Kate Sliva's first husband, whose name was Sid Barrington, had a brother named Hill Barrington who operated a small freight and passenger boat up and down the Stikine River between Wrangell, Alaska and Telegraph Creek, British Columbia. One day Barrington called me up to say that he had a man whom he would like me to meet. He turned out to be a prospector from northern British Columbia named Frank "Red" Crawford. He had bright red hair and his face was peppered with black spots, which I learned were bits of black powder, from a premature explosion, which had penetrated his skin. He had developed a serious infection and was taken 100 miles to the nearest doctor, who saved him, but left him tattooed for life.
This Red had a story about a very rich gold prospect in Northern British Columbia which he claimed to have found. He wanted someone with capital to develop it. His samples were very rich in free gold. In order to reach it one must fly from Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, or to go overland you must sail to Wrangell, Alaska, then go by river boat up the swift Stikine River to Telegraph Creek, which was a way point for the old Klondike gold rush.
Ed. note: Telegraph Creek got its name because it was a point on the failed telegraph line from the United States to London via Alaska, the Bering Straits, and Russia.
From Telegraph Creek a rough road led to Dease Lake, a long, narrow lake drained by the Dease River which runs into the Liard River which runs into the Mackenzie River.
After traveling by boat 30 miles down Dease Lake and 40 miles down Dease River one came to the mouth of McDames Creek and McDames Post. It was a Hudson's Bay trading post where one could purchase a few supplies, send and receive mail, and with the help of the HB storekeeper, send wireless messages in Morse Code to the outside world. After a 35 mile walk up McDames Creek, which was not navigable, one reached McDames Lake. The Crawford claims were about 3 miles up the mountainside south of the lake.
After studying all this on the map and making many enquiries, I made Red a proposal. This was the most challenging mine of them all. It was in virgin territory. It offered a fantastic challenge and experience. I offered Red the following proposal:
| To form a company in which we would share stock equally. I would furnish all necessary materials and supplies to start a mining and treatment operation. I would pay all bills and furnish everything to start mining. On the other hand, he was to work full time with me, and if the operation should not be successful, I would give him positively nothing, not even a ticket back home. |
He cheerfully agreed to all this and I went to work getting ready. I spent weeks listing every possible thing I should need. Nothing could be forgotten, for as you may see on the map, there was no source of supplies closer than Vancouver, B.C. I arranged to buy a small ore crushing and concentration mill made in Seattle. It was an experimental one, but it seemed to be feasible and ideal for my job, being small and portable. It consisted of a large steel tub about 4 feet in diameter and 4 feet deep, containing what resembled an enormous ball bearing, lying flat, with races having an outside diameter the same as the tub. The balls were 8 or 9 inches in diameter and the top race was held down with a strong spring. The top race was rotated around a vertical axis, driven by power from a one cylinder General Motors diesel engine. The engine also furnished power to run a small jaw crusher and an air compressor.
The crushed ore was fed into the tub full of water, where it would fall into the path of the balls that were rotating in the races and be ground up. The circulation of the water would bring the ground ore into contact with a number of mercury coated copper plates which were fastened to the inside of the tub above the top rotating race. Any gold released by the grinding process would eventually impinge upon the plates and be caught and held by the mercury on the plates.
Besides the mill machinery and mining tools, dynamite had to be provided, and between 500 and 1000 gallons of diesel oil in 20 gallon drums.
I needed a mechanic and mill operator and hired a Scotsman, McPherson, who was very efficient, though the Scotch came out at times. Food enough to feed the crew for 6 months, and cornmeal and tallow to feed the dogs who would haul our supplies by sled up the mountain, had to be provided. Any supplies which were forgotten had to come in either by airplane from Carcross, Yukon Territory, or by river and land from Wrangell, Alaska, a trip of at least 2 or 3 weeks, not to mention the steamship voyage from Vancouver, B.C. to Wrangell or Skagway. It was a 35 mile walk to McDames just to send a message to the outside world.
After making every possible preparation I began gathering the equipment and supplies for shipment to Skagway, Alaska. All food supplies were bought in Vancouver, B.C. to avoid paying duty. I sent Red Crawford ahead to make arrangements for flying the stuff in from Carcross to McDames Lake.
