256 Musings by Camp- Fire and Wayside 



tages, I touched at both ends, so when the ship 

 rolled in that storm I neither rasped a hole through 

 the mattress nor had to go to a cobbler to get my- 

 self half-soled. 



At the hotel, on the counter, a nickel-plated pipe 

 came up, bent over, and poured a constant stream 

 of the unequaled Alaskan water into an always 

 overflowing tumbler. Now I would immediately 

 reach home by telegraph, but was surprised to 

 learn that no part of Alaska is connected with the 

 States by wire. I had not received a word from 

 home since I left the front door two months before. 

 As long as one can speak to his friends at any time, 

 he does not feel that he is away from them. 



At the Treadwell mines labor-saving is brought 

 to its perfection. The low-grade ores are treated 

 at a cost of one dollar per ton. The mills in the 

 States charge ten dollars per ton. This economy 

 in extracting the precious metal will soon make 

 gold over-abundant, reduce its value so as to make 

 it inconvenient to carry. There is no limit to the 

 amount of gold that is accessible; its costliness 

 arises from the labor required to concentrate it. 

 One can dig a spadeful of earth almost anywhere in 

 Alaska, and wash gold out of it. It is so in all the 

 country around Cook's Inlet and the tributary 

 rivers in the Cape Nome country. The prospec- 

 tors who starved out on the Copper River said 

 they could get gold anywhere in the whole region. 

 Alaska is dusted over with it. The insuperable 



