Stratemeyer Edward
The Rover Boys in Alaska: or, Lost in the Fields of Ice

CHAPTER XVIII
AT JUNEAU AND SKAGWAY

Jack Wumble was an old miner and prospector, a man the boys had met years before in Colorado, when they went to that section of our country to locate a mine belonging to their father. As related in detail in "The Rover Boys Out West," Wumble had been of great assistance to them and he knew them all well. He had, after numerous stirring adventures, located a claim for himself, which, at the time, paid very well. Lately, however, the Rovers had not heard from him, and they had often wondered what had become of the man.

"You're a sight fer sore eyes, so ye are!" cried Jack Wumble, slapping each on the shoulder. "I never dreamed o' seein' ye in this out o' the way corner o' the country."

"We didn't expect to come here either, up to a few days ago," answered Sam.

"Maybe ye better tell me the story," suggested the old miner. "If I kin help ye I will."

"Come on to the cabin," suggested Dick, and led the way. They sat down on a corner seat, and there the Rovers told their story, withholding nothing, for they knew they could trust Jack Wumble in every particular.

"Gosh all hemlock! Sounds like one of them theatre plays I see in 'Frisco," was the old miner's comment. "To think Tom would wander away in thet fashion! 'Tain't no wonder ye are scart to deth! I'd be scart myself, thinkin' he might jump overboard, or sumthin' like thet. He ought to be put in an asylum."

After that Jack Wumble told his own story. He said his claim in Colorado had gradually petered out, and then he had tried his fortunes in various other places, gradually winding up in the Klondyke. There he had struck what he hoped would prove a bonanza.

"I've been down to the States buying some machinery an' some supplies," he added. "They are coming up on a freight boat next week. I find I can do better to go to the States fer things than to buy in Alaska."

"Have you taken any gold out of your claim yet?" questioned Sam, with interest.

Jack Wumble looked around, to make certain that nobody was listening but the Rovers.

"Don't ye tell nobody," he whispered. "I took out about two thousand dollars, in nuggets an' dust, in less'n ten days!"

"Fine!" returned Dick, and Sam nodded. "I hope you keep it up."

"It's the machinery is goin' to tell the tale," returned Jack Wumble. "I can't do much more by hand."

"Are you working the mine alone?" asked Sam.

"Fer the present. When I came away I left the claim in charge o' a miner named Allison – Tim Allison. But I told him not to do any diggin' – just keep his eyes on things. When there is any diggin' to be done I want to be on hand."

Wumble was bound for Skagway, where he said his machinery and supplies would be sent. He knew that section of Alaska thoroughly, and said he would show the lads where to go and what to do.

"Things is changin' mightily up there every day," he remarked. "They are dredgin' channels an' buildin' railroads, and making all kinds o' roads. Go there one year an' the next ye won't 'most know the place, it will look so different."

"Well, they are developing all parts of the country," answered Dick.

"Maybe; but nuthin' to wot they're doin' in Alaska," answered the old miner.

The three sat up for half an hour longer, talking matters over. Of course Jack Wumble wanted to know about Mr. Rover, and was sorry to learn that the boys' father was not well. He could hardly believe that Dick was married.

"Why, it don't seem like no time since you an' your brothers came out to Colorady to locate thet mine," he remarked.

There was a little wind, but otherwise the night was calm. Now that they could do no more for the present, the Rovers realized how tired they were, and once in their berths both went sound asleep. Nor did they rouse up until well into the morning. The sleep did them a world of good, and when they dressed and went to breakfast they felt quite like themselves once more.

"If we didn't have to worry about Tom, I could enjoy this trip immensely," remarked Sam.

Jack Wumble had already satisfied his hunger, for he was an early riser. After breakfast all sat on the deck, and the old miner related some of his experiences while prospecting in various localities, and the boys told how they had finished up at Putnam Hall and gone to Brill.

"I can't hardly believe thet Dan Baxter has reformed," said Wumble, shaking his head slowly. "I allers put him an' his father down fer bad eggs."

"Well, they were pretty bad at one time," answered Dick. "But Dan found out that it didn't pay to be bad. And his father is old and, I guess, well satisfied to behave himself and take it easy."

"Mr. Baxter might have been a wealthy man if he had done things on the level," returned the old miner.

The journey up the coast of Canada to the lower point of Alaska was full of interest to the boys. In due course of time, the bow of the steamer was turned into Chatham Strait, and soon they were running past Admiralty Island.

