Читать книгу The Land of Nome - Lanier McKee - Страница 7

he town forms dense right at the shore, extending back and along upon damp and muddy soil hitherto covered by the deep and marshy moss. The Snake River, a sluggish, unnavigable stream, coming from the back-lying hills and through the tundra, empties into the sea where the town tapers off at the north, and thereby forms a sand-spit.

The first impressions after landing were those of confusion, waste, and filth. The shore was an indescribable mass of machinery, lumber, and freight of all kinds, the greater part of which represented fortunes thrown away. Scattered about and along the shore, looking for an opportunity to steal, were as tough a looking lot of rascals as one could meet. Upon walking into the center of the town one was greeted by a sight which beggars description. Certainly it was a case of "whited sepulcher." The whiteness viewed from afar disappeared. The main street was lined with hastily-erected two-story frame buildings, with here and there a tent—a series of saloons, gambling-places, and dance-halls, restaurants, steamship agencies, various kinds of stores, and lawyers' "offices." It was filled with a mass of promiscuous humanity. Loads of stuff drawn by horses and dog-teams were being carted through the narrow, crowded ways, and the cry of encouragement to the dogs of "Mush on" (dog French for Marchons) was heard frequently. Miners with heavy packs on their backs were starting out for the claims on the creeks and into the unknown interior, but the "bar-room" miner was far more in evidence.

It was not the typical mining camp where the population for the greater part is composed of hardy, honest people who have undergone privation to reach their destination, and thereby represent, in a measure, the survival of the fittest; for this was a great impossible hybrid sort of city, accessible by steamer direct from San Francisco and Seattle, where the riffraff and criminals of the country were dumped, remote from the restraints of law and order. I heard old-timers who had visited all the principal mining camps in recent years remark that this Nome was the "toughest proposition" they had ever encountered, and I must admit that it would be difficult to picture anything tougher. However, it was soon realized that the matter to be reckoned with was that of sanitary conditions, or rather the lack of them. The general "toughness" of things and the inconveniences of getting settled had been in the main foreseen and discounted, but the rather alarming outbreak of smallpox in the camp, and the reported filling up of the "pest-house," made matters somewhat more involved and complicated. There had been a warning in Seattle that certain vessels were bringing up persons infected with the disease, and two of the suspected ships were then being held in quarantine by the vigilant government representative, Lieutenant Jarvis, but the disease had, nevertheless, secured a foothold in the camp. Undoubtedly, however, the matter was grossly exaggerated, and there were probably more deaths from pneumonia than from any other disease. The smallpox scare, nevertheless, gave the doctors a good opening, for vaccination was strictly in order. Considering in retrospect the site of the place, the total absence of any sewerage, and the great motley crowd there herded together, Nome proved to be a remarkably healthy camp—a fact due, in the main, to the prompt measures for sanitation taken by General Randall immediately upon his arrival, and the introduction into the town, later in the season, of good water conveyed by pipes from the streams beyond. During the preceding year typhoid had been very prevalent and deaths numerous. A repetition was thus happily avoided, though, during the first days the prospects seemed indeed dismal, and the old-timers (always spoken of as "sour doughs" in Alaska) predicted that, after the rains should set in, the people were going to die like flies; and, without the least exaggeration, it certainly looked that way. I believe, nevertheless, that if the story could be told, it would be learned that more lives have been lost in that country through drowning than in any other way. Hundreds of gold-hunters, in small and unseaworthy boats, as soon as they could do so, left Nome to prospect the remoter coast and possible creeks, many of whom perished in the sudden and fierce storms which occur in the Bering Sea, and wives and mothers wondered why no letters came from Alaska.

We were four or five days collecting our seventeen packages of freight, and with V—— took turns day and night waiting for the uncertain lighters to come ashore with their mixed loads of machinery and miscellaneous supplies. I believe that between us we saw and examined every parcel which came from the hold of the Lane. C—— was ill aboard ship, and we looked after his freight as well. Some days it was too rough to discharge any, or a tug could not be secured or had broken down. It was good luck finally to get it all, for many were left high and dry with nothing, their vessels having returned for a second trip with cargo not wholly discharged. During these nights—or what should have been nights—we were fortunate to have extended to us the hospitality of the floor of the storehouse of the Wild Goose Mining and Trading Company, and I can very distinctly recall the stretched-out, blanketed figures lying about, the coughing of a sick Eskimo family in the attic above, and the yelling of the fellow across the way exhorting people in the ever-restless street to enter the dance-hall and see the "most beautiful women in the world."

