weating, scared, and
tremulous, swung a clumsy scow upon the sand at our feet. It was no
child's play to cross that stream. Together with one of "The Little
Dutchmen," and a representation from "The Mule Outfit," I stepped
into the boat and it was swung off into the savage swirl of gray
water. We failed of landing the first time. I did not wonder at the
ferryman's nervousness, as I felt the heave and rush of the whirling
savage flood.

At the "ratty" little town of Telegraph Creek we purchased beans at
fifteen cents a pound, bacon at thirty-five cents, and flour at ten
cents, and laden with these necessaries hurried back to the hungry
hordes on the opposite side of the river. That night "The Little
Dutchman" did nothing but cook and eat to make up for lost time.
Every face wore a smile.

The next morning Burton and one or two other men from the outfits
took the horses back up the trail to find feed, while the rest of us
remained in camp to be ready for the boats. Late in the afternoon we
heard far down the river a steamer whistling for Telegraph Creek,
and everybody began packing truck down to the river where the boat
was expected to land. Word was sent back over the trail to the boys
herding the horses, and every man was in a tremor of apprehension
lest the herders should not hear the boat and bring the horses down
in time to get off on it.

It was punishing work packing our stuff down the sloppy path to the
river bank, but we buckled to it hard, and in the course of a couple
of hours had all snug and ready for embarkation.

There was great excitement among the outfits, and every man was
hurrying and worrying to get away. It was known that charges would be
high, and each of us felt in his pocket to see how many dollars he
had left. The steamboat company had us between fire and water and
could charge whatever it pleased. Some of the poor prospectors gave
up their last dollar to cross this river toward which they had
journeyed so long.

The boys came sliding down the trail wildly excited, driving the
horses before them, and by 5.30 we were all packed on the boat, one
hundred and twenty horses and some two dozen men. We were a seedy and
careworn lot, in vivid contrast with the smartly uniformed purser of
the boat. The rates were exorbitant, but there was nothing to do but
to pay them. However, Borland and I, acting as committee, brought
such pressure to bear upon the purser that he "threw in" a dinner,
and there w