Travels in Alaska 



"slickens" or "slumgullion." The bread was terrible 

 and sinful. How the Lord's good wheat could be made 

 into stuff so mysteriously bad is past finding out. The 

 very de'il, it would seem, in wicked anger and in- 

 genuity, had been the baker. 



On our walk from Dease Lake to Telegraph Creek 

 we had one of these rough luncheons at three o'clock 

 in the afternoon of the first day, then walked on five 

 miles to Ward's, where we were solemnly assured that 

 we could not have a single bite of either supper or 

 breakfast, but as a great favor we might sleep on his 

 best gray bunk. We replied that, as we had lunched 

 at the lake, supper would not be greatly missed, and 

 as for breakfast we would start early and walk eight 

 miles to the next road-house. We set out at half-past 

 four, glad to escape into the fresh air, and reached 

 the breakfast place at eight o'clock. The landlord 

 was still abed, and when at length he came to the door, 

 he scowled savagely at us as if our request for break- 

 fast was preposterous and criminal beyond anything 

 ever heard of in all goldful Alaska. A good many in 

 those days were returning from the mines dead broke, 

 and he probably regarded us as belonging to that 

 disreputable class. Anyhow, we got nothing and had 

 to tramp on. 



As we approached the next house, three miles ahead, 

 we saw the tavern-keeper keenly surveying us, and, 

 as we afterwards learned, taking me for a certain 

 judge whom for some cause he wished to avoid, he 

 hurriedly locked his door and fled. Half a mile farther 

 on we discovered him in a thicket a little way off the 



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