ORCA AND THE MINERS 



65 



herds, till in the early evening we sighted a little cluster 

 of buildings peeping out of the forest at the base of a lofty 

 mountain. This was Orca where there is a large sal- 

 mon cannery and a postoffice. Here we anchored for 

 the night. In the long twilight some of our party 

 climbed to the top of the mountain, 2,500 feet in height, 

 and brought back a native heather, or bryanthus, in 

 bloom. Others of us wandered upon the beach and en- 

 gaged in conversa- 



tion with some gold 

 seekers just out from 

 Copper River. They 

 were encamped here 

 waiting for a steamer 

 to take them away, 

 and for funds from 

 friends at home to 

 enable them to get away. It was a story of hardships 

 and disappointment that they had to tell us — yes, and 

 of scurvy and death. Over 3,000 men had gone into the 

 Copper River region a year or more before on the wild- 

 est, vaguest rumor of gold. They had gone in hurriedly 

 and slyly, as it were, so as to be ahead of the crowd. 

 Each man had taken supplies to last him a year at least. 

 Now they were coming out destitute and without one 

 cent's worth of gold; many of them had died. Scurvy 

 had broken out among them, had swept away scores 

 of them and had lamed and disabled others. Their toils 

 and privations had been terrible; snow, glaciers, moun- 

 tains, swollen rivers had blocked their way. Most of 

 them had abandoned their unconsumed supplies and 



SALMON CANNERY AT ORCA. 



extra blankets, content to 



get out with their lives. 



They were from the East and from the West, lumber- 

 men from Maine and Pennsylvania and old miners from 

 California and Colorado. They were a sturdy, sober- 



