rs and the crew were all saved, as they needed
only to step off upon the shore.

The _St. Paul_ anchored that night in deeper water and a dense fog.
During the night fog-horns were heard in the distance, and a series of
exchanges followed in order that the approaching vessel might locate us.
In the morning the _Senator_, a sister ship, loomed up out of the fog,
not a hundred yards distant. The captains held a shouting conversation,
and, instead of being a companion in misery, we learned that the
_Senator_ had already discharged passengers and freight at Nome, and was
now on her way _back_ for another load! So, indeed, had the entire
fleet, with a few exceptions.

Now knowing the course, and the wind having shifted the ice, we pushed
ahead through the fog; and in the clear light of the afternoon of June
24 the unforgettable scenery of Nome presented itself, whiter on the
back-lying hills and less inviting than a year ago. Mining men eyed it
seriously; for it looked as if the terrible winter were lingering in the
lap of spring, which meant that the (at best) scant four months' working
season might be materially curtailed. And this seemed the more probable
when scores of dories came out and clustered about the ship, their idle
owners offering for a consideration to carry passengers ashore. It was
hard to realize that one was back again at this jumping-off place of the
world, having meantime covered so great a distance and lived in scenes
so totally dissimilar. But it was not the same proposition to tackle as
the preceding year--there never before was, and probably never will be
again, a thing like that; I had now only to follow a fixed program until
some happening or condition should modify or wholly alter it.

Orders were given for every one to get ashore right away that evening;
and the lighters, towed by a small tug, were soon carrying the
passengers thither, bag and baggage, and somewhat disgruntled. A few of
us, who believed that, in the last analysis, those orders were a bluff
to get rid of people, remained that night unmolested in our bunks, to
visit the "golden sands" in ample time of morning. The waiters and
stewards, too, were quitting the ship for good or evil; for these shifty
boys--many of them pleasant harum-scarum Englishmen, younger sons of
good families--had no idea of being satisfied with thirty dollars a
month the remainder of their days. I wish I could have taken down in
shorthand the experiences of "