THE YUKON

WILLIAM OGILVIE

TO within a few years ago a great unexplored solitude extended to the eastward between the valleys of the Upper Yukon, or Lewes, and the Mackenzie, and from the sixtieth parallel of latitude northward to the shores of the “frozen ocean.” This extensive region is known as the Yukon country, a name rendered appropriate by the fact that it is drained by the Yukon River and its tributaries, which form one of the great river systems of the world.

Walled in by high mountains, and in consequence unapproachable from every side, it is not strange that the Yukon district should so long have remained in almost undisturbed seclusion. Had it not been for the fact that the rich metalliferous belt of the Coast and Gold Ranges passes through the district from one end to the other, the probability is that it would still have remained unexplored for many years to come.

Only four gates of approach to the district exist, and, strangely enough, these are situated at the four corners. From the north-west, access is gained to the country by following the Yukon from its mouth in Behring Sea; from the north-east, by crossing from the Mackenzie to the Porcupine, and following down the latter stream to its confluence with the Yukon; from the south-east, by ascending the Liard from Fort Simpson and crossing the water-shed to the head-waters of the Pelly; and finally, from the south-west, by entering where the coast range is pierced by the Chilkoot and Chilkat Passes.

As a matter of fact, all these routes are beset with difficulties, and when it is remembered that there are only four roads into a region three times greater in extent than the total area of the New England States, it is not to be wondered at that the total population of the region should consist of a few scattered Indian families and a hundred or so of hardy miners.

Occasional contributions to our knowledge of the district have been made from time to time for at least half a century, mainly by officers of the Hudson’s Bay Company, miners and employés of the abandoned Telegraph Expedition; and skeleton maps of the interior have been constructed in accordance with the topographical data, so far as known.

Among recent expeditions that of Lieutenant Schwatka, of the United States Army, in the summer of 1883, may be mentioned. Entering the country by the Chilkoot Pass, Lieutenant Schwatka floated down the Yukon on a raft from the source of the Lewes River to Nuklikahyet, continuing his journey from this point to the sea by boat. The object of this expedition was to examine the country from a military point of view, and to collect all available information with regard to the Indian tribes. We are indebted to it also for a great deal of general information with regard to the country. Schwatka, who seems to have gone through the country with his eyes open, used the explorer’s baptismal privilege freely, and scattered monuments of Schwatkanian nomenclature broadcast throughout the land, re-christening many places that had already been named, and doing so too in apparent indifference to the fact that many thus set aside had an established priority of many years.

The part of the journey between Victoria and Chilkoot Inlet has been so much written of, talked of and pictured during the last few years that I will repeat only one of the many statements made concerning it—that though it is in ocean waters and can be traversed by the largest ships, it is so sheltered by countless islands from the gales and waves of the vast Pacific, nearly the whole of the length, that its waters are always as smooth as those of a large river. In marked contrast to this is the west coast of the United States, where harbours are like angel’s visits.

Chatham Strait and Lynn Channel lie almost in a straight line, and during the summer there is always a strong wind blowing up from the sea. At the head of Lynn Channel are Chilkat and Chilkoot Inlets. The distance down these channels to the open sea is about three hundred and eighty miles, and along the whole extent of this the mountains on each side of the water confine the incoming currents of air and deflect inclined currents in the direction of the axis of the channel. Coming from the sea, these air currents are heavily charged with moisture, which is precipitated when they strike the mountains, and the fall of rain and snow is consequently very heavy.

The rapids extending for a couple of miles below the Cañon, are not at all bad. What constitutes the real danger is a piece of calm water forming a short, sharp bend in the river, which hides the last or “White Horse” rapids from sight until they are reached. These rapids are about three-eighths of a mile long. They are the most dangerous on the river, and are never run through in boats except by accident. Parties always examine the Cañon and rapids below before going through, and coming to the calm water suppose they have seen them all, as all noise from the lower rapid is drowned in that of the ones above. On this account several parties have run through the “White Horse,” being ignorant of its existence until they were in it. These rapids are confined by low basaltic banks, which, at the foot, suddenly close in and make the channel about thirty yards wide. It is here the danger lies, as there is a sudden drop, and the water rushes through at a tremendous rate, leaping and seething like a cataract. The miners have constructed a portage road on the west side, and put down rollways in some places on which to shove their boats over. They have also made some windlasses with which to haul their boats uphill, notably one at the foot of the Cañon. This roadway and the windlasses must have cost them many hours of hard labour.

