The Bungalow Boys Along the Yukon by John Henry Goldfrap
CHAPTER XVII.
THE "YUKON ROVER."
Some weeks later there steamed away from the wharf side at St.Michaels, a small, stern-wheeled craft of light draught. So light wasit, in fact, that the loungers on the dock who watched its departuredeclared that it would be possible to navigate it on a heavy dew.
It bore the name _Yukon Rover_, and was painted white with a singleblack smoke-stack. As it drew away from the dock, it blew a salute ofthree whistles which was answered by a fair-sized steamer lying in theroads.
As our readers will have guessed, the _Yukon Rover_ was the portablesteam craft which had been shipped north to the Yukon on the deck ofthe _Northerner_, which latter was the vessel that replied to thesmall craft's farewell. The _Northerner_ was to return to Seattle,carrying down what cargo she could pick up, and come back late in theyear with a cargo for the needs of the country during the rigidAlaskan winter, when little can be shipped. In this way Mr. Dacre andMr. Chillingworth hoped to make their venture additionally profitable.
On the bow of the small light-draught craft was a strange ornament.This figure-head, if such it can be called, was nothing more nor lessthan the figure of a buck-toothed man roughly carved out of wood anddaubed with faded paint. In a word, it was Sandy MacTavish's mascot,now assigned to duty on the small craft which was to carry theadventurers up the turbulent currents of the mighty Yukon.
As to the _Yukon Rover's_ mission, there was much speculation in St.Michaels concerning it. But the consensus of opinion was that the twogentlemen and the boys were going on a scientific expedition of somesort. The "Bug Hunters" was the name bestowed upon them in the farnorthern town from whence embarkation for the mouth of the Yukon wasmade.
This suited Mr. Dacre and his partner well enough, as they had no wishfor the real object of their expedition to become known. The huntersand trappers of the Far North are a jealous, vindictive lot when theyimagine that what they consider their inalienable rights to the furand feather of the land are being invaded by outsiders.
Both gentlemen knew that if any suspicion of the real object of theirvoyage leaked out, much trouble might be made for them, although itwas still rather early in the year for any trappers to be going"inside," as penetrating into the interior of Alaska is called.
A shed near the waterfront had been rented and ways constructed, andhere the _Yukon Rover_ had been rapidly put together by the engineersfrom the _Northerner_. But on her trip up the river the boys were toact as machinists and stokers, and as the _Yukon Rover's_ machinerywas simple enough, this was a delightful and interesting task to them.Like most healthy, normal boys, our young friends liked to tinker withmachinery, and they had had plenty of instruction in their new dutieson the trial trips of the stern-wheeler.
Tom, who had been relieved at the engines by Jack, while Sandyattended to stoking the small boiler, adapted to either wood or coalburning, came on deck and surveyed the scene they were leaving behindthem.
Astern was St. Michael, lying on the island which bears its name andwhich is separated from the mainland by a shallow strip of water knownas St. Michael's Slough. The town was uninteresting and he was notsorry to leave it, a feeling that his two chums fully shared.
The white houses, the spire of the old Russian Church and theodd-looking fort, half ruinous, which stood near the Alaska TradingCompany's hotel, were the most conspicuous features of the dull, drabtown. There was hardly a tree on the island, and fuel was in the mainsupplied by the timber which in flood time drifted down the Yukon fromthe interior in great quantities and was washed up on the beach orsecured in boats.
"Good-by, St. Michael, and ho, for the Yukon!" thought Tom, as turninghis face in the other direction, he gazed forward.
The _Yukon Rover_ was ploughing along at about eight knots an hour.Black smoke pouring from her stack showed that Sandy was keeping uphis furnace faithfully. Forward of the bow-like structure whichcontained sleeping and eating accommodations, was a miniature pilothouse. In this was Mr. Dacre at the wheel, while beside him Mr.Chillingworth was poring over charts of the treacherous sandy deltathat marks the junction of the Yukon and the sea. The course wassouthwest, along a flat, dreary-looking coast that afforded nothingmuch worthy of notice.
Since their memorable adventures at Kadiak, life had moved dully forthe excitement-loving Bungalow Boys. Tom found himself hoping that nowthat their voyage for the Yukon had fairly begun, they would find somelively times. How near at hand these were and how lively they were tobe, he did not dream as the _Yukon Rover_, rolling slightly in theswell, made her way toward the "Golden River."
Jack joined his brother on deck.
"Everything running smoothly?" asked Tom.
"Smooth as silk," declared Jack. "Say, isn't it fine to be under wayagain after sticking around St. Michael like bumps on a log?"
"I should say so. I have a notion that we are going to have some fun,too, before we get through."
"Same here. Well, I'm ready for whatever happens, short of anothertidal bore. One was quite enough for me."
That afternoon they came in sight of the northern mouth of the Yukon,by which they were to enter the stream. It required skillful steeringto guide the _Yukon Rover_ through the maze of sand bars and shoalsthat encompassed her, and they had not gone far between the low,marshy shores when Mr. Dacre gave a hail from the pilot house throughthe speaking tube that connected the steering compartment with theengine-room.
