It was just before Christmas, and into Dawson, a straggling camp of tents and log cabins, the sourdoughs were drifting from the outlying creeks and washes. It was in that portentous year of the Yukon when in August, Henderson’s strike on Gold Bottom was followed immediately by Carmack’s strike on Bonanza, and the men of Fortymile and of Circle looked into the blowers and saw coarse gold that had been panned from the grass roots. Whereupon, claims paying “better than wages” were abandoned, outfits hastily thrown together, and in poling boats and in canoes, the sourdoughs stampeded up river. The traders, the saloon keepers, and the girls from the dance halls followed the gold hunters and on th…
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