After departure from Seattle in late March, 1939, I traveled to Vancouver, B.C., where I took the CPR steamship to Alaska. I landed in Skagway with my cargo, took the narrow gauge White Pass & Yukon Railway to Carcross, unloaded there and prepared for the flight by ski plane to McDames Lake, which was covered with ice about 2 feet thick.
The flight to McDames Lake took us past and between great snow-covered mountains where moose and bear could sometimes be seen. After landing on the ice we soon unloaded the plane and the pilot flew back to Carcross for the rest of the cargo. There was a small prospector's cabin on the edge of the lake, to which we carried the cargo. Deep snow and ice covered everything.
Soon 3 Indians appeared with 12 large mixed-breed dogs. They were not huskies as one sees in the movies, but just plain dogs of all shapes, sizes and colors. Each team of 4 dogs was harnessed to a sled. We loaded the sleds and broke trail up the center of a creek valley filled with snow. The snow made a nice smooth but steep path up the mountain for about 3 miles. There the slope steepened to about 45° and we unloaded the sleds and stacked everything there.
After a couple of days at the lake, we moved up the mountain and put up our three tents on a flat area of snow. Before leaving Seattle I had agreed with Crawford that he was to do all the cooking. But I was so enthusiastic in lifting and carrying heavy cargo that I strained a wrist, which swelled up so I could no longer do heavy lifting. Crawford suggested that I take over the cooking, which would allow him to put in full time transporting and hauling equipment. I agreed to that and got stuck with the cooking job for the rest of the season.
It was not easy to build a fire in a little tin stove and cook meals for 6 men and 12 dogs. The poor dogs got only one meal each day. I cooked two 5 gallon cans of corn meal with some beef tallow added. I had brought 50 lbs. of this, which had been melted and poured into a paper lined box for storage. We cut out chunks with an axe and dumped them into the boiling corn meal mush, where the tallow melted. As time passed we ran short of lard for human consumption, so I switched to the tallow. No one complained.
I was first up in the morning to get breakfast, which consisted of oatmeal, sourdough bread and hot-cakes. We had a little bacon which we conserved by serving it only at Sunday breakfast, and only one piece for each of us. I had a good supply of dry prunes, apples, apricots, raisins, etc. We had plenty of beans and rice, and even a few dehydrated hash brown potatoes which we served only on Sunday morning. We had powdered milk, sugar, coffee and tea. What butter we had was soon gone. It was so cold in the tents that the sourdough bread would hardly rise, so before long I quit trying to make bread. Sourdough hot-cakes were also a failure. Fortunately we had plenty of baking powder, and I made biscuits and baking powder pancakes to make up for the lack of bread.
The Indians had good appetites and were always cheerful and friendly, but they did not treat their dogs very kindly.
As spring came the snow began to thaw and one day we began to sink through the snow into a great lot of brush. We then had to move camp. The mine location was up a very steep rocky hillside. At the base of this we excavated from the hillside a flat area big enough to set up 2 tents. All our living equipment was moved into these tents. They were set on solid ground. The little creek was near for our water supply. At first the creek was buried in the snow and ice, and was perfectly silent. The days began to be warmer. One day we suddenly heard the musical rippling of the water. There was a striking contrast between the complete silence and the sudden sound, which was quite impressive.
When all the mining and mill equipment was assembled at the base of the very steep hill we had to get it up several hundred feet higher. There was a good deal of quite small steel cable in my supplies. On top of the hill, in the snow, we buried a "dead-man", which was an anchor to pull against. I fastened a snatch-block on the dead-man and ran the light cable through it to the bottom of the steep hill. On a sled we loaded up some of the equipment. When the load was ready the 12 dogs and 5 men pulled down from the top of the hill, dragging the load up to the top. This was repeated until everything was up to the mill site. There was one mishap when a hook let go and a whole sled load came rushing back down the steep slope towards me. I was able to dodge away, and the load scattered all over. There was on case of dynamite in that load. It split apart and the dynamite flew in all directions. Some of it we did not find until after the snow melted. It the crash had set it off, I should not have been able to tell this tale.
