Romancing the Klondike

by Donadlson-Yarmey, Joan;

  Donald wasn’t paying attention to the conversation. He found a pail under the table and headed out the door.

  “I think Donald is staying too,” Sam added, as he sliced the bacon.

  For the first time, Gordon grinned. “I think Donald is going anywhere your sister goes.”

  “You noticed, too,” Sam smiled.

  “Couldn’t help it.”

  With the fire going well, Sam placed the bacon strips into the frying pan and set it on the stove. He mixed the flour, baking powder, and salt in one of Pearl’s pots, and set it aside to wait until everyone was ready before adding the milk and frying it. He considered himself lucky to have gotten the last tin of baking powder in the store since they didn’t have any sourdough starter. In the other pot, he combined the dried fruit and sugar. He’d add water and heat it on the stove when Donald returned with the pail. It made a good syrup for the flapjacks.

  After they had their meal he, Donald, and Gordon had to register their claims and get supplies organized so they could head back to their claims the next day. They had to beat the rest of the prospectors who would be coming back soon to register their claims and purchase food and equipment. He refused to entertain the thought that Gordon wasn’t going with them.

  * * *

  Sam and Donald moved the table and two chairs outside. When the women arrived, they each lugged a chair. Donald went into another abandoned cabin and found one more.

  Sam carried the bacon and flapjacks out and set them on the table. “Help yourselves,” he waved a hand to indicate the feast.

  Donald offered the plate of flapjacks to the women. Pearl and Emma both took one. He and Gordon each pulled a couple of flapjacks onto their plates and poured the syrup over them. They ate with relish.

  Sam noticed Pearl and Emma hesitate over the food.

  “I’m not that bad of a cook,” he said, helping himself to the bacon.

  “We’re having a hard time finding food we like,” Pearl explained.

  “Yes, northern cooking does take time to get used to.”

  Emma poured some fruit syrup over her flapjack. She took a bite. A look of enjoyment crossed her face.

  “How come these flapjacks taste so much better than the ones in the restaurant?” she asked, as she swallowed.

  “I made them with baking powder instead of sourdough starter.”

  Pearl followed Emma’s example and both of them happily ate their flapjacks.

  Sam smiled, happy to see them both enjoying his food.

  During breakfast Sam and Donald took turns asking Pearl and Emma questions about their family and friends in Halifax. Gordon sat in stony silence. When they had finished breakfast, Emma volunteered to wash the dishes and Donald jumped up to help.

  Sam had noticed the glances Donald gave Emma when he thought she wasn’t looking. He was as smitten with her now as she had been with him years ago. Sam doubted much would come of it, though, because they would be at their claim from now till spring and probably wouldn’t see the women again.

  After the women left, the three men sat at the table.

  “What are we doing?” Sam asked. Might as well get the argument over with now.

  “I’ve decided I’m staying,” Donald said.

  “Staying where?” Gordon sneered. “Here in the north or in Fortymile to be with your sweetheart.”

  “She’s not my sweetheart,” Donald protested.

  “Ah, but you want her to be.”

  Donald blushed but didn’t deny it.

  Sam stood. He didn’t care what Donald’s reasons were, he was just glad that his friend had chosen to remain. “I’m going to register my claim.”

  “Me, too,” Donald said.

  They both looked expectantly at Gordon. At first, it seemed he’d refuse to go with them. Finally, he sighed and stood up. “So am I.”

  The three went to the river and climbed onto their raft. They poled across the Fortymile River to Fort Constantine, the North West Mounted Police post. The fort, constructed in 1895, was the first NWMP post in the Yukon River area. It had been named after Inspector Charles Constantine, who the person who administered the mining regulations in the territory.

  The three men ran their raft onto the shore and jumped off, then walked up to the high walls of the fort and Sam opened the tall gates.

  Each man filled out the forms and paid the fifteen dollar entry fee from the gold Donald had found. Once the claims were legally theirs, the three re-crossed the Fortymile River.

