A Race for Claims
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Experiences of Gold Hunters in Alaska

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Panning for gold. Photographer unknown.

Reproduced from Margeson's Experiences of Gold Hunters in Alaska.

 



ABOUT the first of August, it became evident by the whisperings about camp, that a "strike" had been made somewhere in the mountains, and that an effort was being made by the discoverers-which, by the way, was no more than natural-to get all their friends favorably located before it became generally known.

Men who were known to have been in the camp at night, would in the early morning hours be missing, and it was no more than reasonable to suppose that they had been given a "tip," and that under the cover of night they had shouldered their packs, and departed for the new strike.

Two weeks before this time a party of our boys had gone out upon a prospecting trip in the same direction in which it was thought the new strike had been made, and a week later another party from our company had left upon a trip in the same direction. I expected to have formed one of this party, but was taken ill the day before they were to leave, and so I was left behind.

Two or three days passed without hearing anything definite about the new strike. I had recovered from my illness, and was planning a relief expedition to the first company that had gone out from us (for I knew they must be getting short of provisions), when a courier arrived with a note from one of this party, saying that they had headed off the strike, and believed they were near it, and asked that provisions be sent over the mountains to them.

The next morning I was up early, and taking two men with me, we set out on a thirty-five-mile trip, each with a sixty-pound pack. All the forenoon we climbed on up the mountain, through brush and over logs and rocks, until at noon we reached the summit of the narrow divide, where we were to begin the descent into the valley beyond.

Here we came to a beautiful little lake, nestled close to the foot of the mountain, which rose almost perpendicular from its shores to a height of many thousand feet. This lake is the dividing point, and from it the water flows in both directions. We rested here only long enough to eat our lunch, and then began the descent into a valley which we had never seen before. . .

Soon we came out of this into the most beautiful valley that I saw in all my travels in Alaska. It was two miles in extent, and covered from mountain to mountain with a network of brush. Through it flowed a clear stream, well stocked with mountain trout.

Looking away to the head of this valley, twelve or fifteen miles distant, several glaciers were in plain view. Looking down the valley ten miles, we saw several hundred acres which were thinly covered with timber and at this point a narrow valley could be seen winding through the mountains in the direction of Tonsina Lake, where, upon one of its tributaries, we expected to find our boys.. . .

About seven o'clock at night we reached first timber, and were so tired that it seemed impossible to go farther. We noticed that a rainstorm was brewing, so we selected a spot as well sheltered from the wind as possible, made a fire, and prepared supper. After supper we sat around the camp-fire and chatted until nine o'clock, when we turned into our sleeping bags, and were soon fast asleep.

How long I slept I do not know, but think it was nearly midnight when I awoke, and the rain was coming down in torrents. In my sleep I had opened the flap of my sleeping bag, and fully a gallon of water had run down inside of it. It wasn't just the nicest place to sleep, partly under water; but it would be no improvement to get up in the drenching rain to empty out, so I arranged my sleeping bag to the best advantage, and lay until morning. There was no need to call me in the morning, for I was out early; and emptying the water out of my bed, I rolled it up ready to march.

The rain continued, and the wood had become so thoroughly soaked that it was only after several unsuccessful attempts that a fire was started, and our breakfast prepared.

After breakfast, though the rain still continued, we shouldered our packs, which were rendered much heavier by being so thoroughly soaked with water, and started across the valley toward the narrow divide in the direction of Tonsina Lake. If there was a dry thread in our clothing when we started, it didn't remain dry long, for the whole valley was covered with rain-soaked brush, which reached to our heads or above, and so thick that with our best efforts we were three hours making the first two miles. , , ,

At the lake we came upon an old Indian trail which had evidently been used in former years in going over from Copper River to Tonsina Lake. This we followed for several miles, until it ceased to go in the direction we wished to travel, when we left it again, and took to the brush. Scarcely had we left the trail when we met five men. They had been in this vicinity for several days, and had found the stream upon which the strike was made, staked their claims, and were on their way out to camp.

