Except where we take on fuel there are no settlements on the Yukon between White Horse and Dawson. The country is much the same as it was when the cave dwellers, the ancestors of the Eskimos, wrought with their tools of stone. For a distance of four hundred and sixty miles we do not see a half dozen people at any stop of the steamer, although here and there are deserted camps with the abandoned cabins of prospectors and wood choppers. One such is at Chisana, near the mouth of the White River. The town was built during the rush to the Chisana gold mines, and it was for a time a thriving village, with a government telegraph office, a two-story hotel, and a log stable that could accommodate a dozen horses and numerous sled dogs. The White Pass and Yukon Company built the hotel and the stable, expecting to bring the miners in by its steamers and to send them into the interior with horses and dogs. It did a good business until the gold bubble burst and the camp “busted.” To-day the Chisana Hotel is deserted, all the cabins except that of the wood chopper are empty, and under the wires leading into one of them is a notice: “Government telegraph, closed August 3, 1914.” The woodman’s cabin is open. A horseshoe is nailed over the door and a rifle stands on the porch at the side. On the wall at the back of the hut a dog harness hangs on a peg. The skin of a freshly killed bear is tacked up on one side, and bits of rabbit skins lie here and there on the ground. The cabin itself is not more than eight feet in height. It is made of logs, well chinked with mud and with earth banked up about the foundation. There is a weather-strip of bagging nailed to the door posts. The door is a framework filled in with pieces of wooden packing boxes for panels. Entering, we find that there are two rooms. One is a kitchen, and the other a living room and bedroom combined. Three cots, made of poles and covered with blankets, form the beds. There are some benches for seats and a rude table stands under the window. Various articles of clothing hang from the walls or lie upon the floor. In the kitchen a table is covered with unwashed dishes. There is a guitar on the shelf near the stove and a pack of cards on a ledge in the logs. The whole is by no means inviting, but I doubt not it is a fair type of the home of the prospectors and woodsmen throughout this whole region. I have seen most of the great rivers of the world--the Rhine, the Danube, the Volga, the Nile, the Zambesi, the Yangtse, and the Hoang Ho. I know the Hudson, the Mississippi, the Ganges, the Indus, and the Irrawaddy, as well as the Amazon and the Parana, and many other streams of more or less fame. But nowhere else have I seen scenery like that along the Yukon. We seem to have joined the army of early explorers and to be steaming through a new world. We pass places Where the mountains are nameless, And the rivers all run God knows where.