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About The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current | View Entire Issue (June 7, 1903)
n 4 SO THE SUNDAY OREGONIAN, PORTLAND, JUNE 7, 1903. AT THE "RAlNBOW'S END By JACK LONDON b T was for two reasons that Montana 1 Kid discarded his "chaps" and Mexi- can spurs and. shook. the dust of the Idaho ranges from his feet. In the first place, the encroachment of a steady, so ber and sternly moral civilization had de stroyed the primeval status of the "West ern cattle ranges, and refined society turned the cold eye of disfavor upon him and his ilk. In the second place, in one of its cyclopean moments the race had arisen and shoved back its frontier sev eral thousand miles. Thus, with uncon scious foresight, did mature society make room for its adolescent members. True, the new territory was mostly bar ren; but its several hundred thousand square miles of frigidity at least gave breathing space to those who else would have suffocated at home. Montana Kid was such a one. Heading for the seacoast with a haste several sheriffs posses might possibly have ex plained, and with more .nerve than coin of the realm, be succeeded in shipping from a Puget Sound port, and managed to survive the contingent miseries of steerage seasickness and steerage grub. He was rather sallow and drawn, but still his own indomitable self when he landed on the Dyea beach one day in the spring of the year. Between the cost of dogs, grub and outfits and the customs exac tions of two clashing governments, it speedily penetrated to his understanding that the northland was anything save a poor man's Mecca. So he cast about him in search of quick harvests. Between the beach and the passes were scattered many thousands of passionate pilgrims. These pilgrims Montana Kid proceeded to farm. At first he dealt faro 1n a pine board gambling shack; but disagreeable necessity forced him to drop a sudden period into a man's life and to iriove on up trail. Then he effected a cor ner on horseshoe nails, and they circu lated at par with legal tender, four to a dollar, till an unexpected consignment of a hundred barrels or so broke the market and forced him to disgorge his stock at a loss. After that he located at Sheep Camp, organized the professional packers and jumped the freight 10 cents a pound In a single day. In token of their graltude tho packers patronized his faro and rou lette layouts and were mulcted cheerfully of their earnings. But his commercialism was of too lusty a growth to be long en dured; so thoy rushed him one night, Uurned his shanty, divided the bank and headed him up the trail with empty pock ets. Ill luck was his running mate. He en gaged with responsible parties to run whiskey across the line by way of pre carious and unknown trails, lost his In dian guides and had the very first outfit confiscated by the mounted police. Numer ous other misfortunes tended to make him bitter of heart and wanton of action, and he celebrated his arrival at Lake Ben nett by terrorizing the camp for 20 straight hours. Then a miners' meeting took hfm In hand, and commanded him to make himself scarce. He had a whole some respect for such assemblages, and he obeyed in such haste that he inadvert ently removed himself at the tail-end of another man's dog team. This was equiv alent to horse stealing in a more mellow clime, so he hit only the high places across Bennett and down Tagish, and made his first camp a full hundred miles to the north. Now it happened that the break of spring was at hand, and many of the principal citizens of Dawson were travel ing south on the last Ice. These he met ana taiKea witn, noted their names and possessions, and passed on. He had a gooa memory, also a fair imagination; nor was veracity one of his virtues. Dawson, always eager for news, beheld Montana Kid's sled heading down the Yukon, and went out on the ice to meet him. No, he hadn't any newspapers; didn't know whether Durrant was hanged yet. nor who won the Thanksgiving game; hadn't heard whether the "United States and Spain had gone fo fighting; didn't know who Dreyfus was; but O'Brien? Hadn't they heard? O'Brien, why, he was drowned in the "White Horse; Sitka Char ley was the only one of the party who escaped. Joe Ladue? Both legs frozen and amputated at the Five Fingers. And Jack Dalton? Blown up on the Sea Lion with all hands. And Bettles? "Wrecked on the Carthaglna In Seymour Narrows 20 survivors out of 300. And Swiftwater Bill? Gone through the rotten ice of Lake Le Barge with i. female members of the opera troupe he was convoying Governor "Walsh? Lost with all hands and eight sleds on the Thirty-Mile. Dev ereaux? "Who was Devereaux? Oh, the courier! Shot by Indians on Lake Marsh. So it went. The word was passed along. Men shouldered in to ask after friends and