We have two sleds now nearly finished, so that if the doctor confirms the news, we will be ready to start immediately for the Koyukuk in the teeth of an Arctic winter. Let it growl: What care gold-hunters for old Boreas? We are in high spirits. Last night we had what is denominated with us "a high old time." We yelled, and danced, and sang impromptu songs, such as the following, which needs the camp conditions to give it the true ring:
The Flying Dutchman came round the bend,
Good-by, old Kowak, good-by;
Shouting the news to all the men,
Good-by, old Kowak, good-by.
Gold is found on the Koyukuk,
The people here will be piechuck (Eskimo for "gone").
The "Penelope" gang have made a sleigh,
And part are now upon the way.
If you get there before I do.