I was not allowed to ship any dynamite from Vancouver and depended on getting it at Carcross. They did have a supply which I bought, but it had been frozen and thawed at least once. This has a tendency to make it irregular and dangerous in its explosive quality. We had trouble blasting our tunnel rock for this reason.
When all the supplies were up to the top, everyone set to work logging to get poles for construction of the mill and a cabin as well as fuel and mine props. In all we cut and hauled up about 300 poles. The timber line was well below the mine location. When all the hauling was completed I paid the Indians. If I remember correctly the men got $4.00 per day and the dogs 50¢, plus food.
The next morning it was snowing hard and everything was covered. I asked the Indians to stay until the weather cleared. Charlie Chief, the leader, said they did not mind the snowstorm, and that he was very anxious to get on down McDames Creek, where his wife was to meet him. She was expecting her first baby, and her mother was with her. He said that the baby should be born by now, and that he was very anxious to see if it was a girl or boy. He explained that they were living under a tent fly. Off they went as fast as possible down the steep hill, through the snow and soon disappearing.
Click here to see photos of mine
After my Indian friends left I went to work full speed. Crawford and I started the tunnel to intersect the gold vein, and McPherson got busy erecting the mill. After deciding where we wanted to drive it, we started cutting through a heavy snow bank. Digging through it horizontally make it a long way before we reached hard rock. It was 50 feet horizontally through snow before hitting rock. The air compressor was set up on logs resting on the snow. We drilled and blasted. A track was laid with wooden rails, and we had obtained a car to haul out the rock.
We worked very hard for long hours. We estimated that the tunnel would go about 50' before intersecting the gold vein. The mill would be completed by then. The tunnel cut the quartz vein as expected but the quartz was not like the vein material on the surface above, and contained almost no gold. We thought of following the vein to the left or right in hopes of finding gold such as was exposed on the surface. I decided against this in favor of mining the rich ore on the surface. We would have to leave the country by October due to weather and the approach of winter, and I wanted to recover as much gold as I could while there was time. We therefore started mining on the surface, blasting the ore, loading it on a sled and dragging it down the steep bank to the crusher below. Everything went on nicely for a short time, when to our consternation, the movable jaw of the rock crusher snapped in two. There appeared to be no flaws in the steel and there was no apparent reason for the failure. In order to proceed we had to get a new crusher jaw from Denver, Colorado. A plane was expected in with additional supplies as soon as the ice was out of the lake, which was taking place just then.
In the meantime I decided to start grinding the ore which had been crushed. We added some to this by breaking it finer with a hammer. I estimated that there was ½ ton available to treat in the mill.
All was ready and the ball mill started. In a very short time the mercury covered copper plates began to show a rough coating which we knew was gold.
When all of the available ore was used up I cleaned up the mill and the amalgam plates by scraping the amalgam off the plates. The amalgam was put into a retort which I had made out of a 1 foot length of 6" diameter steel pipe, a couple of pipe caps, and a piece of copper tubing. The retort was heated in a fire which evaporated the mercury, leaving the gold behind. The mercury condensed in the copper tube and was saved to be reused.
It was very exciting to clean up and weight this gold which I estimated to be worth about $500.00. If this average continued we were rich.
The expected plane arrived, landing on pontoons. On board was my son Bill, 16 years old. It was exciting to see new people and to get mail. As soon as the plane was unloaded we gave the pilot instructions to cable to Seattle where the machinery had come from and to order a new jaw as soon as possible. When it arrived in Carcross he was to immediately fly it in to us and in order to utilize the trip efficiently he was to bring in a load of diesel fuel in the 20 gallon drums.
The snow was now nearly all gone. Within about two weeks the plane came in with our crusher jaw. Crawford, Mac, Bill and I rushed down to the lake after the pilot buzzed us. We unloaded the plane and as the pilot flew away I saw a stream of water coming out of the pontoons. They were evidently very leaky.
