less than two inches long," said Earl. "Why, the Yukon isbetween two and three thousand miles long. Circle City must be upthere," he continued, pointing to where the Yukon touched the 144 deg. oflongitude, "and if that's so, this new gold field can't be so very faroff, although in such a great territory a few hundred miles this way orthat are hardly counted."
"But you'll go, won't you, Earl?" pleaded Randy, as he restored thegeography to the shelf. "We'll never make more than our pork and beansout here in the woods."
Earl picked up a small stick from the fireplace and brought out hispocket-knife. He always had to go to whittling when he wanted to do somehard thinking. "If we accepted Uncle Foster's invitation to come to SanFrancisco, there would be no turning back," he remarked, after a momentof silence.
"We shouldn't want to turn back as soon as that."
"And we couldn't turn back after we once got into Alaska. There is nosuch thing as travelling back and forth between the months of Octoberand May. The rivers freeze up, and everything is snow and ice."
"Well, we'd have plenty of provisions--Uncle would be sure to see tothat. We've got to vacate here, you must remember, in a day or two."
Again Earl was silent. He had sharpened up one end of the stick, and nowhe turned to the other. "I wonder where we could telegraph from best,"he said at last.
Randy's eyes lit up instantly, and he caught his big brother by theshoulder. "Good for you, Earl; I knew you would say yes!" he cried."Why, we can telegraph from Spruceville, can't we?"
"We can if
they'll trust us for the telegram."
"If they won't, I'll pay for it. I'm not going to let such a chanceslide by. The thing of it is," Randy added, sobering down suddenly, "howare we to get to Boston to get the money Uncle intends to send on?"
"We'll have to sell off our things here. They'll bring in something,although not much."
"Good! I never thought of that."
For two hours the boys talked matters over, and in the excitement dinnerwas entirely forgotten. Then a telegram was prepared which ran asfollows:--
"Will sell out and come on as soon as possible."
It was agreed that Earl should send the message from Spruceville, a townfour miles beyond Basco. This was a seven miles' tramp, but he did notmind it, having walked the distance many times previously. He procured abite to eat, and with the letter from his uncle in his pocket he startedoff. He intended to show the letter to the telegraph operator in casethe man should hesitate to send the message with charges to be paid atthe other end.
At Basco, Earl met a number of workmen of the district, among whom wasTom Roland, the brother of the lumberman who intended to buy the timberland from Caleb Norcross. Roland was a man whom nobody liked, and Earlpassed him without a word, although it was evident from Roland's mannerthat the latter desired to stop for a talk. With Tom Roland was a fellownamed Guardley, a ne'er-do-well, who had been up before the squire onmore than one occasion for drinking and stealing. The reader will dowell to remember both Tom Roland and Guardley, for they are destined toplay a most important part in the chapters which follow.
The middle of the afternoon had passed before Earl struck the outskirtsof Spruceville and made his way to the little railroad station where waslocated the telegraph office. His errand was soon explained to theyoung man in charge, and he felt in his pocket to bring forth the slipof paper Randy had written out, and his uncle's letter.
To his consternation both were missing. He remembered well where he hadplaced them, yet to make sure he searched his clothing thoroughly. Hissearch was useless. The message and the letter were gone.