As Others See Us: Being the Diary of a Canadian Debutante

by W. H. P. Jarvis

“The wage was high, which is an indication that travel was not northwards. The weather turned wonderfully mild, considering the recent exploits of the thermometer, and the sun shone brightly as we set out to the unknown. Only one of us had been down that river before.

“I was one of a party of six and our craft consisted of two scows lashed together. Each scow contained twenty tons of freight, and three thousand two hundred dollars was to be paid for transporting this to Dawson. My companions consisted of the four owners and a chap who was working his passage to his camp down the river, where he was engaged chopping wood for sale to the river steamers.

“One of the owners was a Yankee, two were Scotch-Canadians, and one was a Swede. The Yankee had worked all summer as deck-hand on a river steamer and so had knowledge of the currents. One of the Scotchmen was a Salvation Army man and the other just old Mac. The Swede was a decent fellow. All but the Yankee were straight-forward. He, Alec, would never look one in the face, and was of a nature soft and unassertive. I should have felt more comfortable with him had he occasionally lost his temper and sworn a bit. His only qualification was his knowledge of the river.

“I soon gathered the business details. The four owners had built one scow and tried to sell it, but, through the lateness of the season and difficulty in getting men to man it, were unable to dispose of it. So they purchased another scow and essayed to get their money out of both by contracting to deliver freight in Dawson.

“The joy of such a trip is the scenery; and then the appetite one is blessed with! Our trip through the Thirty Mile was somewhat remarkable. This river is a part of the Upper Yukon, and has caused more wrecks than any other portion of the great waterway.

“It was strewn with wrecks of scows which had tried to get through in the day time. We went through at night for the good and sufficient reason that we could not stop.

“The Thirty Mile is very swift, and our Pilot was reluctant to tie up any sooner than was absolutely necessary. In fact, on this occasion it was I who made the suggestion that we moor to the bank ere darkness had completely come.

“Strange to say my advice was acted upon; the pilot grabbed a rope and ordered the scows to be diverted towards the left bank. Then he made a spring, landed, and sought a tree to which he might tie up. There was none, but rather a world of fallen brush. The scows were moving at better than six miles per hour, and with the result that the pilot, trying in vain to keep up with us, was forced to let go the rope. There was only one thing to do, and that was for somebody on the scows to take the dingey we had with us and row back for our mate. This was done with the result that the scows were left with four men only to manage them. The gloom settled over us and the shores were dimly visible, while we swept down the canyon. A heavily-laden scow travels faster than the current that bears it. This explains how we obtained a good lead on the dingey. The light then failed, and the only thing visible was the reflection of the sky on the water. I began to give orders, or, I had better say, make suggestions. I became frightened of leaving the dingey altogether, or of coming to other calamities, so I told my fellows I would attempt to tie up the scows. Our shouts to the pilot and his rescuer brought response from both up and down the river. There was evidently a scow safely moored below us. Hastily we shouted our trouble, and the crew of the moored scow said we might tie to them. Frantically we worked to get the scows across the current for they were tied to the right bank; it was no use, we passed them. But the impetus we gained was carrying us into the right bank. Vaguely I saw the shadows, jumped, and landed up to my hips in water. I scrambled ashore and ran into a wall of rock. The rope I held tightened, and I followed its lead along the face of the rock till I went in to my middle; and then I, too, let go the rope.

“In due time, the boat picked me up and we set out in pursuit of the scows. We gained on them; finally gathering from the shouting that the woodcutter had gained the shore, had thrice snubbed the scows and the scows three times pulled a tree up by the roots. So Alec shouted to let the scows drift. We pulled the woodcutter into the boat and then regained the scows.

“The moon had risen over the canyon and light and shadow, glimmering water and sparkling skies, ranged themselves in wonderful combination, all weird, some magnificent. I remember that besides marvelling at the sights about me, I remarked the softness of the air. What the thermometer was I do not know, it could not have been much, if at all, above freezing, yet, while I was wet to the middle I have no recollection of being cold.