“Lads, we’ve got a fight on our hands. The people on shore say that we sha’n’t land. The whole settlement is a trading-post belonging to the old company, who have fenced it in, as well as a long strip of the best beach. The only other place where we could make a landing is on a bit of beach just beyond their line, and I think they mean to fence and claim that to-morrow. Now, I don’t intend to interfere with any one’s established rights, nor am I inclined to yield my own. That strip of unfenced beach is government land, to which our right is as good as theirs. I propose, therefore, to steal a march on them by making a landing to-night with a raft of lumber, staking out a claim, and having our shanties up before morning. What do you say? Are you with me?”
“Aye, aye, sir!” came the hearty shout of the entire party, and then, in individual voices: “That we are!” “Only you lead the way, and we’ll follow close enough!” “We’ll euchre them yet!” “I’d like to see them try to drive us off from Uncle Sam’s land!” and so on, until the smiling leader raised his hand for silence.
“Thank you, men,” he said, simply. “I knew I could depend on you, and now let us get to work.”
All night long, under the skilful direction of the leader, the labor progressed steadily and cheerfully. Boats plied incessantly between ship and shore, a huge raft of lumber was floated to the beach, and when, some hours after sunrise, the sleepy inmates of Fort St. Michaels issued from their houses, they stared with amazement at what, but the evening before, had been a stretch of vacant land just beyond their boundary. Now, a large portion of it, including the beach, was staked out, a landing of log crib-work filled with rocks projected into the water, two rough board shanties and a dozen tents had been erected, camp-fires were blazing cheerily, and the sturdy colonists of this new settlement were busily eating their well-earned breakfasts.
In all this work Phil and Serge had displayed such willingness and activity as to draw forth the hearty approval of Gerald Hamer. Through the night he seemed to be everywhere, and in all places at once, always ready to lend a helping hand or speak a cheering word, and at breakfast-time Phil confided to Serge that, under such leadership, Sitka really seemed nearer at hand than it had since they started from Victoria.
As it had been begun, so the work progressed with perfect method and the utmost expedition. In ten days after the Norsk’s arrival, her entire cargo was on shore and under cover, the steamboat was ready to be launched and receive her machinery, and it seemed certain that, early in September, the Yukon party would be off. All this had been accomplished in the face of heavy odds, and every impediment had been thrown in the way of the new company by the old settlers. If Gerald Hamer hired native laborers, threats and bribes were used to induce these to desert him. Those who did work for him were paid in silver coin, which was pronounced worthless at the company’s store, and refused when offered in exchange for goods.
Native spies in the employ of the old company lurked about the camp at all hours; tools were stolen, or rendered worthless, at every opportunity, and boats were set adrift, or had holes bored in their bottoms during the night.
At length Gerald Hamer asked Phil and Serge if they would get what sleep they could in the daytime, and act as camp-guards at night. “I feel that I can trust you two implicitly,” he said.
They willingly agreed to do this, and on that very night, while they were patrolling opposite sides of the camp, Serge sprang upon a skulking figure who, by a violent effort, wrenched himself free and escaped, leaving only a broken watch-chain in the lad’s hand. To his unbounded amazement, when he and Phil examined this trophy by lantern-light, he found attached to it, as a charm, the identical bit of carved ivory that he had given to his comrade in New London, and which the latter had lost so long ago.
[“The fur-seal’s tooth!” he cried], almost doubting the evidence of his eyes.