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Within three miles of the city, and reached by street cars, is the principal station in the North Pacific of the British navy, at Esquimault Bay. This is one of the most picturesque harbors in the world, and a beginning is made of fortifications upon a very large scale and of the most modern character. This station, in many respects, is the most interesting place on the Pacific coast of Canada.

Leaving Victoria, the steamer makes its way cautiously through the sinuous channels of the harbor into the waters of Fuca Strait, but this is soon left behind and the steamer turns this way, and that, at the entrance to the Gulf of Georgia, among those islands through which runs the international boundary line, and for the possession of which England and the United States nearly went to war in 1862. The water at first is pale and somewhat opaque, for it is the current of the great Fraser gliding far out upon the surface, and the steamer passes on beyond it into the darker, clearer, salter waters of the gulf. Then the prow is headed to Vancouver, where the mails, freight and new railway passengers are received.

From Vancouver the steamer crosses to Nanaimo, a large settlement on Vancouver Island, where coal mines of great importance exist. A railway now connects this point with Victoria, and a wagon road crosses the interior of the island to Alberni Canal and the seaport at its entrance on Barclay Sound. This is the farthest northern telegraph point. The mines at Nanaimo were exhausted some time ago, after which deep excavations were made on Newcastle Island, just opposite the town. But after a tremendous fire these also were abandoned, and all the workings are now on the shores of Departure Bay, where a colliery village named Wellington has been built up. A steam ferry connects Nanaimo with Wellington; and while the steamer takes in its coal, the passengers disperse in one or the other village, go trout fishing, shooting or botanizing in the neighboring woods, or trade and chaffer with the Indians. Nanaimo has anything but the appearance of a mining town. The houses do not stretch out in the squalid, soot-covered rows familiar to Pennsylvania, but are scattered picturesquely, and surrounded by gardens.

Just ahead lie the splendid hills of Texada Island, whose iron mines yield ore of extraordinary purity, which is largely shipped to the United States to be made into steel. The steamer keeps to the left, making its way through Bayne's Sound, passing Cape Lazaro on the left and the upper end of Texada on the right, across the broadening water along the Vancouver shore into Seymour Narrows. These narrows are only about 900 yards wide, and in them there is an incessant turmoil and bubbling of currents. This is caused by the collision of the streams which takes place here; the flood stream from the south, through the Strait of Fuca and up the Haro Archipelago being met by that from Queen Charlotte Sound and Johnstone straits. These straits are about 140 miles long, and by the time their full length is passed, and the maze of small islands on the right and Vancouver's bulwark on the left are escaped together, the open Pacific shows itself for an hour or two in the offing of Queen Charlotte's Sound, and the steamer rises and falls gently upon long, lazy rollers that have swept all the way from China and Polynesia. Otherwise the whole voyage is in sheltered waters, and seasickness is impossible. The steamer's course now hugs the shore, turning into Fitz Hugh Sound, among Calvert, Hunter's and Bardswell islands, where the ship's spars sometimes brush the overhanging trees. Here are the entrances to Burke Channel and Dean's Canal that penetrate far amid the tremendous cliffs of the mainland mountains. Beyond these the steamer dashes across the open bight of Milbank Sound only to enter the long passages behind Princess Royal, Pit and Packer islands, and coming out at last into Dixon Sound at the extremity of British Columbia's ragged coast line.

The fogs which prevail here are due to the fact that this bight is filled with the waters of the warm Japanese current and the gulf stream of the Pacific from which the warm moisture rises to be condensed by the cool air that descends from the neighboring mountains, into the dense fogs and heavy rain storms to which the littoral forest owes its extraordinary luxuriance. During the mid-summer and early autumn, however, the temperature of air and water become so nearly equable that fog and rain are the exception rather than the rule.

Crossing the invisible boundary into Alaska the steamer heads straight toward Fort Tougass, on Wales Island, once a military station of the United States, but now only a fishing place. Between this point and Fort Wrangel another abandoned military post of the United States, two or three fish canneries and trading stations are visited and the ship goes on among innumerable islands and along wide reaches of sound to Taku Inlet , and a few hours later Juneau City is reached.

Juneau City has been lately called the key to the Klondike regions, as it is the point of departure for the numberless gold hunters who, when the season opens again, will rush blindly over incalculably rich ledges near the coast to that remote inland El Dorado of their dreams.

Juneau has for seventeen years been supported by the gold mines of the neighboring coast. It is situated ten miles above the entrance of Gastineau Channel, and lies at the base of precipitous mountains, its court house, hotels, churches, schools, hospital and opera house forming the nucleus for a population which in 1893 aggregated 1,500, a number very largely increased each winter by the miners who gather in from distant camps. The saloons, of which in 1871 there were already twenty-two, have increased proportionately, and there are, further, at least one weekly newspaper, one volunteer fire brigade, a militia company and a brass band in Juneau. The curio shops on Front and Seward streets are well worth visiting, and from the top of Seward Street a path leads up to the Auk village, whose people claim the flats at the mouth of Gold Creek. A curious cemetery may be seen on the high ground across the creek, ornamented with totemic carvings and hung with offerings to departed spirits which no white man dares disturb.

