Rensselaer Journal, Volume 12, Number 14, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 September 1902 — ON THE YUKON. [ARTICLE]

ON THE YUKON.

A Rose Lawn Boy Describes His Ex* perience In the Klondyke. WOODING UP. “Ten feet—and a half nine—no botmonotonously called the man at the sounding pole. The quartermaster struck “eight bells.’’ The m* watch came on deck. The mate announced that we would wood up at the next wood pile, andt looking away toport, just below the island ahead be saw a wood pile and called out, ••Watchman, call all hands —woodpile.” Who is there who has worked on the deck of a Yukon steamer who can forget that familiar, often unwel come cry, “wood pile, wood p-i 1-e,” which so often caught him in the midst of a deep sleep when on his watch below? All hands turned out and soon we were made fast to the bank. The midnight sun rested in the tree tops, the mosquito hummed a welcoming tune as we tumbled up the bank from the end of the gang plank. There were six or eight cords of wood on the bank, evidently cut by natives. The whistle sounded three long shrill blasts and several birch bark canoes put off from the island, each vigorously paddled by a native —commonly termed Indian. “How much,” queried the captain, pointing to the wood. “Ten dollar” came the response. “Too much.” “Him good wood.” “Give you five.” “No ten dollar.” “You take flour, tea, sugar, blanket?” “No, no want mn.” The captain disappeared but soon returned bringing a comforter covered with bright calico on whcih some wonderful roses were printed, and in five minutes had traded it for a cord of wood. “You got whiskey?” queried the native. “No whiskey.” And so the trade progressed till all the wood was bargained for. It was cut in four foot lengths and piled in two cord piles. To get it aboard a man reached around what he could comfortably carry and getting it on his shoulder carried it aboard, depositing it near the boiler in tiers. When all was on board the lines were cast off, the gang plank pulled in and the engineer signaled for steam, but the boat didn’t budge. Tne weight of the wood had settled her in the mud until she stuck fast.

“Get down the spud,” called the mate. A “spud” is a long spar. One end of this is put overboard“c)ose to the boat, on the inshore side, and two blocks and tackle fastened to it, one near the center and one at the upper end. The line is passed around the “nigger,” or windlass, and steam applied. This is usually effective and the boat slides out into deep water. Again we are off and as we “go below” the “8 feet, 10 feet, no bottom” of the man at the sounding pole follows us to dreamland. Again the cry of wood p-i-l-e,” rouses us from our bunks. We make fast to a bank near a wood yard above Hoochiku. The “heaving line” is thrown ashore from the upper deck to the wood cutter on shore, who takes a round turn and two half hitches about a tree and we are made fast. The gang plank is stood on on end, one end on the the other on the bank at the foot of the wood pile. The purser passes out and measures the wood, then it is slid down the gang plank by part of the crew while the remainder stow it away on deck in tiers. On the lower river the crew often has to carry the wood from one to three hundred yards which often invokes cussin’ of the blue streak variety—for the mosquito is always numerous and vigorous in such places. Even under such conditions twenty men will take ten cords of wood aboard in less time than would be supposed. Wood! is the chief fuel for steamers, though in 1900 there were 6 coal mines along the length of the river, where the larger boats usually took on from ten or fifteen to. forty or fifty tons at each mine. The ruling price for wood was from 16 to $lO per cord, for coal sls per ton. A Prospector.