CHAPTER XI
The Ramparts of the Porcupine : An Unoccupied House : A Girl’s Unhappiness : Awaiting an Up-going Steamer : From Fort Yukon to Dawson City.
A further reference to the ramparts of the Porcupine may be permissible here. They are very picturesque, often rising to heights varying from fifty to two hundred feet. Frequently the river narrows to from five to eight hundred feet, in some cases much less; and with frequent abrupt changes in the direction of the stream, they often appear when looking ahead, completely to block the river, and with the sunlight glistening on the rocks, and a haze rising from the water they exhibit the peculiar appearances already noticed.
The upper ramparts begin about ten or twelve miles above the Alaska boundary and extend down stream some forty or fifty miles. The rock formation as we descend is for the first twenty-five miles a hard sandstone and quartzite, then changes to basalt for some distance, and below this, limestone and shale penetrate upwards through the basalt.
The lower ramparts begin some twenty or twenty-five miles below the end of the upper ramparts. The formation of the former is principally magnesian limestone and shales, the limestone being the predominant rock. The banks of the river between the upper and lower ramparts are composed of clay, sand, and gravel.
When at Rampart House I had learned something of what to expect in the way of accommodation at Fort Yukon. Under ordinary circumstances it would not have been anything to look forward to with very much pleasure, but compared with what I had recently experienced it was quite reassuring. Jim Healy was kind enough to give me a key to an unoccupied road house which he said he owned and where I could sleep. He also informed me that I could probably get my meals at the home of a half breed who was a relative of his wife.
FORT YUKON IN ALASKA
On ascending the bank we were greeted by the usual barking of dogs, and shortly after a few Indians and one white man, the latter a storekeeper, came down to the landing, but it was growing dark, and I felt like getting to rest for the night. I repaired to the road house, unlocked the door, and fortunately found an old coal oil lamp by the light of which I explored the premises, then unpacking my blankets and spreading them on a cot in one of the rooms, I was soon prepared for a much-needed sleep. It was some time, however, before unconsciousness came to me, but it was delightful and refreshing to reflect that I had at last, after just a fortnight’s hard work, succeeded in reaching a point where all I had to do was simply to wait for a steamer in order to continue my journey. Finally I fell asleep and did not waken till about eight o’clock the next morning. The sun was shining in all its Arctic brilliancy; the sky was without a cloud and the great river in front flowed swiftly on without a breeze to disturb its glassy surface. I found my temporary home was one of perhaps thirty log houses which, with a few frame buildings, mostly all unoccupied, comprised the village.
My first task was to look around for a meal, and, naturally, I went for information to the white storekeeper, thinking he might be able to favour me, but it was the old story. His supplies had not yet arrived, and he was on short rations himself. I then informed him that I had been recommended to apply to a half breed family, but he advised me to try at the other store farther down the river, as the lady of this house was a white woman whose cooking would probably be more to my taste than what I could get at the other place. I took his advice, and soon after presented myself at the door of the house, which, to my surprise, was opened by a good looking and well dressed young lady, and on telling her the object of my visit she said they were also short of supplies, but that she would be glad to accommodate me as best she could during my short stay in the village.