"Since his second trip, though, the Canadian Government had got a strangle-hold on the Chilkoots an' was makin' 'em behave. It had forced 'em to make peace wi' the Stick Indians o' the interior, an' thrown the fear o' the whites into 'em good an' plenty. So I wasn't worryin' over Injuns none. The Chilkoot Pass, though, was said to be something awful to cross, but that wasn't goin' to stop me, when I knew there was good goin' on the other side an' all the creeks full o' gold.
"So I quit Treadwell an' French Pete an' got back to Juneau. There, I heard that a bunch o' prospectors led by the Schiefflin Brothers had taken a steamboat, got as far as St. Michael, gone up the Yukon, wintered at Nuklukayet an' found gold all the way. They'd struck good placers on Mynook, Hess an' Shevlin Creeks, but the Schiefflins found the ground always frozen an' terrible hard to work, an' the summer was so short they figured pannin' on the Yukon wouldn't pay.
"Think o' that, will you! The Klondyke an' the Eldorado wouldn't pay!
"That same summer, we heard that there was new gold strikes on the Lewes an' Big Salmon Rivers, which run into the Upper Yukon. Dumb MacMillan had found payin' color on the Tanana, flowin' into the Middle Yukon. The Schiefflins had located plenty o' placers on the Lower Yukon.
"It didn't take much figurin' to guess that there was gold all the way along. I made up my mind to strike over the Chilkoot into the Stewart River section, jest about unknown then; preparin', durin' the winter, for an early start.
"Early in the spring o' '84, eight of us was ready. We had a sure-enough outfit an' plenty o' grub. We was well fixed for shootin'-irons, too, for we was goin' up into hostile Injun country.
"Joe Juneau, who knew a lot about the mountains, tried to head us off, tellin' what happened to Holt an' MacMillan, but we was sot on goin', an' struck out for Dyea along the canal trail. There we headed for the interior.
"I've seen some rough goin' in my time, an' I come of a stock o' tough uns, but, I'm tellin' you, that first trip over the Chilkoot Pass was more'n horrible. I dream about it, yet—an' it's over thirty years ago!
"From Dyea to Sheep Camp was bad enough goin', half-frozen muskeg (mucky swamp), lyin' under soft snow an' all covered with a tangle o' thorn-vines climbin' over spraggly berry-bushes. There warn't no trail. It was cut your way, an' drag! We didn't have no dogs, but lugged the sleighs ourselves. It's only nine miles as the crow flies, but it took us four days to make it, with our loads.
"An' then the Chilkoot Pass stuck up in front of us, all black rock an' white snow, reachin' to the sky, an' clouds hidin' the top. It seemed like it was a-defyin' of us, well-nigh impossible.