Pearl and Emma each took out a pot of sourdough bread from the small oven on the side of the stove and set them on the table. They had made six loaves, one for them, and the remaining for Paul and some other men who lived in the tents.
It wasn’t much but they were making a small profit. They were also discussing baking pies or cakes for sale. However, they would need to stock up on flour and salt before then.
Pearl sat down at the table and tried to block out the noise as she continued to write about her life in her new home. She wasn’t sure if it would be an article for the newspaper or just for her own enjoyment in the future.
She hadn’t realized how much she’d liked the quiet of the area until the sawmill had begun operation. Now, because of the demand, Joseph had hired men to help him and he was running it all day and well into the night. He’d begun construction on the first building in his town, a warehouse on Front Street. Then he wanted to build a cabin for himself. And there was a long list of men wanting lumber for their own projects.
There was a cough outside their tent. It must be one of the men for his loaf of bread. Emma pushed the flap open.
“Good morning, Paul,” Emma said.
Pearl turned towards the front of the tent and saw Paul standing in the doorway. She wondered if something was wrong.
“I’m on my way to Fortymile to buy some supplies and I was wondering if you need anything.”
“Oh, yes,” Emma said. “I’ll quickly write a list if you have time to wait.”
“I’ll wait out here.”
Pearl reached under the table and pulled out three envelopes, one large and two small. She carried them and some money for stamps outside to Paul. “Would you be able to get these envelopes in the mail on the boat?”
“Your articles?”
“Yes, and illustrations. And letters to our families letting them know we’re okay. I’ve also asked my parents for more pencils, writing paper, and sketch pads to be sent in the spring.”
Emma stepped out with a list and more money. She handed them to Paul. “Thank you,” she said. “We were wondering how we were going to get more food and we need loaf pans and pie plates.”
“You’re going to make pies?” Paul’s face lit up.
“We’re thinking of it.”
“I will buy one, when you do.”
“You’ll be the first on our list of customers,” Emma smiled.
“I’ll be back with your supplies day after tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Pearl said. “This is very kind of you.”
Paul smiled shyly at her, touched his hat with his hand, and left.
Pearl and Emma stood in the doorway and watched him walk away.
“He would make good husband material,” Emma smiled mischievously at Pearl, as they stepped back in the tent. “I think he likes you.”
Pearl felt herself blushing. She had noticed his glances, but she wanted to explore her feelings for Joseph Ladue.
* * *
Donald picked up his full backpack and headed to the door. “I’ll be back in a week, longer if I have trouble.”
“I should be coming with you,” Sam said. “It will get done faster with two of us.”
“I still think one of us should stay here and keep an eye on Gordon,” Donald countered. “And with your little buddy, Gregory, stopping in all the time, we could return and find he has moved into our cabin.”
Sam laughed. “Okay. I’ll try and get the wood cut for the windlass while you are gone.”
Sam watched Donald leave. Between lighting fires and digging muck they had worked the gravel through their pans until the creek had begun to freeze. The gold they found had been enough to raise their hopes. This finally might be the big one. But Donald had more on his mind than finding gold and that was taking over his thoughts and actions. Sam just had to let him work it out.
After Donald left, Sam walked over to Gordon’s claim. He could see his breath in the cold air. Winter would be here soon. He and Donald took turns each day visiting Gordon. They kept him informed of how deep they had gone in their shaft, they invited him to meals, or they just talked. But Gordon didn’t seem interested in anything they had to say. He seldom answered, just grunted or ignored them.
Sam and Donald had tried to figure out when Gordon had started to change. They remembered a few times in the past two years when Gordon had acted out of character, wanting to stay in the cabin instead of going to the saloon, getting angry when it really wasn’t necessary, refusing to shave or even comb his hair. But these actions had come and gone, so neither Sam nor Donald had taken them seriously. Now they did, now when it seemed there was nothing they could do to help him.