Our job now was to carry the big steel casting up the mountain, most of which was very steep. It weighed more than 100 pounds and we took turns packing it. All the machinery worked very nicely after that, but after a while our ball mill began to vibrate and bump. Close examination showed that the steel balls as they revolved had begun to wear scallops in the races. This caused a bumping vibration, which was very bad for the machinery. The wear was much faster than expected and I knew that there were not enough spares to last the season. I decided to walk down to the Hudson's Bay Post on the Dease River for mail and to order more races and balls.
It was an interesting and exciting trip following a trail down McDames Creek for about 30 miles. The weather was beautiful. Crawford told me of a deserted former mining village called Centerville which he had laid claim to. He gave me a key to one of the houses and told me I could sleep there. In due time I came to the village. It had been a placer mining center in the 1890's but was now worked out. The cabin was filthy dirty and a great many mice ran about and over me as I slept on some very filthy blankets.
First thing in the morning, after eating a sandwich, I was on my way. Soon I came to a cabin and saw a big black barking dog. His master soon came out and I introduced myself. The young man was pleasant but seemed rather reserved. However, in a short time we became more friendly and before long my new acquaintance told me something of the history of my partner Crawford. He had heard of claim jumping, tool stealing and appropriation of anything lying loose including the abandoned town of Centerville, where Frank had put locks on many of the old houses. I told him that I had noticed a number of peculiarities about Crawford myself. He asked me if we had enjoyed the fresh moose meat which he had left with Crawford shortly after Mac and I had arrived. I then remembered that Crawford had told me of receiving some moose meat from someone, but he was sure it had been poisoned and had fed it to the dogs. This shocked me.
A couple of miles further down the trail I came to another settlement of three men who had a nice comfortable place and were also prospecting and finding a very little gold. I introduced myself and made apologies for my partner Crawford. We became good friends in a short time. I then went on to McDames Post, where I met the Hudson's Bay factor and the provincial police officer.
The weekly mail, passenger and cargo boat was expected the next day. It turned out to be a large open boat run by a gasoline engine. Among the passengers who got off was a young Indian woman, also a girl about 10 or 12 carrying a very small baby. They took off with 4 large dogs, each with a large pack on his back. The packs consisted of blankets, clothing, pots, pans and tent canvas. This little party got off quickly and without hesitation started up the trail and were soon lost to sight.
I stayed for a while to buy a few small items and to get my mail, which was a pleasure. I read my letters and bidding my friends goodbye, started up the trail. After a while I caught up with the little party of Indians and dogs. The young woman was shy, but she knew that I was the operator of the mine at McDames Lake. She told me that she was Charlie Chief's wife. The little girl was her sister and the baby was the one which Charlie had been so anxious to see. She asked me if I knew where Charlie was. I thought he was working for a man named Wing, who, with his wife and son were working a placer mine north of McDames Lake. She then told me that she had arranged with Charlie to meet him, with the children, at the junction of the Dease River and another river about 15 miles upstream from McDames. When she asked the captain to let her off at this river junction, telling him that Charlie was to meet her there, the captain refused, saying that he was afraid that Charlie, having no way of knowing when she was coming, could very possible fail to find her and she would be alone in this vast uninhabited wilderness. She told me she tried to persuade the captain to let her off but he refused, saying she would have to go on to McDames and walk in from there, where there were a few people. I then said I would be home by the next night and she begged me to try to get word to Charlie that she was on her way and he should not go to meet her as had been arranged. I promised to do this and soon left her far behind. By evening I had reached the mining camp of my friends with whom I had stayed before. After a very pleasant evening and a good sleep, I was off early in the morning. A short way up the road I again saw the Indian family. They had a small fire burning and were getting breakfast. I don't know what the dogs ate, if anything.
After a friendly greeting I hurried along keeping up a good pace all day. I walked about 12 hours with little rest. It was getting dark when I reached McDames Lake and started up the steep mountain trail to the mine. When I finally reached my camp I found to my surprise that Charlie Chief was there. The first thing he said was "have you seen my wife and baby?" I told him the whole story, to his great pleasure. Early in the morning he was off down the mountain after borrowing a pack sack and some food from me. I have never been able to explain how Charlie knew when to start off to meet his wife. If I had been at camp and not on my journey, he would have gone on to the rendezvous and failed to meet his wife. Then what would she have done after failing to met him?