  Now that they’d filed their claims Sam hoped that maybe Gordon would be more cheerful and positive. They walked to the trading post and began to lay out all the supplies and equipment they would need.

  “I hear you guys have claims on Rabbit Creek,” the man behind the counter said. “Do you think it will pay?”

  Sam shrugged. “We found some gold but have no idea how well it will pay. We’re just willing to give it a try.”

  “Carmack certainly thinks it’s worth something. He sure got the men riled up about a big strike.”

  “Yes, we met all the rafts and boats yesterday on our way here,” Donald laughed. “They sure were excited. And they’ll be even more so when they get to the creek and find some gold.”

  “It will turn out to be a bust just like so many others,” Gordon grouched.

  So much for a more cheerful and positive attitude.

  * * *

  “I’m going to see if I can find Miss Millett,” Pearl said to Emma, as she picked up her writing booklet and sketchpad. Sam had mentioned a number of people he thought she would be interested in interviewing and Miss Millet, a missionary teacher at the school, had been one of them. Pearl wanted to learn her story. “Do you want to come with me?”

  “No. Donald asked me to meet him at the café for lunch.”

  “Oh, he’s working fast. He probably realizes that he shouldn’t have ignored you years ago.”

  Emma blushed. “He’s just being nice.”

  “Sure he is.” Pearl nodded knowingly. “I’ll be back later this afternoon.”

  Pearl followed the directions Sam had given her to the school. He hadn’t been sure if Miss Millet would be there since most of the children were at summer fishing and hunting camps with their parents. As she neared the one story log building, she noticed a few native children playing outside. Pearl approached the young woman sitting on a bench watching them.

  “Excuse me, are you Miss Millet?”

  The woman looked up at Pearl. “Yes.”

  “My name is Pearl Owens and I’ve just arrived in Fortymile”

  “Are you related to Sam Owens?”

  “Yes, he’s my cousin. I came here with his sister, Emma. I’m writing some articles on people who live here for my newspaper back home and Sam said I should talk with you.”

  “He did?”

  Why did everyone seem so surprised that she wanted to learn about their lives? “Yes, he said you came here from Ireland as a missionary.”

  “That, I did.”

  “Did you start the school?”

  “No, I came to take over the teaching duties from Mr. Benjamin Totty in 1893.”

  “So, you’ve been here three years. How do you like it?”

  Miss Millet smiled slightly. “That depends on the season.”

  “Okay, tell me about the seasons and what you like or dislike about them.”

  “Summer is lovely except for the mosquitoes. The daylight is long, the days are warm. Autumn is beautiful with its colourful leaves. But it is also a depressing time. That is when the sternwheelers quit coming, leaving us without contact for the winter.”

  “Yes, I noticed the excitement when the boat I travelled on stopped at all the places along the river. Does the whistle always sound?”

  Miss Millet nodded. “The whistle sounds no matter what time of the day or night the boat arrives. Everyone heads to the river to see who has come and to get any newspapers and letters they’ve been sent. Some of those letters are up t
o a year old, but no one minds. We are always happy to receive something from home.”

  “I’ve heard the winters are very cold here. Is that true?”

  “I’ve woken in the morning to find my blanket fringed with icicles from my breath.”

  A young boy came over to the women and began talking to Miss Millet in his native language. Miss Millet answered and the boy grinned and ran off.

  “What did he say?”

  “He came to remind me that it’s almost lunch time.”

  “What is the language?”

  “It’s Tukudh. Bishop Bompas, who has been a travelling minister in the north for years, taught me.”

  Pearl looked at the small group of children. “Sam said most of the children are gone with their parents.”

  “Yes, we don’t really have a school during the summer. But I am here in case some of them stay back or return early.”

  Chapter Seven

  “How was your lunch with Donald?” Pearl asked Emma, when she got back to the cabin.

