ywhere there were evidences of the industry of the miners, but the
claims and cabins looked deserted. Only in a few instances were men at
work near the mouth of the creek. Many people were going to and from
Dawson, and bicycles and wagons were numerous.

When we reached our destination we had walked five miles in the hot
sunshine, and were hungry and warm, but a warm welcome from Mr. and Mrs.
M., as well as a good dinner, awaited us.

After resting a while we were shown around the premises. Three log
cabins were being built in a row upon the hillside, the one finished
being already occupied by the M. family. Tunnels were being made in the
mountain by Mr. M., as well as other claim owners near by, and across
the gulch mining operations were in full blast. On the M. claim
preparations were being made for winter work, and it was expected that a
valuable dump would be taken out before spring. For three hundred feet
one tunnel entered the mountain back of the cabins, and we were invited
to go into it.

Putting on our warmest wraps, with candles in hand, we followed our
guide, the proprietor, for some distance. It was like walking in a
refrigerator, for the walls and floor of the tunnel were solidly frozen
and sparkled with ice. Whether the bright specks we saw were always
frost, we did not enquire, etiquette forbidding too much curiosity, but
from the satisfied nods and smiles we understood that it was a good
claim, though only recently purchased by Mr. M., a handful of pudgy gold
nuggets being shown us which fairly made our eyes water (because they
did not belong to us).

Here we lodged all night, enjoying a graphophone entertainment in the
evening. The next morning my kodak was brought out, and before leaving
for home I had several views to carry with me.

Our walk back to Dawson was much easier than the one out to the claim.

From this on, we made ready to leave Dawson for Seattle, and were soon
upon our way. Again I was forced to say good-bye to my father and
brother, though they would follow us a month later, and together, my
sister and I, stood with the little boy on the deck of the steamer,
waving our good-byes.

We now traveled in luxury. We occupied a large and elegant stateroom,
ate first-class meals, and had nothing to do but enjoy ourselves. To
change from steamer to steam cars at White Horse, which was now a good
mining town, was the work of an hour's time, while a day's ride to
Bennett and over the Whit