hbdlicka] WRITER'S TRIP ON YUKON 49 



see some fossiliferous workings above the town. Another party took 

 me a few miles up and across the river to see an Indian camp and 

 near by some old burials. The collections were sent through parcel 

 post : and the evening before departure I gave a lecture to an atten- 

 tive and respectful audience. 



The town itself, however, is now a mere damaged and crumbling 

 shell of what it was in the heyday of its glory, during the gold rush. 

 Many of the frame dwellings and stores are empty; the board side- 

 walks are rickety and with big holes; and in the air is a general lack 

 of impetus. 



June 23. Failing to find another suitable boat, I once more made 

 an arrangement to go farther down the river with Mr. Peake and 

 his friend. Peake's boat and scow were not much to look at, and 

 the troubles with the engine, and with its owner's raw swearing at 

 times, were somewhat trying; but for my purpose the outfit did well 

 enough, and I was treated very well and given all needed oppor- 

 tunity to examine what was of importance on the banks. I was 

 quite sorry when eventually we had to part company, and I know 

 Mr. Peake has not forgotten my quest, for I heard of his talking 

 about it to parties, with whom I was very glad to come in contact, 

 on the Kuskokwim. 



June 23. The sunny evening of my second busy day at Ruby, 

 near 10 p. m., Peake unexpectedly comes to the hotel to tell me he 

 will be ready to start to-night, on account of quiet water. His 

 wash " is being ironed " and will be ready soon. The marshal comes 

 in, calls the prisoners to take down my baggage, and at 10.15, after 

 true, hearty good-byes, I am once more in the old scow. Then Peake 

 goes for his wash, with an Indian woman, and does not come until 

 near 11. River peaceful, sun shortly set, sky somewhat cloudy, for- 

 est fire on opposite shore below still smoking a great deal. Leaving 

 good people at Ruby, who promise to help in the future. It is 

 getting much cooler after a pretty warm day. Will lie on the hard 

 boxes and try to get a little sleep. 



Thursday, June 24. We went long into the night, then stopped 

 at a lone cabin. Up timely, but slow start — it is 10.10 a. m. before 

 we go. The time gained at night lost now — bad habits. Breeze up 

 the river, occasionally strong, but not severe. 



The cabin was the " Dutchman's," or Meyer's. He came oiit at 

 1 a. m. to meet us, at the bark of his big dogs, a good-hearted, 

 weather-seared prospector, fisherman, and trapper of about 40, alone 

 with his huskies. Asked me into his little log hut, prepared a place 

 for my bedding on a frame, burned powder against the mosquitoes, 

 brought out from cool " cellar " a bottle of root beer he brews, and 

 then we went to sleep. But dogs kept waking us and Meyer went 