Until our tents and provisions could be collected, it was necessary to live, so to speak, "on the town," but restaurant competition was already so keen that one could get a really excellent and clean meal for a dollar and a half or a dollar. I drank no water at all, unless it had been boiled, and then took it with tea. It is possible thus to accustom one's self; but I distinctly remember being on one occasion so thirsty as to give fifty cents for a glass of ginger-ale, and poor at that. Despite our special vigilance in watching our freight as it accumulated on the shore, in an unguarded moment, when our backs were turned, one of the numerous thugs stole V——'s valise, containing many essentials and keepsakes of the miner which could not be replaced. The calm, manly manner in which he bore his great loss, for which my brother and I felt partly responsible, was an excellent example for us when, on the morrow, we similarly had stolen from us the sack which contained our invaluable sleeping-robes, made from army blankets, things which we missed all summer, and the lack of which made us mentally sore. Of course, among such an assortment of persons, there were a number of murders, suicides, and indulgences in "gun-play," and it was not precisely the proper thing in the small hours to stroll carelessly about the place.

Early in the spring of 1900 a "strike" had been made at Topkok, a small stretch of beach some thirty miles east of Nome, near the mouth of a dry creek called Daniel's. Four men with primitive contrivances had taken out at least forty thousand dollars' worth of gold-dust in thirty days, when the secret leaked out, and a stampede to that quarter ensued. Small vessels of all kinds, charging from fifteen to twenty-five dollars a passenger and a good deal for freight, were making the trip, crowded, between Nome and the new diggings. It was generally conceded that all the ground along the creeks back of Nome, and the tundra, had been staked and restaked for many miles; in fact, nearly all the surrounding country had been gobbled up, on speculation mainly, after the rich discoveries on Anvil and other creeks. There had been a rush to Port Clarence, forty miles north and west, but it was common belief that no gold had been discovered there, and that it was a mere real-estate boom and a fake excitement. Cape York, thirty miles beyond Port Clarence, which had been reported rich the preceding fall, and where it was believed there would be a considerable and prosperous settlement the following season, had not panned out successfully. The beach about Nome had been already practically exhausted, so that it yielded in its best spots only a few dollars a day, an amount which does not go very far in a new country. It was, therefore, a serious question for the average miner to decide in what direction and how he should move. Undoubtedly, the poverty of the beach, which was considered common property, was a keen disappointment to the many who had hoped to take from it sufficient wherewithal to tide them through the winter and furnish a little capital for future operations. The working season is short, scarcely three months, as operations must practically cease when the water freezes; and one must "strike it" early, or not at all. Hundreds of the adventurers immediately threw up the sponge, cursed the Nome "fake"; and, if they could pay the fare, departed for home. The steamers for the most part were returning as crowded as they came, and many of their passengers, on reaching home, exaggerating the sufficiently bad conditions which did exist, immediately circulated in the press of the country most alarming accounts of the situation at Nome, and also generally condemned as a fraud a country marvelously rich in gold, a country which they had not given even a decent trial.

Having finally collected the bulk of our freight, we put up a tent on the sand-spit across the Snake River, half a mile perhaps from the heart of the metropolis, the only ground except the beach which was not tundra. This place was already becoming thickly populated with temporary tenants like ourselves, small stores of various kinds, and lodging-tents, not to mention a fat individual near us who, decorated and bedecked with medals, hung out her sign—"Lady Barber." Our camp was about fifty yards from the ocean. Driftwood from Siberia, tossed up by unusually severe storms, lay about in quantity. V——, with his mining partner, R——, camped with us, and all took turns in guarding the provisions, cooking, and doing camp chores generally, during this period of deliberation. At times during the day it was very warm—the sun blazed down hot—but toward six o'clock in the evening it became chilly, and at night it was positively and uncomfortably cold; for, be it remembered, all through that section of the country, a few feet from the surface, and this, too, in the case of the tundra, perennial layers of ice and frozen ground are met. Putting a flooring to the tent, and the purchase of some reindeer-skins to fill the want caused by the "lifting" of our sleeping-robes and the mysterious disappearance of the folding cots, made the nights much more agreeable, and, furthermore, we were becoming inured to the climatic conditions. The midnight sun stood up in the heavens small and red like a toy balloon; and it was the perpetual daylight, aggravated through the whiteness of the tent, which, aided by the cold, made those first nights almost sleepless ones. Near us, living in a small hut fortified with driftwood and canvas, was a queer little old German-American, who was one of the pioneers in the Nome region. He was addressed as "Captain Cook," and, with a twinkle in his bright eye, he referred to his abode as his "castle." We secured his good will, and the old fellow related some of his interesting experiences. He said, now that he had accumulated some gold, he was going home in the autumn to see his "leetle wife in Kansas City," whom he had not seen for many years.

