claims staked out and between 2,000 and 3,000 people. We can safely say that there was $1,500,000 in gold mined last winter. Wages in mines were $15 a day, and the sawmill paid laborers $10 a day with claims now staked, but will afford employment for about 5,000, I believe. If a man is strong and healthy and wants to work he can find employment at good wages. Several men worked on an interest, or what is termed a lay, and during the winter realized from $5,000 to $10,000. The mines are from 35 to 100 miles from Alaska boundary."

J. Kellar, who pronounced it the richest gold country in the world, said:

"It was 68 degrees below zero last winter, and the ground was frozen to the depth of forty feet. The snow doesn't fall to any great depth, three feet being the greatest, and that was light and fleecy frost. All the gold is taken out of gravel by thawing in the summer. There are nine months of winter. We left Dawson City on a river steamer on June 19, and were eight days reaching St. Michael's, 1,800 miles. The weather in Klondyke was warm and sultry, much warmer than it seemed, and mosquitos were in myriads. They are in the water one drinks. They give a man no rest day or night. I am satisfied to stay away from Klondyke, although I did well.

"It is a horrible country to live in, but it is extremely healthy. Every man is on his good behavior, and, for a mining country, has as good, orderly, law-abiding citizens as I ever saw. At present there is no prospecting going on, all men in the country being employed at $12 or $15 a day, or are working on their own claims. There is a big country open to prospectors."

Tom Cochrane, a grocery clerk, staked one of the Klondyke miners with $300 worth of supplies eighteen months ago. His dividend received on the Portland was $41,000.

Victor Lord, a western Washington logger, spent four years in the Yukon. He made $10,000 last winter in six weeks on the Klondyke, working a claim on shares. He will return after spending the summer here. Alexander Menzie, of Arizona, was a miner before he went into the Klondyke this spring. He located two claims on Indian Creek, and after three weeks' work brought out $7,000. "I have mined for thirty years in California, Arizona and Nevada," he said to-night. "The Klondyke country is richer than any placer district in the world. I own two claims on Indian Creek and will return in the spring in time to sled over the mountains into Klondyke from Dyea."

Harry Olson received $60,000 for his interest in a claim on Eldorado. His wealth is in sacks, like that of the others. He is a California farmer, and left for his old home, from which he departed three years ago.

The miners left Dawson City June 19 and were seven days on the trip by steamer down the Yukon to St. Michael's. After another week's rest they sailed on July 3 on the steamship Portland.

Inspector Strickland says that complete order is maintained in the camp by the Canadian mounted police. Little disorder prevails, but this may have changed since the departure of the Portland party, as the Alaska Commercial Company sent 10,000 gallons of whiskey into the camp on June 1.

There is a great scarcity of lumber and the single sawmill is kept busy day and night supplying the camp with lumber. The camp is a typical specimen of the frontier mining village, without regular streets. It straggles up the Klondyke for three miles, and then the houses are found at intervals of a quarter of a mile.

THE STAMPEDE FOR THE GOLD.

THOUSANDS JOIN THE EXODUS.

To say that the news from the north brought by passengers of the Excelsior and confirmed by those of the Portland swept over the Pacific coast with the rapidity of a prairie fire would be to make use of an inadequate simile. In less than forty-eight hours hundreds were busy arranging their affairs so as to depart by the first steamer for the new Eldorado. On the 18th of July, only four days after the arrival of the Excelsior, the offices of the Alaska Commercial Company in San Francisco were besieged by men, and even women, all anxious to secure a passage, and on the same day it was stated by an officer of the company that their steamers would not be able to carry one-tenth of those desirous of starting from that port alone. The same official estimated that before the end of the month the number of those who would set out from San Francisco would reach fully 5,000. Hundreds with means sufficient to buy tickets and outfits fairly tumbled over each other to secure these. Others sought capital by offering one-half their winnings to those who would stake them. Syndicates were speedily formed, "grub stakes" offered and parties of tens, twenties and even hundreds organized for the venture. The reported danger of famine, even the warnings of returned miners seemed to deter no one.

While such was the craze in San Francisco, the excitement was no less in Seattle, Tacoma, Portland and all along the Pacific coast. Nor did it end here. The same excitement swept Eastward and prevailed to a greater or less extent everywhere. The press of the county gave publicity to every scrap of news, corps of correspondents were organized and "hurried to the front," and even the "special artist on the spot" was not "left out in the cold," whatever he may suffer when he reaches a latitude where the mercury coquettes with the 80s. and 90s. below zero. All sorts of advertisements from all sorts of people, offering almost any terms and conditions to a backer, appeared, and, as we write, are still appearing in the daily papers. The one subject of conversation in the swell clubs, no less than on the street corners, is the news from Alaska, and the region of the Klondyke and the Yukon River have suddenly become as familiar geographical designations as Brooklyn or the Hudson.

Perhaps no more reliable authority could be given as to the great resources of the Klondyke and the excitement prevailing in and about that region than Capt. Francis Tuttle, commander of the revenue cutter Bear. Writing to a friend in New York from St. Michael's on the Yukon River, the Captain says:

"The days of '49 in California are a mere side show compared with the excitement in the Yukon country. Imagine my astonishment on reaching here yesterday to run across a man who, last September, was discharged as a deck hand from a steamer on Puget Sound. The fellow made his way into Alaska, worked seven months on the Klondyke and has now reached St. Michael's with $150,000 in gold. I could hardly believe my senses, but there was his gold, sure enough.

"As I write St. Michael's is full of miners awaiting an opportunity to get down to Puget Sound and to California. Nearly every other man of them has $50,000 worth of dust, and there is not a man here with less than $15,000. The latter are referred to as 'poor fellows' who have been hard hit with bad luck, and it seems to be real sympathy that the more fortunate ones show for these $15,000 fellows.

"The deck hand, with his $150,000, had the largest amount of gold of any one in the crowd. The whole business is almost incredible, yet one must believe what he sees.

"It is enough to turn the mind of any person, and particularly when one learns with what comparative ease this gold is mined."

As we write several steamers having already departed from various Pacific ports, are on their way to the Yukon, all freighted to their fullest capacity with gold hunters, provisions and mining outfits. Others are following as rapidly as they can be outfitted, and scarcely a seaworthy craft available for the purpose can be found that has not already been brought into requisition.

This stream of humanity that has suddenly turned northward and is being constantly swollen as it proceeds on its way is made up of all classes