a broad expanse of water dotted here and there with wooded
islands, rich in new foliage and evergreen trees, and again the stream
would narrow, with high and rocky hills on either side. Here the water
would flow swiftly over and around jagged rocks, and the utmost care
would have to be exercised in avoiding a smash-up. Once they did receive
a severe shaking-up and had to run for a low island with all possible
speed, to avoid becoming waterlogged. This happened in the forenoon,
and it took the balance of the day to make the _Wild Goose_ as seaworthy
as before.

A week and more had slipped by since leaving the Rink Rapids, and now
all were on the watch for the first sight of the new gold fields. Every
one was in a state of suppressed excitement. They had met half a dozen
miners sailing back and forth on the river and from these had learned
that everything was "booming," and that strikes were panning out big.
The eyes of both Randy and Earl glistened when they heard these stories,
and the hardships endured since leaving Dyea were forgotten.

"Hurrah! there's a miner's tent!" suddenly shouted Randy, late one
afternoon. "We've struck the diggings at last!"

"There are half a dozen tents and a board cabin!" added Earl, pointing
still further on. "I guess you're right, Randy. I wonder if that is the
Klondike River over yonder. It looks mighty small."

"That's only a creek," said Foster Portney. "We'll land and see how far
we are from Dawson."

The _Wild Goose_ was easily beached, and they lost no time in hunting up
the miners to whom the tents and the cabin belonged. They were a party
of Frenchmen from Canada and could speak but little English. Dr.
Barwaithe spoke to them in their native tongue and soon learned that the
place was Baker's Creek and that Dawson City was about six miles further
on. The Frenchmen were very conservative, but admitted that they were
doing very well at placer-mining, taking out an average of thirty
dollars a day per man.

"Thirty dollars a day!" cried Randy. "A fellow can get rich quick enough
at that rate."

"Hardly--with such a short season," answered his uncle. "Yet thirty
dollars isn't bad by any means."

"I'm up yere to strike a fortune," put in the captain. "No measly little
thirty dollars a day fer me!"

Both Randy and Earl wished to remain behind to see the Frenchmen wash
out the gold dust, but the others were impatient to go on, and they were
soon on the way once more.

"If the