A United States Judge, an English aristocrat and lady, a Seattle lawyer, sober, thoughtful and of middle age, who had been introduced to me by a friend upon sailing, and who kindly kept me in sight when we changed steamers or trains on the trip without specially appearing to do so; a nice old gentleman going to search for the body of his son lost in the Klondyke River a few weeks before, and a good many rough miners as well as nondescripts made up our unique company to Dawson. Some had been over the route before when mules and horses had been the only means of transportation over the Passes, and stories of the trials and dangers of former trips were heard upon deck each day, with accompaniments of oaths and slang phrases, and punctuated by splashes of tobacco juice.
On the voyage to Skagway there was little seasickness among the passengers, as we kept to the inland passage among the islands. At a short distance away we viewed the great Treadwell gold mines on Douglass Island, and peered out through a veil of mist and rain at Juneau under the hills. Here we left a few of our best and most pleasant passengers, and watched the old Indian women drive sharp bargains in curios, beaded moccasins, bags, etc., with tourists who were impervious to the great rain drops which are here always falling as easily from the clouds as leaves from a maple tree in October.
Our landing at Skagway under the towering mountains upon beautiful Lynn Canal was more uneventful than our experience in the Customs House at that place, for we were about to cross the line into Canadian territory. Here we presented an interesting and animated scene. Probably one hundred and fifty persons crowded the small station and baggage room, each one pushing his way as far as possible toward the officials, who with muttered curses hustled the tags upon each box and trunk as it was hastily unlocked and examined. Ropes and straps were flung about the floor, bags thrown with bunches of keys promiscuously, while transfer men perspiring from every pore tumbled great mountains of luggage hither and thither.
Two ponderous Germans there were, who, in checked steamer caps enveloped in cigar smoke of the best brand, protested vigorously at the opening of their trunks by the officers, but their protests seemed only the more to whet the appetites of these dignitaries. The big Germans had their revenge, however. In the box of one of these men was found with other things a lot of Limburger cheese, the pungent odor of which drove the women screaming to the doors, and men protesting indignantly after them; while those unable to reach the air prayed earnestly for a good stiff breeze off Lynn Canal to revive them. The Germans laughed till tears ran down their cheeks, and cheerfully paid the duty imposed.
Skagway was interesting chiefly from its historical associations as a port where so many struggling men had landed, suffered and passed on over that trail of hardship and blood two years before.
Our little narrow gauge coaches were crowded to their utmost, men standing in aisles and on platforms, and sitting upon wood boxes and hand luggage near the doors.
It was July, and the sight of fresh fruit in the hands of those lunching in the next seat almost brought tears to my eyes, for we were now going far beyond the land of fruits and all other delicacies.