"The great discontent which actually did exist at this time found sudden and unexpected relief in the discovery of the beach diggings. It had long been known that there was more or less gold on the seashore, and before the middle of July it was discovered that good wages could be taken out of the sand with a rocker. Even those who were on the ground could hardly believe the story at first, but its truth was quickly and easily demonstrated. Before the month was over a great army of the unemployed was engaged in throwing up irregular intrenchments along the edge of the sea, and those who had just been driven nearly to the point of desperation by the exhaustion of all their resources were soon contentedly rocking out from $10 to $50 each per day and even more than that. This discovery came like a godsend to many destitute men, and was a most fortunate development in the history of the camp. "Meantime the men who were in possession of claims on Anvil and Snow creeks were beginning to sluice their ground and getting good returns for their work, while others were actively making preparations to take out the gold which they knew they had discovered. More sluice boxes were constructed and put into operation as rapidly as possible. A town site was laid off at the mouth of Snake River, and on the 4th of July a post-office was established. The town which has sprung so suddenly into existence is called 'Nome' by the Post-Office Department, but at a miners' meeting held February 28, it was decided to call it 'Anvil City,' and this is generally done by the residents of the district, as well as in all official records. At a meeting held in September, however, the name was again changed to 'Nome.'" _United States, 56th Congress, 1st session, Senate Document Number 357, pages. 1-4._ "A year ago [that is, in the winter of 1898-1899] a few Eskimo huts and one or two sod houses of white men were the only human habitations along 60 miles of the present Nome coast. Last June [1899] a dozen or score of tents contained the whole population. By October a town of 5,000 inhabitants fronting the ocean was crowded for a mile or more along the beach. Hundreds of galvanized-iron and wooden buildings were irregularly scattered along two or three thoroughfares, running parallel with the coast line. There is every description of building, from the dens of the poor prospectors, built of driftwood, canvas, and sod, to the large companies' warehouses, stores, and the army barracks—a city, as it were, sprung up in the night, built under the most adverse circumstances on the barren seacoast, a coast without harbor, all the supplies being landed through the surf. … The country contributes nothing toward the support of the population except a few fish and a limited supply of driftwood.