Both Sam and Dick had expected to see quite a city at Juneau, and they were disappointed when they beheld only a scattered town, lying on a strip of land, bound on one side by what is called the Lynn Canal and on the other by the mouth of the Taku River. In the distance were some high mountains, which the boys looked at with interest.

Fortunately the steamer was to remain at Juneau for two hours, and in that time the Rovers hoped to make certain whether or not Tom had landed there. They lost no time in getting ashore, and Jack Wumble went with them.

At first there was so much confusion at the dock that the youths could learn little or nothing. But as the crowd cleared away they were enabled to make some inquiries of officials and others. But nobody had seen Tom, or knew anything about him.

"I think he must have remained on the steamer," said Sam. "If he was after those nuggets he'd want to get right up into the land of gold."

"Thet's the way I reason it out," put in Jack Wumble. "Better stick to the trip, lads. I think ye'll be able to learn somethin' in Skagway."

So when the steamer left the dock they were on board.

The trip to Skagway was a decidedly interesting one, and the youths listened closely to all the old miner had to tell them about the country and its inhabitants.

"It's changin' amazingly fast," said Jack Wumble. "They are clearin' out ship channels an' buildin' railroads, and towns spring up like magic. Now whar I'm located – a place called Black Run – thar wasn't a house thar three years ago. Now we got a store an' a dozen shacks, an' more buildin' every day! I tell you, I think Alaska is one o' the greatest countries in the world!"

There was a greater bustle and confusion than ever when the steamer tied up at Skagway. Here a connection can be made with the White Pass and Yukon route, and other routes. About ten miles away, up the Lynn Canal, was Dyea, also a town of importance.

The boys followed Jack Wumble ashore and waited until some of the bustle and confusion was over, and then commenced a systematic hunt for Tom.

The hunt lasted until nearly midnight, and then, utterly worn out, the Rovers and the old miner had to give it up. They had met just one man who remembered having seen a person who looked like Tom on the steamer, and who said the fellow had landed at Skagway. But where the unknown had gone the man could not say.

"Yes, that's the fellow," said the man, when shown Tom's photograph. "But he didn't look quite as nice as that. He looked – well, wild like."

"He is wild," answered Dick. "That is why we want to find him."

Jack Wumble knew of a fairly good hotel, and the three put up there for the night. The boys were so tired they slept "like logs," as Dick said afterwards. But they were up bright and early, along with the old miner, and directly after breakfast set out on another search for Tom.

"I hate to waste your time, Jack," said Dick to Wumble. "So if you want to go ahead – "

"Stop right thar, Dick!" cried the old miner. "I ain't in sech an all-fired hurry I can't try to do ye a good turn. I like Tom, an' I'm going to stay with ye fer a few days an' see if we can't locate him." And thus the matter was settled.

Two days were spent in Skagway and Dyea hunting for the missing one. Late in the afternoon of the second day the boys and the old miner separated, to make inquiries in different places.

Sam and Dick came back to the hotel at supper time much discouraged, having heard nothing to their advantage. Half an hour later Jack Wumble came in, his face showing his excitement.

"I've got on the trail!" he cried. "Come on, we're goin' to git after Tom right away!"

CHAPTER XIX
FROM ONE CLUE TO ANOTHER

"What have you learned, Jack?"

"When did he leave here?"

"Is he all right?"

"I'm ready to go after him right now."

Such were the words that came from the Rover boys after Jack Wumble had announced that he had located their missing brother.

"We ain't got no time to spare," cried the old miner. "Let us pay our bill here an' git out, an' I'll tell ye all I know while we are on the way."

The lads lost no time in packing up as directed, and Dick settled at the hotel desk. Jack Wumble led the way down to the docks and ordered them into a small river boat.

"This here ain't no regular boat," he explained. "But I've hired passage on her, so it's all right. We'll save fourteen hours by not waitin' fer the regular boat."

"But where are we going, Jack?" questioned Dick.

"To a jumpin'-off place called Lindy Falls. That is whar the party Tom was with was goin' to start from."

Soon the boat, a large craft of its kind, was on the way up the river. As they sped along, the boys and the old miner drew into a corner of the cabin and Jack Wumble told his story.