FROM JUNEAU TO THE GOLD FIELDS.

The few persons who formerly wished to go to the head of Lynn Canal did so mainly by canoeing, or chartered launches, but now many opportunities are offered by large steamboats. Most of the steamers that bring miners and prospectors from below do not now discharge their freight at Juneau, however, but go straight to the new port Dyea at the head of the canal. Lynn Canal is the grandest fiord on the coast, which it penetrates for seventy-five miles. It is then divided by a long peninsula called Seduction Point, into two prongs, the western of which is called Chilkat Inlet, and the eastern Chilkoot. "It has but few indentations, and the abrupt palisades of the mainland shores present an unrivalled panorama of mountains, glaciers and forests, with wonderful cloud effects. Depths of 430 fathoms have been sounded in the canal, and the continental range on the east and the White Mountains on the west rise to average heights of 6,000 feet, with glaciers in every ravine and alcove." No Cameron boundary line, which Canada would like to establish, would cut this fiord in two, and make it useless to both countries in case of quarrel. The magnificent fan-shaped Davidson glacier, here, is only one among hundreds of grand ice rivers shedding their bergs into its waters. At various points salmon canneries have long been in operation; and the Seward City mines are only the best among several mineral locations of promise. A glance at the map will show that this "canal" forms a straight continuation of Chatham Strait, making a north and south passage nearly four hundred miles in length, which is undoubtedly the trough of a departed glacier.

Dyea, the new steamer landing and sub-port of entry, is at the head of navigation on the Chilkoot or eastern branch of this Lynn Canal, and takes its name, in bad modern spelling, from the long-known Taiya Inlet, which is a prolongation inland for twenty miles of the head of the Chilkoot Inlet. It should continue to be spelled Tiaya. This inlet is far the better of the two for shipping, Chilkat Inlet being exposed to the prevalent and often dangerous south wind, so that it is regarded by navigators as one of the most dangerous points on the Alaskan coast. A Presbyterian mission and government school were formerly sustained at Haines, on Seduction Point, but were abandoned some years ago on account of Indian hostility.

The Passes.--Three passes over the mountains are reached from these two inlets,--Chilkat, Chilkoot and White.

Chilkat Pass is that longest known and formerly most in vogue. The Chilkat Indians had several fixed villages near the head of the inlet, and were accustomed to go back and forth over the mountains to trade with the interior Indians, whom they would not allow to come to the coast. They thus enjoyed not only the monopoly of the business of carrying supplies over to the Yukon trading posts and bringing out the furs, and more recently of assisting the miners, but made huge profits as middle-men between the Indians of the interior and the trading posts on the coast. They are a sturdy race of mountaineers, and the most arrogant, treacherous and turbulent of all the northwestern tribes, but their day is nearly passed. The early explorers--Krause, Everette and others--took this pass, and it was here that E. J. Glave first tried to take pack horses across the mountains, and succeeded so well as to show the feasibility of that method of carriage, which put a check upon the extortion and faithlessness of the Indian carriers. His account of his adventures in making this experiment, over bogs, wild rocky heights, snow fields, swift rivers and forest barriers, has been detailed in The Century Magazine for 1892, and should be read by all interested. "No matter how important your mission," Mr. Glave wrote, "your Indian carriers, though they have duly contracted to accompany you, will delay your departure till it suits their convenience, and any exhibition of impatience on your part will only remind them of your utter dependency on them; and then intrigue for increase of pay will at once begin. While en route they will prolong the journey by camping on the trail for two or three weeks, tempted by good hunting or fishing. In a land where the open season is so short, and the ways are so long, such delay is a tremendous drawback. Often the Indians will carry their loads some part of the way agreed on, then demand an extravagant increase of pay or a goodly share of the white man's stores, and, failing to get either, will fling down their packs and return to their village, leaving their white employer helplessly stranded."

The usual charge for Indian carriers is a day and board, and they demand the best fare and a great deal of it, so that the white man finds his precious stores largely wasted before reaching his destination. These facts are mentioned, not because it is now necessary to endure this extortion and expense, but to show how little dependence can be placed upon the hope of securing the aid of Indian packers in carrying the goods of prospectors or explorers elsewhere in the interior, and the great expense involved. This pass descends to a series of connected lakes leading down to Lake Labarge and thence by another stream to the Lewes; and it requires twelve days of pack-carrying--far more than is necessary on the other passes. As a consequence, this pass is now rarely used except by Indians going to the Aksekh river and the coast ranges northward.

