It was the voice of the far-off, mysterious, and unconquered North!
XII
THE RAT PORTAGE
Before our young adventurers now lay the most dangerous part of their entire journey in the northern wilderness--that famous Rat Portage over the Rockies, at which, twenty years earlier, so many parties bound for the Klondike met disaster. Our young friends had no guides to lead them through this unknown country, any more than had the first Klondikers in the gold stampede which came down the Mackenzie and undertook to get across to the Yukon. No map of that region existed, or at least not in the knowledge of any of our party. They were, therefore, as helpless as any explorers ever were in any portion of the world, and were about to venture into a country as wild as any upon the North American continent.
It was no wonder, then, that their leader, himself a wise and cautious man and well versed in all the expedients of outdoor life, hesitated and pondered, as, standing upon the high crest of Fort McPherson boat landing, he looked out to the low, dull slopes of the Rockies, far ahead. He had heard all the stories about this risky undertaking, and had been cautioned repeatedly by the old trader at Fort McPherson against endeavoring to get through with no companions but these young boys. He knew that his supplies would be no more than sufficient, and that there was no place to get further supplies. Above all, he pondered over the dissimilarity of opinions expressed about the distances and difficulties of the proposed route across the Rockies.
Some said it was a hundred miles to the summit, others said seventy-five, others a hundred and forty. Some said it would take a week to get to the top, others two weeks, others three, and yet others said it could not be done at all. Some said there was one lake at the portage on the summit, others said there were five. No one could give any clear idea of the country that lay out yonder beyond the dull, brown tundra.
It was a mysterious land, potent with difficulties and possibly alive with dangers. Uncle d.i.c.k loved these young companions of his beyond all price, and he knew his own responsibility in undertaking to lead them through. At times he regretted the whole journey as a mad enterprise which never ought to have been taken on. But at length, like any born leader, he pitted the difficulties against the privileges, made his decision; and, having made it, adhered to it.
"We"ll start, boys," said he, "and start to-morrow."
Since, therefore, these young travelers did make this dangerous journey which had proved impossible for so many older _voyageurs_, it may be well to allow Rob to tell in his own fashion the story of their crossing of the Rockies on the old Rat Portage. Rob kept his notes from day to day during the remainder of their stay at Fort McPherson.
"_Sunday, July 13th._--Cloudy and overcast. Lucky we got our pictures of the Midnight Sun--this is about the last chance.
We have been living at the Mounted Police barracks. The old trader keeps to his own house. Uncle d.i.c.k says he was to get us our supplies. We have mended the canoe we brought down on the steamboat. Not very big for four of us. Uncle d.i.c.k says he has got two Loucheux Indian boys, Johnny and w.i.l.l.y, to meet us at the mouth of the Rat River and help us to track up that river to the top. Uncle d.i.c.k seems uneasy. We told him not to bother about us. The independent trader with a scow of furs is going to try to get across. We ought to beat them over.
"_Wednesday, July 16th._--Such fuss and fooling around n.o.body ever saw. But we"re on our way with at least some supplies. Glad we brought a shot-gun and a fishing-rod. Off at 4.15. At 7.30 reached a creek coming into the Husky River from a chain of lakes. Never saw so many fish in my life as there were of the "connies." We caught plenty for a day or so. Mosquitoes bad in camp. Rain.
"_Friday, July 18th._--Late start, 10.30. At 1.30 made the mouth of the Rat and picked up the two Indians. This famous stream is a deep, narrow creek. Mosquitoes the worst I ever saw. Ate lunch in headnets. Have to write with gloves on.
Current sluggish. We still can paddle up-stream. It is at least seventy-five miles, possibly a hundred, to the top.
"At 11.15 thought we were near Destruction City, the old Klondike camp where so many died. Some women wintered here.
Must have been an awful bunch of tenderfeet. We are maybe ten to fifteen miles above the mouth of the Rat. Sh.o.r.es sandy and covered with willows. Cooked a pot of beans. We have a few beans, a little tea, some dried fruit, a little flour, and some side-meat for grease. Not much more. Fish are said to be plenty, also plenty of ptarmigan and rabbits farther up. Pretty tired to-night. Have done maybe twenty miles.
