With a sharp jerk the sleigh bounded forward, keeping the shelter of the timber for the first few hundred yards, then sweeping into the open at the entrance to Lake Bennet, we forced a trail towards Lake Linderman at an unusually rapid rate.
[ACROSS THE CHILCOOT PASS]
The snow was falling in thick, blinding sheets when we reached Lake Linderman, and struggled up the first precipitous climb leading to the dreaded Chilcoot.
A death-like stillness lingered in the valley; the towering mountain peaks enclosing the chain of lakes had formed ample protection from the elements; but soon we ascended into a different atmosphere, where the wind burst upon us with dire force, and dashed the snow in clouds against our faces. In vain we laboured on; my comrades sank at times to their necks in the snow, even the sleigh was half buried in the seething masses, and rolled over continuously. I alone had snow-shoes, and for the first time in the seven hundred miles' trail we had traversed I strapped the long Indian "runners" to my moccasins, and endeavoured to pad a track for the following train, but the attempt proved futile. Two hours after leaving the lake we had barely progressed a mile, and the air was becoming dark and heavy with the increasing fury of the gale, which tossed the white clouds aloft, and showered them over our sorely-tried caravan. Never had we dreamed of encountering such weather. We had come from the silent Klondike valley, where the tempests were hushed by the Frost King, who reigned with iron hand.
At two in the afternoon we reached timber limit, and here a few stunted trees showed their tips above the snow, but beyond the bleak surfaces of Deep and Long Lakes appeared bare and forbidding, and the loud shriek of the gathering gale warned us to venture no further that day. We hurriedly scooped a hole in the snow, and lined it with our furs; then the sleigh was mounted as a bulwark against the drifts, and we lay down in our strange excavation, exhausted and utterly disheartened. Mac at length broke the silence. "We might have a fire o' some sort," he said, looking round. Very gingerly he and his companion crawled towards the tree-tops, and broke off the tough green branches. After much coaxing the unwilling wood ignited, and we clustered joyfully round the pungent smoke—for there was little else—and endeavoured to infuse some warmth into our frozen bodies. The thick blackness of night was rapidly closing over, and the storm showed no signs of diminishing; so we obtained what timber we could from the tree-tops, and stored it in our shelter to feed the feeble fire through the long dreary night. Then we thawed some snow, and boiled a "billy" of coffee, and the warm fluid helped to sustain us greatly; but still the wind howled and the snow pattered down on our faces with relentless force, and the drifts from the edge of our pit ever and anon deluged us. How we passed that night is beyond description. We huddled near to each other for warmth, while our dog beside us groaned and shivered violently despite all our efforts to protect him from the icy blasts.
Morning at last arrived, but no welcome light appeared; the air continued murky and dense with flying snow. Ten o'clock, eleven, and twelve passed, and we were beginning to despair of getting a start that day. Then the gloom merged into a dull grey haze, and we could distinguish faintly through the driving mists the glacier peaks flanking Long Lake. We had thawed snow and made coffee for breakfast, but notwithstanding that fortification we felt ill-prepared to renew our battle with the elements.
"We'll make another try, boys," I said, after a brief survey around. "We may reach the summit to-day, but the chances are against it."
Dave was again harnessed to the sleigh, and with three separate ropes attached we straggled forward on different tracks, and pulled as if for dear life. Slowly we forged ahead over Deep Lake, staggering, stumbling, and floundering wildly. Even Dave sank in the yielding track, and his efforts to extricate himself would have been amusing—under different circumstances. As we proceeded the gale increased, and almost hurled us back, and I noted with alarm the heavy gathering clouds that seemed to hang between us and the pass; they spread rapidly, and with them came fresh blasts that whistled across the white lake surface, and tore it into heaving swells even as we looked. I prayed for light, but the gloom deepened and the snow fell thicker and faster. At length we reached the cañon leading to Crater Lake, and with every nerve strained we fought our way forward literally foot by foot. The snow-wreaths here were of extraordinary depths, and several times my companions would disappear altogether, actually swimming again to the surface, for only such a motion would sustain the body on the broken snow.