Chilkoot, Taiya or Parrier Pass.--This is the pass that has been used since 1885 by the miners and others on the upper Yukon, and is still a route of travel. It starts from the head of canoe navigation on Taiya inlet, and follows up a stream valley, gradually leading to the divide, which is only 3,500 feet above the sea. The first day's march is to the foot of the ascent, and over a terrible trail, through heavy woods and along a steep, rocky and often boggy hillside, broken by several deep gullies. The ascent is then very abrupt and over huge masses of fallen rock or steep slippery surfaces of rock in place. At the actual summit, which for seven or eight miles is bare of trees or bushes, the trail leads through a narrow rocky gap, and the whole scene is one of the most complete desolation. Naked granite rocks, rising steeply to partly snow-clad mountains on either side. Descending the inland or north slope is equally bad traveling, largely over wide areas of shattered rocks where the trail may easily be lost. The further valley contains several little lakes and leads roughly down to Lake Lindeman. The distance from Taiya is twenty-three and a half miles, and it is usually made in two days. Miners sometimes cross this pass in April, choosing fine weather, and then continue down the lakes on the ice to some point where they can conveniently camp and wait for the opening of navigation on the Yukon; ordinarily it is unsafe to attempt a return in the autumn later than the first of October.

Lake Lindeman is a long narrow piece of water navigable for boats to its foot, where a very bad river passage leads into the larger Lake Bennett, where the navigation of the Yukon really begins.

"The Chilkoot Pass," writes one of its latest travelers, "is difficult, even dangerous, to those not possessed of steady nerves. Toward the summit there is a sheer ascent of 1,000 feet, where a slip would certainly be fatal. At this point a dense mist overtook us, but we reached Lake Lindeman--the first of a series of five lakes--in safety, after a fatiguing tramp of fourteen consecutive hours through half-melted snow. Here we had to build our own boat, first felling the timber for the purpose. The journey down the lakes occupied ten days, four of which were passed in camp on Lake Bennett, during a violent storm, which raised a heavy sea. The rapids followed. One of these latter, the "Grand Canyon," is a mile long, and dashes through walls of rock from 50 to 100 feet high; six miles below are the "White Horse Rapids," a name which many fatal accidents have converted into the "Miner's Grave." But snags and rocks are everywhere a fruitful source of danger on this river, and from this rapid downward scarcely a day passed that one did not see some cairn or wooden cross marking the last resting place of some drowned pilgrim to the land of gold. The above is a brief sketch of the troubles that beset the Alaskan gold prospector--troubles that, although unknown in the eastern states and Canada, have for many years past associated the name of Yukon with an ugly sound in western America."

It is probable that few if any persons need go over this pass next year, and its hardships will become a tradition instead of a terrible prospect.

White Pass.--This pass lies south of the Chilkoot, and leaves the coast at the mouth of the Shagway river, five miles south of Dyea and 100 from Juneau. It was first explored in 1887 and was found to run parallel to the Chilkoot. The distance from the coast to the summit is seventeen miles, of which the first five are in level bottom land, thickly timbered. The next nine miles are in a ca?on-like valley, beyond which three miles, comparatively easy, take one to the summit, the altitude of which is roughly estimated at 2,600 feet. Beyond the summit a wide valley is entered and leads gradually to the Tahko arm of Tahgish lake. This pass, though requiring a longer carriage, is lower and easier than the others, and already a pack-trail has been built through it which will soon be followed by a wagon road, and surveys for a narrow gauge railway are in progress. At the mouth of the Shkagway River ocean steamers can run up at all times to a wharf which has been constructed in a sheltered position, and there is an excellent town site with protection from storms.

Dyea is a village of cabins and tents, and little if anything in the way of supplies can be got there; it is a mere forwarding point.

Pending the completion of the facilities mentioned above, miners may transport their goods over the pack trail on their own or hired burros, and at Tahgish Lake take a boat down the Tahco arm to the main lake, and down that lake and its outlet into Lake Marsh. This chain of lakes, filling the troughs of old glacial fiords to a level of 2,150 feet above the sea, "constitutes a singularly picturesque region, abounding in striking points of view and in landscapes pleasing in their variety or grand and impressive in this combination of rugged mountain forms." All afford still-water navigation, and as soon as the road through White Pass permits the transportation of machinery, they will doubtless be well supplied with steamboats. Marsh Lake is 20 miles long, Bennett 26, and Tagish 16 1/2 miles, with Windy Arm 11 miles long, Tahko Arm 20 miles, and other long, narrow extensions among the terraced, evergreen-wooded hills that border its tranquil surface. The depression in which this group of lakes lies is between the coast range and the main range of the Rockies; and as it is sheltered from the wet sea-winds by the former heights, its climate is nearly as dry of that of the interior. The banks are fairly well timbered, though large open spaces exist, and abound in herbage, grass and edible berries. Lake Marsh, named by Schwatka after Prof. O. C. Marsh of Yale, but called Mud Lake by the miners, without good reason, is twenty miles long and about two wide. It is rather shallow and the left bank should be followed. The surrounding region is rather low, rising by terraces to high ranges on each side, where Michie mountain, 5,540 feet in height, eastward, and Mounts Lorue and Landsdowne, westward, 6,400 and 6,140 feet high respectively, are the most prominent peaks. "The diversified form of the mountains in view from this lake render it particularly picturesque," remarks Dr. Dawson, "and at the time of our visit, on the 10th and 11th of September, the autumn tints of the aspens and other deciduous trees and shrubs, mingled with the sombre greens of the spruces and pines, added to its beauty."