After he left, Mac spoke of Charlie coming up the day before and deciding to wait for my arrival. Mac said that about an hour before I arrived, and it was black dark outside, Charlie had suddenly said "Henry is coming." He was quite certain about it. Mac asked him how he knew I was coming, for they did not know for certain. Charlie said "I can smell him." They thought this was funny, but it was the only way he could express what he felt.
We continued our surface mining and milling but no longer got the spectacular results. Each time we cleaned up our amalgamation plates, there was less gold.
As soon as my son Bill was out of school he started north. He was 16 then. He followed the same route that I had and we were very happy to see him fly in with the next plane of supplies. After he had been there a few weeks I told him to go to town for the mail. It was over 30 miles but he was tickled for the chance. I told him not to try to ford the river below the lake as it was a little dangerous, but if he went up to the other side of the lake he would find the stream smaller and a big log over it. He had a very successful trip down to the Hudson's Bay Post, making friends along the way. He was back in about a week. The first thing he said was that he had been told of a mountain where mountain sheep were plentiful and he wanted to go hunting.
As we needed fresh meat badly, I consented to let him go, but warned him to be extremely careful, because if he got lost or injured in that vast country it would be hardly possible to find him. He asked Crawford to lend him an old rifle. Since he had never fired a gun before, Crawford explained how to handle it and he fired several practice shots. After packing up a little food he was soon away and out of sight over the mountain.
We worked as usual all day until about 6 P.M. I heard a shout up on the hill and saw Bill hurrying down the mountain. My first thought was that he had gotten cold feet and did not want to make such a long journey. Soon we heard him shout "I have shot a grizzly bear." We would not believe him until he showed his arms covered with blood stains from cleaning the bear.
He told us that he had gone to the top of the first mountain ridge, then across a second ridge to a second valley. The country was rather open and he saw a long way off in a patch of grass a black animal moving about. He at first thought it was a moose, but as he came closer he could see that it was a bear. From then on he moved very carefully and slowly, always keeping rocks or humps between himself and the bear. It was busy digging and eating roots.
Bill crept along closer and closer until there was no way to hide any further. The bear was now well within range but Bill hesitated a long time before shooting. He wondered what if the bear came toward him wounded and mad. Finally making up his mind he took careful aim and fired behind the shoulder to the heart. The bear leaped high in the air, ran a few yards and dropped. Taking no chances, Bill fired several more shots and found him quite dead.
He then proceeded to skin him and dress out the carcass. He then returned to us for help with bringing it in. McPherson did not want to go, so after supper Bill and I and Crawford started out with pack-boards. It was a long hike up and down and we reached the bear at about 11:00 P.M. Since it was still fairly light I got a picture of Bill and the bear.
We cut the carcass in two and Crawford and I drew straws as to who should carry the heavy end. It fell to me. Bill carried the head, hide and liver. We reached camp about 5 o'clock in the morning pretty well bushed after twenty hours from starting work the day before.
The bear, a black one, was very tough and not very tasty. I decided to smoke a part of it for emergency rations. Crawford told me that the Indians smoked meat by hanging it over a small open fire for a long time. I tried this, making a fresh fire morning and evening. Sometimes I found that flies had laid their eggs on the meat, but I carefully brushed them off. In time the meat got very dark and hard.
By then we had built a very nice little log cabin which was most comfortable. I stored the dried smoked bear meat on some rafters above our table. One day as we were eating dinner something fell from above, landing beside my plate. I saw that it was a big fat maggot. Bill saw it also. I said nothing but snipped it onto the floor. The others had not noticed and Bill grinned. This was repeated several times without Crawford or Mac noticing. After they had gone out I got the bear meat down and found it was full of hatching maggots. I threw it all away but said nothing to the other 2 men as they were inclined to be finicky.
On the ridge far above our camp were a number of gold claims. The quartz vein was in places several feet wide and specks of yellow gold could be seen occasionally. A big company had taken an option on it and spent a great deal of money sampling the vein. They had finally abandoned it, and left behind a lot of sample containers which we flattened out and used for roofing our cabin.
