CHAPTER XXIX.
WAITING AND WATCHING FOR SPRING.
"Perhaps it isn't cold! I never felt so frozen up in my life!"
It was Randy who uttered the words, as he danced around the floor of theliving-room, almost on top of the stove. The fire had burned low duringthe night, and he had just shoved in some fresh wood and opened thedraughts. Going to the little window of the sleeping-apartment, helooked through the single pane of glass at the thermometer, which hungon the casement outside. The mercury registered twenty-two degrees belowzero.
"Twenty-two degrees below, and this is Christmas morning!" he went on,with another shiver. "The best thing Santa Claus can bring us is warmerweather."
"Merry Christmas!" cried Fred, tumbling out of his bunk, and his cryawoke the others, and the greeting went the whole round. The fire wasnow blazing with a vigor which threatened to crack the stove, yet asthey talked they could see each other's breath. Every one was stampingaround to get his blood in circulation.
"I'll give ye some hot coffee and Christmas flap-jacks!" said thecaptain; and soon a smell which was most appetizing was floating throughthe air, and they sat down at the table, which had been placed as closeto the fire as possible. Indeed, "hugging the stove" was a common trickall day long, and Fred often grumbled because he could not take thestove to bed with him. The boys were waking up to the fact that anAlaskan winter was "two winters in one," as Earl said, when comparedwith those experienced at home.
It had been snowing again; indeed, it snowed about half the time now,and even in the middle of the day it was so dark they could scarcelysee, excepting right in front of the windows. Some time previous severalIndians had appeared with fish oil and some dried fat fish to sell, andthey had purchased a quantity of both for lighting purposes. The oil wasused in a lamp made of a round tin having a home-made wick hanging overthe side. The fat fish, dried very hard, were slit in strips and set up,to be lighted and burnt as tallow candles. Many of the Indians and theEsquimaux have no lights but these dried-fish candles. The smell fromthem is far from pleasant, but they are certainly better than nothing.
As it was a holiday, the boys felt they must do something. But what todo was the question, until Fred suggested they try their hand at makingsome candy. They were allowed just a pound of sugar by the men, andworked themselves half sick over the wood fire until noon, when thecandy was declared done. It was a sort of taffy; and although it wouldnot have added to the reputation of a skilled confectioner, all handspartook of their share of it, and declared it excellent.
Just before being snowed in Mr. Portney had become the possessor of twonewspapers and a magazine, and much of the time was spent by one oranother over these. The magazine was rather a heavy one, yet the boysread it through from cover to cover, including all the advertisements.It contained among other stories one which was continued, and to passaway the time they tried to invent a conclusion. This self-imposed taskamused the doctor also, and he took a hand and finished the tale in amanner which took three evenings to tell.
And so New Year's Day came and went, and still they found themselveshoused up with the thermometer continually at fifteen to twenty degreesbelow. Once it went down to twenty-six below, and everything fairlycracked with the cold. To keep from being frozen, one and another stoodguard during the night, that the fire might not go down. During thattime they received but scant news from their neighbors, although thecabins along the under side of the cliff were less than seventy yardsapart. Nobody cared to venture out, and even opening the door wassomething to be considered, although the doctor insisted on having alittle fresh air.
"Providence help the poor chaps who are not well provided for thiswinter," said Mr. Portney, one day. "I shouldn't wonder if some of themare found dead in the spring."
"To be sure," answered the captain. "I looked ter somethin' putty badmyself, but I didn't expect nuthin' like this. Why, we might jest aswell be a-sittin' on the top o' the North Pole. Hain't been a blessedstreak o' sunshine fer eight days, an' every time it snows the stuffpiles up a foot or so more! It must be nigh on to thirty feet deep inyonder gulch."
"We'll have to economize with our store before long," put in the doctor."Flour is running pretty low. Captain, you'll have to give us lessflap-jacks--they're too toothsome."
"Yes, we'll have to come down to plain bread," said Foster Portney. "Andmaybe eat it stale too," he added.