Near the foot of this lake enters the McClintock river, of which little is known. The outlet is a clear, narrow, quiet stream, called Fifty-mile River, which flows somewhat westerly down the great valley. Large numbers of dead and dying salmon are always seen here in summer, and as these fish never reach Lake Marsh, it is evident that the few who are able, after their long journey, to struggle up the rapids, have not strength left to survive.

The descent of the Lewes may be said to begin at this point, and 23 miles below Lake Marsh the first and most serious obstacle is encountered in the White Horse Rapids, and Miles Ca?on. Their length together is 2 3/4 miles, and they seem to have been caused by a small local effusion of lava, which was most unfortunately ejected right in the path of the river. The ca?on is often not more than 100 feet in width, and although parts of it may be run at favorable times, all of it is dangerous, and the White Horse should never be attempted. The portage path in the upper part of the ca?on is on the east bank, and is about five-eighths of a mile long. There a stretch of navigation is possible, with caution, ending at the head of White Horse Rapids, where one must land on the west bank, which consists of steep rocks, very awkward for managing a boat from or carrying a burden over. Usually the empty boat can be dropped down with a line, but when the water is high boat as well as cargo must be carried for 100 yards or more, and again, lower down, for a less distance. The miners have put down rollways along a roughly constructed road here to make the portage of the boats easier, and some windlasses for hauling the boats along the water or out and into it. It would be possible to build a good road or tramway along the east bank of these rapids without great difficulty; and plans are already formulated for a railway to be built around the whole three miles of obstruction, in the summer of 1898, to connect with the steamboats above and below that will no doubt be running next year.

The river below the rapids is fast for a few miles, and many gravel banks appear. It gradually subsides, however, into a quiet stream flowing northwest along the same wide valley. No rock is seen here, the banks being bluffs of white silt, which turns the clear blue of the current above into a cloudy and opaque yellow. Thirteen miles brings the voyager to the mouth of the Tah-Keena, a turbid stream about 75 yards wide and 10 feet deep, which comes in from the west. Its sources are at the foot of the Chilkat Pass, where it flows out of West Kussoa lake , and was formerly much employed by the Chilkat Indians as a means of reaching the interior, but was never in favor with the miners, and is now rarely followed by the Indians themselves, although its navigation from the lake down is reported to be easy.

Eleven and a half miles of quiet boating takes one to the head of Lake Labarge. This lake is 31 miles long, lies nearly north and south, and is irregularly elongated, reaching a width of six miles near the lower end. It is 2,100 feet above sea level and is bordered everywhere by mountains, those on the south having remarkably abrupt and castellated forms and carrying summits of white limestone. This lake is a very stormy one, and travelers often have to wait in camp for several days on its shores until calmer weather permits them to go on. This whole river valley is a great trough sucking inland the prevailing southerly summer winds, and navigation on all the lakes is likely to be rough for small boats.

The river below Lake Labarge is crooked, and at first rapid--six miles or more an hour, and interrupted by boulders; but it is believed that a stern wheel steamer of proper power could ascend at all times. The banks are earthen, but little worn, as floods do not seem to occur. Twenty-seven miles takes one to the mouth of a large tributary from the southeast,--the Teslintoo, which Schwatka called Newberry River, and which the miners mistakenly call Hotalinqu. It comes from the great Lake Teslin, which lies across the British Columbia boundary , and is said to be 100 miles long; and it is further said that an Indian trail connects it with the head of canoe navigation on the Taku river, by only two long days of portaging. Some miners are said to have gone over it in 1876 or '77, Schwatka and Hayes came this way; and it may form one of the routes of the future,--perhaps even a railway route. This river flows through a wide and somewhat arid valley, and was roughly prospected about 1887 by men who reported finding fine gold all along its course, and also in tributaries of the lake. As the mountains about the head of the lake belong to the Cassiar range, upon whose southern slopes the Cassiar mines are situated, there is every reason to suppose that gold will ultimately be found there in paying quantities.

This part of the Lewes is called Thirty-mile River, under the impression that it is really a tributary of the Teslintoo, which is, in fact, wider than the Lewes at the junction , but it carries far less water. From this confluence the course is north, in a deep, swift, somewhat turbid current, through the crooked defiles of the Seminow hills. Several auriferous bars have been worked here, and some shore-placers, including the rich Cassiar bar. Thirty-one miles below the Teslintoo the Big Salmon, or D'Abbadie River, enters from the southeast--an important river, 350 feet wide, having clear blue water flowing deep and quiet in a stream navigable by steamboats for many miles. Its head is about 150 miles away, not far from Teslin Lake, in some small lakes reached by the salmon, and surrounded by granite mountains. Prospectors have traced all its course and found fine gold in many places.

