‘‘Packers?’’
‘‘The Indians are packing goods over the Chilkoot Pass for the stampeders. Many of the Tlingits that were living down here have gone up the trail to earn money from the white stampeders. Since your pa is involved with teaching the Indians about God, I thought maybe he’d followed them to that place.’’
Karen felt a twinge of excitement. ‘‘You’re sure it’s the Tlingits? I mean, my father might have involved himself with other tribes, but those were the main people he felt called to minister to.’’
Bill nodded. ‘‘It’s the Tlingits, all right. They used to have all the rights to the pass. I heard one old sourdough tellin’ that they used to charge their own fees for crossing over the land. In fact, they wouldn’t even allow traders in or out. They would buy the goods themselves and go over the pass and north to trade with the Yukon First Nations people.’’
‘‘You’ve certainly learned quite a bit in your short time up here,’’ Karen said, greatly impressed.
Bill nodded. ‘‘Pays to keep an open ear. Anyway, this fella told me that there were a great many Tlingits, men, women, and children, getting paid handsomely to pack the miners’ goods up to the Scale and then up and over the summit.’’
‘‘Is it a bad climb?’’ Karen questioned. ‘‘I’ve heard so many talking of the difficulties. I presume that this is the same pass.’’
‘‘It is. It’s the shortest route north and that’s why so many folks are using it.’’
Karen realized that this might well be the answer to her long and arduous prayers. She would have a difficult time leaving Grace and Doris to go scouting about. Especially miles down unfamiliar trails, with little to protect herself and no one to help her.
‘‘Well, is it a deal, then?’’ she asked. ‘‘I’ll see to Leah and Jacob. You can bring the tent here around back, but the children are welcome to stay inside our tent on nights when it looks like you might not return until late. I couldn’t sleep knowing they were out there by themselves. I’ll give them chores and they can earn their keep.’’ She smiled and extended her hand. ‘‘Deal?’’
Bill smiled and nodded. ‘‘Deal.’’
KAREN STOOD OVER a pot of hot water playing referee to a washboard and her best Sunday blouse. It came as an amazing fact that she was so clumsy with such a simple task. She had once been responsible for washing all of her things, but after a time in the Hawkins household, she had been relieved of such duties. She had been happy when such menial tasks were passed to servants, but now she wished she were more competent with such handwork.
The afternoon was quite lovely, however, and if a person had to be battling the laundry, Dyea was a very scenic place to do it. There weren’t very many businesses, and in spite of the multitudes of people passing through, the area wasn’t nearly as lawless as Skagway.
People passing through seemed to be her biggest problem, however. No one stuck around long enough to suggest whether they’d met up with her father or not. They were hurriedly passing from Skagway to the Chilkoot Trail with Dyea as nothing more than a resting-place. Or they were returning dejected and broke from the trail, with no time for the nonsense of talking with Karen about her missing father. She found herself lost in thoughts of what they’d do if she couldn’t find him. She worried even more that he might not even be alive. If he was dead, what would she do? There certainly wasn’t enough money to return to Seattle. Besides, did she really want to return to Seattle?
I don’t know how we’ll get
through the winter,
she thought.
If we can’t live in a proper
house, with the necessary articles to protect ourselves and keep
warm, we might all die
.
Casting a glance toward the mountains, Karen couldn’t help but feel the hypnotic lure of their beauty. It was a kind of madness, someone had said. A kind of sickness that got into a man or woman’s blood and refused to be purged. It was as she stood pondering this very issue that Bill Barringer chose to again appear in her life.
‘‘Karen! Karen!’’ Bill called out as he trudged down the muddy alleyway with two other men.
Karen felt an electrifying tingle go up her spine. Bill was back! That had to be good. He’d been gone for weeks, and the days were getting colder, the threat of snow gradually giving everyone concern for their future. He ambled down the road, however, as if the weather and timing were of no concern.
Karen noted that none of the men seemed in too much of a hurry. The smaller of the two was clearly a native. His shoulder-length black hair stuck out from an exaggerated white felt bowler, while the rest of his costume was a mix of heavy canvas pants, woolen jacket, and handmade knee-high boots. Their companion, a big, broad-shouldered man with dark hair and a thick mustache, appeared similarly dressed, with a rifle and pack slung over his back.
‘‘Bill, have you found my father?’’ Karen asked, unconcerned with awaiting introductions.