Westward along the beach, for miles, all kinds of contrivances, from the simple hand-"rocker" to complicated machinery, were being used to get the gold; but the men did not seem cheerful in their work, and most of them would freely and candidly admit that they were not making even good wages. Among the many strange sights on the beach was an enormous machine, built upon huge barrels, which some of our friends with the blue-prints were making ready to dredge gold from the sea. It represented a great deal of money. When subsequently launched, and tons of sand had been taken by it from beneath the sea, not five cents' worth of gold was found to compensate for the enormous expense and labor. Not far away, at a point which was to be its terminal, men were landing as best they could the machinery, rails, and ties for the railroad of the Wild Goose Company, which was to extend for several miles back over the tundra to the rich placer-mines on the creeks.

Hundreds were living in tents upon the beach, thanks to the clemency of the weather. Within a very short distance from our camp, with their freight piled about, were the "syndicate," and quite unenthusiastic. There was defection in their camp. Actually, the "syndicate" were selling out, and without a struggle. Several of its members very soon bade us farewell, and pulled out for what they thought the "real thing"—quartz-mines in Oregon. And yet some of the mines on Anvil Creek even then, and with only a few men shoveling the pay dirt into the sluice-boxes, were turning out from ten to fifteen thousand dollars a day. To be sure, this was for the very few only, but, at the same time, it went to prove that the country was not a fraud. Even the dirt in those miserable Nome streets contained "colors," or small particles of gold; and it is an incongruous thought that, of all the cities of the world, Nome City, as it is called, most nearly approaches the apocalyptic condition of having its streets paved with gold!

We daily crossed the Snake River on "Gieger's Bridge" when going into the town for investigation and information. Gieger was an enterprising fellow who had built a rough but sufficiently substantial bridge at the mouth of the stream, and, by exacting a toll, he was making a pretty good thing out of it. Frame buildings of the wood of Puget Sound were going up like mushrooms throughout the town, and the noise of saw and hammer denoted that the carpenters were making small fortunes. "Offices" which could scarcely hold more than a chair and a table were for rent at one hundred to one hundred and fifty dollars a month, and these, too, frequently were merely spaces penned off in connection with stores or bar-rooms. Absurd prices were demanded for town lots of very uncertain title. I know of one instance where four thousand dollars was given for a lot on the main street. The saloon which bore the proud sign "The Only Second-Class Saloon in Alaska" seemed to be the best appointed and to be playing to the largest audiences; but it was then too early for the miners to come in with their gold dust, and the gamblers, therefore, were not doing a harvest business. We met college-bred men. A man I had known at college was doing business in a tent pending the building of a bank with safe-deposit vaults, of which he was the general manager. Another, with whom I had attended law school, and whom I had never seen or thought of since, had come to Nome in the first rush from Seattle, and now, situated in Easy Street, was one of the leaders of the Nome bar. The negro Pullman-car porter, whom we had last seen at San Antonio, Texas, on our way out from the East, reintroduced himself to me on the street, to my infinite surprise, and wanted to know if I could give him work of some kind, which I was not then in position to do. We may have been responsible for his infection with the gold fever.

The place was really under martial law. The town government, useless and corrupt, was practically nil; and as it was believed that the federal judge, with his staff of assistants, would not arrive until August, it was the plain duty of the military to preserve order and, so far as possible, leave legal matters in statu quo until the advent of the civil authorities as provided by the laws which had been recently enacted for Alaska.

For various reasons which seemed good and sufficient, we decided to quit Nome and go to Council City. We knew that Mr. Lane's company had large interests in that region—that he believed in it; and we knew people on the Lane who had gone thither direct on reaching Nome. It was said, too, to be a healthful country, with plenty of good water and even a belt of timber. One did not hear it much discussed at Nome—people did not seem to know much about it—but what was said was favorable. As to the means of reaching it, information was scanty, and that somewhat discouraging, but certainly the thing to do was to go by boat east about seventy-five miles to the mouth of Golovin Bay, from which point we should have to travel up shallow rivers some fifty or sixty miles to Council City. C——, who had been a pretty sick man, but who had declined to follow certain "sound advice" and return home (having joined us from the Lane), and G——, another fellow-passenger, thought the move a good one, and agreed to come with us. We four, therefore, making selections from our respective supplies, sold or otherwise disposed of provisions which were less essential, for the carrying of freight and supplies in that impossible country, however short the actual distance, is a very serious and expensive matter. V—— and R—— were building their boat, though they had not yet decided in which direction to go; but they agreed to communicate with us somehow during the season. A tent labeled "Undertaker," with the American flag on top, had just been put up for business across the way from us; and it seemed fitting that we should celebrate the Fourth of July by leaving Nome. This was accomplished on the little steamer Dora, belonging to the Alaska Commercial Company, not much to look at, but it afforded the greatest comfort and luxury we had known since the days at San Francisco, and, furthermore, it carried drinkable water.