Economizing began that day, after Mr. Portney had taken an account ofthe provisions still left to them. Whatever they had must be made to dofor three months yet, and three months meant ninety days, a goodlynumber for which to provide.
Slowly the days wore on, every one so much like the others that itseemed impossible to tell them apart. Sunday was the one day theyobserved through it all. On the morning of that the doctor invariablyread a chapter out of the Bible he carried, and one or another of therest offered prayer. "It's right an' proper," said the captain, speakingof this. "We don't want ter live like no heathens, even if we are castaway in an ocean o' snow!"
February proved the worst month of all. It snowed nearly the whole time,and it was so dark that they kept the lights lit as long as they daredto consume the fish oil and the dried fish. During that time they saw orheard nothing of their neighbors, who might have died of starvationwithout their being any the wiser. The snow against the door was fivefeet high and water was obtained by shovelling this into the pot insteadof ice and melting it.
"Well, it's a dog's life and that's the truth," said Earl one day, inthe middle of March. "It's worth all the gold we've found--that's myopinion." It was the first time Earl had grumbled since winter set in,but as he had not had what he called a square meal for a month he canwell be pardoned for the speech.
"If I thought I could get there and back, I would try for some extraprovisions from Dawson," said Foster Portney; but none of the otherswould hear of his attempting such a trip, feeling certain he would losehis way and perish.
"We'll make out with what we have," said the doctor. "Divide the rationsso they'll hold out until the middle of April. I fancy by that timethis winter siege will about end." His advice was followed out, and theywaited with all the patience possible for the coming of spring.
The fish and game had long since come to an end, and they were nowliving on plain bread, beans, and bacon or pork, and half a can of freshvegetables per day, with an occasional taste of stewed dried apples orapricots as a side dish. They were all tired of the beans, especiallyFred and the doctor, who had been used to good living all their lives.
"They're too much for me," said Fred, one day, as he pushed his smallplateful back. "I'd rather eat a crust of bread and drink snow water."And the beans remained untouched for two days, when he was forced, outof sheer hunger, to go at them again.
They had also reached the last half pound of coffee, and by a generalvote this was reserved for dinner each Sunday. As the amount on handdecreased they made the beverage weaker and weaker, until the doctorlaughingly declared that the snow flavored the water more than thecoffee did. The lack of coffee hit the captain more than the others, forhe loved his cupful, strong, black, and without sugar.
It was on the last day of March that they heard a noise outside and thencame a faint hammering on their door. All leaped up and ran to open thebarrier. When it had been forced back a distance of a foot, they beheldtwo miners there, so weak they could scarcely stand, much less speak."Sumthin' to eat!" whispered one of them hoarsely, and the other echoedthe word "Eat!" as being all he could say.
The two were taken into the cabin and warmed up, while Earl prepared athin vegetable soup for them, that being best for their stomachs,according to the doctor. They could hardly swallow at first, and it wasnot until the following morning that they were strong enough to sit upand tell their stories. They had been wintering back of the woods, butstarvation had driven them forth in an attempt to reach Dawson City forsupplies. Their strength had failed them, they had lost their way, andhere they were.
"Take ca
re of us, and we'll pay you well," said one of the miners."We've got over a thousand dollars in gold dust with us and ten thousandin dust and nuggets hidden up at the camp."
"I'm afraid your money won't count up here," replied Foster Portney,sadly. "We're almost as badly off ourselves. Yet I am willing to sharewhat I have." A vote was taken, and the miners remained; and that madetwo more mouths to feed out of their scanty store.
The first week in April saw them reduced to next to nothing. The flourwas gone, so was the bacon and the canned goods, and it was pork andbeans and stewed dried apples twice a day and nothing more. Every onelooked haggard, and all felt that something must happen soon. Wouldspring ever come?
"Pork and beans enough to last about three days yet," said FosterPortney, as he surveyed the scanty store, with the others standingaround. "Three days, and after that--" He did not finish, and a silencefell on the crowd. Were they to suffer the pangs of actual starvation,after all?
To Alaska for Gold; Or, The Fortune Hunters of the Yukon Page 32
