Rensselaer Journal, Volume 12, Number 19, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 October 1902 — ALONG THE YUKON. [ARTICLE]

ALONG THE YUKON.

A Rose Lawn Boy Describes His Experience In the Klondyke. HOW THE RIVER BROKE UP. By the middle of April the small creeks began pouring water into the Yukon, under the ice. By the end of the first week in May a row boat could be run for miles along the edge of the river, between the thick ice and the bank. Every one was speculating on and watching for the break up of the ice. Ou May 22nd about sp. m. there came a sound as of an approaching rain storm. I hurried to the cabin door, which overlooked the river and saw a huge cake of ice a quarter of a mile long and half as broad loosen from the lower end of the island, above town, and slowly swing down stream across a stretch of open water, crash into the ice river, and then slowly, easily, gently, the whole body of ice moved downward. It went smoothly for a half mile then caught on a sand bar below town and jammed, stopping except on the opposite side, where a stream a hundred yards or more wide continued on its way for an hour when it jammed again and stopped entirely. The water raised till about eight when the ice gave way again, and slowly, irresistably moved onward.

It pushed and piled up trn the banks in great cakes of ice from three to five feet thick, while in between flowed a river of broken ice with a steady grinding roar. Great patches of ice turned in graceful, stately curves as some point met resistance and slowly turning to the center joined the main current again. Now the river clears of ice; the water becomes more open. There must-be an ice jam above. The four steamers across the river are trying to work their way into Squaw creek. The smallest one succeeds and disappears around a bend. The “Oity of Chicago” gains ground. Hark I There is a deeper roar as the ice above frees Itself and.rushes down faster than before, grinding, twisting, turning, plunging, working, groaning. A dnll thud floats to our ears as a large cake strikes the steamer’s hull. But the water still raises. It creeps up the bank inch by inch. Now the Chicago pushes ahead. Just as she gains the shelter of the creek bank a whole field of ice bumps into the “Muokluck” forcing her up on the bank. In a minute it is gone and the steamer swings out into the water again. She swings round with her nose up stream. The men push and heave at the windlass and she gains foot by foot, /or they have a line fast to a tree up the creek. Now her stem is in the creek, her bow gets into clear water. The ioe thickens in the river. It crowds and grinds cake on cake. The current is double what it was two hours ago. Here oomes another ioe field. It hits the stern of the Muckluck and swings her across the creek, but now she is safe. And none too soon for the ioe piles up in a chaotic heap just where the steamer was a short time ago. So it rushes on for a time, when the speed of the ice decreases and it piles up on the shallower side. The roar is not so loud now. It hs« become the sound of heavy falling rain or a lively breeze in the forest. Drift wood dots the surface here and there. A minature ice burg is forced up, up, up. It hesitates for a moment then drops easily, quietly down, down from sight, leaving a big bubble on the water. A little boat floats by. It will carry no more argonauts in search for an El Dorado.

What a terrific power that river and ice represents as it steadily moves onward, downward. It makes me think of the stream of years that rolls thro’ eternity. All thought of time has been absent from my mind. It is midnight. The light of a new day reddens the sky. The fading red of sunset lingers near by. Only a few mountain peaks separate them. Near me .a circular cake of ice forty feet in diameter turns on edge and rolling over like a wheel sinks into the icy, waters. I turn from the door aud spreading my blankets on the floor am soon asleep. A Prospector.