  “It was lovely. We talked and talked.”

  “About what?”

  “About our childhoods, him not noticing me when we were younger, what he’s been doing since he came here, gold panning, me quitting my job as a receptionist to come with you, everything.” Emma sighed happily. “He’s just as wonderful as I remember and I really think he likes me this time. We were having a good time until Sam barged in and demanded that Donald help them load their supplies onto the raft. They left us the stove in the cabin saying they could purchase one at the store.”

  “When are they going?”

  “I watched them leave about a half hour ago. Their raft was so loaded they could hardly make any headway with their poles.”

  “I want to sketch some of the buildings of the town,” Pearl said. “Do you want to come with me?”

  “Yes, I could use some exercise.”

  When they reached the water, they met Ethel Berry sitting with a huge pile of supplies, furniture, and equipment on the shore.

  “What are you doing?” Pearl asked.

  “Waiting to catch the next sternwheeler going up river. I’m taking all these to our new claim.”

  “Is another boat coming again so soon after the one we were on?”

  “There are two trading companies that have posts in the north and each one has boats that come up the river to deliver supplies, mail, and passengers and to pick up return mail and prospectors heading south. They usually come within a few days of each other.”

  “Is there a settlement where you are going?” Emma asked.

  “No. We passed the mouth of the Klondike River on our way down the Yukon River this spring and from what I remember there are only a few brush buildings of a native fishing camp. From what Clarence heard, though, the gold is on a creek called Rabbit Creek which flows into the Klondike River.”

  Pearl thought about Sam’s excitement over the gold he and his friends had found. She remembered the mass exodus just the day before of men from this very shore on their way to stake claims. Rabbit Creek and the Klondike River seemed to be the place to be right now. And she wanted to be there even if Gordon thought it was no place for a woman.

  Pearl quickly made up her mind. “I’m coming with you.”

  “Really?” Emma gasped.

  “Yes. I’m going to see what is causing all this interest.”

  “Do you think that’s wise?” Ethel asked.

  “If there is a gold rush in the making, I want to be part of it.” Pearl looked at Ethel’s pile. It seemed like a lot for two people. “What do we need?”

  “That depends on how long you are staying.”

  Pearl hadn’t thought that far ahead. She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “It took me a day to amass all this.” Ethel waved her hand. “You’ll definitely need a tent to stay in, food for at least a month, and a stove for cooking and heat. I doubt that you will find someone right now to chop wood for you or make furniture so you should purchase an axe, nails, hand saw, and hammer.”

  “Maybe I should come with you,” Emma said.

  Pearl looked at her cousin. “Are you sure you want to, or should you wait here for the boat sailing out so you can return home?”

  “I’m not sure if I’m going home this fall,” she answered, with a slight smile.

  “You’d better hurry because the men will be floating back here soon to stock up on their own supplies,” Ethel said.

  “When will the steamer be here?” Pearl asked.

  “I don’t know. They don’t have a fixed schedule.”

  “Let’s get going,” Pearl said. She had sewn the majority of her money into the hem of one of her petticoats and they returned to the cabin to retrieve it. She also changed out of her rainy daisy into bloomers to make her movements easier.

  In the store, they stared at the full shelves.

  “I don’t know where to start.” Pearl felt her anxiety rising. They had to hurry. The boat could be here at any time.

  “Let me help you,” Ethel Berry said, entering the building.

  She began gathering items and setting them on the counter: flour, cornmeal, bacon, coffee, tea, sugar, salt, pepper, beans, candles, five boxes of matches, canned milk, and dried potatoes, vegetables, and fruit. She looked at the man packaging the supplies into boxes. “They also need a tent, a wood stove, frying pan, dishes, cutlery, and bedding.”

  “We have our own bedding, dishes, and cutlery,” Pearl said. “But what about mattresses for sleeping on?”

  The man shook his head. “Don’t have any of those.”

