Gypsy - Lesley Pearse [147]
Miraculously the snow ceased and weak sunshine appeared as they left the summit, wearing their snow shoes, for the five-mile trek to Happy Camp. Despite having to haul the heavily laden sledges and adjust to the strangeness of snow shoes, for the first time since they’d left Dyea the going was fairly easy. The number of people who had gone before had made the snow firm, and the sledges glided over it smoothly. They were astounded when someone told them they had only travelled twenty-two miles from Dyea, and eight and a half from Sheep Camp, for it seemed like a hundred.
Despite their exhaustion, the fact that they were moving at last, with the prospect of the night ahead in a tent and a fire to warm them, perked them up. At some downhill points of the trek they even rode on the sledges, shrieking with laughter like children. Some people had rigged up a sail on theirs and even overtook the few that had a dog team.
It was clear why the camp had been named Happy, for it was flat and therefore easier to pitch a tent there, and at last they were back in the timber line, so they could cut wood for fires.
Happiness was all around them that evening, despite the thick snow and promise of more to come. The relief of being able to rest up before going on, the conviction that nothing else could be as bad as the Golden Stairs or the summit, and to be able to sit around a big fire and dry out wet clothes was enough to bring smiles and laughter back.
After they’d made a meal of bacon and rice, Beth got out her fiddle and began to play by the fire. In twos and threes people came across from their tents to listen, cheering at the end of each number. Someone brought a bottle of whisky over to share with Beth and the boys and the fiery liquid went straight to their heads, making them laugh about everything.
Later, as people left to go back to their tents, Beth stood for a moment looking around her. There was a full moon, and the sky was clear and studded with stars. The trees around the camp were poor, thin specimens, but with their snow covering they looked magical. Even the tents all around theirs, which she knew to be stained and worn, looked pretty in the golden light from the fires outside each one. In all the anxiety of the last week she hadn’t noticed the scenery at all, but now, at peace again, she saw how beautiful the wilderness was, and found she was excited about the adventure before them.
‘One day I’ll be able to tell Molly about it all,’ she thought, glancing round at the boys sitting half asleep by the fire. They were all so dirty and unkempt, with red-rimmed eyes, straggling beards, tangled hair and bundled into so many clothes, they could have been mistaken for three bears. She hoped that there might be a photographer somewhere among the people going to Dawson City. It would be good to have a permanent memento of how they all looked on this trail and something to show Molly.
A wolf howled somewhere close by, and its cry was picked up by some of the dogs in the camp. Beth shuddered and hurried back to the fire. For a moment she had forgotten that wild animals lived in this wilderness.
Chapter Twenty-nine
‘We’re here at last!’ Jack chortled gleefully as he ran with the sledge through the narrow end of Lake Lindemann on to Lake Bennett.
Most of their fellow stampeders on the Chilkoot Trail had stayed on the shores of Lake Lindemann to build their boats to sail to Dawson City, but as Jack had heard that when the ice melted the rapids between the two lakes were very dangerous, he had decided that they should tramp through to Lake Bennett and build their boat there.
Theo had been disgruntled at what he saw as an unnecessary trek. He had liked the tented city at Lake Lindemann, where a gambling saloon, bars, shops and even restaurants had sprung up, and he’d been sure he could win enough at poker to buy one of the many collapsible boats brought over the Chilkoot Pass by a dealer. He and Jack had almost come to blows about it, for Jack had claimed these boats weren’t strong enough to get