This faraway land of the North is the treasure cave of Jack Frost, where gold and gravel are cemented together by perpetual ice. You know of the thousands who rushed here years ago, and of the hundreds who went back loaded with riches. You may have heard how the district about Dawson, where I am writing, produced gold by the ton, the output for ten years being worth more than one hundred million dollars. In those days pockets worth hundreds of dollars were not uncommon. In August, 1899, George T. Coffey took up two shovelfuls of earth from Bonanza Creek, from which he washed sixty-three ounces of gold, worth nearly a thousand dollars. A miner by the name of MacDonald got ninety-four thousand dollars for the gold from a forty-foot patch of ground. Some of the miners on Bonanza Creek were dissatisfied if the gravel ran less than a dollar a pan. They worked the rich spots only, and when the cream had been skimmed off the surface, gave up their claims. The gold diggers were followed by corporations. They brought to the abandoned fields millions in capital and the best mining machinery. They thawed the frozen gravel with steam and scooped up the gold-bearing earth with dredges run by electricity. They carried rivers in pipes over the mountains to wash down the gold-sprinkled hills. They handled millions of tons of material, each of which yielded only a few grains of pure gold, but altogether they produced as much wealth as was taken out in those first prosperous years by the individual miners. There are two methods by which the treasure that has been left is being recovered. One is hydraulic mining and the other is dredging. Let me give you some of the pictures of the first method, as I saw it on a ride up the Klondike Valley this afternoon. I went with the resident manager of the Yukon Gold Company, the Guggenheim corporation doing most of the gold mining in the Dawson district. We flew along in a high-powered automobile, winding in and out through great piles of débris. We rode up Bonanza and Eldorado creeks, which have been dredged from one end to the other. The whole way was through a mass of gravel, rock, and earth washings. The beds of the rivers and creeks had been ploughed in great furrows many feet deep. There were places where miles of boulders, pebbles, and broken rock seemed to flow down the mountain sides into the valley. Streams of water as big around as the thigh of a man were shooting from pipes with such force that they gouged out great chunks of icy gravel. In some places the water dropped from the top of the mountain, washing down the earth in its fall. The whole gave me the impression of a mighty cloudburst that had torn down the hills and let loose avalanches of earth.