Thirty-four miles below the Big Salmon, west-north-west, along a comparatively straight course, carries the boatman to the Little Salmon, or Daly River, where the valley is so broad that no mountains are anywhere in sight, only lines of low hills at a distance from the banks. Five miles below this river the river makes an abrupt turn to the southwest around Eagle's Nest rock, and 18 1/2 miles beyond that reaches the Nordenskiold, a small, swift, clear-watered tributary from the southwest. The rocks of all this part of the river show thin seams of coal, and gold has been found on several bars. The current now flows nearly due north and a dozen miles below the Nordenskiold carries one to the second and last serious obstruction to navigation in the Rink rapids, as Schwatka called them, or Five-finger, as they are popularly known, referring to five large masses of rock that stand like towers in mid channel. These other islands back up the water and render its currents strong and turbulent, but will offer little opposition to a good steamboat. Boatmen descending the river are advised to hug the right bank, and a landing should be made twenty yards above the rapids in any eddy, where a heavily loaded boats should be lightened. The run should be made close along the shore, and all bad water ends when the Little Rink Rapids have been passed, six miles below. Just below the rapids the small Tatshun River comes in from the right. Then the valley broadens out, the current quiets down and a pleasing landscape greets the eye as bend after bend is turned. A long washed bank on the northeast side is called Hoo-che-koo Bluff, and soon after passing it one finds himself in the midst of the pretty Ingersoll archipelago, where the river widens out and wanders among hundreds of islets. Fifty-five miles by the river below Rink Rapids, the confluence of the Lewes and Pelly is reached, and the first sign of civilization in the ruins of old Fort Selkirk, with such recent and probably temporary occupation as circumstances may cause. Before long, undoubtedly, a flourishing permanent settlement will grow up in this favorable situation.

The confluence here of the Lewes and Pelly rivers forms the Yukon, which thenceforth pursues an uninterrupted course of 1,650 miles to Behring Sea. The country about the confluence is low, with extensive terrace flats running back to the bases of rounded hills and ridges. The Yukon below the junction averages about one-quarter of a mile in width, and has an average depth of about 10 feet, with a surface velocity of 4 3/4 miles an hour. A good many gravel bars occur, but no shifting sand. The general course nearly to White River, 96 miles, is a little north of west, and many islands are seen; then the river turns to a nearly due north course, maintained at Fort Reliance. The White River is a powerful stream, plunging down loaded with silt, over ever shifting sand bars. Its upper source is problematical, but is probably in the Alaskan Mountains near the head of the Tenana and Forty-mile Creek.

For the next ten miles the river spreads out to more than a mile wide and becomes a maze of islands and bars, the main channel being along the western shore, where there is plenty of water. This brings one to Stewart river, which is the most important right-hand tributary between the Pelly and the Porcupine. It enters from the east in the middle of a wide valley, and half a mile above its mouth is 200 yards in width; the current is slow and the water dark colored. It has been followed to its headquarters in the main range of the Rockies, and several large branches, on some of which there are remarkable falls, have been traced to their sources through the forested and snowy hills where they rise. These sources are perhaps 200 miles from the mouth, but as none of the wanderers were equipped with either geographical knowledge or instruments nothing definite is known. Reports of traces of precious metals have been brought back from many points in the Stewart valley, but this information is as vague as the other thus far. All reports agree that a light draught steamboat could go to the head of the Stewart and bar up its feeders. There is a trading post at its mouth.

The succeeding 125 miles holds what is at present the most interesting and populous part of the Yukon valley. The river varies from half to three-quarters of a mile wide and is full of islands. About 23 miles below Stewart River a large stream enters from the west called Sixty-mile Creek by the miners, who have had a small winter camp and trading store there for some years, and have explored its course for gold to its rise in the mountains west of the international boundary. Every little tributary has been named, among them , Charley's Fork, Edwards Creek and Hawley Creek, in Canada, and then, on the American side of the line, Gold Creek, Miller Creek and Bed Rock Creek. The sand and gravel of all these have yielded fine gold and some of them, as Miller Creek, have become noted for their richness. Forty-four miles below Sixty-mile takes one to Dawson City, at the mouth of Klondike River,--the center of the highest productiveness and greatest excitement during 1897, when the gold fields of the interior of Alaska first attracted the attention of the world. Leaving to another special chapter an account of them, the itinerary may be completed by saying that 6 1/2 miles below the mouth of the Klondike is Fort Reliance, an old private trading post of no present importance. Twelve and a half miles farther the Chan-din-du River enters from the east, and 33 1/2 below that in the mouth of Forty-mile Creek, or Cone Hill River, which until the past year was the most important mining region of the interior. It took its name from the supposition that it was 40 miles from Fort Reliance, but the true distance is 46 miles. On the south side of the outlet of this stream is the old trading post and modern town of Forty-Mile, and on the north side the more recent settlement Cudahy. Both towns are, of course, on the western bank of the Yukon, which is here about half a mile wide. Five miles below Cudahy, Coal Creek comes in from the east, and nearly marks the Alaskan boundary, where a narrowed part of the river admits one to United States territory. Prominent landmarks here are two great rocks, named by old timers Old Man rock, on the west bank, and Old Woman, on the east bank, in reference to Indian legends attached to them. Some twenty miles west of the boundary--the river now having turned nearly due west in its general course--Seventy-mile, or Klevande Creek, comes in from the south, and somewhat below it the Tat-on-duc from the north. It was ascended in 1887 by Mr. Ogilvie, who describes its lower valley as broad and well timbered, but its upper part flows through a series of magnificent ca?ons, one of which half a mile long, is not more than 50 feet wide with vertical walls fully 700 feet in height. There are said to be warm sulphur springs along its course, and the Indians regard it as one of the best hunting fields, sheep being especially numerous on the mountains in which it heads, close by the international boundary, where it is separated by only a narrow divide from Ogilvie River, one of the head streams of the Peel river, and also from the head of the Porcupine, to which there is an Indian trail. Hence the miners call this Sheep River. The rocks along this stream are all sandstones, limestone and conglomerates, with many thin calcite veins. Large and dense timber prevails, and game is abundant.