Lake Labarge was reached on the evening of the 26th of July, and our camp pitched on its southern shore. The lake is thirty-one miles in length, broad at both ends and narrow in the middle, lying north and south, like a long slender foot-print made by some gigantic Titan in long-bygone days.

As the prevailing wind blows almost constantly down the lake, the miners complain much of the detention from the roughness of the water, and for the three days I was on the lake, I certainly cannot complain of any lack of attention from blustering Australis.

The survey was carried along the western shore, which is irregular in shape, being indented by large, shallow bays, especially at the upper and lower ends.

Just above where the lake narrows in the middle, there is a large island, which is shown on Schwatka’s map as a peninsula, and called by him Richtofen Rocks. How he came to think it a peninsula I cannot understand, as it is well out in the lake; the nearest point of it to the western shore is upwards of half a mile distant, and the extreme width of the lake here, as determined from triangulation, is not more than five miles, which includes the depth of the deepest bays on the western side. It is therefore difficult to understand that he did not see it as an island. The upper half of this island is gravelly, and does not rise very high above the lake; the lower end is rocky and high, the rock of a bright red colour and probably granite.

At the lower end of the lake there is a deep wide valley extending northwards, which has evidently at one time been the outlet of the lake. In this the mixed timber, poplar, and spruce, is of a size which betokens a fair soil; the herbage, too, is more than usually rich for this region. This valley, which Dr. Dawson has named “Ogilvie Valley,” is extensive, and if ever required as an aid to the sustenance of our people, will figure largely in the district’s agricultural assets.

We left this, the last lake of the great chain, behind us on Saturday, the 30th of July, and proceeded with a moderate current of about four miles an hour. The river just here is crooked and runs past high, steep banks surmounted by scrub pine and stunted poplar which shut in the narrow valley. There are, however, many flats of moderate extent, along the river and at its confluence with other streams, where the soil is fair.

The waters of the Big Salmon are sluggish and slow. The valley, as seen from the mouth, is wide, and gives one the impression of being occupied by a much more important stream. Looking up it, in the distance could be seen many high peaks covered with snow, and, as this was in the beginning of August, it is likely they are always covered so—which would make their probable altitude above the river, five thousand feet or more.

Two days’ run, or about thirty-six miles, the river constantly winding low, sandy points, and dotted with small, well-timbered islands, brought us to the Little Salmon (Daly of Schwatka), a small and unimportant stream entering upon the east. One of the most remarkable objects along the river, located just below the Little Salmon, is a huge hemisphere of rock, called the “Eagle’s Nest,” rising abruptly from a gravel slope on the east bank, to a height of about five hundred feet. It is of a light grey colour, but what the character of the rock is I could not determine, as I saw it only from the river, which is about a quarter of a mile distant.

We passed the mouth of the Nordenskiold on the 9th of August. The river here makes a loop of eight miles round a hill on the east bank named by Schwatka, Tantalus Butte. The distance across from point to point is only half a mile.

Early the next day we heard the booming of the Rink Rapids in the distance, and it was not long before they were in sight. These rapids are known to miners as Five Finger Rapids, from the fact that five large, bold masses of rock stand in mid-channel. This obstruction backs up the water so as to raise it about a foot, causing a swell below for a few yards.

Six miles below Rink Rapids are what are known as “Little Rapids.” This is simply a barrier of rocks which extends from the westerly side of the river about half-way across. Over this barrier there is a ripple which would offer no great obstacle to the descent in a good canoe.

About five miles above Pelly River there is another lake-like expanse filled with islands. The river here is nearly a mile wide, and so numerous and close are the islands that it is impossible to tell where the shores of the river are. The current, too, is swift, leading one to suppose the water shallow; but I think that even here a channel deep enough for such boats as will navigate this part of the river, could easily be found. Schwatka named this group “Ingersoll Islands.”