"_Sat.u.r.day, July 19th._--Current stiffer. Pa.s.sed a creek coming from Black Mountains. Sh.o.r.es began to change in the afternoon. Tundra coming down to banks. Began to see rocks on sh.o.r.e--glad to see them after so much mud and willow flats. At 4 P.M. made Destruction City--probably twenty-five miles above the mouth of the Rat. Going slower than we thought, as we hoped to make this yesterday. Caught some big trout, very fine to eat. They take the fly splendidly. At 5 P.M. we laid aside the paddles and had to begin to track.
The Indians are patient now, and very useful. Tracking is beastly hard work. You put a collar around your breast and shoulder. We had to walk in the water. Uncle d.i.c.k and the Indians and I took turns. John steered pretty well. All got our feet and legs wet a hundred times. Jesse went along sh.o.r.e most of the way. The canoe rode light, and we made pretty good time.
"_Sunday, July 20th._--Mosquitoes still with us. Rain lets up. We have been sleeping pretty wet, but don"t mind.
Rerigged our tracking-line. Got some pictures. Started at 10.30 and traveled nearly five hours to foot of a bad rapid above a deep pool. Camped on a beach. Made a big fire to dry our clothes. We are wet all the time, all of us. Jesse shot three rabbits. He hunts while we track the boats. We don"t let him get out of sight very far. I saw one lynx to-day.
Astonishing how little game we have been seeing on this whole trip in this big wild country. Saw an abandoned Klondike camp. They say they are scattered through all these woods here. Sometimes they have found skeletons since. A boy was lost in here and found dead. Traces of the big Klondike migration now getting scarce. Saw some iron on the beach, and ax marks on trees.
"_Monday, July 21st._--Heavy going. Hard strain on all of us. Think this would try the best sort of man if he had heavy supplies along in his boat. We have to hurry or we won"t have enough to eat. Lunch at 2 P.M. Saw the mountains far ahead. A great sight. They seem not more than twenty-five miles. Indian boys very useful, quiet, and patient. One says he paid twenty-five dollars for his hat at the trading-post. It was worth about two dollars in the States. Saw some blazed trees. This was written on one, "Colin"s rifle in tent here 25th." Don"t know what this meant, but suppose a party had split and some gone ahead, and left word. Gum had grown all over the writing. Saw some more sled irons. Jesse got eight rabbits and two ptarmigan.
We make a stew and keep putting more things in it as we travel along.
"_Tuesday, July 22d._--We started about 10 o"clock this morning. Take turns on the line, each going as fast and as far as he can, until he gets pretty tired. Saw a coal seam in a cut rock wall on the bank. Mounted a series of heavy rapids all day. At 7 P.M. hit a canon and had hard work to get up the rapids, for almost a mile. All worn out. Camp 8.30. Jesse plumb f.a.gged out. Everybody wet. We dried our clothes around the fire before we went to bed. Can see how hard this would be for real tenderfeet. Found an old Klondike shack, fallen in, this afternoon, apparently deserted nearly twenty years. Caught some splendid Arctic trout on the fly--the gamest fish we ever saw, and mighty good to eat. They look like sea-trout, although they are a hundred and fifty miles from the sea here. Our camp in a round pocket to-night. The canon bends sharp to the right.
Can see one mountain ahead, but not the big range. John making a map all the time. Stories told us no use this far; things don"t check out.
"_Wednesday, July 23d._--Off at 10.30. Much to our joy, have fine tracking nearly all day. Rapids less powerful, and bends wider, and better beaches to walk on. At 6.30 pa.s.sed a small creek and explored it. Nowhere near summit yet. We thought we logged twelve miles to-day. Probably haven"t averaged half that the other three days. It looks mighty puzzling on ahead. They told us to look out for a sharp, high peak which marked the portage. We can"t figure it out.