"By the merest accident I fell in with a man named Rabig I used to know in 'Frisco," said the old miner. "He's interested in the Golden Sunset mine an' the Beggar's Chance. Well, I told Rabig about you an' Tom an' he got interested an' asked me how Tom looked an' I told him. Then he told about how he fell in with Tom on board thet steamer an' how Tom had told him he was bound fer the Lion Head gold fields. He had it in his head, so Rabig said, that he could pick up nuggets at the Lion Head."

"The Lion Head?" repeated Dick. "Where is that?"

"It's a good distance from here, Dick, I can tell ye that. It's to the northwest o' the Klondyke. A wild place. It's called the Lion Head acause thar's a mountain thar thet looks like a lion's head. I was thar onct, prospectin' around. But I didn't find any gold thar. But some have found gold," added the old miner.

"How will Tom get there?" questioned Sam.

"Thet's the strangest part o' it," resumed Jack Wumble. "It appears as how he fell in with a miner named Furner – Ike Furner. Rabig says Furner is a bit touched here." Wumble tapped his forehead. "Well, the two made up their minds to go to Lion Head. Furner told Tom he was sure they could pick up nuggets, if only they could hit the right spot. Furner had some kind o' an outfit an' he got Tom to buy some more things, and away they started. Rabig thought they was both crazy."

"And so they must be!" murmured Dick. "Poor Tom! I hope we catch him before he gets too far into the mountains."

"Did this man Rabig say what name Tom was traveling under?" asked Sam.

"Yes. A mighty queer name, too. Brill Thomas. How do ye account fer that?"

"Brill Thomas!" repeated Dick. "Oh, that's easy. Brill is the name of the college he attends and Thomas is his first name in full. He is out of his mind, but he still retains snatches of names and things, I suppose, and that's how he hit on Brill Thomas for a name."

"He told Rabig he was from the land of Hope – the Valley Brook of Hope," went on Jack Wumble. "Rabig never heard tell o' the location."

"Valley Brook is the farm we live on, and Hope is a school near Brill," said Sam. "Poor, poor Tom! Who would have imagined such a thing as this could happen to him!"

"How far is Lion Head from here?" asked Dick.

"As the crow flies, about five hundred miles."

"Five hundred miles!" exclaimed Sam.

"Yes, an' it's nearly six hundred by the way they'll have to travel," went on Jack Wumble.

This news almost stunned the Rover boys. Was it possible that Tom was undertaking a trip of six hundred miles into the little-known portion of Alaska?

"He'd never do such a thing if he was in his right mind," said Dick. "We must catch him just as soon as we can!"

"That is why I hired passage on this boat," said the old miner. "I'm calkerlatin' we can head him off. Thet is, if the weather stays good."

"It looks like rain and is getting colder."

"Right ye are, Dick. An' when it gits cold up here, it gits cold, I kin tell ye thet. Last winter I 'most froze to death up in my shack," added Jack Wumble.

The trip on the boat to Lindy Falls was without special incident. There were about a dozen passengers, all miners and prospectors, who did not care to wait for any of the regular boats. They were a rather good-natured set, and whiled away the time by swapping stories and arguing about the best way to locate paying claims and getting out the gold.

Lindy Falls was reached one afternoon about two o'clock. It was little more than a boat and trading station and here the Rover boys got their first sight of Alaskan Indians, members of the Chilkoot tribe.

Immediately on landing they made inquiries concerning Tom and the miner named Ike Furner. They soon learned that Furner was a well-known character, and from a trader heard that this man and his young companion had set off but a few hours before.

"I think they went to Dawson City," said a man standing nearby. "Anyway, Furner told me he was goin' there first, an' then up to Lion Head."

This put a new view on the matter, and the boys and Jack Wumble questioned the stranger. The upshot was that they decided to go directly to Dawson, that mecca of all gold hunters in Alaska.

"Now, the thing of it is, How can we get to Dawson from here?" said Sam.

"That's easy," replied Jack Wumble. "Just leave it to me."

Inside of an hour their arrangements were made and they were off. Previous to going they made more inquiries concerning Tom and his strange companion, and reached the conclusion that the pair had really headed for Dawson.

"But there is no telling how soon they will change their minds and go somewhere else," said Dick, with a sigh.

It is not my purpose to tell the particulars of the tedious journey to Dawson City, about three hundred and fifty miles north of Skagway. At that time all of the improvements that now exist had not been made and the crowd suffered from many inconveniences.

