LIFE ON A YUKON TRAIL 387 



cabins of the dead perched upon Mameloose hill, 200 feet above 

 the river, can be seen for three miles down the stream. One little 

 trunk, scarcely larger than a physician's medicine chest, was 

 housed under a diminutive canvas tent. Few of the living Tahl- 

 tans possess glass windows in their cabins, but these luxurious 

 accessories are furnished the dead, whose spirits, with proverb- 

 ial Indian curiosity, are supposed to be on the lookout for in- 

 teresting phenomena in the village below. And since the world 

 began was there ever so much to thrill the imagination of those 

 simple folk of the forest as the phenomena provided by the gold- 

 seekers last spring ! 



Gold hunting has no fascination for the natives of these regions, 

 and they have never worked the old placer grounds in the vicin- 

 ity in search of it. It must have seemed to them that all white 

 men had suddenly gone mad. The sudden irruption into the 

 solitudes of a far country of hundreds of swarthy men with horses, 

 bullocks, goats, dogs, and impedimenta by the ton, amused the 

 simple natives in much the same way as children are pleased at 

 the antics of a menagerie of performing animals. All day long 

 the bucks, wrapped in Hudson's Bay Company blankets, sat 

 stolidly upon piles of lodge-poles on the bank, absorbed in the 

 contemplation of the busy scenes on the river. They were 

 amazed at the prodigious quantity of supplies; they marveled 

 at the energy which had braved the snows of the river, but all 

 shook their heads discouragingly at the project of taking the 

 heavy outfits over the mountain trail into the interior. From 

 being objects for the satisfaction of curiosity merely, the strangers 

 became objects for the gratification of avarice. These untutored 

 savages are shrewd and Shylockish in their keenness after a bar- 

 gain. The prices the noble red men put upon their wares or 

 their services were perfectly ridiculous. Ten dollars for a pair 

 of moccasins and $20 for a day's labor at packing were gravely 

 demanded of the strangers. Prices were finally scaled down to 

 a basis of $150 per ton for packing to the first summit of nine 

 miles. At this rate an Indian with his pony could earn from 

 $15 to $18 per day. The Indians suffered economically as well 

 as morally through their fondness for strong drink. Much bad 

 whisky was quietly exchanged for their services. Our cook fixed 

 up a decoction of lemon extract and dark water in which tea 

 leaves had been steeped. Brown sugar and a dash of pepper 

 were added to the mixture. The stuff was put up in old bottles 