  “Sam left the cabin stove for us to use,” Emma said. “We can take it.”

  Ethel continued to rattle off a list until they had a pile on the counter and another on the floor in front of it. Emma and Pearl shared the cost but it took most of Pearl’s money to pay her share. So much for having enough to live here for a year, she thought.

  The three women carried the supplies out to the shore and set them beside Ethel’s pile. Once they finished, Pearl and Emma returned to the cabin and packed up their trunks with their clothing and toiletries and the dishes they had bought. They removed the stovepipe and tin fireguard, careful of the soot that fell out.

  “I wonder if we can take their table and chairs.”

  “Sam said we could stay in their cabin as long as we want,” Emma said. “That means they are ours, so I guess we can. It will save us having to build our own because I have no idea how to do that.”

  Pearl looked around the room wondering what else they could use. “Too bad the bunks are nailed to the wall.”

  “How are we going to move the stove?” Emma asked. She went to one corner and tried to lift it. It barely moved.

  “I wonder if there are any men around to help us.” Pearl stepped outside and looked. Two men were coming towards them. They appeared to be drunk.

  “Excuse me,” Pearl said. “Would you mind helping us move our stove?”

  One man took off his hat. “We aresh at your shervice,” he slurred, making a sweeping bow. He staggered and almost fell over.

  Pearl wasn’t sure if she should just tell them to carry on or enlist their help.

  “We need them,” Emma whispered.

  Pearl nodded.

  It was a slow process to move the stove from the cabin to the beach. The men alternated between wanting to show off their weight-lifting skills by insisting they could carry it by themselves to stumbling and dropping their side. But finally the four of them reached Ethel and their supplies and they gratefully set it down. Pearl offered the men payment but they refused.

  “Tomorrow, we are going to shtake a gold claim,” one of them said. He hooked his arm over his buddy’s shoulders. “Wesh going to be rich.”

  “What about our trunks?” Emma asked.

  “I think we should do those ourselves.”

  When the boat didn’t arrive by dusk, the three women ate their evening meal at the restaurant and spent the
night in the three bunks of the cabin. They’d just finished their breakfast in the restaurant the next morning when they heard the whistle and saw the Alaska Commercial steamer Arctic come into sight. It docked at the NWMP wharf since that was where the trading company had its post. The women watched the crew unload its supplies. It was almost lunchtime before the boat churned over to where they waited.

  Pearl and Emma stayed out of the way while Ethel directed the crew loading their supplies, then they carefully followed Ethel up the sloping plank onto the crowded little vessel. The lower deck barely cleared the water line. As the boat plied its way upriver, they went to the deck above to watch the scenery. Among the men already on board, was a young couple with a boy about ten years old.

  Ethel went up to them. “Hello, my name is Ethel Berry and these are my friends, Pearl and Emma Owens.”

  “Oh, I’m so glad to meet other ladies this far from civilization.” the small, lithe woman exclaimed. “My name is Isabel Drury and this is my husband Henry and our son Gregory.”

  Henry was a tall, slender man. He raised his hat to the women. Gregory was blond and blue eyed. He bowed to the women like a miniature gentleman.

  “Isn’t he cute?” Ethel smiled.

  Gregory grinned impishly at her then with a quick look at his father, took off at a run.

  “Gregory!” Henry called. “Get back here!”

  Pearl could hear his joyous laughter as he dodged in and out of the men on the deck on his way to the stairs. He looked back then scurried down them.

  Henry went over to the top of the stairs. “Gregory!” Apparently, Gregory ignored him, because Henry started down the stairs.

  “He can be a bit of a handful at times,” Isabel smiled.

  “He seems full of vim and vinegar,” Ethel said.

  They heard a scuffle below and then Gregory’s laughter again. Soon they saw Gregory coming up the stairs on his father’s shoulders. His eyes sparkled with delight. It was obvious that the two of them had a great relationship.