to
get a glimpse of a new lot of "Chechakos," as all newcomers are called.

Soon after landing I met upon the street an old Seattle friend of my
parents, who knew me instantly and directed me to my father. This man's
kind offer to look up my baggage was accepted, and I trudged down
through the town towards the Klondyke River, where my father and brother
lived. I had no difficulty in finding father, and after the first
surprise and our luncheon were over we proceeded to find my brother at
his work. His astonishment was as great as my father's, and I cannot
truthfully state that either of them were overcome with joy at seeing me
in Dawson. At any other time or place they undoubtedly would have been
delighted, but they were too well acquainted with conditions to wish
another member of their family there in what was probably then the
largest and roughest mining camp in the world. The situation that
presented itself was this. Instead of finding my relatives comfortably
settled in a large and commodious log cabin of their own on the banks of
the Klondyke River, as they had written they were, I found them in the
act of moving all their belongings into a big covered scow or barge
drawn close to the river bank and securely fastened. Cooking utensils,
boxes, bags of provisions consisting of flour, beans and meal, as well
as canned goods of every description, along with firewood and numerous
other things, were dumped in one big heap upon the banks of the Klondyke
River near the barge.

The small sheet iron box with door and lid, called a Yukon stove, had
been set up close in one corner of the living room, which in size was
about eight by ten feet. Two bunks, one above the other in the opposite
corner, had been lately constructed by father, who at the moment of my
arrival was busy screwing a small drop leaf to the wall to be used as a
dining table when supported by a couple of rather uncertain adjustable
legs underneath.

The meaning of all this commotion was not long to find. Father and
brother had, along with many more as peaceable and law-abiding citizens,
been ordered out of their log cabins, built at a great out-lay of time,
money and strength, so that their homes should be pulled down in
accordance with an order given by the Governor. This land, as the city
had grown, had increased in value and was coveted by those high in
authority. No redress was made the settlers, no money was paid them,
nothing for them but insulting c