"Soup?" queried the lady as they took their seats. The cook filled two flat tin plates with a watery solution of tomatoes and rice. This they attacked. When the soup was finished two other tin plates were handed them, laden with cubical chunks of beef and gravy. Dishes of potatoes and boiled beans, with bread and b.u.t.ter in tin bowls, were lined upon the counter for each man to help himself from. At the end of the second course a plate, bearing a quarter section of sickly-looking apple-pie, was slid over to each.
The old lady presiding wore the smile of prosperity, and looked communicative, so John opened conversation. "Been in Skagway long?"
"Just a month."
"Doing well?"
"Sure thing! feed about three hundred people a day. Don"t care if the rush never lets up."
"You"ve got a gold-mine here without the trouble of going to Dawson."
"Sure!--that is if Soapy don"t put the whole town out of business. He makes the saloons and gambling-halls pay him royalty now, besides running shows himself; and I guess he"ll be after us soon to make us anti-up too."
"I thought Alaska was a prohibition territory, no whisky sold here."
"Yes, that"s what they say back East; but when you get up town you"ll find every second place a saloon with all the hootch you want to drink, or have money to pay for."
"But how do they get the whisky?"
"Oh, that"s easy enough. The hootch is consigned through to the Canadian side in bond; but when it is landed here they drill a hole in the barrel and take out the whisky. They refill the barrel with water, and it is packed over the summit."
"But it costs thirty cents a pound to put the water over the summit!"
"That don"t matter--with whisky fifty cents a gla.s.s over the bar."
"Don"t the officers know this is going on?"
"Sure thing they do; but they "stand in. There is no graft like a whisky graft."
"Stand in" and "graft"!--the two Australians felt they knew the meaning of the terms, but they had yet to grasp how deep the meaning of "standing in" and "grafting," as understood by officialdom in Alaska and the Yukon, could be.
Berwick and his friend ate their pie, and departed to see the sights.
The main street of the town ran due north and south, and was lined with tents and buildings, finished and under construction. The street was devoid of snow, except in patches here and there; the ever-persistent wind from the north having generally swept the gravel clean. Sleighs, drawn by dogs or horses, pa.s.sed smoothly over the ice, but shrieked in protest against the stone. Dogs and horses seemed everywhere in that rush of fifty thousand men. No man could enter the Yukon without a year"s provisions, which meant that he must transport at least a thousand pounds in every case.
Along the streets vehicles were waiting to transport vast stores of supplies to White Pa.s.s City, twelve miles distant; after which dog-teams alone, or pack-animals, or the labour of the human animal, were necessary. Some pack-horses, mules, and burroes were pa.s.sing down the streets to their stables, after having carried up their loads.
Men in outlandish garb were walking about; many wore what appeared to be night-shirts coming down to their knees, with hoods attached, and rings of fur around the wrists and the face of the hood. Some of the peculiar garments were made of blue drill, others even of bed-ticking, showing its dingy stripes. This garment was the parka.
Berwick and Bruce entered the Pack-Train Saloon and Gambling-hall, and met there the leaders of Alaska society: men and women of diverse morals and immoralities. In the great grab-bag system of the goldfields every man has an equal chance; and on the frontier custom affords but one field of diversion, which each may enjoy to the full extent of his purse and inclination. As muscle and endurance alone give eminence on the trail, so only money and extravagance command attention in the bar-room and at the gaming-table; and it is there that the illiterate squander their money over the bars and tables, finding pleasure in the open-mouthed admiration of the yokel as well as in the stimulation of the liquor or the excitement of the play.
At the bar of the Pack-Train stood a row of men, in widest diversity of costume, talking together and to women numbered among the fallen. Behind the bar were the roulette-wheel, the faro, the Black Jack tables, and the c.r.a.p game. A large percentage of these men were actively engaged in putting supplies over the Pa.s.ses, and were now squandering at the tables the money received in payment of that work. The thought struck John that probably not a man of them, wasting his money there, but had some one dependent to whom that money would be as a gift from heaven. Alas, for the recklessness of frontier life, where it so often happens that men regard a show of contempt for money as tantamount to personal eminence!
Such scenes were not new to him. On the plains in his apprenticeship he had seen a cowboy shoot his revolver through a bar mirror--and cheerfully pay the exorbitant recompense demanded by the proprietor: and in Sydney he had watched a drunken sailor place a five-pound note between two slices of bread--and eat it!