Sam stopped a few steps from where Gordon had set up the tent. “Gordon? It’s me, Sam.” He waited, never knowing what to expect. Sometimes Gordon was friendly, sometimes he chased him away. Occasionally, Gordon wasn’t in the tent. He never told them where he went but they assumed he wandered the area much like Gregory.
“Go away.” Gordon growled.
“Donald has gone for a few days. I’m going to make some lunch and was wondering if you wanted to join me.”
There was no reply.
“I’m coming in.” Sam lifted the flap and waited until his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Gordon didn’t have a stove for heat, nor had he taken any candles for light. He was curled up in his bed on the ground. He hadn’t shaved in weeks and his hair was shaggy and dirty.
The pang of guilt Sam felt every time he saw Gordon jabbed him again. Maybe if he had let Gordon leave when he wanted, maybe if he hadn’t insisted they check out Henderson’s gold find, or maybe if he had bought Gordon’s claim so he could take the last boat out, Gordon would be home and happy now.
“The days are getting colder and snow will be coming soon,” Sam said. “You should move back in with us for the winter.”
“I’m fine here.”
Sam looked at the plate of beans Donald had delivered the day before. The food was only half eaten and frozen. He picked it up.
“Please come with me,” Sam pleaded.
Gordon turned his face away.
Sam left the tent and went back to the cabin. Along the way he scraped the food off the plate. He put more wood in the stove and stirred rehydrated potatoes and bacon in the frying pan for his noon meal. Some light came through the flour sack window and, combined with the fire in the stove, lit the cabin enough that he didn’t need a candle. That would change as soon as dusk arrived. He took the frying pan to the table and sat down. Since he was the only one there he decided to just eat out of the pan. No need to dirty a plate for nothing.
There was a timid knock at the door.
“Come in,” Sam called.
The door opened and Gregory peeked around the edge. “Hi,” he said, brightly. His eyes scanned the room.
“Hi,” Sam smiled. “Come in. Mr. Baker isn’t here.”
The boy entered and closed the door behind him. He took off his coat and hung it up on a peg by the door. Everyone kept on their boots.
“Do your parents know you are here?” Sam asked. For some reason Gregory had decided he liked Sam and had taken to visiting him every few days. Sam had set some rules, such as knocking on the door before entering, not touching something without permission, and making sure that Gregory had let his parents know he was coming. If he didn’t he would be sent back.
Gregory’s only rule was that he wouldn’t stay if Gordon was around.
“Yes,” Gregory said. He stared at the pan in Sam’s hand.
“Did you eat?”
Gregory shook his head.
“Are you sure?”
“Well, we had something, but not very much.”
“Do you want some potatoes and bacon?”
Gregory’s face brightened. He nodded.
Sam got a plate and scooped some food onto it. So much for not dirtying an extra dish. He pushed it in front of Gregory and gave him a fork. Sam had grown fond of the boy. Gregory had the exuberance and eagerness of the young. He wanted to learn and constantly asked questions, and he wanted to help, sometimes to the point where he got in the way.
Sam knew that Gregory also spent a lot of time exploring the area he now called his neighbourhood. But he was a good boy and he listened to Sam. Sam wasn’t sure if he should admit it, but he enjoyed Gregory’s company. He liked seeing things through a child’s eyes.
“What are we going to do today?” Gregory asked.
“We’re going to cut lumber to make a windlass.”
“My dad did that last week.”
“Good,” Sam said. “Since you know how to do it, I’ll leave it for you to cut the pieces while I have a nap.”
“I can’t use the saw by myself,” Gregory sputtered.
“Okay, then we’ll do it together.”
Sam smiled to himself. The first time Gregory came he’d talked about all the things he’d done with his father. But, like most kids his age, it was sometimes more exciting to spend time with someone other than your parents.
Sam and Gregory washed the dishes then put on their coats, hats, and mitts and went outside. It was snowing lightly. Within a couple of hours they had cut most of the lumber Sam needed for the windlass. It was a simple piece of equipment but was an important one for digging for gold in the winter.
