From Atlin we have returned as we went, and are now spending a few hours here. There were very few birds on Atlin Lake, though I saw a superb loon yesterday near the western shore.
Ice formed on the lake last night. Snow is in the air. We may be too late to go down the Yukon from Dawson.
SEVENTH LETTER.
VOYAGING DOWN THE MIGHTY YUKON.
Dawson, September 5, 1903.
This letter is headed Dawson, for I shall mail it there, but I begin it at White Horse, a thriving town of over 2,000 people, on the west bank of the Fifty Mile River, just below the famous rapids. The streets are wide, of hard gravel, many large buildings. We are in the “Windsor” Hotel, a three-storied wooden structure, iron bedsteads, wire mattresses, modern American oak furniture—very comfortable, but as all the partitions are of paper—no plaster—you can hear in one room all that is said on six sides of you—above and below, too. The city and hotel are electric-lighted. Many churches, a commodious public school, public hall and reading-room supplied with all current American, Canadian and English magazines. The town is up to date. It is at the head of the Yukon navigation, where those “going out” take the White Pass and Yukon Railway for Skagway, and those “going in” take the boats for “Dawson.” Just now the town is half deserted, many of its inhabitants having stampeded to the new Kluhane gold strike, some one hundred and forty miles away. It is here claimed that a new Eldorado as rich as the Klondike has been found, and White Horse now expects to yet rival Dawson. Extensive finds of copper ore of high grade are also reported in the neighborhood.
BISHOP AND MRS. BOMPAS.