partners, and in turn were shouldered out, too stunned for blasphemy. By the time Montana Kid gained the bank he was sur rounded by several hundred fur-clad min ers. When he passed the barracks he was the center of a procession. At the opera house ho was the nucleus of an excited mob, each member struggling for a chance to ask after some absent comrade. On every side he was being Invited to drink. Never before had the Klondike thus opened its arms to a che-cha-qua. All Dawson was .humming. Such a series of catastrophes had never occurred in its his tory. Every man of no'te who had gone south in the Spring had been wiped out The cabins vomited forth their occupants. "Wild-eyed men hurried down from the creeks and gulches to seek out this man who had told a tale of such disaster. The Russian half-breed wife of Bettles sought the fireplace. Inconsolable, and rocked "back and forth and ever and anon flung white wood ashes upon her raven hair. The flag at the barracks flopped dismally et half-mast. Dawson mourned its dead. "Why Montana Kid. did this thing no man may know. Not beyond the fact that the truth was not in him can explanation bs hazarded. But for five whole days he plunged the land in walling and sorrow and for five whole days he was the only man In the Klondike. The saloons gave him the, freedom of Uieir bars. The coun try gave him the best of its bed and hoard. Men sought him continuously. The high officials bowed down to him for fur ther information, and he was feasted at the barracks by Constantino and his brother officers. And then one day Dev ereaux, the Government courier, halted his tired dogs before the gold commissioner's office. Dead? Who said so? Give him a moose steak and he'd show them how dead ho was. Why. Governor Walsh was in camp on the Little Salmon, and O'Brien coming in on the first water. Dead? Give him a moose steak and he'd show them. And forthwith Dawson hummed. The barracks flag rose to the masthead, and Bettles wife washed herselCand put on clean raiment. The communitv subtly signified its desire that Montana Kid ob literate himself from the landscape. And Montana Kid obliterated as usual, at the tail-end of some one else's dog team. Dawson rejoiced when he headed down the Tukon and wished him Godspeed to the ultimate destination of the case hardened sinner. After that the owner of the dogs bestirred himself, made com plaint to Constantlne, and from him re ceived the loan of a policeman. With Circle City in prospect and the last ice crumbling under his runners. Montana Kid took advantage of the lengthening days and traveled his dogs late and early. Further, he had but little doubt that the owner of the dogs in ques tion had taken his trail, and he wished j ti make American territory before the ' river broke. But by the afternoon of the third day it became evident that he had lost In his race, with Spring. The Tukon was growling and straining at its fetters. Long detours became necessary, for the trail had begun to fall through' into the swift current beneath, while the ice, in constant unrest, was thundering apart in great gaping fissures. Through these and through countless airholes the water began to sweep across the surface of the ice, and by the time he pulled into a woodchopper's cabin on the point of an island the dogs were being rushed oft their feet and were swimming more often than not. He was greeted sourly by the two residents, but he unharnessed and proceeded to cook up. Donald and Davy were fair specimens of frontier inefflcients." Canadian-born, city-bred Scots, in a foolish moment they had resigned counting-house desks, drawn upon their savings and gone Klondyking. And now they were feeling the' rough edge of the country. Grubless", spiritless, with a lust for home in their hearts, they had been staked by the P. C. Company to cut wood for its steamers, with the promise at the end of a passage home. Disregarding the possibilities of the let run they had fittingly demon strated thir Inefficiency .by their choice of the l&iand on which they located. Mon tana Kid. though possessing little knowl edge of the break-up of a great river, looked about him dubiously, and cast yearning glances at the "distant bank, where the towering bluffs promised im munity from all the ice of the northland. After feeding himself and dogs his lighted his pipe and strolled out to get a-better idea of the situation. The island, like all its river brethren, stood higher at the upper end. and it was here that Donald and Davy had built their cabin and plied many cords of wood. The far shore was a full mile away, while be tween the Island and the near shore lay a back channel perhaps a hundred yards across. At first sight of this Montana Kid was tempted to take his dogs and es cape to the mainland, but on closer in spection he discovered a rapid current flooding