Sam saw two men walking up the frozen creek towards them lugging large packs on their backs.
“Hi,” one of them said. “I’m Harold Wilson and this is Bert Scott. We’re looking for Eight Above Bonanza.”
“I’m Sam Owens.” He reached out to shake the men’s hands. “This is Four Above so it’s four claims over. You buy it?”
“Yes, and we’re hoping to get a cabin built before it snows too much.”
“I’ll come and help you build the cabin,” Gregory said, eagerly. “I’m a good worker.”
Harold looked at Sam.
“This is Gregory Drury. His parents are up on Eldorado Creek. He comes here to visit once in a while.”
“Well, thank you, young Gregory,” Harold said. “We will let you know if we need you.”
Sam smiled because he knew that Gregory wasn’t going to be deterred that easily.
“I can split wood and I helped Sam saw some lumber for a windlass today.”
“You sound like a hard worker,” Bert said.
Gregory’s chest stuck out. “I am and I’m tough, too.”
“We’re just going to set up our tent for now and look around,” Harold explained.
“I’ll drop by tomorrow.” Gregory nodded his head as if that settled the matter.
“Maybe you should give them a few days to settle in,” Sam suggested. “They’ll need to unpack and decide where they want their cabin before they can do anything.”
Gregory thought it over. “You’re right,” he agreed, looking up at Sam. “And we have work to do here.”
Sam smiled at Gregory’s use of ‘we.’ “Yes, we do,” he said, and nodded at the men as they continued up the creek to their claim.
* * *
Pearl added more wood to the fire, then went back to the table and picked up her pencil with cold fingers. It was mid-October. The temperature during the day rose to about forty-five degrees Fahrenheit but dropped to fourteen degrees above zero during the night. The ground had frozen hard and it was always cold in their tent no matter how much wood they put in the stove. She and Emma were both glad they had brought along thick woolen underwear, woolen stockings, boots, shoes, a flannel-lined woolen dress, and a warm wool coat.
The last boats carrying prospectors had arrived near the end of September, working their way through the slush ice that was forming on the river. But now the water was frozen out from both shores though it still flowed in the middle. Snow had fallen for the past two days. The sunlight hours were decreasing each day and by late afternoon they had to light a candle to see what they were doing. They now found the days long and boring.
They had brought in one more chair so space was limited in their tent and there wasn’t much to do except keep the fire going to stay warm and haul water from a hole in the river ice. They had even had to quit baking bread. The fire they had to keep going was too hot and burned the loaves, and to let the fire die down to a reasonable heat meant they almost froze. It just wasn’t worth it. Paul had brought them more pans for baking bread and tins for pies but they hadn’t been able to use any of them.
Pearl was surprised at how quickly Joseph Ladue’s town was forming. In spite of the cold, the sawmill ran all day and sometime all night. Until freeze-up, logs had been rafted down the river to the town site and piled. Joseph’s warehouse was complete and he had brought his goods and wares from his post at Ogilvie to sell from the store. He’d also built himself a cabin that had quickly become a saloon he named the Pioneer. Pearl saw men entering it even in the afternoon. She imagined they spent their time drinking and talking about the gold strike, because there wasn’t much else happening. She envied them a place to go and visit. She and Emma were getting tired of reading the few books they had brought, or playing cards to while away the time.
Pearl was disappointed that she hadn’t had much chance to speak with Joseph since his sawmill was up and running. On the days that she and Emma did venture out for a walk she made a point of waving to him while he worked. He always smiled and nodded back but that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to sit down and talk with him, learn more about him, find out why she had these feelings for him.
She’d heard that he was selling his rough lumber at $140.00 per thousand feet to the miners who were working on Bonanza and Eldorado creeks. He’d been right not to get a claim but she wasn’t sure how well he would do selling his town lots. He was offering them at between five and twenty-five dollars, depending on how close to the river they were. So far, only a couple of men had bought lots and started building cabins on them.