‘‘I haven’t found him,’’ Bill admitted, ‘‘but both of these men know him and said that up until three weeks ago when they saw him last, he was doing just fine.’’
Karen drew a deep breath to steady herself. ‘‘You actually saw him?’’ she said, looking to the men collectively.
‘‘Sure did. Brother Pierce was headin’ inland last we saw him,’’ the bigger man announced. ‘‘Makin’ his rounds.’’
‘‘And he was healthy?’’ she asked the man.
His dark eyes were fixed on her face as he smiled. ‘‘Fit as any man can ever be.’’
She nodded and allowed herself to relax a bit. ‘‘Do you know how I can reach him?’’
The smaller man joined in the conversation. ‘‘He be back before first snow. He stay here in winter.’’
‘‘When can we expect first snow?’’ she asked anxiously.
‘‘Signs don’t seem to show it coming for at least a week or two,’’ the big man replied. ‘‘Then again, with snow, you can never be sure. A snow could come up tomorrow and seal the pass for a time or just leave a dusting. You can bet he’ll pack his way back here unless a blizzard comes. He won’t stay in the interior all winter.’’
‘‘Why not?’’ Karen asked.
‘‘Brother Pierce has always done business this way,’’ the man replied. ‘‘Don’t see why he’d change now.’’
‘‘So you think it might be a week, maybe more, before he heads back here to Dyea?’’
‘‘Looks like it. I’d just hold tight.’’
‘‘Thank you, Mr. . . .’’
‘‘Ivankov,’’ he replied. ‘‘Adrik Ivankov.’’
‘‘Adrik is a guide in these parts,’’ Bill explained. ‘‘And this is Dyea Joe. I’m afraid we weren’t very proper with our introductions.’’
‘‘That’s all right,’’ Karen said, reaching once again for the laundry board. ‘‘I’m learning very quickly that time spent in formalities down in the continental states is much better spent elsewhere up here.’’
Adrik grinned. ‘‘Yes, ma’am, now you’re learning the Alaskan way.’’
Karen smiled. ‘‘Is that what you call it?’’ Her mind was still reeling from the news that her father was safe and would return to them in a few short weeks, maybe even days. This thought gave birth to another. ‘‘Oh, by the way, has my father a house here in Dyea? I’ve tried to ask around, but the place is in such a state of confusion. Those who know of my father weren’t well enough acquainted to give me much detail.’’
‘‘He stay with my people,’’ Joe announced. ‘‘He no build house.’’
‘‘Oh,’’ Karen answered, knowing the disappointment she felt was clear in her tone.
‘‘Tent life unbecoming to you?’’ Adrik asked. ‘‘
I just can’t imagine living in a tent all winter,’’ Karen replied. ‘‘I was kind of hoping to have something more substantial come winter.’’
‘‘A tent will keep you fine, even at forty below, Miss Pierce. The secret is getting it set up properly. There are a great many ways of keepin’ warm up here.’’ He winked.
Karen felt her cheeks grow hot. ‘‘I think I’d prefer a house, just the same.’’
‘‘Looks to me things are being slapped together every day. Why not build yourself a place?’’ Adrik suggested, as though she had somehow overlooked the possibility.
‘‘We have discussed it,’’ she admitted. Prior to Peter Colton’s return from Seattle, they’d been quite low on funds, but Peter had been most generous with his cut to them for their hard work and now they were actually flush again. ‘‘I’m afraid,’’ she continued, ‘‘I don’t know who could do the job. Most of the good contractors are tied up with Skagway and Dyea hotel plans. If not that, then they’re busy planning main street shops and such.’’
‘‘Wouldn’t take much to put a place together,’’ Adrik said. ‘‘The three of us could do it. And if you womenfolk joined in helping, we could probably have something put up in a day, maybe two.’’
‘‘You’re joking, right?’’ she said, looking deep into the man’s rugged face. She figured him to be somewhere near her own age or older, but the elements had taken their toll on his skin, as had some obvious encounters with danger. From the looks of several small scars on his face and neck, Adrik Ivankov had obviously had his share of run-ins with the wildlife.
‘‘I’m not joking at all,’’ he replied. ‘‘If we can lay our hands on the lumber, it won’t take any time at all. If we have to fell and prepare logs, then it will take the better part of a week.’’