Such scenes as this in the mushroom Alaska town may be ever-interesting to the students of human nature; they are also intensely pitiable, as Berwick found. What sight is sadder than that which shows man degraded, or woman fallen? Man, the n.o.blest being in all creation; upbuilt, evolved through the ages; practically perfect in his parts: his body complex yet true; delicate and confident, enriched with a mind capable of holding dominion; and conscious of the inspiration of his Creator. To see him, mind and body, lost to dissipation, drawn from hope, truth, and love, fallen into the mire, is truly sadder than death.
From the Pack-Train Saloon the two friends visited several shops, and, notwithstanding the crowds therein, succeeded in adding to their supplies such necessities as were recommended by Hugh Spencer. Their purchases completed, they turned before the wind and went back to the restaurant. The air had taken on a greater chill; the mountain peaks shone with sunset gold.
CHAPTER V
SOAPY"S LITTLE GAME
"Soapy" Smith was a criminal, with a long record of robbery and murder.
In early life he had been a common "faker" and sold soap, hence his sobriquet. His process consisted of wrapping small bits of laundry soap in paper, and including--or appearing to include--with several of the pieces a bank bill of varying value. Then he would mix all the pieces together, and picking a handful out of the ma.s.s, auction them. Needless to say every successful purchaser was a confederate!
In the Mining Camps of the Western States he later took more radical methods, making many enemies and some friends. When he and his gang wished to exterminate an enemy they would hunt him out in some saloon, gather about him, and play at fighting among themselves. Revolvers would be drawn and shots fired--the man "wanted" would be killed. It would be somewhat hard to find the actual man who fired the fatal shot, and, in any case, a subservient jury would bring in a verdict of "accidental"
death.
The community that grew at the head of the Lynn Ca.n.a.l in the spring of 1898 was a complete hotbed for crime. There Soapy Smith established himself, and law and justice ceased to exist. Gold-seekers were enticed into games, and fleeced or openly robbed in the streets. Every saloon was owned by the desperado, or paid him tribute, and he drew revenue from every gambling-table.
Soapy Smith was the boss of these evil conditions. He was styled "Colonel," and spoken of as a candidate for Congress. A body of United States Regulars were stationed at Skagway, but did nothing. The Deputy United States Marshal would make promises, but take no action.
The second evening after the arrival of our party in Skagway the sky was overcast, and through the night a storm arose. So they stayed within doors all the next day; but towards night inaction told on them, likewise lack of fresh air. They became restless after their evening meal, and George finally said: "Let us go out"--and they went. George did not say where--nor did John ask. There was only one place to go to, and that was a saloon and gambling-hall: one was much the same as the other. Every saloon was a gambling-hall: every gambling-hall a saloon.
On the next night, in the vicinity of Skagway"s Sixth Avenue, they wandered into a saloon which had no sign: the question of what its name was did not cross their minds! The air was foul, and floor s.p.a.ce not too plentiful. Women stared at them, and "Pa.s.sed them up." Not so the men.
They moved on to the gaming-tables. John threw a coin on to the Black Jack table. To his surprise he won. He speculated again: again he won.
Then he remembered the old dodge of letting the novice win a bit at first, so he decided he would keep on until he found himself losing.
When he had won twenty dollars he put the money into his pocket, and went on with George to watch a man playing for heavy stakes at roulette.
At this table there was never a word spoken, and the gold pieces pa.s.sed from banker to player, from player to banker, without comment.
While the two were looking on they noticed a man come and stand by the banker, watch the game for a little while, glance shrewdly at them, and go away. Shortly afterwards another man did the same. John and George realised this attention, but said nothing. A third man came along, and bluntly asked them,
"Ever play roulette?"
"No; at least not often," said John.
"Good game."
"Yes."
"Ever shoot c.r.a.ps?"
"No."
"There"s a table down at the end of the hall. Care to see it?"
They followed their entertainer to the dimly-lighted rear, where several men were leaning over a table throwing dice. They watched the game a bit, and found it uninteresting. They turned to go, when their new acquaintance made a move to follow--and asked in a hesitating way, "Have a drink?"
George declined.
The fellow pondered a bit, and then said in an ingratiating way, "Would you fellows like to see a big mountain goat I bought from the Siwashes to-day?"
John and George followed the man through a doorway into a cold room where a few candles were burning on a rough table. On the floor lay an immense mountain goat.