steamboat lay wintering upon the bank.

[Sidenote: ROAD-HOUSES]

Our way now left the Kuskokwim and struck across country to a point just
below the junction of the forks, and then across country again to a
tributary of the right bank, the Takotna; with a general northerly
direction. Road-houses there indeed were, in the crudity and discomfort
of their first season, and other evidences of the proximity of the white
man. Here were two men camped, hunting moose for the Iditarod market,
more than a hundred and twenty-five miles away, and here, at the end of
the second day, near the mouth of the Takotna, was the new post of the
Commercial Company in the charge of an old acquaintance who welcomed us
warmly and entertained us most hospitably. After camping and road-house
experience of nearly three weeks, a comfortable bed and well-spread
table, and the general unmistakable menage of a home-making woman are
very highly enjoyed. That night the whole population of the settlement,
fourteen persons, gathered in the store for Divine service.

Sixteen miles farther on was another settlement, the "Upper Takotna"
Post, with a rival company established and some larger population. Here,
also, we spent a night with old Fairbanks acquaintances. We were yet a
hundred miles from Iditarod City, and the trail lay over a very rugged,
hilly country, up one creek to its head, over a divide, and down
another, in the way of the usual cross-country traverse.

There had not been so much snowfall in this section, but the weather
began to be very severe. The thermometer fell to -45 deg. and -50 deg. and -55 deg.
on three successive nights, and all day long rose not above -20 deg., with a
keen wind. The cost of transporting supplies to the road-houses on this
trail justified the high prices charged--one dollar and a half for a
poor meal of rabbits and beans and bacon, or ptarmigan and beans and
bacon, and one dollar for a lunch of coffee, bread and butter, and dried
fruit. But no such exigency could be pleaded to excuse the dirt and
discomfort and lack of the commonest provision of outhouse decency at
most of these places--'twas mere shiftlessness. There is not often much
middle ground in Alaskan road-houses; they are either very good in their
way or very bad; either kept by professional victuallers who take pride
in them or by idle incompetents who make an easy living out of the
necessities of travellers. One wishes that some of the old-time
travell