stick a fork in the gravy."

On September 17 the storm finally abated, and, after an earnest
"good-by and good luck" to C----, my brother and I were rowed out to the
big ship _Tacoma_. We left many behind who would have given their
eye-teeth to be in our boots. It seemed almost too good to be true that
we should be upon that stanch vessel, in good health, and with the near
prospect of enjoying the delights of a home-coming. As is frequently the
case when one has been counting the days which are to lead up to an
anticipated pleasure, a certain apprehension that some mishap might
occur to delay departure had been felt by us during these last days in
Alaska. The _Tacoma_, which before the Nome excitement had been engaged
in the China trade, was officered by Scotsmen and Englishmen and manned
by Chinamen. Big and steady, with roomy decks, she was crowded to the
limit of her passenger accommodations. Though the majority of the
passengers had been unsuccessful, the fact of going home made all
light-hearted and good-natured.

One of the first persons I saw was our Pullman porter friend, who
greeted us grinning and deferentially, though we were still in that
wholesome atmosphere where all men meet on equal terms and no one is
better than the other until he proves it so. He said that he had been
lucky in getting hold of a claim, and drew from his pocket a good-sized
bottle pretty well filled with gold-dust. I learned further that he
would "railroad" during the winter and return in the spring to Nome,
having left behind a "good partner" whom he had so tied up that it
would be impossible to be defrauded! I was flattered to know that on the
occasion of his getting into a "jack-pot" (some trouble) he had hunted
Nome after me for legal advice. He had many opportunities to get into
"trouble" during the voyage home, as he gambled all the time.

Another acquaintance discovered on the ship was the little German
pioneer "Captain Cook." We found him unkempt and disheveled, Rip Van
Winkle-like, an object of commiseration, seated where he had been led.
The old fellow was a very sick man, with dropsy. Quite friendless, he
was unconscious of his surroundings, and looked up in a dazed, hopeless
way when spoken to. It seemed as if he might not return alive to that
"leetle wife in Kansas City." But later, he was taken out upon the deck
and seated in the sun, which did him good; for one day as I passed he
recognized me with a bright look, and in