on top. Below the river twisted -,-Hcre Friday. It roses that is a is a they sharply to the west, and in this turn its breast was studded by a maze of tiny Islands. "That's where she'll jam." he remarked to himself. Half a dozen sleds, evidently bound up stream to Daweon, were splashing through the chill water to the tall of the Island. Travel on the river was passing from the precarious to, the Impossible, and it was nip and tuck with tbem till they gained the island and came up the path of the woodchoppers" toward the cabin. One of them, snowbllnd, towed helplessly at the rear of the sled. Husky young fellows they were, rough-garmented and trail worn, yet Montana Kid had met the breed before and knew at once that It was not his kind. "Hello! HoWs things up Dawson way" queried the foremost, passing hie eye over Donald and Davy and settling it upon the Kid. A first meeting In the wilderness is not characterized by formality. The talk quickly became general, and the news of the Upper and Lower Countries was swapped equitably back and forth. But the little the newcomers had was soon over with, for they had wintered at MInook, a thousand miles below, whore nothing was doing. Montana Kid, how ever, was fresh from Salt Water, and they annexed him while they pitched camp, swamping him with questions con cerning the outside from which they had been cut off for a twelvemonth. A shrieking split, suddenly lifting itself above the general uproar of the river, drew everybody to the bank. The surface water had increased in depth, and the ice, 1 assailed from above and below, was strug gling to tear Itself from the grip of the shores. Fissures reverberated Into life before their eyes, and the air was filled with multitudinous crackling, crisp and sharp, like the sound that goes up on a clear day from the firing line. From up the river two men were racing a dog team toward them on an, uncovered stretch of Ice. But even as they looked, the pair struck the water and began to flounder through. Behind, where their feet had sped the moment before, the Ice A "FORTTXE'S DOUBLE YELLOW," IX THE GARDEN OF FREDERICK V. HOL3IAX. 1 ' picture of one rosebush In the garden of Frederick V. Holrnan. corner -Taylor and -Lownsdale streets, photographed s last Fortune's Double Tellow, also known as the Gold of Ophlr, and covers a space nearly 20 feet square. So thick are tUs almost hide tfre foliage. They have bloomed literally by the thousands. broke up and turned turtle. Through this opening the river rushed out upon them to their waists, burying the eled and swing ing the dogs off at right angles in a" drowning tangle. But the men stopped .their flight to give the animals a fighting chance, and they groped hurriedly in the cold confusion, slashing at the detaining traces w.lth their sheath knives. Then they fought their way to the bank through swirling water and grinding Ice. where, foremost in leaping to the rescue among the jarring fragments, was the Kid. "Why," blame me. If it ain't Montana Kid!" exclaimed one of the men whom the Kid was just placing upon his feet at the. top of the bank. He wore the scar let tunic of the mounted police and Jocu larly raised his right hand in salute. "Got a warrant fpr you. Kid," he con tinued, drawing a bedraggled paper from his breast pocket, "an I 'ope you'll come along peacable." Montana Kid looked at the chaotic river and shrugged his shoulders, and the police man, following his glance, smiled. "Where are the dogs?" his companion asked. "Gentlemen." interrupted the policeman, "this 'ere mate o mine Is Jack Suther land, owner of Twenty-two Eldorado "Not Sutherland of 92?" broke" In the snow-bllnded Minook man, groping feebly toward him. "The same." Sutherland gripped his hand. "And you?" "Oh, I'm after your time, but I remem ber you In my freshman year. You were doing G. P. work then. Boys," he called, turning half about, "this Is Sutherland. Jack Sutherland, erstwhile fullback on the 'varsity. Come up. you gold chasers, and fall upon him! Sutherland, this Is Green wichplayed quarter two seasons back." "Yes, I read of the game," Sutherland said, shaking hands. "And 1 remeihber that big run of yours for the first touch down." Greenwich flushed darkly under his tanned skin and awkwardly made room for another. "And here's Matthews Berkeley man. And we've got some Eastern cracks knocking about, too. Comeup, you Prince ton men! Come up! This Is Sutherland, Jack Sutherland." Then they fell upon him heavily, carried him Into camp and supplied him-with dry clothes and numerous mugs of black tea. Donald and Davy, overlooked, had retired- to their nightly game of crib. Mon tana Kid followed them with the police man. "Here, get Into some dry togs," he said, pulling them from out his scanty kit. "Guess you'll have to bunk with me. too." "Well, I say,, you're a good 'un," the