I have often wondered if there is really enough gold there to be profitable. Some 25 years later I was at McDames again. The Alcan Highway had been built about 70 miles away. Subsequently an enormous deposit of asbestos was opened up about 25 miles from my old camp. I visited it in 1962. It is the biggest high quality asbestos mine in North America and has a very large mining and treatment operation. The asbestos is trucked about 75 or 100 miles to a seaport and shipped from there.
Returning to my gold mine, Crawford and McPherson wanted to work 7 days a week. I refused, saying that my father always said if you cannot make it in 6 days you cannot make it in 7. On Sunday we washed clothes or wrote letters. Sometimes we walked to visit the Wings at their hydraulic gold mine. On one such trip Bill killed a big porcupine with a club. We skinned it and took it to camp. I tried to fry some but it was too tough to chew. I put it to boil with some dry vegetables. After a few hours we got some pretty fair soup. I added more vegetables, boiled it again and got more good soup. After about three days the porcupine began to get more tender and fell from the bones. My friend Beal Carlick stopped by for a visit and joined us for lunch. I gave him a bowl of my porcupine soup which he enjoyed. He asked me what kind of meat it was, and when I said it was porcupine, he was greatly surprised. Said he, "I have never before tasted such good porcupine. I must tell my wife Lizzie how you did it. When I bring her a porcupine she cuts it up then puts it in a frying pan for a little while, and serves it to me. I can not chew it as it is so tough."
Beal Carlick was ostensibly an Indian, but I learned that his father had been a Negro gold miner who had married an Indian woman. He was a very interesting character, looking like an Indian but having all the extrovert characteristics of a Negro. He was always cheerful, friendly, talkative and humorous, quite different from the average Indian.
I wondered how he could have inherited those characteristics, since he apparently had little contact with his father and there were no other Negroes in the country.
Bill had to leave for home and school before I did. He made arrangements with a local man who had a gas engine boat to go to Telegraph Creek with him. They started on the long journey. I was very sorry to see Bill go and missed him greatly. When they got up the river to the lake, the gas engine broke down and they had to row the boat for 20 miles.
I made another hiking trip to McDames Hudson Bay Post for mail, etc. On my return I stopped for the night at my friend's mining camp. There I found one of my old dog team Indians whom I had not seen since they left on that snowy morning. He had been hunting and got a wild sheep which he had sold to the boys for meat. I asked him if he could find another for me and I would pay him for it. This was agreeable so we started out early next morning. He had two large pack dogs with his camping gear, and also a small dog as a sort of companion or pet.
We came to a place called Deep Creek where there was a small cabin built for night shelter for travelers. My Indian hunter Jimmy Cigar said this was a good location for moose. He said to tie up the dogs and leave them there while we went into the hills. The two dogs were loaded with heavy packs, and as Jimmy was tying them and about to leave, I saw that he had no intention of taking off their packs. I protested this, so he consented to take off their packs, thinking however that it was quite unnecessary. We tramped over the brushy hills for an hour but could see only old tracks. Jimmy said that there was no game, so we went back, repacked the dogs and continued up the river. To our left was a good size lake. The river flowed in at one end and out the other. Beyond the lake a steep hill rose up having patches of woods and areas of clear grassy or light brush. Over this area were patches of unmelted snow. Soon Jimmy stood staring up the hill. He said "mountain goat". It was a little while before I could see them a they were white like the snow patches. He asked if I wished to go after them. They were a mother and a half grown lamb. I said "how shall we cross the lake?" He suggested making a raft. We had no tools, but gathered some logs together and criss-crossed then. We tied the dogs up, left our extra stuff and got on the raft. It sank down to water level. I had found a long thin pole to push it around. In a very short time my pole would not reach bottom and we had only some sticks to paddle with. Further in the lake there was a breeze blowing and it looked as if our raft would fall apart any minute. We paddled frantically back to the beach and it was a real relief to get there.