“Hello, in there,” a voice called.
Pearl glanced at Emma and saw a look of joy on her face.
“Donald.” Emma jumped up and hurried to raise the flap. “Come in.”
Donald stepped in, his face red from the cold.
“What are you doing here on such a terrible day?” Emma asked. “Stand by the stove and warm up.”
“I’ve come to build you a cabin,” Donald said, rubbing his hand together over the heat.
“What?” Pearl and Emma looked at each other.
“I can’t let you spend the winter in this tent. I’ve got some gold from my claim and I’m going to buy a lot from Joe. I’m sure he and a couple other men will be willing to help me put up a cabin for you.”
“But we can’t afford to pay the men.” Pearl’s heart sank. It would be so nice to have a cabin to call home here.
Donald smiled. “Word has gotten around that you ladies make the best sourdough bread and the men are disappointed that you don’t bake anymore. I think some of them will take a loaf or two of your bread as part payment.”
“Do you think so?” Emma asked, excitement in her voice.
“Yes. Now let’s go talk to Joe about a lot.”
Pearl and Emma bundled up in their heavy coats and boots. They walked beside Donald, Emma holding his hand. Their breath immediately vaporized around them in the cold air. The snow crunched under their boots as they walked. The shriek of the saw cutting through the wood increased as they neared the mill. Joseph had built a roof over it to keep the rain and snow off. He was standing under that roof running the carriage when they walked up. Pearl watched him in case he lifted his head and saw them. He didn’t, but a man beside him did and nudged him with his elbow.
Pearl’s heart flipped at Joseph’s smile. He motioned for them to wait, then stepped aside and let the other man take over the lever. He came up to them.
“Let’s move farther away from here,” he yelled to be heard over the saw.
They followed him a distance from the noise and stopped.
“What can I do for you today?” Joseph asked.
“It’s getting too cold for these ladies to live in a tent,” Donald explained. “I want to buy a lot and some logs for a cabin.”
“I can make that happen,” Joseph said. “Do you know which lot you want?”
“No, we haven’t looked yet.”
“We don’t need one close to the river,” Pearl said, wanting to get Joseph’s attention. So far he had only talked with Donald.
“Well, you don’t want to be too far away for carrying water.” Joseph looked at her when he spoke.
“Oh, right.” Pearl smiled at him, happy that he cared about her welfare. The task of carrying water had worsened in the cold weather since they now had to carry an axe to open the hole in the ice before they could dip their pails.
“I want to keep Front Street for future businesses,” Joseph said. “But any street further back is fine.”
They walked to the lots that Joseph Ladue had measured. The streets ran parallel to the river and the avenues were perpendicular. In the street beyond Front Street they picked out a lot a block away from the warehouse and Joseph’s saloon. They went to the warehouse where Donald held out a sack with gold flakes and small nuggets in it. Joseph trickled some onto the gold scale on the counter and measured out fifteen dollars for the lot.
“I’ll let you know how much for the logs once the cabin has been built,” Joseph said.
“Fine with me,” Donald agreed. “There seems to be more gold where that came from. And one more thing. I would like to buy a stove to take back with me.”
Joseph nodded. “How are you moving it?”
“Paul and his dog team.”
“We’ll load it when you are ready to leave.” Joseph glanced at the three of them. “I apologize but I must get back to work”
Pearl felt a prick of disappointment. She’d only managed a few words with him and now he was leaving. They followed him out of the warehouse and watched him walk back to the sawmill.
“You ladies go back to your tent and warm up.” Donald directed his remark and his eyes to Emma. “I’m staying with Paul and we will start levelling the lot.”
“Thank you, Donald.” Emma stretched up and kissed him on the cheek.
Pearl smiled slightly at the way his face reddened.
“I’d do anything for you, Emma,” Donald stammered.
