t, and parties disbanded in discouragement and bitterness. The road
to the golden river seemed to grow longer, and the precious sand more
elusive, from day to day. Here at Hazleton, where they had hoped to
reach a gold region, nothing was doing. Those who had visited the
Kisgagash Mountains to the north were lukewarm in their reports, and
no one felt like stopping to explore. The cry was, "On to Dawson."

Here in Hazleton I came upon the lame tramp. He had secured lodging
in an empty shack and was being helped to food by some citizens in
the town for whom he was doing a little work. Seeing me pass he
called to me and began to inquire about the trail.

I read in the gleam of his eye an insane resolution to push forward.
This I set about to check. "If you wish to commit suicide, start on
this trail. The four hundred miles you have been over is a summer
picnic excursion compared to that which is now to follow. My advice
to you is to stay right where you are until the next Hudson Bay
steamer comes by, then go to the captain and tell him just how you
are situated, and ask him to carry you down to the coast. You are
insane to think for a moment of attempting the four hundred miles of
unknown trail between here and Glenora, especially without a cent in
your pocket and no grub. You have no right to burden the other
outfits with your needs."

This plain talk seemed to affect him and he looked aggrieved. "But
what can I do? I have no money and no work."

I replied in effect: "Whatever you do, you can't afford to enter upon
this trail, and you can't expect men who are already short of grub to
feed and take care of you. There's a chance for you to work your way
back to the coast on the Hudson Bay steamer. There's only starvation
on the trail."

As I walked away he called after me, but I refused to return. I had
the feeling in spite of all I had said that he would attempt to
rustle a little grub and make his start on the trail. The whole
goldseeking movement was, in a way, a craze; he was simply an extreme
development of it.

It seemed necessary to break camp in order not to be eaten up by the
Siwash dogs, whose peculiarities grew upon me daily. They were indeed
strange beasts. They seemed to have no youth. I never saw them play;
even the puppies were grave and sedate. They were never in a hurry
and were not afraid. They got out of our way with the least possible
exertion, looking meekly reproachful or snarling threateningly