"Leave your engines a while to Sandy's care," he ordered Jack, whoanswered the hail, "and come on deck."
Tom and Jack lost no time in obeying the summons, and found that theywere required to manipulate the big poles, with which it was necessaryto help guide the small steamer against the stiff current. It was hardwork, even with the aid of Mr. Chillingworth, to keep the _YukonRover_ on her course, but from time to time the stream widened out andbecame deeper and they got a short respite.
Toward dusk they passed a native canoe or bidarka, a narrow-beamed,cranky craft of walrus skins stretched over frames. In it sat twohigh-cheek-boned natives with slanting eyes, bearing remarkableresemblances to the inhabitants of Japan. The small, cranky craft shotswiftly past and was followed, round a bend in the river, by threemore. The natives appeared not to pay much attention to the steamer,although the boys shouted and hulloed in salute as they passed.
A short time after passing the natives, Jack announced that theengine, a new one, was heating up badly and that it would be necessaryto stop and make a thorough inspection of the machinery. Accordingly,the _Yukon Rover_ was tied to the bank and preparations made for asomewhat lengthy stop.
Flocks of wild geese and other birds could be seen settling down abovethe flat country surrounding them, and the boys begged permission togo out with their guns. That is, Tom and Sandy did. Jack was too busyon his engines to spare the time. The notion of a hunting trip to killtime till supper was voted a good one, and Mr. Dacre and Mr.Chillingworth decided to accompany the boys.
Full of high spirits, the party struck off across the tundra, leavingJack hard at work on the machinery. They had been gone perhaps an hourwhen the boy was surprised to hear a step in the engine-room. Helooked up quickly, thinking that possibly it was his friendsreturning, but instead, facing him, he saw the yellow face andskin-clad figure of one of the natives who had passed them in thecanoes. Jack possessed a mind that worked quickly. A notion shot intohis head that the fellow was there on mischief bent, and certainlythe startled way in which he regarded the boy supported thatsuspicion.
It was plain that the native had not expected to find anyone on boardthe _Yukon Rover_, and that he and his companions, some of whom nowswarmed into the engine-room, had imagined, from the fact that theyhad seen the hunting party, that the craft was deserted by all hands.This being the case, they had returned to see what they could find inthe way of small plunder. Jack recalled having heard at St. Michaelsthat the natives of the Yukon are notorious small thieves and he atonce decided that knavery was the purpose of their visit.
The boy was in a quandary for a moment. There were six of the nativesand he was alone on the boat. Doubtless, too, the hunting party wasout of ear-shot. It was an anxious moment for the boy as he stoodthere facing the pilfering natives and undecided how to act.
But the next moment there came to him that indignation which everyonefeels when marauders intrude upon his possessions.
"Hey, you! What do you mean by stealing those things?" demanded Jack,indicating the cans and other articles which the natives had tuckedunder their arms.
The chief broke silence with what was meant for a friendly grin.
"Me good mans! All good mans!" he said.
"Humph! Well, that being the case, it's funny you should come aboardhere when you thought no one was about and steal our food."
"You give us. We good mens," said the chief, with unruffledamiability.
"We might have been willing to do that if you hadn't helpedyourselves," said Jack indignantly, "but under the circumstancesyou'll have to put those things back and get off this boat."
Unquestionably the chief did not understand all of this speech, butpart of it was within his comprehension for he said:
"No, no; you give us."
"Not on your life," declared Jack, coming forward wrench in hand.
Now, whether the chief interpreted this move into a hostile signal ornot cannot be decided, but it is certain that he uttered some quick,guttural words to his followers and instantly all sorts of weaponsappeared as if by magic--rifles, harpoons and nogocks, orwhale-killing weapons. Things began to look grave. But Jack held hisground.
He looked the chief right between the eyes and then spoke slowly,giving every word due emphasis.
"You give back all you take. We, Uncle Sam's men. Understand?"
This remark appeared to give the chief ground for reflection, for hehesitated an instant before replying. But when he did, it was in anirritated voice.
"You no give 'um,--we take."
So saying, the natives backed slowly out of the engine-room, which wasflush with the deck. Jack, completely taken aback, hesitated for amoment, which gave the men time to clamber over the low sides of the_Yukon Rover_ and into their bidarkas. As Jack emerged on deck, theystarted paddling swiftly off.
Jack bounded into his cabin and came back with a rifle. He had nointention of shooting the men, but he wanted to give them a goodscare. He had hardly raised the weapon to his shoulder before he sawthe chief rise up in his wabbly skin boat and whirl his nogock. Fromthe weapon there flew, much as a stone is projected from a sling, asharp-barbed dart of steel.
The boy by some instinct dodged swiftly, and the barbed dart whistledby his ear and sank into the woodwork of the deck-house.
In his indignation, he discharged the rifle. The bullet must have goneuncomfortably close to the natives, although he did not aim it atthem, for they fell to their paddles with feverish energy and vanishedaround a bend in the stream, working furiously to get out of range.
"Well," remarked Jack to himself, "our adventures are surely beginningwithout losing any time over it."