Chapter 4 Chapter 4: Annoying Neighbors

The city of Vancouver is not at all on the Big Island of the same name.It occupies a point on a long peninsula jutting out of the coast of Columbia, and is no more than a large city.Victoria, the capital of British Columbia, is built exactly on the southeast coast of the island and has 16,000 residents.There is another city on the island, Westminster, with 10,000 inhabitants. Vancouver sits on the crooked Juan-Anchor anchorage through the Strait of Fuca, which stretches northwest.Behind the anchorage, the bell tower of a small church was revealed among the thick branches of pine and cypress, but the tall tower of another church was hidden.

After passing through the southern part of the island, the canal skirts the highlands to the east and north.It can be seen that ships from the Pacific Ocean have easy access to the Port of Vancouver, traveling south along the Canadian coastline, or northward along the American coastline. Did the founders of the City of Vancouver have too much foresight?One thing is certain: the city can accommodate 100,000 residents, and those residents can still walk easily and briskly on one of the recently constructed streets among the streets planned at right angles.There are churches and hotels in the city, lit with gas and electricity, and several bridges have been built over the small bays of False Bay.The city owns a 380-hectare park in the northwest of the peninsula.

Sammy Skinner and Ben Rado left the train station and drove to the Westminster Hotel.They're going to live here until the day they go to the Klondike. It's really not easy to find a place to stay in this overcrowded hotel.Every 24 hours, 1,200 migrants arrive by train and ship.It's not hard to imagine the benefits the city has reaped.Especially those citizens who volunteered to take on the reception task, they sold the immigrants sometimes even more unbelievable food at unbelievably high prices.Undoubtedly, the shorter the stay of Vancouver's floating population the better, all these adventurous people eager to go to the places where the gold is produced, and gold attracts them like a magnet.However, there must be a way to go.Many ships going north often have no vacant places after berthing in many ports in Mexico and the United States.

There are two ways to go from Vancouver to the Klondike.One runs from the Pacific Ocean along the west coast of Alaska to find the mouth of the Yukon River at St. Michelle, and then goes upstream to Dawson City.The other is by sea from Vancouver to Skagway, and from there by land to the capital of the Klondike.Which path will Ben Rado choose? Sammy Skin's first question when the brothers entered the room was: "How long are we staying in Vancouver, dear Ben?" "Only for a few days," Ben Rado replied. "I don't think the 'Football' will arrive in a few days."

"'Football' is fine, too," said Sark. "What is 'Football'?" "It's a Canadian Pacific ship. Let's take this ship to Skagway. I'm going to book two cabins today." "So, Ben, you made a choice between the different routes to the Klondike?" "Sammy, the choice has been indicated. We will take the route most people take, the steamer follows the coast of Columbia, weaving from island to island, and we will arrive in Skagway without fatigue. This time of year, the Yukon The bed of the river is still full of ice, and ships often capsize, or, at least, are held up in the midst of it, until July. On the contrary, the 'Football' takes only a week to reach Skagway, Or Day. It is true that after disembarking we have to go over the rather steep slopes of the Chilcoot or White Valley hills. But after that, half by land and half by water on the lake, we shall have no trouble. Arrive at the Yukon River, and then take the boat to Dawson City. I estimate that we can reach the destination before June, that is, when the good season begins. At present, we can only wait patiently for the arrival of the "Football"."

"Where did this ship with the sporting name come from?" asked Sammy Skin. "From Skagway to be precise, as it travels regularly between Vancouver and the city. Arrived here by the 14th of this month at the latest." "Not until the 14th!" Sammy yelled. "Ha! Ha!" Ben Rado said with a smile, "You are more anxious than I am!" "Of course," Sammy agreed. "Anyway, go early and come back early!" During their stay in Vancouver, not much happened to the two brothers.They didn't need to replenish their equipment, or purchase the materials needed to develop a plot, because they could find Uncle Josias's things locally.They enjoyed the same comfortable living conditions on the "Football" as on the train.After arriving in Skagway, Ben Rado had to pay special attention to the transportation to Dawson City.Then he would try to get a detachable boat for a voyage on the lake, and a team of dogs to pull the sled, which was the only proper form of traction on the snow-covered plains of the far north, unless he thought it best to go with him. Talk to the head of the general transportation workers, and they will be responsible for sending the two brothers to Dawson City.Obviously, the cost of travel in neither case would be too high.But wouldn't it take a nice nugget or two to recover and exceed the money spent?