Below the mouth of the Tat-on-duc several small streams enter, of which the Kandik on the north and the Kolto or Charley's River--at the mouth of which there used to be the home of an old Indian notability named Charley--are most important. About 160 miles from the boundary the Yukon flats are reached, and the center of another important mining district--that of Birch Creek and the Upper Tenana--at Circle City, the usual terminus of the trip up the Lower Yukon from St. Michael.

HISTORY AND CHARACTERISTICS OF THE UPPER YUKON VALLEY.

The sources of the Yukon are just within the northern boundary of British Columbia among a mass of mountains forming a part of the great uplift of the Coast range, continuous with the Sierras of California and the Puget Sound coast. Here spring the sources of the Stikeen, flowing southwest to the Pacific, of the Fraser, flowing south through British Columbia, and of the Liard flowing northeasterly to the Mackenzie. Headwaters of the Stikeen and Liard interlock, indeed, along an extensive or sinuous watershed having an elevation of 3,000 feet or less and extending east and west. There are, however, many wide and comparatively level bottom lands scattered throughout this region and numerous lakes. The coast ranges here have an average width of about eighty miles and border the continent as far north as Lynn Canal, where they trend inland behind the St. Elias Alps. Many of their peaks exceed 8,000 feet in height, but few districts have been explored west. Eastward of this mountain axis, and separated from it by the valleys of the Fraser and Columbia in the south and the Yukon northward, is the Continental Divide, or Rocky Mountains proper, which is broken through by the Laird, but north of that ca?on-bound river forms the watershed between the Liard and Yukon and between the Yukon and Mackenzie. These summits attain a height of 7,000 to 9,000 feet, and rise from a very complicated series of ranges extending northward to the Arctic Ocean, and very little explored. The valley of the Yukon, then, lies between the Rocky Mountains, separating its drainage basin from that of the Mackenzie, and the Coast range and St. Elias Alps separating it from the sea. Granite is the principal rock in both these great lines of watershed-uplift, and all the mountains show the effects of an extensive glaciation, and all the higher peaks still bear local remnants of the ancient ice-sheet.

The headwaters of the great river are gathered into three principal streams. First, the Lewes, easternmost, with its large tributaries, the Teslintoo and Big Salmon; second, the Pelly, with its great western tributary, the MacMillon.

Turning now to the Pelly, we find that this was the earliest avenue of discovery. The Pelly rises in lakes under the 62nd parallel, just over a divide from the Finlayson and Frances Lake, the head of the Frances River, the northern source of the Liard, and this region was entered by the Hudson Bay Company as early as 1834, and gradually exploring the Laird River and its tributaries, in 1840 Robert Campbell crossed over the divide north of Lake Finlayson , and discovered a large river flowing northwest which he named Pelly. In 1843 he descended the river to its confluence with the Lewes , and in 1848 he built a post for the H. B. Company at that point, calling it Fort Selkirk. This done, in 1850, Campbell floated down the river as far as the mouth of the Porcupine, where three years previously Fort Yukon had been established by Mr. Murray, who crossed over from the mouth of the Mackenzie. The Yukon may thus be said to have been "discovered" at several points independently. The Russians, who knew it only at the mouth, called it Kwikhpak, after an Eskimo name. The English at Fort Yukon, learned that name from the Indians there, and the upper river was the Pelly. The English and Russian traders soon met, and when Campbell came down in 1850 the identity of the whole stream was established. The name Yukon gradually took the place of all others on English maps and is now recognized for the whole stream from the junction of the Lewes and Pelly to the delta.

The Yukon basin, east of the Alaskan boundary, is known in Canada as the Yukon district, and contains about 150,000 square miles. This is nearly equal to the area of France, is greater than that of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland by 71,000 square miles, and nearly three times bigger than that of the New England states. To this must be added an area of about 180,000 square miles, west of the boundary, drained by the Yukon upon its way to the sea through Alaska. Nevertheless, Dr. G. M. Dawson and other students of the matter are of the opinion that the river does not discharge as much water as does the Mackenzie--nor could it be expected to do so, since the drainage area of the Mackenzie is more than double that of the Yukon, while the average annual precipitation of rain over the two areas seems to be substantially similar. Remembering these figures and that the basin of the Mississippi has no less than 1,225,000 square miles as compared with the 330,000 square miles of the Yukon basin, it is plain that the statement often heard that the Yukon is next to the Mississippi in size, is greatly exaggerated. In fact, its proportions, from all points of view, are exceeded by those of the Nile, Ganges, St. Lawrence and several other rivers of considerably less importance than the Mississippi.

