CHAPTER IV
THE FIRST CAMP
The "Farallon" was slowly and carefully brought to the end of the lower wharf, though the water was so shallow that her screw stirred up the mud.
Roly and David signalled with their caps and soon attracted Uncle Will's attention, and that gentleman waved his arms delightedly the moment he saw them. Meanwhile the cannery watchman had made fast the steamer's bow and stern lines, the latter to the piling of the higher wharf, and the other to a large rock on the beach. A few minutes later the Bradfords had jumped ashore, and the crew had piled their sleds, provisions, and belongings of all kinds in a promiscuous heap on the wharf. They were the only passengers to disembark there, for the Dalton trail was little used. The "Farallon" presently drew in her lines and backed away with a parting blast of her whistle, to continue her voyage a few miles farther up Lynn Canal to the head of navigation, whither the rest of her passengers were bound, some intending to go to the Klondike by the White Pass trail from Skagway, and others preferring the Chilkoot trail from Dyea.
"I didn't expect to find you here, Will," said Mr. Bradford, as he warmly grasped his brother's hand, "but I'm all the more glad to see you."
"And I'm delighted to be here to welcome you, Charles. I'll tell you how it happened when we have a moment to spare. You've brought the boys, I see. That's right. They'll enjoy the life, and it'll do them good. Why, I hardly knew David here, he's grown so tall! We'll soon have some tan on that pale face of his. As for Roly," and he eyed that healthy specimen of a boy, "about all he seems to need is hard labor and a bread-and-water diet."
Roly laughed, for he saw the twinkle in his uncle's eye, and had no fears that such a course of training would be inflicted,—or at least the bread-and-water part of it.