Chapter 8 ALIVE OR DEAD

It seemed to Tom that he had hardly been asleep five minutes, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Wake up, my boy! Baranov is on the wharf, waiting for you."

With only half his wits about him, and a vague remembrance of his experience the previous year, Tom sprang up hastily, crying out, "Is there a fire?" Then he saw his father's expression, amused, but a little anxious, and remembered the plan for the day.

"What are you up for, father?" he asked, as he scrambled into his thick traveling suit. "You ought to be sound asleep in your berth."

Mr. Percival smiled, in reply. "I wanted to see you start," he said simply. Ah, these patient, loving, anxious fathers and mothers who get up early to see their children start, and sit up late to welcome them home! How little we think of it when we are boys-how the recollection of it all, and of our own heedlessness comes to us, in after years!

Fred was already up, as he shared Tom's stateroom on the steamer. In a few minutes more they were out in the sweet morning air, and, stepping softly and speaking in low tones, not to disturb the sleepers, they passed through the gangway and down to the wharf, accompanied by Mr. Percival.

The sun was just rising, and the whole sky was golden with its coming, over the dark eastern hills. It would be an hour or more before his first rays would rest on the house-tops of Juneau.

There was the old hunter, leaning against one of the mooring-posts, and looking off over the quiet Sound, to the dim blue mountains beyond. At his feet lay a large pack, two tin dippers and an ax. In the hollow of his left arm he held two guns.

As the travelers left the steamer, he turned toward them with an alert air that belied his previous slouching attitude and straggling, iron-gray hair. The first greetings over, he proceeded at once to divide the luggage.

"I'll take the pack," said he, "and my ax. You two boys take the guns-we sha'n't need to load 'em much before noon. Tie a tin dipper around your waist, each of ye. Here's some twine."

"Have you got provisions?" asked Mr. Percival.

"Plenty," replied Solomon. "All ready, boys?"

"Good-by! good-by!" they said, still speaking quietly. While Fred, seeing a crimson handkerchief-which looked remarkably like one worn by Kittie the day before-waving from one of the little stateroom windows, waved his in return.

"Good-by, Fred. My dear boy," turning to Tom, "take care of yourself. Remember, if you are delayed, I shall not leave Juneau without you. Allow plenty of time for the return trip. Be very careful of the guns. Good-by!"

The anxious father pressed both the boys' hands. They turned away, and passing around the buildings at the head of the wharf, were soon out of sight.

Once more he saw them, as they climbed the first low hill, back of the town. They waved their hats to him, then disappeared in the edge of the forest.

All the party were rather grave at the breakfast table, that morning. Mrs. Percival had been greatly disinclined to consent to the hunt, but she was a strong woman, and was afraid of trusting her feelings in a matter where she admitted her husband was the best judge.

In the forenoon Randolph accompanied his uncle to the Silver Bow Basin, and inspected for himself the marvelous valley whose sands are so filled with precious metal that miners for years have worked in it here and there, successfully washing out gold with the rudest contrivances.

The superintendent in charge of the principal works showed them the tunnel, and the process of sluicing out the sand by a powerful stream of water, or "hydraulicking," as he called it. The stream plunged into the sand in a deep pit, and then rushed off rapidly through a long tunnel which had been dug and blasted through the rocky heart of the mountain toward the sea.

"What takes the gold out?" asked Randolph.

"Why, we place those cross pieces, or riffles, at short distances all the way down, in the sluice-way which runs the whole length of the tunnel. On the upper side of the riffles is placed a quantity of quicksilver for which the gold has such an affinity (it sinks to the bottom of the stream), that it combines with it. Every week or so we have a 'clean up,' when a good many thousand dollars' worth of gold is taken out and shipped South."

"When do you begin to work?" asked Mr. Percival.

"Well, we calculate to commence operations about the first of May. It's according to the season. Of course we can't get our power until the snow melts on the mountains, and we get a good head of water."

After a thorough examination of these mines, they returned to the village, and in the afternoon took the ferry boat to Douglas Island, where they once more inspected the great treadwell mine which sometimes turns out a hundred thousand dollars' worth of gold in a single month.

ALASKAN BASKET WEAVERS AT HOME.

The ore here is imbedded in quartz, which is crushed in an immense stamp-mill where the noise of the crushers was so great that the loudest shout could not be heard. Randolph and Mr. Percival could only communicate with the guide and with each other by signs, as they walked through the building.

While these two were off on their mining tour, Bessie managed, with the help of a cane and Mr. Selborne's arm, to walk slowly along the main street of Juneau. There were a number of fur stores, and others with beautiful displays of Chilkat blankets and baskets, the latter in many odd varieties of shape and color.

Native women sat in groups, with their wares spread out on the sidewalk before them; baskets, carvings, silver bracelets, and a queer kind of orange-colored fruit which the visitors found were the famous "salmon berries" of Alaska.

Rossiter bought a silver spoon, finely carved, with some sort of a bird's-head design.

"What kind of a bird is it?" asked the minister.

The Alaskan shook his head, to show he did not understand.

"What kind?" asked Rossiter again, very slowly, and a little more loudly, as one is apt to speak, in trying to converse with a foreigner.

The native seemed now to gather the meaning of the question, but was at a loss to express himself in reply.

Suddenly with a quick smile he flapped his arms like wings, and cried "Caw! caw!"

"Ah," exclaimed Selborne, "it's a raven!" and the vendor nodded his head violently, much gratified at the success of his pantomime.

Next morning the sole topic was, How soon will they return? Have they found any game? Won't they be tired!

Captain Carroll pinned up a notice in the main saloon, stating that the steamer would sail at three in the afternoon, the repairs having been completed more quickly than he had expected.

Mr. Percival looked troubled at the change of plan, but there was no help for it. Every hour of delay was an additional expense to the company; and besides, certain perilous straits ahead had to be passed at exactly such a tide, and the captain had made his calculations accordingly.

Noon came, but with it no sign of the hunters.

One o'clock. All the Percival party, and indeed most of the steamer's passengers who knew the situation and were acquainted with the boys, gathered on deck, gazing anxiously toward the high slopes which rimmed the town. Still no indication of the returning party.

Mr. Percival now packed his own valise, as well as those of his son and Fred, and told his family he should remain in Juneau if the boys did not return in time for the boat. The Queen was to touch here, contrary to its usual custom, to take a shipment of bullion on its way back to the States. The party could manage quite well on board ship during the intervening four or five days; and although Mrs. Percival's heart was torn with anxiety, she could see no better plan.

At three o'clock, therefore, Mr. Percival stood on the wharf with the three portmanteaus, and the Queen, giving a long blast of its whistle, moved majestically northward.

The head of the family who had thus remained behind soon found comfortable lodgings for himself near by, and then repaired directly to the wharf, where he was sure the belated hunters would hasten at once, on their return.

Supper-time came, and a poor meal he made of it, at his lodging-house. Returning to the wharf he vainly paced the planks in the golden twilight until nearly midnight, when he slowly retraced his steps to his lodgings, full of forebodings and self-reproach for his weakness in consenting to indulge his heedless boy in such a reckless undertaking.

In the morning he was astir at sunrise, but his repeated and anxious inquiries failed to reveal any news of the absent ones.

Looking haggard and old, he set about raising a relief party, to start up the mountain at once. Alive or dead, they must be found!

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