ats had been built with narrow walking boards along the sides after the
manner of the celebrated pole boats that plied on the Mississippi and its
tributaries in the upstream journies in Lincoln's time. One of the boys
was told off to work with the three Indians in each boat for short
stretches at a time, thus placing two men on each side with poles about
twelve feet long, while the commander of each boat with a long oar gave an
occasional impulse to the direction in the way of steering, although
little of this was necessary. Two of the pole men would start at the bow
of the boat, placing their poles on the bottom of the creek and walk the
full length of the "running board." As they reached the stern, two others
would start at the bow and walk down the boat while their predecessors
returned to the bow.

The Indians seemed to be able to continue this performance without
intermission, and feel no fatigue from it, but the Scout who was detailed
to aid the Indians soon found himself suffering from a peculiar aching in
the side and back, that Swiftwater described as the "Siwash Curve," due
entirely to the fact that the white man in poling up a river would exert
himself in a way that the average Indian considered unprofessional, and
would try to hold back, thus adding to the "white man's burden." He
insisted that the white man usually got over this after the first day's
work, and tried to make it pleasant for the Siwash ever after. He limited
the trick of each boy at the pole for the first day to one hour, and he
himself and Rand took their own turns at the poles to relieve the aching
and untried muscles of the younger Scouts. Soon after leaving the sandy
banks and tundra of the lower stream, the creek began to wind its way
through dense forests of spruce, poplar and oak with the ghostly bark of
the birch lighting up the dim that marks the tangled wildwood of more
southern climates, showing how little the sunlight of these northern
climes penetrated the overshadowing canopy.

"Fine woods for huntin'," remarked Swiftwater to Jack, as they poled
slowly up stream, "also for travelin' in winter. Bresh won't grow very far
in from the streams this far north. Great country for garden stuff
howsomever."

"Do you mean to say that vegetables will grow this far north?" inquired
the interested reporter.

"Finest garden sass in the world in some sections. Why, there's a valley
between the Yukon and the Tanana, three hundred miles north