“Yes, thank you very much.” Pearl resisted the urge to hug him. He barely knew she was there.
“What do you think?” Emma asked, as they hurried back to their tent.
“About the cabin or Donald?”
“Both.
“I think it is so wonderful of Donald to build us a cabin.”
Emma gave Pearl an exasperated look.
“And I think he’s in love with you.” Pearl smiled.
“You do?” Emma asked, blushing.
“Well, he barely spoke to me the whole time we were all together. It was your opinion he asked for about which lot to choose. So it’s not me he’s doing this for. And no man would buy a lot and build a cabin for a woman if he didn’t love her.”
* * *
The talk on the creeks the past few weeks was about Louis Rhodes and his Twenty-One Above claim. He had dug his way down through the frozen muck and gravel and on October 3 reached bedrock at only fifteen feet. According to the story, Louis could hold up a candle and see seams of clay and gravel layered with gold. If the story was true then Louis had hit the old creek channel on his first try.
Sam remembered when Louis had tried to sell his claim for two hundred and fifty dollars and had no takers. He bet there were a lot of men who regretted that now.
“Louis was lucky to strike bedrock and gold at fifteen feet,” Sam said, as he and Donald drank their morning coffee.
“Yes,” Donald agreed. “And the problem is none of the rest of us can predict if the bedrock runs through our claims and, if so, where.” He paused, then looked at Sam. “We could give up looking on our claims and go work for Louis. He’s hiring men to take out the gold and he’s paying them every night by letting them scoop up a few pans of dirt from the bottom of his shaft.”
Sam wrinkled his nose. “I’m not going to make someone else money when I could be sitting on a gold mine myself.” He stood. “And speaking of gold, the permafrost won’t thaw itself.”
Sam added more wood to the stove to keep what little warmth there was in the cabin while they were gone. Because of the cold, they were now wearing their winter clothes that included dungarees, mining coats with storm collars and heavy linings, and shirts made of heavy woven wools. Sam pocketed a candle and they stepped out into falling snow.
“Louis found an old creek bed that went through here probably thousands of years ago,” Sam said thoughtfully as they walked on the snow-covered creek ice to their shaft. “Which means this creek could have been rerouted many times over the centuries.”
They had dug down far enough that they had had to erect their windlass. It consisted of a base of timbers layered around the edge of the hole. Two, four-foot high posts were nailed upright across from each other and braced to the base with pieces of wood. Grooves were cut in the top of the posts and a log was laid in the grooves. A handle was attached to one end of the log and a rope was wrapped around the log. A pail hung from the rope.
Donald dropped some kindling and wood down the shaft while Sam lowered the pail. Sam sat on the edge of the hole. He grabbed hold of the rope and descended using his hands. At the bottom, he pulled the candle from his pocket and lit it.
“I don’t suppose any gold showed up overnight,” Donald called down.
Sam held the candle up to the frozen permafrost. “Nope. There’s nothing but the usual gravel and mud down here.”
He piled the kindling and wood and started them on fire. When it was going, he pulled himself up hand over hand and Donald turned the handle to bring up the pail. They now had to wait until the fire burned down and the shaft cleared of smoke.
“Do you think we should try working at night like other prospectors do?” Donald asked as they walked over to see Gordon.
Sam shook his head. “I think it is too dangerous to work in the half-dark of the moon on the snow or the full dark when there are clouds. We wouldn’t have the light from the hole opening to use until we get the candle lit at the bottom. I don’t think finding gold is worth getting injured or killed over.”
“Gordon, it’s Sam and Donald,” Sam called, when they reached Gordon’s tent.
When there was no answer, he tried again. They raised the flap. The tent was empty and the stove that Donald had brought back for him was cold. Even though Gordon had taken an axe with him, he seldom chopped wood for his stove. Every few days, Sam and Donald brought over some of their drier wood and piled it by the tent.
“I’m going to start a fire for him,” Donald said.