Besides, the town was bustling with travelers, although the brothers had nothing to do.They are not alone for a moment.It doesn't matter much when trains arrive from the Dominion East or from the United States; it doesn't matter much when thousands of passengers keep disembarking from ships.Thousands of people waiting to go to Skagway roamed the streets, most of whom had to huddle in various corners of the harbor or under thick wooden cabinets on the electric-lit docks. Among these shoulder-to-shoulder throngs of homeless adventurers attracted by the Klondike's miraculous apparitions, the police were not idle.At every step you come across these policemen in gray uniforms the color of dead leaves, ready to stop an endless row that could easily turn bloody.

Of course, these police officers carry out their often dangerous and always difficult tasks with all the enthusiasm and courage necessary in this immigrant world.People of all social classes collided with each other in the immigration, especially the countless lowest residents.But how could it not have occurred to the police that washing mud in the tributaries of the Yukon would bring them more benefit and less danger?How could they not have thought that those 5 Canadian policemen brought back $200,000 in proceeds from Klondike when it was just getting started?They didn't swoon like so many others, and their work ethic should be commended.

Sammy Skin learned from the newspapers: In the Klondike, winter temperatures sometimes drop to minus 60 degrees Celsius.At first, he didn't believe it at all. When he saw a few thermometers in an optical instrument dealer in the city, the scales were all the way to minus 90 degrees, which aroused his thinking. "Hmph," he murmured to himself, to no avail, "it's a matter of self-esteem...Minus 90 degrees! . . . The Klondikes are proud of the unusually cold place, and they show off and exaggerate!" Still, Sammy Skin was uneasy.He finally decided to step over the threshold of the store and take a closer look at the disturbing thermometers.

The few thermometers the shopkeeper introduced to him in different styles had a Celsius scale instead of a Fahrenheit scale.The Dominion, influenced by the French custom, mainly uses Celsius, and the British use Fahrenheit. After looking at the thermometer, Sammy Skin had to admit that he was right.These thermometers are really made to measure such extreme temperatures. "Are these thermometers carefully crafted?" Sammy Skin was at a loss for words. "Of course, sir," replied the innkeeper, "I think you will be satisfied." "At least not in the daytime, when it doesn't mean minus sixty degrees," Sammy Skinn announced in his most serious voice.

