Gold-Seeking on the Dalton Trail: Being the Adventures of Two New England Boys in Alaska and the Northwest TerritoryThompson, Arthur R. (Arthur Ripley)
General
Gold-Seeking on the Dalton Trail: Being the Adventures of Two New England Boys in Alaska and the Northwest Territory
Thompson, Arthur R. (Arthur Ripley)
Klondike River Valley (Yukon) -- Gold discoveries -- Fiction
Uncle Will did not return on the following afternoon or evening, and
the watchers attributed his tardiness to contrary winds. All the second
day as well they looked for him in vain. Nor could the little party at
Pyramid Harbor accomplish the work they had planned. Roly was in good
trim again, excepting a very sore chest, but the Indian canoe which had
transported their goods was now on the far side of the harbor, and no
other was to be had. Furthermore, the trail followed the beach, which
was free from snow, and unfit for sledding. There was nothing to do
but wait for Uncle Will and the boat he had hired. In the mean time,
letters were written in the hope of an opportunity of mailing them.
Early on the third morning, they saw the little white sail enter the
harbor's mouth. Breakfast was hurriedly finished, and by the time the
boat's keel grated on the stones the tents were down, dishes packed,
and everything ready for embarkation.
The sloop had a capacious cabin, which took up so much of the available
space that it was found impossible to put more than one sled on board.
She could carry the other supplies, however, and one passenger in
addition to the boatman. Uncle Will invited his brother to be the
passenger, saying that for himself he would be glad of a chance to
stretch his legs on shore.
Mr. Bradford therefore climbed into the boat and seated himself on
a sack of rice, while the others waded into the water in their high
rubber boots, and pushed the heavily laden vessel away from the beach.
Then they took up their march along the water's edge, dragging their
empty sleds after them.
In some places it was possible to take advantage of the snow where the
ground above the beach was level and clear of trees, but for the most
part it was hard travelling, the sleds apparently weighing more and
more as they proceeded. Roly found himself looking around more than
once, under the impression that some one for a joke had added a rock to
his load, but he was always mistaken.
"Whew!" he gasped, as he stopped to wipe the perspiration from his
face. "If an empty sled is so hard to pull over these stones, I don't
see how we are ever going to draw a loaded one."
"It's a good deal easier to draw a loaded sled on the snow-crust," said
Uncle Will, encouragingly, "than it is to overcome the friction of a
light weight here. To-morrow we shall be on the ice, which is even
better than the crust."
"How far are we going to-day?" asked David.
"About three miles. We shall not try to go beyond the cave."
The attention of the boys was attracted by the noise of a waterfall
which they could see imperfectly through the trees. The water dashed
over a perpendicular cliff about one hundred feet high, and was almost
enclosed by a sparkling structure of ice.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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