February, 1919 
57 
FOREST AND STREAM 
For luncheon we ate all the remaining eggs, about eight to the man 
tableland of barren tundra and late in 
the afternoon began to descend toward 
Skilak Lake — slipping and sliding down 
the last few miles to camp. Here our 
1 back-packing ended and a long journey 
by water stretched ahead. 
B en began immediately to tinker with 
his outboard motor and get the boat 
in order for the long trip across thir- 
teen miles of lake, twenty miles of tur- 
bulent river, which, unfortunately, would 
. be flowing in the wrong direction, and 
another twenty-three mile lake trip to 
the new Government railroad. 
Mackay and I examined our sheep 
heads which were hanging in noble array 
beneath the cache and congratulated our- 
selves on the success of the trip. Next 
morning before the mists of night had 
cleared from the face of the water we 
put out on our voyage and skirted the 
shore to the chugging monotone of the 
motor, which was echoed back to us from 
the fog-wrapped hills. At one o’clock we 
had reached the river and wound our way 
up one of the branches which formed its 
mouth as far as the motor could push 
against the current and then landed and 
cooked our lunch. From now on we 
would be obliged to line the boat up 
stream against a strong and treacherous 
current — the water was very high and 
ran like a mill-race along the shore. 
Mackay and I kept in touch with the 
boat from the bank and helped the men 
over the rough places, but the glorious 
struggle was theirs to the utmost and 
they seemed to revel in the fierce breasting 
of the stream — wading sometimes waist 
deep and leaning over until the water al- 
most ran down their throats, with the 
smile of triumph on their faces as the 
boat gained inch by inch against the 
power of the current. 
When the sun had set we tied the boat 
to the bank, wrung out our clothes, 
poured the water from our shoe-pacs, 
built a fire and dried out as we munched 
our supper. Then, as the night was clear, 
we spread our sleeping bags under the 
friendly stars and while the moonlight 
sifted through the spruce trees we rested 
tired limbs and aching muscles. Nature 
worked her great restorer and the waters 
of the river rushed by in ceaseless roaring 
throughout the night. 
T WO more days brought us to Cooper 
Creek Landing near the mouth of 
Kenai Lake. The last was a day of 
hard exhausting labor — lining the boat 
up through some narrow canyons whose 
sheer rock sides afforded scant foothold, 
and the high swift water pulled with 
great power against the heavy boat — but 
our splendid men overcame all the ob- 
structions that beset them and brought 
us through with never a sign of weaken- 
ing, though the odds seemed sometimes 
unsurmountable. Nighttime brought re- 
ward in rest and food and the zest with 
which they tackled the bean pot proved 
that they had earned their dinner. 
Jimmie Kyle came down to visit us 
and invited us to spend the night at his 
mining camp, a short walk up Cooper 
Creek, but we rigged up the tent and 
slept by the murmuring water. The next 
morning proved to be one of rare beauty 
with not a cloud in sight, and we made 
an early start for Kenai Lake, arriving 
at Victor Gombard’s cabin at its mouth 
about ten o’clock. Here we donned dry 
clothes and when Ben had adjusted the 
motor to his satisfaction we put-putted 
away toward open water. 
We figured that we would make the 
other end of the lake where the railroad 
ran in about four or five hours. Well 
satisfied that all the hard work of the 
trip was far behind us we lay back on 
our duffle bags in placid comfort, content 
to watch the ripple of our wake and 
dream of all the delights of civilization 
that were waiting just ahead. 
A ll went well for a mile or two and 
then we noticed that the sky was 
beginning to cloud up, a little breeze 
began to blow and the smooth surface of 
the lake was beginning to ripple, just 
enough to make us feel a little uneasy as 
to the future. It was not long before the 
sky became completely overcast and the 
breeze stiffened quite perceptibly. We 
chugged along, shipping seas, getting 
drenched by spray, but rather enjoying 
the sudden change in the weather until a 
tell-tale miss in the even song of the 
motor gave a new trend of thought for 
our imagination to feed upon. As if in 
answer to our questioning thoughts it 
suddenly did as we expected — stopped 
as dead as a piece of iron. We were com- 
pelled to resort to man-power as a means 
of locomotion. We were heavily laden — 
deep in the water, and the storm had set- 
tled down to a steady blow with accom- 
panying high seas and rolling combers, 
white with anger and slapping our little 
craft with furious dashings. Ben was 
spinning the flywheel of the motor with 
patient persistence while we pulled, two 
men to the oar, in frantic endeavor to 
keep the boat moving against the forces 
of nature. The motor seemed to have re- 
alized at last that Ben would have kept 
on spinning it forever and so responded 
with a good grace to the inevitable just 
in time to overcome the pressure of the 
hosts arrayed against us, and we steered 
into the lee of an island and finally landed 
behind a cliff, out of the wind. 
We climbed the cliff and looked up 
the lake along the course we had in- 
tended to take, but such a scene of wild 
commotion met our eyes — a rolling, toss- 
(CONTINUED ON PAGE 88) 