We packed up and started up the river once more. After dark we arrived at the cabin at McDames Lake. I asked Jimmy if he thought the wild goats would still be on the mountain. He said they would certainly be there since their food supply was good and they were not in the habit of moving about a great deal. I then asked him why we could not return down the river and reach the lake on the side where the goats were. He agreed that they would be there. We left all the packs of the dogs except the empty pack sacks and started back down the river. We were now on the opposite side of the lake which we had tried to navigate the day before. Jimmy knew about where the goats were. We tied up the dogs and started up the mountain through the wooded area. Jimmy said one must stay in the woods until well above the goats and then come back down on them from above. He seemed to know exactly where he was and where the goats were. We went from the woods to the open hillside, but I saw no goats, then we went slowly down hill. In a little hollow place there were two goats quietly feeding. They had no idea we were there until Jimmy fired his shot. Unfortunately he was a very poor shot and both goats ran off. He kept on firing, however, and finally got them both. We started to drag them down the steep hillside and reached the lake and the dogs. After dressing out the animals we gave the refuse to the dogs who seemed to be starving. Jimmy had not fed them anything since I had been with him, 24 hours before. He then built a small fire, cut a slender willow and suspended it over the fire by anchoring one end into the ground then suspending the branch through a forked stick stuck in the ground. The extension of the slender willow hung over the fire at the correct height and pieces of meat hung from it over the fire where it very nicely roasted. It was easy to adjust the position of the meat over the fire. Jimmy said that I could now be classified as a "stick man".
When we had eaten all we could, we packed the dogs with the goat meat and started back up the river. The little dog now became a great nuisance. He was a very ugly little dog. His hind quarters were higher than his front quarters so that he appeared to be going down hill. He began to bite and snap at the big pack dogs, who were afraid of him and tried to escape. Jimmy kicked him and hit him with a heavy club, but to no avail. He then tied him to one of the big dogs. This stopped the annoyance somewhat, but there were a lot of little trees and the dogs would straddle a small tree and become fouled up. The next experiment was to tie one front leg up securely, so that the little dog had only three legs to run on. This worked much better. He was now unable to annoy the big dogs, being busy keeping his balance on three legs. I asked Jimmy why he kept such an ugly, mean tempered little dog. He said it was his grandma's dog and she thought a lot of it, otherwise he would not keep it.
We finally reached the cabin late in the day, where we unloaded the goat meat and reloaded the dogs. I paid Jimmy the money agreed upon and also gave him a jacket or sweater which I did not need. He left very happy and I heard of him no more. I admired those primitive Indians, who were very friendly, intelligent and had a great deal of understanding, even though completely uneducated. I remember that Charlie Chief was able to work out the answers to simple mathematical problems, but was unable to explain how he did it. What great talent has been wasted and lost in this world through lack of opportunity and what a great deal of effort and expense in schools have been wasted through lack of intelligence and ambition.
After Jimmy had left with his dogs, I shouldered my pack containing the small goat and started up my mountain to the mine. In many places on the northern slopes there was still a good deal of snow. In the cabin was an old pair of homemade snowshoes which I tried to wear. They were hard to keep on. The brush was thick and the snow soft. I would suddenly sink down through a mass of brush and snow. The heavy pack made it easy to go down but hard to crawl out. It became so exasperating that I tried holding the snow shoes in my hands and more or less crawling. This was no improvement. After a time like this I got above the brush and on a more southerly side of the mountain. From there on it was not so hard and by evening I reached camp. My two companions had been very concerned because I was several days behind schedule. The day before Crawford had gone all the way down to the cabin and finding nothing had returned. We had arrived there a few hours after he had returned up the hill. They say that all is well that ends well, and we proceeded with our work as usual, but with diminishing returns in gold.
I had ordered more steel balls and races from Seattle to be shipped in via Telegraph Creek and down the Dease River to McDames. When they arrived I engaged a prospector who had a couple of horses to pack the stuff in to me. He managed to get one load in but refused to carry any more. It was most difficult and exasperating to pack and carry the heavy steel balls and races on a packsaddle. The remainder of the stuff is still there at the Post after 35 years.
It was October and the weather was getting bad. We contacted our neighbors, the Wings, and all decided to go out together. No one who could get away could willingly spend the winter in that freezing country.
