r parkies, which are a sort of long blouse with hood
attachment, short skirts and muckluks, or skin boots, they trotted down
to the beach daily to fish, standing on the wet and slippery rocks,
regardless of wind, spray or snow. Here they flung their fish lines out
into the water and hauled the little fish up dexterously; when, with a
curious twitch they disengaged the finny fellows and tossed them into a
big pan. Little Eskimo children ran on in front of their mothers, and
shaggy dogs followed close behind at the smell of the fish.

CHAPTER VI

COMPANIONS.

But there were passengers arriving at St. Michael each day from
different points bound for Nome.

At last the side-wheeler "Sadie" was to leave for Nome, and what a
commotion! Men in fur coats, caps and mittens, leading dogs of all
colors and sizes, some barking, but all hustled along with no thought of
anything except to reach Cape Nome as quickly as possible. At last they
were off. A rough, and in some instances a drunken lot, but all
hopefully happy and sure that they would "strike it rich" in the new
gold fields. Many, no doubt, were going to their death, many to
hardships and disappointments undreamed of, while a few would find gold
almost inexhaustible.

Still we waited day after day for the ocean steamer "Bertha." One Sunday
morning we looked from the hotel windows to see a clear, cold sky, with
sun and high wind. About ten o'clock we heard a steamer whistling for
assistance. She was small and used for errands by one of the steamship
companies. Still none went to the rescue, as the gale was terrific. A
steam tug started out, but she passed by on the other side, not caring
to act the part of good Samaritan to a rival. In a few moments the
fires of the little steamer were out,--she was sinking. Through a glass
we saw three men on the roof of the craft--then they clung to the
smokestack. A larger steamer, though herself disabled, finally reached
the three drowning men. It was not a moment too soon, for the water was
icy, the gale fearful. They were then hauled in, almost exhausted and
frozen.

It was a wild day. Soon after noon, one of the two big covered barges in
tow by the "Lackme," already loaded for a start for Nome, began to sink.
The wind came from the north, and little by little the barge became
unmanageable, until at last she was cut loose and deserted. For an hour
we watched the barge, until, she too, sank out of sight beneath the
waters