They told us where the stream was, but gave us very little information concerning it, only that they thought the claims were about all taken. They also told us they had seen the party to whom we were taking supplies, two days before, and that they had crossed over to the head waters of Tonsina Lake.

This was a surprise to us, that they should have gone so far away. We afterward learned that they had been informed about the strike, but their informant had either made a mistake, or they had misunderstood him, and they received the impression that it was upon a stream emptying into the head of the lake, instead of the foot, and so had gone over there.

The little stream down which we were going emptied into the one upon which the strike had been made, but we were several miles from it. We knew that the last party of our boys, which had left camp the week before, was somewhere in this part of the country, and we pushed on hoping that in the early afternoon we might find them; but if not, that we might yet be in time to get claims. . . .

The noon hour had arrived when we reached the top of a steep bank, down which we must descend a thousand feet or more to reach the bed of the stream. We had sat down for a few moments of rest, when we heard the cracking of brush below us, and looking down, we saw what we supposed to be two men climbing up through the thick brush toward us; but on their coming up to us, we found that one was a woman dressed in male attire. They were a man and his wife who were camped near us on the island, and had been down on the creek staking claims. They informed us that only a few hours before they had parted with five men belonging to our company, and that they had also staked claims, and were then camped three miles down the creek. This was welcome news to us, but they told us also that the trail leading down to where they were camped was something terrible.

We had now heard definitely from both our parties, and expected to have no difficulty in finding them. Clinging to bush and rock, we climbed down to the bed of the creek, where we saw a stake upon which was written, "Discovery Claim." The stream was too deep to ford, and the water was rushing toward the lake at the rate of twelve miles an hour, dashing itself into foam upon the rocks which everywhere lined the stream. . . .

I shall not soon forget my experience in passing this spot. I had reached a point perhaps four hundred feet up from the creek bed, when I thought I could climb around the rocks to a place where I could begin the descent; this, if it could be done, would save me a climb of several hundred feet both up and down, and I had reached the most difficult part of it, when the rock, which was of a shalely character, began to crumble from under my feet. I clung to the rocks above me as best I could, but their crumbly nature made them very unreliable. I gave one glance downward, and there, hundreds of feet below were the rushing waters, into which I must certainly fall if I once got started. I thought to loosen my pack, and let it drop into the stream below, to lighten the burden on the shalely rocks, and relieve me of its unwieldy proportions in such a tight place as this; but I could not let go my hold to unbuckle the straps. To go further I could not, and it seemed almost as difficult to get back; but I plainly saw that was my only chance, so I began working my feet along a few inches at a time, expecting every moment that the shalely rocks under me would give way, and precipitate me into the mad waters below. Little by little I retreated from my perilous position, and reached a place of safety, so weak from the great strain upon my nerves that I could scarcely stand up under my pack.

After a brief rest I followed my companions, who had climbed higher up to a place where the mountain was not so steep, and we reached the valley again in safety. To pass such places as this with heavy packs taxed one's strength to its utmost, and keeps the nerves under a fearful tension.

I'll not attempt to describe in detail the balance our trip over this three miles, but four different times we were obliged to climb the high mountain to get around some rock which projected out into the stream, and it was four o'clock when we came in sight of our boys' camp.

They had been out sinking some holes to test the claims which they had staked out the day before, and had but recently returned to camp, and were just preparing their dinner. One who has never been separated from home and friends, and in such an isolated country as this, can never tell our feelings as we emerged from the bushes, and saw only a few rods distant from us this, to us, homelike scene. We were ravenously hungry, and there before us were skillets of frying bacon, and stacks of steaming "flapjacks," and buckets of hot coffee. We were so fatigued that we could scarcely drag one foot after the other, and here was a roaring camp fire, where we could dry our soaked sleeping bags and clothing, and plenty of spruce boughs to make us a good soft bed on which to sleep.

When the boys saw us come out of the brush, they left their seats by the camp fire, and rushing up, shook us by the hands so heartily that a looker-on might have supposed that we were brothers who had been separated, for long years, instead of only one short week. We sat around the fire, and recounted to each other the various experiences of the past week, until late in the evening.