About a mile below the junction with the Lewes, and on the south side, stands all that remains of the only permanent trading-post ever built by white men in the district. This post was established by Robert Campbell, for the Hudson’s Bay Company, in the summer of 1848. It was built upon the point of land between the two rivers, but this location proving untenable, on account of flooding by ice-jams in the spring, it was, in the season of 1852, moved across the river to where the ruins now stand. It appears that the houses composing the post were not finished when the Indians from the coast on Chilkat and Chilkoot Inlets, came down the river to put a stop to the competitive trade which Mr. Campbell had inaugurated and which they found to seriously interfere with their profits. Their method of trade appears to have been then pretty much as it is now—very one-sided. What they found convenient to take by force, they took; and what they found convenient to pay for, they paid for—at their own price.

Rumours had reached the post that the coast Indians contemplated a raid, and, in consequence, the friendly Indians in the vicinity remained about nearly all summer. Unfortunately, they went away for a short time, and, during their absence, the coast Indians arrived and pillaged the place, and set fire to it, leaving nothing but the remains of two chimneys, which are still standing. This raid and capture took place on Sunday, the 1st of August, 1852. Mr. Campbell was ordered to leave the country within twenty-four hours, and accordingly he dropped down the river. On his way he met some of the local Indians, and returned with them, but the robbers had made their escape. Mr. Campbell went on down the river until he met the outfit for his post on its way up from Fort Yukon. He turned it back. He then ascended the Pelly, crossed to the Liard, and reached Fort Simpson, on the Mackenzie, late in October.

Nothing more was ever done in the vicinity of Fort Selkirk by the Hudson’s Bay Company after these events, and in 1869 the company was ordered by Capt. Chas. W. Raymond, who represented the United States Government, to evacuate the post at Fort Yukon, which he had ascertained to be west of the 141st meridian. The post was occupied by the company, however, for some time after the receipt of the order, until Rampart House, which was intended to be on British territory, and to take the trade previously done at Fort Yukon, was built. Under present conditions the company cannot very well compete with the Alaska Fur Company, whose agents do the only trade in the district, and they appear to have abandoned—for the present at least—all attempts to do any trade nearer to it than Rampart House, to which point, notwithstanding the distance and difficulties in the way, many of the Indians on the Pelly-Yukon make a trip every two or three years to procure goods in exchange for their furs.

On the 19th I resumed my journey northwards. Opposite Fort Selkirk, the Pelly-Yukon River is about one-third of a mile broad; and it maintains this width down to White River, a distance of ninety-six miles. Islands are numerous, so much so that there are few parts of the river where one or more are not in sight; many of them are of considerable size, and nearly all are well timbered.

Between Stewart and White Rivers the river spreads out to a mile and upwards in width, and is a maze of islands and bars. Stewart River, which was reached on the following day, enters from the east in the middle of a wide valley, with low hills on both sides, rising on the north side in clearly marked steps or terraces to distant hills of considerable height. The river, a short distance up, is two hundred yards in width, the current slack, the water shallow and clear, but dark-coloured; while at the mouth, I was fortunate enough to meet a miner, named McDonald, who had spent the whole of the summer of 1887 on the river and its branches, prospecting and exploring. He gave me a good deal of information, which I have incorporated in my map of the district. This man had ascended two of the main branches of the river. At the head of one of them he found a large lake, which he named Mayhew Lake. On the other branch he found falls, which he estimated to be from one to two hundred feet in height. McDonald went on past the falls to the head of this branch, and found terraced gravel hills to the west and north; he crossed them to the north and found a river flowing northwards. On this he embarked on a raft, and floated down it for a day or two, thinking it would turn to the west and join the Stewart, but finding it still continuing north, and acquiring too much volume to be any of the branches he had seen while passing up the Stewart, he returned to his point of departure, and after prospecting among the hills around the head of the river he started westwards, crossing a high range of mountains composed principally of shales with many thin seams of what is called quartz, ranging from one to six inches in thickness. On the west side of this range he found the head-waters of Beaver River, which he descended on a raft, taking five days to do so.

It is probable the river flowing northwards, on which he made a journey and returned, is a branch of Peel River. The timber on the gravel terraces of the water-shed, he described as small and open. He was alone in this unknown wilderness all summer, not seeing even any of the natives. There are few men, I think, so constituted as to be capable of isolating themselves in such a manner.

On the 1st of September, we passed the site of the temporary trading-post shown on the maps as Fort Reliance. Several days of continuous rain now interrupted our work so that Forty Mile River (Cone Hill River of Schwatka) was not reached till the 7th of September.