Resuming the historical outline, a short paragraph will suffice to complete the simple story down to the year 1896.

Robert Campbell had scarcely returned from his river voyage to his duties at Fort Selkirk, when he discovered that its location in the angle between the rivers was untenable, owing to ice-jams and floods. The station was therefore moved, in the season of 1852 across to the west bank of the Yukon, a short distance below the confluence, and new buildings were erected. These had scarcely been completed, when, on August 1st, a band of Chilkat Indians from the coast came down the river and early in the morning seized upon the post, surprising Mr. Campbell in bed, and ordered him to take his departure before night. They were not at all rough with him or his few men, but simply insisted that they depart, which they did, taking such personal luggage as they could put into a boat and starting down stream. The Indians then pillaged the place, and after feasting on all they could eat and appropriating what they could carry away, set fire to the remainder and burned the whole place to the ground. One chimney still stands to mark the spot, and others lie where they fell. This act was not dictated by wanton destructiveness on the part of the Chilkats--bad as they undoubtedly were and are; but was in pursuance of a theory. The establishment of the post there interfered with the monopoly of trade that they had enjoyed theretofore, with all the Indians of the interior, to whom they brought salable goods from the coast, taking in exchange furs, copper, etc., at an exorbitant profit, which they enforced by their superior brutality. The Hudson Bay Company was robbing them of this, hence the demolition of the post, which was too remote to be profitably sustained against such opposition.

A little way down the river, Mr. Campbell met a fleet of boats bringing up his season's goods, and many friendly Indians. These were eager to pursue the robbers, but Campbell thought it best not to do so. He turned the supply-boats back to Fort Yukon and led his own men up the Pelly and over the pass to the Frances and so down the Liard to Fort Simpson, on the Mackenzie. Such is the story of the ruins of Fort Selkirk. Fort Yukon flourished as the only trading post until the purchase of Alaska by the United States, when Captain Raymond, an army officer, was sent to inform the factor there that his post was on United States territory, and require him to leave. He did so as soon as Rampart House could be built to take its place up the Porcupine. Old Fort Yukon then fell into ruins, and Rampart House itself was soon abandoned. In 1873 an opposition appeared in the independent trading house of Harper & McQuestion, men who had come into the country from the south, after long experience in the fur trade. They had posts at various points, occupied Fort Reliance for several years, and in 1886 established a post at the mouth of the Stewart River for the miners who had begun to gather there two years before. Many maps mark "Reed's House" as a point on the upper Stewart, but no such a trading-post ever existed there, although there was a fishing station and shelter-hut on one of its upper branches at an early day. This firm became the representatives of the Alaska Commercial Company and opened a store in 1887 at Forty Mile, where they still do business.

Prospecting went on unremittingly, but nothing else was found of promise until 1886, when coarse gold was reported upon Forty Mile Creek, or the Shitando River, as it was known to the Indians, and a local rush took place to its ca?ons, the principal attraction being Franklin Gulch, named after its discoverer. Three or four hundred men gathered there by the season of 1887, and all did well. This stream is a "bed-rock" creek,--that is, one in the bed of which there is very little drift; and in many places the bed-rock was scraped with knives to get the little loose stuff out of crannies. Some nuggets were found. At its mouth are extensive bars along the Yukon, which carry gold throughout their depth. During 1888 the season was very unfavorable and not much accomplished. Sixty Mile Creek was brought to notice, and Miller Gulch proved richer than usual. It is one of the headwaters of Sixty Mile, and some 70 miles from the mouth of the river where, in 1892, a trading store, saw-mill and little wintering-town was begun. Miller Creek is about 7 miles long, and its valley is filled with vast deposits of auriferous drift. In 1892 rich strikes were made and 125 miners gathered there, paying a day for help, and many making fortunes. One clean-up of 1,100 ounces was reported. Glacier Creek, a neighboring stream, exhibited equal chances and drew many claimants, some of whom migrated thither in mid-winter, drawing their sleds through the woods and rocks with the mercury 30 degrees below zero. All of these gulches and other golden headwaters on both Forty Mile and Sixty Mile Creek, are west of the boundary in Alaska; but the mouths of the main streams and supply points are in Canadian territory. In all, the great obstacle is the difficulty of getting water up on the bars without expensive machinery; and the same is true of the rich gravel along the banks of the Yukon itself. Birch Creek was the next find of importance, and was promising enough to draw the larger part of the local population, which by this time had been considerably increased, for the news of the richness of the Forty Mile gulches had reached the outside world and attracted adventurous men and not a few women from the coast not only, but from British Columbia and the United States. A rival to Harper & McQuestion, agents of the Alaska Commercial Company, appeared in the North American Transportation and Trading Company, which increased the transportation service on the Yukon River, by which most of the new arrivals entered, and by establishing large competitive stores at Fort Cudahy and elsewhere reduced the price of food and other necessaries. About this time, also, the Canadian government sent law officers and a detachment of mounted police, so that the Yukon District began to take a recognized place in the world.