policeman remarked as ho pulled on the other man's socks. "Sorry I've got to take you back to Dawson, but I only 'ope they won't be 'ard on you." "Not so fast." The Kid smiled curiously. "We ain't under way yet. When I go I'm going down river, and I guess the chances are you'll go along." "Not if I know myself- " "Come on outside and I'll show you, then. These damn fools," thrusting a thumb over his shoulder at the" two Scots, "played smash when they located here. Fill your pipe first this is a- pretty good plug and enjoy yourself while you can. You haven't many smokes before you." The policeman went with him wonder lngly, while Donald and Davy dropped their cards, .and followed. The Minook men noticedAMontana Kid pointing, now up the rlverfjnow down, and came over. "What's up?" Sutherland demanded. "Nothing much." Nonchalance sat well upon the Kid. 'Just a case of raising hell and putting a chunk under. See that bend down there? That's where she'll Jarf mil lions of tons of ice. Then she'll jam in the bends up above, millions of tons. Upper jam breaks first, lower jam holds, pouf !" He dramatically swept the island with his hand. "Millions of tons," he added re flectively. "And what of the woodpiles?" Davy questioned. . The Kid repeated his sweeping gesture and Davy wailed: "The labor of months! It canna be! Na, na, lad. It canna be. I doot not It's a jowk. Ay, say that it is," be appealed. But when the Kid laughed harshly and turned on his heel, Davy flung, himself upon the plies and began frantically to toss tho cord wood back from the bank. "Lend a hand, Donald!" he cried. "Can ye no lend a hand? "Tis the labor of months,. and the passage home!" Donald caught him by the .arm and shook him. but he tore free. "Did ye no hear, man? Millions of tons and the isl and shall be sweplt clean!" "Straighten yersel' up, man," said Don ald. "It's a "bit fashed ye are." But Davy fell upon the cordwood. Don ald stalked back to the cabin, buckled on his money belt and Davy's and went out to the p.olnt of the Island where the ground was highest, and where a huge pine towered above It3 fellows. The men before the cabin heard the ringing of his ax and smiled. Greenwich returned from across the Island with the word that they were penned In. It was impossible to cross the back channel. The blind Minook man began to sing, and the rest Joined in with Wonder If 4t's true? Does It teem so to you? Seems to me he's lying Oh, I wonder If It's true? "It's ay slnfuV Davy moaned, lifting his head and watching them dance in the slanting rays of the sun. "And my guld wood a-going to waste." Oh. I wonder If it's true? was flaunted back. The noise of the river ceased suddenly. A strange calm wrapped about them. The Ice had ripped from the' shores and was floating higher on the surface of the riv er, which was rising. Up it came, swift and silent, for 20 feet, till the huge cakes rubbed softly against; the crest of the bank. The tall of the island, being lower, was overrun. Then. without effort, the white flood started down stream. But the sound Increased with tho momentum and soon the whole island was shaking and quivering with the shock of the grind ing bergs. Under pressure the mighty cakes, weighing hundreds of tons, were shot Into the air like peas. The frigid anarchy Increased its riot, and the men had to shout into one another's ears to be heard. Occasionally the racket from the back channel could be heard above the tumult. The island shuddered with the impact of an enormous cake which drove In squarely upon its point. It ripped a score of pines out by the roots, then, swinging around and over, lifted Its muddy base from the bottom of the river and bore down upon the cabin, sllc- Irfg the bank and trees away like a gi gantic knife. It eemed barely to graze the corner of the cabin, but the cribbed logs tilted up like matches, and the struc ture, like a toy house, fell backward in ruin. "The labor of months! The labor of months and the passage home!" Davy DISCOVERY OF CRATER LAKE AN OREGON PIONEER TELLS HOW HE FOUND AND NAMED IT WHILE HUNTING FOR GOLD OPE "VILLA, La., May-21. (To the Editor.) In your Sunday Issue of May 10, 1903, I see that a former resident of Southern Oregon in the early SOs claims to have been with the party that discovered Crater Lake. Mr. Clark dates his supposed discovery many years too late. Just 50 years ago this Summer a party of prospectors from California came to Rogue River "Valley, stopped a day or two, laid in a supply of provisions, and then left the valley, as they supposed, secretly, and without having betrayed the object of their visit; but while making their purchases, one of the party drank, and talked enough to cause some of my friends to repeat and speculate unon the ""object of their mission, which was soon declared to be the old familiar hunt for the