The day before our departure from the mountain mine the weather got bad and snow fell. We had stored everything as well as possible against the possibility of our return the following year. A shout was heard and looking up the mountainside above us we saw a man coming down to our cabin. He proved to be Charlie Chief coming to return the packsack he had borrowed. He had left his wife and little sick baby far up on the hill. I asked him why he did not bring them down where they could get warm and have something to eat. He said that they were all right and would not go for them. Presently I saw a little smoke from a small fire she had built. I don't know how she could have built it in that snow with everything soaking wet. Charlie stayed for an hour getting warm and eating some lunch. I gave him some various drug and food items which were left over and several other things he needed. He said that he and wife and baby were going far away in the mountains where he had some official trapping territory. He had a tiny cabin there and would remain until spring. He went back up the hill to his wife and baby and the last I saw of them they were trudging through the snow, each with a big pack, with the baby on top of Charlie's pack. It made me sad to see what hardships and suffering they had ahead. I wonder if the little baby survived.
I had been raising a beard all summer and by now had one of considerable size. The night before leaving I shaved it off, though I am sorry I did not keep it until I returned home. In the morning McPherson and I started down the mountain. Crawford had left a few weeks earlier saying that he had assessment work to do on some other claims. I had told him in the beginning that if our mining was not successful I would pay him nothing, not even a ticket home. This he had agreed to. When we met the Wings as agreed upon, they appeared very reserved and not friendly which surprised me until in a little while, after I had been talking to Mac, they burst into laughter. They had not recognized me without the beard. We had a most enjoyable trip down to McDames, visiting friends on the way. I had saved a bottle of whiskey which came in very nicely at the farewells. We saw nothing more of Crawford until on the steamer to Seattle.
Toward the end of the summer we were visited by a provincial police officer. He inquired for Crawford. With him was Mr. Wing's son. The policeman asked Crawford for his fur sleeping robe. When he brought it out, young Wing said, very nervously, "that is my rabbit skin robe which I left in the cabin at Centerville. The weather had gotten warm and I decided to leave it there until my return from the Hudson Bay Post. When I returned it had disappeared. I can positively identify it as it was made by an Indian woman in Minton east of White Horse."
Crawford denied that he had stolen it but had bought it from a certain man whom he named. The police officer then said that the man mentioned had drowned a year or so before. Crawford admitted it was true. The police officer said he would take the rabbit skin blanket with him and have it shipped to Minton via Whitehorse for identification, and until he had the report of identification, he would do nothing more. The robe was really filthy dirty and getting badly worn, since it was all Crawford wore for bedding for a very long time. Wing no longer placed value on the robe but he resented having had it stolen from him by Crawford, whose reputation was very bad throughout the country. He very soon disappeared and made his way back to Seattle. I do not think he ever returned to the Cassiar country. About 20 years later Crawford and a pompous young man called at my home and inquired for me. I admitted who I was and recognized Crawford who apparently failed to recognize me. The other man said he was an attorney and was representing Mr. Crawford in a case in which Boulton had apparently swindled Crawford out of a lot of gold in the Cassiar country twenty years before. As soon as I saw that Crawford did not recognize me I said that I had been in the country in 1940 when the asbestos mine was discovered. This threw them off and they both acted vary sheepishly and soon left completely uncertain of themselves. Poor old Crawford looked very old and worn out. I am sure he was down and out. If he had come to visit me to talk over old times I would have been glad to help him out, but he just could not be honest and tried to badger me.
Our trip up the Dease River was very enjoyable. The large deckless boat had a good load of passengers and luggage. In the evening we tied up at a beautiful grassy meadow with many large shade trees. The captain was also a good cook and with a little help from the passengers we had an outdoor bonfire meal fit for a king. From the head of Dease Lake, a truck took us over the continental divide to Telegraph Creek. The trip down the Stikine River was wonderful, and from there we shipped to Seattle.
After selling the gold to the government we received in all a little less than $5,000. The entire cost of the venture was about $20,000. This was really the most interesting and exciting adventure I ever had and I have never regretted the money spent.