But the boys were surprised when they reached Dawson to find it so "up to date," as Sam expressed it. They had expected to see a rough mining town – and that is what Dawson was but a handful of years ago. Instead, they saw a built-up city, with many stores and not a few hotels.

"Goin' to be a reg'lar 'Frisco some day," said Jack Wumble. "Beats all how the towns grow up here!"

The party had arrived in Dawson late at night and put up at the best hotel to be found. Immediately after breakfast the search for Tom was renewed.

It had rained the day before and now it was blustery and cold, with a suggestion of snow in the air. The boys were glad enough to don their sweaters under their coats.

"Ye'll have to git some heavy clothin' if ye go North," said the old miner.

"I hope Tom is dressed warm enough," said Sam. "It would be too bad if he took sick, along with his other troubles."

For two days the boys and the old miner hunted around Dawson for some trace of the missing one. They visited all sorts of places, but all to no purpose. During that time the weather grew suddenly colder and on the second night came a light fall of snow.

"Won't be long now before winter will be on us," announced Jack Wumble. "And winter up here is somethin' wuth rememberin', believe me!"

The next morning found Dick at a large trading store, where many miners and prospectors purchased their supplies. Here he asked all newcomers if they had seen or heard of Tom or Ike Furner.

"Sure, I see Furner!" cried one old prospector. "See him yesterday afternoon."

"Where?" demanded Dick, eagerly.

"Over on the Lion Head trail."

"Alone?"

"No, he had a young feller with him."

CHAPTER XX
IN THE MOUNTAINS OF ALASKA

"Sam, I think we are in for a heavy snow to-day."

"I think so myself, Dick. How much further do we go?"

"About two miles," came from Jack Wumble. "I reckon I got a bit off the trail yesterday, but I know I am right now, boys."

"But where is Tom?" came from Sam.

"He must be right ahead of us – if what we have been told is true," answered his brother.

The conversation recorded above took place just ten days after Dick and Sam arrived in Dawson City. During that time the Rover boys and Jack Wumble had spent two days in buying the necessary outfit, to follow Tom and his strange companion to the wild region in Alaska known as Lion Head. The start had been made, and now the three found themselves on a narrow mountain trail in a country that looked to be utterly uninhabited.

For three days they had been close behind Tom and Ike Furner, this being proven by the remains of campfires and other indications. Once they had met some prospectors returning to the Klondyke and these men had told of passing the pair ahead, and that Furner had said they were bound for a spot not many miles from Lion Head called Twin Rocks.

"I never heard o' Twin Rocks before," said Jack Wumble. "But if it is nigh Lion Head we ought to be able to locate it."

"Provided we don't get snowed in before we reach it," returned Sam.

On and on trudged the three. They had left the last supply depot behind. They had passed only a handful of white folks and a band of five Indians.

"Do you know, I didn't like the looks of those Indians we passed yesterday," remarked Dick, as they went forward over the rough, upward trail.

"They looked pretty sharply at our outfits," said Sam. "I guess they'll like to own them," he added.

"We have got to keep our eyes open," said Jack Wumble. "Them Injuns ain't above stealin' if they git a chanct."

"In such an out-of-the-way place as this, we can't afford to lose our things," asserted Dick.

"Maybe we had better set a guard, at night," suggested his brother.

"Oh, we don't want to lose any sleep, if we don't have to."

It had grown colder and colder, and now the wind swept around them in anything but a pleasant fashion. About noon came a flurry of snow.

"I don't like that," said Dick, shaking his head and looking up at the darkening sky.

"Oh, let's hope it won't amount to much, Dick," replied Sam.

The traveling was steadily upward, for they had to pass over a high hill to get into the valley leading to Lion Head. There was something of a trail, made by wild animals originally and now used by prospectors. This wound in and out among the rock and bushes. The footing was uncertain, and more than once one or another would go down in a hole.

"Talk about walking!" gasped Sam, after pulling himself out of a hole well concealed by bushes. "I'm thankful I didn't break a leg that time."

"An' ye can be thankful ye didn't stir up no snakes," came from Jack Wumble.

"Are there snakes up here, Jack?"

"So they say – although I never see none."

"It's pretty cold for snakes," remarked Dick. "They only come out in the summer time."

"I wish we were on horseback," said Sam, with a sigh.