Lost Cabin mine. If I remember rightly, there were 11 members of the California party, and juet as soon as their object became known another party of Oregon prospectors was formed to follow them, and if the mine was redis covered", to share in the fruits of the fabulous wealth that were supposed to follow. At this late date I cannot recall the names of the party formed to follow the California prospectors. I think our par ty consisted of 11 Just the same number as the party we were to- follow. I think Henry Kllppell. J. L. Loudon, Pat Mc Manus, a Mr. Little, and myself were part of the number. I know Loudon was there; I am almost sure Kllppell and Little were there, and I am sure I was one of the number. We made quick prep arations, got some provisions together, and started after the California miners, who soon discovered we were on their trail; and then It was a game of hlde-'and-seek, until rations on both sides be gan to get low. The Callfornlans would push through the brush, scatter, double backwards on their trail, and then camp in the most inaccessible places to he found, and it sometimes puzzled us to locate and camp near enough to watch them. One day while thus engaged, and when provisions had run very low, each party scattered out to look for anything in the shape of game that could be found. On my return from an unsuccessful hunt I passed close to the camp of tjje- Call fornlans. Up to this time neither party had spoken to one of the others, but see ing a young fellow In camp, I bade him good-day, and got in conversation with him. He asked me what our object was in the mountains, and why we hung so close on their trail. I frankly told him we believed their leader had certain landmarks, which. If found, would enable them to locate the "Lost Cabin," and as we were all pretty good prospectors and hunters, we In tended to stay with them until the mine was found or starvation drove us back to the valley. After this a truce was de clared, and we worked and hunted in unison. One day Just before deciding that It was no longer safe to stay in the mountains with our very limited supply of food and no game to be found, we camped on the side of a mountain, and after consultation it was decided that a few of each party should take what pro visions could be spared and for a couple of days longer hunt for landmarks which the leader of the California party was in search of; of that party I was one. Lou don did not go with us, and who else did or did not go I cannot remember. On the evening of our first day, while riding up a long, sloping mountain, we suddenly came In sight of water and were very much surprised, as we did not expect to see any lakes, and did not know but what we had come In sight of and close to Klamath Lake, and not until my mule stopped within a few feet of the rim of Crater Lake did I look down, and If I had been riding a blind mule I firm ly believe I would have ridden over the edge to death and destruction. We came to1 the lake a very little to the right of a small sloping butte or mountain, situ ated In the lake, with a top somewhat flattened. Every man of the party" gazed with wonder at the sight before him, and each in his own peculiar way gave ex pression to the thoughts within him, but walled, while Montana Kid and the po liceman dragged him backward from the woodpiles. . - - . i "You'll -'ave plenty o hopportunlty all In good time for yer passage ome." the policeman growled, clouting him along side the head and sending him flying into safety. Donald, from the top of the pine, saw the devastating berg sweep away the cordwood and disappear down stream. As though satisfied with this damage, tho ice flood quickly dropped to its level and began to slacken Its pace. The noise like wise eased down, and the others couU hear Donald shouting from his eyrie to look down stream. As forecast, the Jam had come among the islands in the bend, and the ice was.plllng up in a great bar rier which stretched from shore to shore. The river came to a standstill and the water, finding no outlet, began to rise. It rushed up till the island was awash, the men splashing around up to their knees, and the dogs swimming to the ruins of the cabin. At this stage it ab ruptly became stationary, with no per ceptible rise or fall. Montana Kid shook his head. "It's jammed above, and no mode's coming down." "And the gamble is, which jam will break first." Sotherland added. "Exactly," the Kid affirmed. "If the upper jam breaks first, we haven't a chance. Nothing will stand before it." The Minook men turned away in silence, but soon "Rumsky Ho" floated upon the quiet air, followed by "The Orange and the Black." Room was made In the circle for Mqntana Kid and the policeman, and they quickly caught the ringing rhythm of the choruses as they drifted from song to song. "Oh, Donald, will ye no