Birch Creek is really a large river rising in the Iauana Hills, just west of the boundary and flowing northwest, parallel with the Yukon, to a debouchment some 20 miles west of Fort Yukon. Between the two rivers lie the "Yukon Flats," and at one point they are separated by only six miles. Here, at the Yukon end of the road arose Circle City, so-called from its proximity to the Arctic Circle. This is an orderly little town of regular streets, and has a recorder of claims, a store, etc.

Birch Creek has been thoroughly explored, and in 1894 yielded good results. The gold was in coarse flakes and nuggets, so that a day was made by some men, while all did well. The drift is not as deep here as in most other streams, and water can be applied more easily and copiously,--a vast advantage. Molymute, Crooked, Independence, Mastadon and Preacher creeks are the most noteworthy tributaries of this rich field.

The Koyukuk River, which flows from the borders of the Arctic Ocean, gathering many mountain tributaries, to enter the Yukon at Nulato, was also prospected in 1892, '93 and '94, and indications of good placers have been discovered there, but the northerly, exposed and remote situation has caused them to receive little attention thus far.

THE KLONDIKE.

During the autumn of 1896 several men and women, none of whom were "old miners," discouraged by poor results lower down the river resolved to try prospecting in the Klondike gulch. They were laughed at and argued with; were told that prospectors years ago had been all over that valley, and found only the despised "flour gold," which was too fine to pay for washing it out. Nevertheless they persisted and went at work. Only a short time elapsed, when, on one of the lower southside branches of the stream they found pockets of flakes and nuggets of gold far richer than anything Alaska had ever shown before. They named the stream Bonanza, and a small tributary El Dorado. Others came and nearly everyone succeeded. Before spring nearly a ton and a half of gold had been taken from the frozen ground. Nuggets weighing a pound were found. A thousand dollars a day was sometimes saved despite the rudeness of the methods, but these things happened where pockets were struck. Probably the total clean-up from January to June was not less than ,500,000. The report spread and all those in the interior of Alaska concentrated there, where a "camp" of tents and shanties soon sprang up at the mouth of the Klondike called Dawson City. A correspondent of the New York Sun describes it as beautifully situated, and a very quiet, orderly town, due to the strict supervision of the Canadian mounted police, who allowed no pistols to be carried, but a great place for gambling with high stakes. It bids fair to become the mining metropolis of the northwest, and had about 3,000 inhabitants before the advance-guard of the present "rush" reached there.

Hundreds of claims were staked out and worked in all the little gulches opening along Bonanza, Eldorado, Hunker, Bear and other tributaries of the Klondike, and of Indian River, a stream thirty miles south of it, and a greater number seem to be of equal richness with those first worked. All this is within a radius south and east of 20 miles from Dawson City, and most of it far nearer. The country is rough, wooded hills, and the same trouble as to water is met there as elsewhere, yet riches were obtained by many men in a few weeks without exhausting their claims.

So remote and shut in has this region been in the winter that no word of this leaked out until the river opened and a party of successful miners came down to the coast and took passage on the steamer Excelsior for San Francisco. They arrived on July 14, and no one suspected that there was anything extraordinary in the passenger list or cargo, until a procession of weather beaten men began a march to the Selby Smelting works, and there began to open sacks of dust and nuggets, until the heap made something not seen in San Francisco since the days of '49. The news flashed over the world, and aroused a fire of interest; and when three days later the Portland came into Seattle, bringing other miners and over ,000,000 in gold, there was a rush to go north which bids fair to continue for months to come, for one of the articles of faith in the creed of the Yukon miner is that many other gulches will be found as rich as these. One elderly man, who went in late last fall and with partners took four claims on Eldorado Creek, told a reporter that his pickings had amounted to 2,000, and that he was confident that the ground left was worth ,000,000 more. "I want to say," he exclaims, "that I believe there is gold in every creek in Alaska. Certain on the Klondike the claims are not spotted. One seems to be as good as another. It's gold, gold, gold, all over. It's yards wide and deep. All you have to do is to run a hole down."

One might go on quoting such rhapsodies, arising from success, to end of the book, but it is needless, for every newspaper has been full of them for a month.

One man and his wife got 5,000; another, formerly a steamboat deck-hand, 0,000; another, 5,000; a score or more over ,000, and so on. These sums were savings after having the heavy expenses of the winter, and most of them had dug out only a small part of their ground.

It is curious in view of this success to read the only descriptive note the present writer can discover in early writings as to this gold river. It occurs in Ogilvie's report of his explorations of 1887, and is as follows: "Six and a half miles above Reliance the Tou-Dac River of the Indians enter from the east. It is a small river about 40 yards wide at the mouth and shallow; the water is clear and transparent and of a beautiful blue color. The Indians catch great numbers of salmon here. A miner had prospected up this river for an estimated distance of 40 miles in the season of 1887. I did not see him."

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