"Well," replied the shopkeeper, "the point is to be accurate." "That's an opinion, sir. Tell me, though," said Sammy Skinn, "I think you've got these instruments in your window for advertising? I don't think in practice—" "what?" "...the mercury column can drop to minus 60 degrees." "Often," said the shopkeeper excitedly and with certainty, "often, or even less." "Lower!" "Why not?" replied the shopkeeper proudly, "If sir wants a thermometer with a scale down to minus 100 degrees..." "Thanks...thanks," said a terrified Sammy Skin hastily, "I think minus 60 degrees would be enough!" Besides, what's the use of buying a thermometer?When the eyelids are blown red by the cold north wind, and the eyes are burning with pain, when the exhaled breath turns into frost, when the half-frozen blood is about to stagnate in the blood vessels, when the metal fingers are touched, a layer will be sticky When the skin is cold, it is also freezing in front of the hottest stove (the fire seems to have lost all its heat), and honestly, it doesn't matter whether the cold that freezes you to death is minus 60 degrees or 100 degrees . Days passed, and Ben Rado couldn't hide his anxiety. Did the "Football" delay its voyage at sea?We know that it left Skagway on April 7th, and the voyage did not exceed 6 days. On the 13th, it could see Vancouver. This ship transports migrants and their belongings, not cargo of any kind.It only stays for a short time, 24 hours, up to 36 hours, to clean the boilers, replenish coal and fresh water, and let hundreds of passengers who have reserved places on board board. As for those who did not book a seat, they had to take other ships after the "Football".Today, the hotels in Vancouver can no longer accommodate so many people.Many families live on the streets. Think about their future poverty from their current poverty! Nor would most of these poor people be any more comfortable on the steamer that carried them from Vancouver to Skagway, where the long, gruesome journey to Dawson City began.There were just enough cabins fore and aft of the ship for the wealthiest of passengers, and families were crammed into the steerage to be self-sufficient during a six or seven day voyage.As for the majority, they agreed to be kept in the hold like cattle, like cargo.However, to be honest, it was better than staying on deck.Those on deck endure all kinds of inclement weather: icy winds and the blizzards that are common in these regions near the Arctic Circle. Vancouver is not only crowded with immigrants from all parts of the world, old and new, but also hundreds of miners who do not want to spend the winter in the ice cellar of Dawson City. In winter, it is impossible to continue the mining work of the plot.When the ground was covered with 10 to 12 feet of snow, and this thick snow was frozen by the cold of 40 to 50 degrees below zero, and became as hard as granite, and the pickaxes broke off, all work was stopped. So capable prospectors, and to some extent the lucky ones, like to go back to Columbia's major cities.These people have gold to spend, and they spend it with unimaginable generosity.They were convinced that their luck would continue, that the next season would be fruitful, that new deposits would be found, and gold nuggets would fall into their hands.The best rooms in hotels and the best cabins on ships are for them. Sammy Skine soon discovered that the toughest, roughest, loudest people were among these miners, who took all the excesses in casinos and filthy places, because their hands If you have money, speak with the tone of a master. To be honest, good Sammy Skinn didn't pay much attention to these scum.He thought he had nothing in common with these incredible adventurers (he might be wrong), and he listened casually to what was said about them and then forgot. On the morning of April 14, he and Ben Rado were walking on the pier when they heard the whistle of a ship. "Is the 'football' coming?" Sammy yelled. "I don't think so," Ben Rado replied. "The whistle is coming from the south, and the 'Football' should be coming from the north." Sure enough, it was a steamer going north up the Juan de Fuca Strait through the port of Vancouver, so it couldn't have come from Skagway. However, Ben Rado and Sammy Skin, who had nothing to do, still walked through the dense crowd to the end of the embankment. The arrival of a ship always attracted many people.Moreover, there are several hundred passengers disembarking for possible boarding on ships operating in the north.It was a bizarre scene. Blowing the loud siren is the "Smith", a 2,500-ton ship.It departed from the port of Acapulco in Mexico and stopped at all the piers on the shore.It mainly serves offshore and will head south again after dropping off passengers in Vancouver.These travelers will increase congestion in the city. As soon as the "Smith" touched the floating pier, the passengers flocked to the port door with the same movement.People and things are in a mess, and to be honest, no one can think about it. At any rate, one traveler didn't see it that way.He went on a rampage like crazy, rushing to get off the boat first.Presumably this person is an old hand who knows how important it is to check in at the office going up north before anyone else does.He was a tall, stocky, brutish young man with a bushy black beard, a tanned skin typical of southerners, a hard eye, and a fierce, unapproachable appearance.He was accompanied by another traveler, outwardly of the same race as he, who seemed no more patient or accessible than himself. The others were probably as anxious as the intrusive, rowdy traveler.However, it is impossible to surpass this demon-possessed person.He elbowed those around him, disobedient to the orders of the captain and the ship's officers; he shoved those around him, and at the same time he abused them in a hoarse voice, which made the insults all the more vicious, half of which were in English , half in Spanish. "My God!" exclaimed Sammy Skin, "this is a man who might be called a pleasant fellow-traveler, and if he goes on the 'Football' . . . " "Hmph! The voyage is only a few days," Ben Rado replied. "We can deal with him, or keep him away." At this moment, a spectator beside the two brothers shouted: "Hey! It's bloody Hunter. If he doesn't leave Vancouver today, he's going to have another row at the casino tonight!" "Look, Ben," Sammy said to his cousin, "I'm not mistaken. The guy's a famous person." "Yes," agreed Ben, "he's famous..." "Not a good reputation!" "Certainly not," Ben Rado explained. "He was one of those adventurers who go to America to spend the bad season and return to the Klondike when the weather is better to start a new productive season." Indeed, Hunter is from his hometown of Texas. He and his companions arrived in Vancouver today just to take the first ship out of Hong Kong and continue northward.Their workers were of mixed Spanish and American descent, and in a world of gold-diggers they found a fit for their ferocious instincts, rebellious customs, savage desires and an interest in a life of irregularity and chance. Space. Hunter learned that the "Football" had not arrived at port, and deduced from various possibilities that she would not return to sea within 36 hours or 48 hours.Hunter drove to the Westminster Hotel where the two brothers stayed six days ago.Sammy met him face to face, face to face, as he entered the hotel lobby. "It's a bet, no doubt," Sammy muttered between his teeth. The encounter with this pathetic figure had left an uncomfortable impression on him, which he tried unsuccessfully to erase.He told himself that Hunter and he were lost in the mass of emigrants, that the chances of meeting him again were rare; but something forced the man on his mind.Almost unconsciously, as if driven by some kind of foreboding, he came to the hotel office two hours later, trying to get some information about the man. "Hunter?" Someone answered him, "Who doesn't know him?" "Is he the master of a plot?" "Yes, he runs a plot by himself." "Where is this plot?" "In the Klondike." "Be more accurate?" "On the Forty Mile River." "Forty Mile River," repeated Sammy, startled, "that's really odd. Pity I don't know the number of his lot. I'll bet . . . " "This number," said the person Sammy spoke to, "everyone in Vancouver can tell you." "how many?……" "Number 131." "Damn it!" exclaimed Sammy, in a daze. "We're No. 129! We're neighbors to this delightful gentleman. We're a sight to behold." Sammy Skinn wondered if he was right.