lend a hand?" Davy sobbed at the foot of the tree Into which his comrade had climbed. "Oh. Donald, man, will ye no lend a hand?" he sobbed again, his hands bleeding from vain attempts to scale the slippery trunk. But Donald had fixed his gaze up river, and now his voice rang out, vibrant with fear: ' , "God Almighty,, here she comes!" Standing knee-deep In the icy water, the Minook man, with Montana Kid and the policeman, gripped hands and raised their voices In the terrible 'IBattle Hymn of the Republic" But the words were drowned In the advancing roar. And to Donald was vouchsafed a sight such as no man can see and live. A great wall of white flung Itself upon the Island. Trees, dogs, men, were blotted out as though the hand of God had wiped the face of nature clean. This much he saw, then swayed an Instant longer In his lofty perch and hurtled .far out Into the frozen hell. (Copyright. 1003.) we had no time to lose, and after roll ing some boulders down the side of the lake, we rode to the left, as near the rim as possible, past the butte, looking to see an outlet for the lake, but we could find none. I was very anxious to find a way to the water, .which was immediately vetoed by the whole party, and as the leader of the Callfornlans had become discour aged, we decided to return to camp, but not before we discussed what name we should give the lake. There were many names suggested, but Mysterious Lake and Deep Blue Lake were most favorably received, and on a vote. Deep Blue Lake was chosen for a name. We secured a small stick about the size of a walking cane, and with a knifo made a slit in one end, a piece of paper was torn from a memorandum book, our names written on it, the paper stuck in the slit, and the stick propped up In the ground to the best of our ability. We then reluctantly turned our backs upon the future Crater Lake of Oregon. The finding of Crater Lake was an accident, as we were not looking for lakes, but the fact of my being first upon its bank3 was due to the fact that I was riding the best saddle mule in Southern Oregon, the property of Jimmy Dobson, a miner and packer, with headquarters at Jack sonville, who had furnished me the mule In consideration of a claim to be taken In his name should we be successful. Stranger to me than our discovery was the fact that after our return I could get no acknowledgment from any Indian, buck or squaw, old or young, that any such lake existed; each and every one denied any knowledge of It, or ignored the subject completely. A few months after our return, war broke out between whites and Indians, and In September of the same year I was shot while in camp on Evans Creek, where several Callfornlans were killed, among them being old "Grizzly," a well known California fighter when volun teers were called for. And while on the subject of Indian wars, I would like to know If the particulars of the siege of Gallce Creek were ever published, and has the story of the killing of Mrs. Wag oner and her . child, and the noble defense of Mrs. Harris in protecting herself and child, after the killing of her husband, ever found Its way Into print? A nobler, pluckier defense was never recorded, and if Oregon ever has a "Hall of Fame," then the name of Mrs. Harris should find an honored place therein. J. W. HILLMAN. PROTEST AGAINST. MODERN COMIC OPERA An Old-Fashioned Woman's Comment on the Costuming. . BOSTON lady, writing to a friend In m Portland, among other things, told of seeing a new comic opera, and she made this comment, which Is well worth reading: "Peggy from Paris" Is a comic opera, bright and witty, and pretty in costumes and scenes, light and glitter. You know. I am an old-fashioned woman, and I never entirely like these spectacles where half of the women are clad In picturesque cos tume as men, and in the marching and changing scenes, are thrown Into posi tions that show their shapes to a pro miscuous audience. Although sklrt-danc-Ing and high kicking are very pretty and graceful. I do not like them. I never can get rid of the thought that these, are real girls of the present day, and I feel sorry that In earning their own living they have to do what, as it seems to me. Is not good for them, and possibly not good for others. I find that It disturbs me more than the old-fashioned ballet dancing used to. I don't say that tills feel ing does not show "my limitations," but I hate to see an actress do what I would be sorry to have my own sister do.. I don't think that the dress Is any more ob jectionable than the excessive low dress ing of some women In society, but there Is something about this constant display In a spectacle of jl woman's figure en cased in tights thatSls distasteful to me. However, as long as the conversation and songs are not coarse and Indecent, I swal low my inclination to protest and say nothing.