.
Seagulls and goonies had followed in the wake of our ship, and rested
themselves each day aloft in the rigging. Sails were now and then seen
in the distance, like the spreading white wings of enormous swans
gliding quietly over the bosom of the deep, and we realized that we were
nearing land. In the darkness one night there came to us a little white
boat containing three men,--one was a pilot to guide us safely through
the beautiful Golden Gate; the light on Point Bonita was sighted--we
were almost home.

We were now six weeks out from Dawson and twenty-one days from Nome; we
had no storms, accidents or deaths on board, and carried five hundred
passengers, as well as three million dollars in gold. I had been away
from home four months without a day's illness, and during my trip
through Alaska had traveled seventy-five hundred miles, nearly one-half
of this distance alone.

[Illustration: UNALASKA.]

CHAPTER VII.

GOING TO NOME.

One beautiful day in the spring of 1900 I sailed again for Alaska--this
time for Nome from San Francisco. An English family consisting of the
mother, one son and a daughter were to accompany me, and we had spent
weeks in making our preparations. We were taking supplies of clothing,
food, tents and bedding sufficient to last until some of our numerous
plans of work after our arrival brought in returns. My hope was to meet
my father there, for he had written that he thought he should go to the
new gold fields, where he could do beach mining.

I was not above doing any honest work, and felt confident that I could
make my way if I could gain an entrance into that country. The English
people were all workers, and I had known them for ten years or more.

Our steamer was the good ship "St. Paul," belonging to the Alaska
Commercial Company, and was advertised to sail on May twenty-fifth. When
I laughingly called the attention of one of the owners of the ship to
the fact that that date fell upon Friday, and many persons objected to
sailing upon that day, he postponed the starting of the "St. Paul" to
May twenty-sixth, and we left the dock on Saturday afternoon amid the
cheers and hand-waving of thousands of people who had come to see the
big boat off for Nome.

The steamer was well fitted out, spick and span in fresh carpets and
paint, and crowded to the utmost capacity for comfort. Every stateroom
was full; each seat at the tables occupied. Not a foot of space above or
below decks w