They told us to look for a river coming from the right. We don"t find one. We seem a long way from the summit. Camp 9.30 on rocky flat. Trout and grayling both for supper. Very fine.
"_Thursday, July 24th._--Haven"t slept very well. Everybody getting sore and tired. Don"t think we went over four or five miles all day to-day. Uncle d.i.c.k called it "unmitigated h.e.l.l." Water icy cold now and very fast and heavy. A great many round, smooth stones in the river, so we can hardly walk. Our shoes are worn out, and we are only wearing double moccasins, so that our feet can hardly stand it. Uncle d.i.c.k fell down once and hurt his leg pretty bad. An accident might happen any time. The Indian boys are tired but game.
When we asked them how far to the top they said, "I dinno,"
which is about all the English they have. Current getting worse and worse, and the bad part is that the water is so shallow that in places it is hard to get even our light canoe through. We have to make crossings, and then there is risk of the boat swinging down and pulling us off our feet.
I suppose a fellow would drown with the track-line around him. Mighty hard work. At nine o"clock the two Indian boys all in, and had to stop. At ten I went up with Uncle d.i.c.k to explore. A river came from the right, so we thought this was the junction of which they told us at McPherson. Went back and got the rest and camped here about midnight. Tundra under the trees. Couldn"t drive tent-pegs for ice. A bad camp. Everybody tired.
"Here we found the Summit Tree, not far from the beach. It says: "Summit Tree. Please register." Many names under date of 1898. Couldn"t read all of them. A grizzly had registered on this tree, too--sc.r.a.ped the bark off high up. Some names we saw were Watt, Goldheim, Marks, Jones, etc. As is the custom, we cut our names in, too, with the date, so that others might see them. We slashed down the brush to the water so that any others coming in now might see this tree easier and so know where they were. If we had not found this tree we would not have been sure we had reached the summit.
Well, we are mighty glad, anyhow. Wet and tired, but pretty confident. Not much grub. Some rapids!
"_Friday, July 25th._--So tired we slept late. Everybody stiff. Took the left-hand creek that comes in here, and had a hard pull over a little cataract. This should be called Summit Creek. It doesn"t seem to have any name. It runs narrow, and fringed with alders. Very crooked. Saw some jack-snipe and a robin to-day, up here on the summit of the Rockies, almost at the Arctic Sea and above the Arctic Circle!
"We had to drop the line in the brush here and use paddle and pole. Went for an hour and a half and then could see lake on the right. Small creek coming in. Another lake ahead. Everything was blank. It looked like a big country and we had no map. John set down everything as we found it out for ourselves. We climbed the foot-hills to look about.
Of course we wanted to find the headwaters of the Bell River, or rather the Little Bell, which runs into the Big Bell, and then into the Porcupine, which runs into the Yukon, but we did not know which gap held the headwaters of the Bell. On the left we saw a chain of little lakes, four or five of them. Supposed there might be channels, so bore to left toward these lakes. We"re now on a flat country high up, with rock walls far away on either side and mountains on ahead. We are on the tundra now. It is broken up into humps. The French call them "_tetes des femmes_," or "woman heads," because of the long gra.s.s that hangs down from the top. Mighty hard to walk over. There is a land portage from Fort McPherson to the summit. A Catholic priest has made it, and he used snow-shoes on these "woman heads,"
although there was no snow. A man could hardly walk in any other way.
"We left two lakes to the right, followed the creek, and came to an old landing. Camped at 6 P.M. to eat. Instead of two lakes up here there are five! We don"t know where we are going, but are hanging to our creek. Signs of a portage other side of the lake, so guess we are on the right trail.
This is a blind pa.s.s. Some danger, I suppose. We are not scared. We all hang together, because any one left here would be helpless.
"_Sat.u.r.day, July 26th._--Flies not so bad. Tried out our creek farther and came into third small lake. Cut a portage into next lake. The creek is very blind--wanders around through the willows and gra.s.s. Jesse and John got away for an hour or two to-day, and were lost; they went to the right where we thought the channel ran, but it didn"t go there.
