Stanley Pearce and Marshall Bond were in Seattle, Washington, when it happened. On July 17, 1897, sixty-eight rugged miners stepped off the S.S. Portland steamship and made their way through the excited crowd. They were carrying large sacks filled with the most precious metal in the world—gold.
Stanley Pearce described the scene this way: “Thousands of people in the public square watched the weather-beaten and hardy adventurers stagger into the express office with sacks of gold, gold in blankets, in oil cans, and even in moccasins.”
Together, these miners brought back an astounding four thousand pounds of gold. It was worth nearly one million dollars, which, by today’s standards, would be many times that amount. Three days earlier, miners on another ship, the S.S. Excelsior, had arrived in San Francisco with large quantities of gold as well. Both groups of miners had found their gold in the same place: the Klondike region of northern Canada. Soon these discoveries would make headlines around the world.
In a matter of hours, many Seattle residents began planning their own trips to the goldfields. At a time when many Americans were either out of work or earning low wages, the prospect of striking it rich proved irresistible. Firemen, doctors, lawyers, ministers—and even the mayor of Seattle—quit their jobs and joined the rush.
“By the afternoon,” Pearce wrote, “every man who could raise the necessary funds for a year’s grub stake was rushing to the grocers, hardware merchants and clothiers to get together the necessary outfit to start by the next boat for the promised land, where the dreams of all should be realized.”
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Staking a Claim
When prospectors found a promising spot, they staked a claim by placing posts at each corner, one with their name and date on it. The prospector then had three days to go to town and file a legal claim. Because the claims were usually measured by crude means, disagreements over exact boundaries were common.
The first claim in a new location was called the “discovery claim.” Subsequent claims were legally referred to by their relationship to this claim, along with the name of the creek—5 Above Eldorado, or 6 Below Bonanza, for example.
—Museum at the Klondike Gold Rush National Historical Park—Seattle.
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Game of Claim Selling.
We have received vague rumors about the expected rush here in the spring and we all wonder whether there will be such an enormous crowd as reported. What under the sun they will do is more than any of us can tell. Everything in the country is staked and there certainly won’t be employment for all hands, as there is not enough for those here already.
Men are busily engaged on schemes to fleece the unsuspecting Cheecakos out of their tenderfoot money, and I am afraid many of them will work.
Perhaps the name Cheecako is not understood by some in Denver, but it is the Saguache name for greenhorn, or newcomer. We “old-timers” are called “sour doughs,” as it is supposed to be part of our education to know how to make sour dough bread.
Typical Klondike Stampede
A story of the recent stampede to Swede creek is typical of Dawson life. I was awakened at 1 o’clock in the morning by my partner, Bond, who in a mysterious voice told me to “hurry up, dress and come.” “Come where,” said I. “Don’t say a word but come,” said he. “How far?” No answer. “Take any grub?” No answer. So I gave it up and came. Slipping a change of socks and moccasins into my knapsack, together with some hard tack, and belting on my hand ax we started in pitch darkness. We reached Tammany dance hall, where there was an unusual bustle and excitement. I was still half asleep and uncertain whether it was a dream or not. Finally we started up the river. There were about 50 in the party, including four or five dance hall girls. It was inky dark and the river trail has been freshly blown over with snow. We have to go up the river and cross it three times. Soon there was trouble. Men and women were off the trail and up to their necks in snow. Finally some one produced a candle and I volunteered to lead the procession, having had experience carrying a candle underground, I therefore had the novel experience of leading a stampede six miles up the Yukon by candle light. Our party of four was one of the first to arrive. We staked by candle light and started home, arriving at Dawson about 9 a.m., having made about 30 miles since 2 o’clock in the morning. Since our staking on Swede creek, in which I got claim number 20, they have staked as high as No. 750 or about 30 miles above my claim, but I haven’t yet found out why we went or what caused that stampede.
Other stampedes are on very much the same order. This, however, is the only midnight stampede on record. Quite a number regretted going to Swede creek on that trip. At least six men had their feet frozen, and two men died in the hospital from pneumonia. They were careless and did not take proper care of themselves…
Excerpted from Call of the Klondike by David Meissner and Kim Richardson, published by Calkins Creek.
