new strike rivaled that of the Klondyke.

The little party of four decided to go to Nome. In a short time their
business was arranged, sales made, gold claims placed in charge of
agents, and everything made in readiness for their journey to Nome.

It was the middle of September. The last boats were leaving Dawson, both
for points on the Upper Yukon and for St. Michael. People leaving Dawson
by boat in the fall seldom linger beyond the third or fourth week in
September, for then the river may freeze at any time and they be
prisoners in the camp indefinitely.

The lower river steamer "Hannah" was about to push from the dock at
Dawson when a friend introduced me to the three sisters, and during the
following days on board an acquaintance sprung up which I much enjoyed.
Little did we know that this friendship would afterwards be renewed
nearly two thousand miles away, and under circumstances vastly different
from any with which we had before become familiar.

Landing safely from the "Hannah" at St. Michael, a few days were spent
by the sisters waiting for stormy weather to subside, and they then
sailed for Nome. Here they landed during the last days of September,
amid falling snow, bleak winds and boiling surf, upon the sands of the
most inhospitable beach in all that dreary Northland. No tree was to be
seen. Not a rock under whose friendly shelter one might hide from the
storms. There was almost no lumber in the camp with which to build
houses, and no incoming steamers expected. A few rude shacks, tents and
saloons, with two or three companies' buildings--of these was the town
composed. Many were rushing for the steamers in waiting, determined only
upon one thing--to get home to the States. Some carried heavy sacks of
gold, others went empty-handed. There was the summer's accumulation of
filth in the camp, too young as yet for cleanly conditions, and these
brought their sure accompaniment--the fever. Many suffered for weeks
with it, and then died.

Again came the dread plague to the sisters. Scarcely had they unpacked
their trunks or found shelter for the winter when the younger of the
sisters was stricken down. For days she raved in delirium, and all
feared she would die. Night and day they watched anxiously by her
bedside. Everything was done for her recovery and comfort that could be
done in a new and rough camp like the one at Nome; for all who knew the
beautiful little sister loved her well.

Then came the time