LAW AND ORDER ENFORCED
Furthermore, while upon this subject, I wish to add to my own protest against the novelists' wild dreams of outlawry in the Canadian wilderness, a quotation from E. Ward Smith's "Chronicles of the Klondyke." Mr. Smith—as you no doubt remember—was the first city clerk, treasurer, assessor, and tax collector of Dawson City; and this is what he says:
"I want to say at the very outset that the Yukon was, in my opinion at least, one of the most orderly corners of the earth. Even in the early days of the boom, when miners and adventurers of all nationalities poured in, the scales of justice were held firmly and rigidly. The spell of the Mounted Police hung over the snow-bound land and checked the evil-doer. It may sound ridiculous when I assert that the Yukon—that gathering spot of so much of the scum of the earth—was better policed than Winnipeg, or Toronto, or Halifax; but, nevertheless, I believe it to be a fact.
"Of course, crimes were committed, some of which were never solved. Doubtless, also many deeds of violence occurred whose authors never came to light. But, on the whole, life and property were surprisingly secure. One day I visited the cabin of my friend Lippy, who made a million or so upon El Dorado. The door was partly open, so, on receiving no response to my knock, I walked in. The cabin was empty. On the table was a five-gallon pail heaped high with glittering nuggets of gold! I glanced around the place. On the shelves and rafters, on chairs and under bunks, were cans filled with gold. There was a snug fortune in sight. Any one could have slipped in and stolen the lot. I took Lippy to task about it when he came in. He did not seem at all concerned, however.
"Pshaw," he said, "I always have quite a lot of gold about. But no one would steal it. I've never lost anything."
But as the Yukon and New York are a long way from where Oo-koo-hoo was hunting, let us return to his Moose Hills.