Everybody much scared. The last portage is on ahead, six hundred yards from Summit Lake to Loon Lake. Everybody seems to forget these other little lakes, which are confusing. We see signs of old ax-work, so think we must be on the trail.
The Hudson"s Bay people have used this in the past as well as the Klondike outfits. These latter people must have had an awful time getting over.
"The whole country of the Rat and the country on the summit in this pa.s.s may be called altogether new and unknown to any one. We had to find it as much as if no one had ever been there before, except one or two places we saw where men had been. There is no map of it. Now we have made two short portages and one long portage in getting to Loon Lake; and Loon Lake, we are pretty sure, drains into the headwaters of the Bell River.
"This creek is so shallow we have to drag our boat across the tundra. w.i.l.l.y had gone on ahead, and says he has found the Bell River. It is not anywhere near where we thought it was. I thought the pa.s.s lay far off to the right. Opposite our camp on Loon Lake there is a "sharp, high peak," all right, and this no doubt is the one the traders told us about. The trouble is when you say "sharp, high peak" you may see any one of fifty which you think is the right one, and it may be wrong.
"Found the new creek, which we think is the Little Bell, down a deep bank. Plenty of water and plenty of current. It looks as if it ran back into the mountains fifteen or twenty miles. No one knows anything about it. No one knows anything about this country at all. We call ourselves explorers as much as anybody. I am pretty sure now that this is the right "sharp, high peak." There was a trader by name of Charles Camsell came across here, and he made a sort of map. The government maps only guess at this as far as they try to describe it.
"I think it is risky to depend on loose talk of a new country like this. They told us there were only two portages and two lakes, but I have counted eleven lakes and ponds on the summit of the Rockies here. We really crossed five lakes, counting in Loon Lake, and we made two short creek portages, one long lake-to-lake portage, and one long lake-to-river portage--the five-hundred-yards drag into the Little Bell. I think this is accurate. John has it all down on his map this way. Many ptarmigan. Plenty of rabbits. The Bell River full of grayling. Never saw the like.
"Our Indian boys left us to-day. They are going back home by themselves. They have a rifle and we have given them a few beans and a little flour and a small piece of bacon--all we can spare. Uncle d.i.c.k paid them well. They have helped out very much. Without them I don"t know whether we boys could have got the boat up the Rat or not. It was mighty rough, mean work, I can say that. John and Jesse helped all they could, and so did we all. Well, here we are at the summit.
"The Midnight Sun is gone now--there was a sunset to-night.
We got to bed about 12 o"clock midnight. Sorry to have the Indian boys go back, as they were cheerful, fine chaps. They say we are all right now, and that this river runs to the Porcupine. I would rather trust an Indian than a Klondiker in getting across country.
"We are getting so we don"t like rabbits very much. The ptarmigan and grayling still taste good. Our new river is full of grayling, and we have explored it a little bit. It is fine up here in the mountains. John and Jesse and I feel that this is the greatest trip we ever had, or that anybody could have in this country. We feel more alone here than in any place we have ever been in all our lives.
"We now think we can get through."
Rob"s journal and John"s map later proved most prized possessions of our young explorers, so they were glad they kept them up, although it ever was rather unwelcome work to sit in a cramped-up tent, or out in the air among the mosquitoes, and write or draw for a long time while still tired and wet. Both of them, however, persisted till the end, and later did not regret it.
XIII
DOWN THE PORCUPINE
"I"m awfully tired, Uncle d.i.c.k," said Jesse when he sleepily rolled out of his blankets on the following morning. "It was midnight when we went to bed, and I don"t feel as though I had slept at all. Besides, it"s Sunday."
"Yes," said his uncle, "it"s Sunday, July twenty-seventh, according to my notes, and we"ve been gone from Fort McPherson one week and four days. I think we"ve made mighty good time this far, for I believe we must be considerably over a hundred miles from Fort McPherson to this place where we stand."