Bear, which was among the first to arrive at Nome. The Santa Anna had had a fearful time of it, having been afire in the hold for four days, reaching Dutch Harbor, however, with no lives lost, but with all baggage destroyed.

Naturally, every one was keen to be ashore and to stroll about the island, meeting friends who had come on other vessels. Everything was "wide open." Hastily-erected saloons and gambling devices of all kinds were doing a flourishing business, patronized indiscriminately by the sexes; and there was a large run on the stores for candies and sweets generally. I trustingly gave to one of the most intelligent-looking native women some soiled clothes to wash. When returned they were scarcely recognizable, but she insisted that they belonged to me. People were almost universally complaining about the over-crowding on their ships and the poor food, so much so that we of the Lane began to believe that we were living strictly en prince. Some of the horses which had been taken ashore were in a pitifully cut-up condition, but nearly all that I saw at Nome were splendid-looking animals. Base-ball matches between nines picked from the various ships were held, with the usual ensuing umpire difficulties. After a while, however, the novelty of the thing wore away. Under the leadership of a certain "judge," prominent in the organization of townships in Oklahoma, a party of us from the Lane, half in jest and half seriously, staked out, pursuant to law, a town site to be known as "Lane City," and drew lots for our respective real-estate holdings. This move seemed to create some little stir, and there appeared many who wished to secure a lot in the new metropolis. I believe that I am still the town recorder; but it will be very strange indeed if the law will suffer such transient guests thus to create, and in absence maintain, a town site, and the more especially so when others claim the ownership of the property. As a matter of fact, Dutch Harbor will very probably become an important station in the Philippine and Asiatic trade of this country; and General Randall, in a recent report, has strongly recommended the government acquisition of land there for commercial and outfitting purposes.

The weather had been somewhat misty and chilly, with only occasional gleams of sunshine. It was not disagreeable, however, and at times was very pleasant. The ships were daily setting out for the North, and the Lane was delaying with a number of others, awaiting the advent of an expected collier. There were excitement and curiosity, indeed, when the Cleveland came in, the first large vessel to discharge passengers and freight at Nome and to return for a second trip. Adventurous, she had taken advantage of a lucky break in the ice, and had safely gotten through and reached her destination. The dock was crowded with people seeking interviews with those returning on the Cleveland. The latter were, for the most part, a poor-looking collection, who told dire and terrible tales of the Nome "fake" and of the lawlessness and crime existing there. They said that the beach had been exhausted of its gold, and that people were leaving for home as quickly as the steamers would take them or they could scrape up enough money to pay their passage. To those especially who were relying upon getting ready money from the beach this news was not reassuring.

On June 17 the Lane withdrew from Dutch Harbor and headed up into Bering Sea. Whales were frequently seen, sometimes very close to the ship, and we occasionally skirted around fields of ice. A matter about which we particularly wished to know, and regarding which the testimony of experts was sharply conflicting, was just what kind of a climate is that of the Nome country. Some said that it was chilly and that it rained all the while, and that rubber boots and oilskins were always essential; a former whaling captain, with whom I could talk New Bedford, said that frequently during the middle of the day the sun was so hot as to be almost unbearable. But as to knowing anything at that time, the weather proposition was a gamble. Since the coming of the Cleveland there could be detected among the "syndicate" a certain lack of enthusiasm, as evidenced by a few chance remarks about the comforts of home, and a less sprightly step and challenging eye. But, generally, on nearing the destination, the crowd aboard ship were in good spirits, though, naturally, somewhat more serious. It was now practically perpetual daylight.

The first sight of Nome City, as we steamed toward the place in the clear morning light of June 20, was impressive. It was indeed a "white city," tents, tents, tents extending along the shore almost as far as the eye could see. Scattered in the denser and more congested part of the town were large frame and galvanized-iron structures, the warehouses and stores of the large companies; and there was the much-talked-of tundra, upon which the multitude were encamped, extending back almost from the edge of the sea three or four miles to the high and rolling hills, which bore an occasional streak of snow. Not a tree, not a bit of foliage, nothing green, was in evidence. Had it not been for the chance discovery of gold in that remote spot, one passing along the coast would have considered it barren and forlorn, "a dreary waste expanding to the skies." There is not even the semblance of a harbor. It is a mere shallow roadstead open to the clear sweep and attack of the Bering Sea. Anchored from one to two miles from the shore were strung along, I may say, scores of nondescript steamers and sailing-craft, with here and there a tug towing ashore lighters filled with passengers or freight, or bringing them back empty. These tugs were so few that they could command almost any price for a day's use, and proved veritable gold-mines to their owners. When the sea is at all rough no disembarking can be done. We were in great good luck to have at that time an unprecedented spell of clear weather and calm seas, which tended to lessen the confusion and misery, which were, even under those favorable conditions, only too great.

Well, here we were finally and at last, and now to face the music! Bundled into scows, passengers were towed by the light-draft boats to within some thirty feet of the shore, and then the scows were allowed to drift in upon the moderate but wetting surf. Women were carried ashore on the backs of men who waded out to the lighters; and the men, for the most part, completed the remaining distance in their rubber boots, or got wet, or imposed upon the back and good nature of some accommodating person.

II

THE HYBRID CITY OF NOME

he town forms dense right at the shore, extending back and along upon damp and muddy soil hitherto covered by the deep and marshy moss. The Snake River, a sluggish, unnavigable stream, coming from the back-lying hills and through the tundra, empties into the sea where the town tapers off at the north, and thereby forms a sand-spit.

The first impressions after landing were those of confusion, waste, and filth. The shore was an indescribable mass of machinery, lumber, and freight of all kinds, the greater