Karen’s mind began doing mental calculations of what they could accomplish prior to her father’s return. Perhaps if she had a house already established for him, he’d feel free to stay with her and the others. That way they could spend all winter discussing plans for spring. On the other hand, if she waited until her father came back, he might have suggestions of his own. She would hate to leave him out of the decision-making process.
‘‘Let me talk to the others,’’ she said, again abandoning the scrub board. ‘‘Why don’t you all stay for supper and we can discuss this some more?’’
Bill looked to the men, then returned his gaze to Karen. ‘‘I’ll stay. That way you can fill me in on things that happened while I was gone.’’
‘‘And you can be with the children,’’ she reminded him.
‘‘I’m afraid Joe and I can’t stay. We have business elsewhere. We’ll stop by tomorrow morning and see what you’ve decided,’’ Adrik said.
Karen nodded. ‘‘Until tomorrow, then.’’ The big man tipped his battered Stetson while Dyea Joe took his hat off completely and gave her a little bow.
After they’d gone, Karen turned to Bill with a smile. ‘‘I can’t thank you enough for helping me. I was beginning to worry about you, however. I thought maybe we were going to have to send a search party out for you instead of Father.’’
Bill looked away as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. ‘‘I know it wasn’t very thoughtful of me. But by the time I got up Sheep Camp way, there were far too many folks to allow for easy questioning. There were a lot of Tlingit up there, and most of them, even the women and children, were helping to pack the gold rushers up to the summit.’’
‘‘Sounds like horribly hard work.’’
‘‘It is,’’ Bill agreed, then looked at her rather sheepishly. ‘‘I needed some money myself, so I gave it a try.’’
‘‘Was it bad? I’ve heard so many rumors, stories of men who’ve given up and come back to sell out and go home. Why, we bought up the supplies of at least a half dozen men who were too discouraged to continue.’’
‘‘There are a lot of them out there. Only the strongest and bravest are going to make it north. That’s for sure.’’
‘‘I read up on this gold rush. The area of Dawson City is still hundreds of miles away. These people are going to be months, maybe even years on the trail. Do they even realize that? Did you, when you began to head north to search for gold?’’
Bill shook his head. ‘‘I figured it would be hard, but I didn’t know just how hard. Sure enough isn’t a place for children.’’
Karen could see the worried look in his eyes. No doubt his concern for Leah and Jacob weighed heavy on his heart. ‘‘No, I don’t imagine it is a place for them. You could certainly stay here and earn enough to take you home again.’’
‘‘We haven’t got a home anymore,’’ he said, his voice laced with sorrow. ‘‘I was hoping we’d find a home up here.’’
‘‘But this country is hardly suitable for bringing up a family. You have to consider their needs as well,’’ Karen answered. ‘‘What happens when the gold plays out and the crowds leave for the States? Will you just uproot them and follow the masses?’’
‘‘I don’t know,’’ he replied, looking up to meet her eyes.
Karen had never seen such a lack of hope in a man’s face as she had come to see in those lost souls who had given up on their dreams of gold and were headed back to wives and families in homes so far away. But even knowing that look— that despair—she was almost stunned by the depths of desperation and sadness in Bill Barringer’s eyes. It was as if a curtain had been lifted on an empty stage. A dark, bleak, desolate stage.
‘‘Bill, I know it isn’t my place to speak on such matters, but I feel I must say this,’’ she began. She watched him for any signs of anger or emotion, but there were none. ‘‘I’m sorry for the loss you suffered. Your wife was obviously very precious to you—to your whole family. I see the pain in Jacob’s eyes, and I’ve heard Leah speak of things about her mother and then burst into tears. I look at you and I know that you must have loved her a great deal.’’ His eyes sparked with a glint of interest. Karen took the opportunity to drive her point home.
‘‘I cannot imagine that your wife would want you to grieve so deeply for her. She no doubt loved you and your children and she would want you to go forward with life, living each day to the fullest and experiencing great joy, even in her absence. Forgive me for being so bold, but a woman as you have described her to be would never rest knowing you are spending your life—dying. Mourning yourself to death. Leaving your children to fend for themselves in their sorrow.’’
Bill looked to the ground. ‘‘I know, but I have nothing to give them.’’ He looked up, and Karen could see that the emptiness had returned. ‘‘I’ll think on what you’ve said, but I need to earn a living and the best place I can do that is packing goods up the trail. I can get the children jobs as well, and then maybe they won’t be so lost in thoughts of their ma.’’