"Hosses would be fine, if we could feed 'em," answered Jack Wumble. "But ye can't do thet when the ground is covered with snow."

"The outfits are so heavy, Jack."

"True, my boy, but thet can't be helped. We'll be lucky if our grub holds out."

It was after four o'clock when they reached the top of the hill. Had it been clear they might have seen for many miles around them, but now the dullness in the sky hid what was in the distance from view.

"Lion Head is over thar," said Jack Wumble, pointing with his hand. "An' Twin Rocks can't be far off."

"And how far is Lion Head from here?" questioned Sam.

"Betwixt twenty an' thirty miles, Sam."

"Then maybe we'll reach there by to-morrow night."

"Let us hope so, lad. O' course you must remember we've got the wust part o' this journey to go."

"Perhaps we'll catch Tom before we get to Lion Head," suggested Dick.

"Not by the way he has been traveling," answered his brother. "It does beat the nation how he and that Furner have been able to get over the ground."

On the top of the hill the wind was blowing a regular gale and the boys and the old miner were glad enough to go down on the other side, where they would be somewhat sheltered. But even below it was cold, and the air seemed to strike to their very backbones.

"Winter is comin' all right enough," announced Jack Wumble. "We'll be lucky if we git out o' here afore it catches us."

They trudged along until all were too weary to walk another step. They were keeping their eyes open for a spot where they might camp for the night, when Dick uttered a cry.

"Look! They must have remained here last night!"

The others gazed to where he pointed and saw, in a shelter of the rocks, the remains of a campfire. Beside the ashes lay a part of a broken strap and also some fine shavings from a stick.

"Ike Furner's mark," remarked Wumble, pointing to the shavings. They had been told by several men that one of Furner's habits was to whittle a stick. He never rested and talked but what he got out his jackknife and started to cut on a bit of wood. At another campfire, two days back, they had come across a heap of just such whittlings.

"How new is that campfire?" asked Dick, of the old miner.

Jack Wumble examined the heap of dead ashes with care.

"I should say not more'n a day – maybe not thet," he answered. "Boys, I reckon we're close on 'em."

"Oh, if only it wasn't so dark and we weren't so tired!" murmured Sam.

"We can't do much in the darkness, and with a storm coming on," returned Dick. "We'll have to wait until morning. But we had better start out directly it is daylight."

While the others were preparing supper, Dick commenced to arrange the shelter for the night. While he was doing this he noticed something white fluttering on the ground in the wind. He picked it up. It was a sheet of paper, evidently a page torn from a notebook.

"Look what I found," he said, coming close to the light of the campfire. He gazed at the sheet with deep interest. "Well, I never! Sam, look at this!" he cried.

"What is it, Dick?"

"I think Tom wrote this. Poor fellow! Isn't it too bad!"

The sheet of paper had been scribbled on with a lead pencil. The writing was in all sorts of curves, and was largely as follows:

To To To To Ro Ro Ro To

Ro To Bri To Ro Bri

Nel Nel Nel Di S S

To Ro To Ro Tover Tomer

Nel Nel Nel Nel Neltom

"Oh, Dick, what do you make of this?"

"What do I make of it? Can't you see, Sam? Tom was trying to think. He wanted to get something that was hidden away in his memory – his own name, and mine and yours, and Nellie's, and the name of Brill. Maybe a flash of his real self came back to him."

"Oh, if it only would, Dick! Yes, you must be right. First he tried his best to write Tom Rover, but all he got was To Ro, and then he went to Bri for Brill and Nel for Nellie, and Di and S for Dick and Sam. It's as plain as day. It's just like a little child trying to write."

"And it's enough to make a fellow cry," was the sober response.

The two boys studied the paper for a long time and let Jack Wumble look at it. Then, somewhat silently, all sat down to supper. Their hard walk had made them hungry and they ate every scrap of what had been prepared.

By the time they were ready to turn in, it had begun to snow. The had found a shelter under a cliff of rocks, with some brushwood to keep off the most of the wind. They rolled themselves in their blankets and soon all were in the land of dreams.

Dick had slumbered the best part of several hours, when he suddenly awoke with a start. Some furry body had swept across his face. He sat up in bewilderment and looked around the camp, lit up only by the flickering rays of the dying fire. Then he gave a gasp. From beyond the dying fire two savage eyes were gazing at him intently. Without hesitation he reached down under his blanket, brought out the pistol he carried, and fired.