All the gold bearing creeks are on the east side of the lake and cover an area approximately the size of Greater Vancouver and North Vancouver combined. The camp was discovered during the height of the Klondike gold rush in the fall of '98 by a man named Fritz Miller, but it was not the first time Miller had visited this same district. He had prospected some of the creeks in '96, but although he found traces of gold on two creeks he didn't find it worth while. But late in August, '98 he made a rich strike on Pine Creek, which empties into Atlin Lake, two miles south of where the town was later established.
The fact that the whole of the north was over-run with stampeders gave the new strike at Atlin a tremendous impetus. Many gold-seekers who had already spent 14 months on the trail from Edmonton, and others who had entered by Wrangell and the Stikine River, gave up the long dangerous trip down Yukon River and headed for the new camp, so much closer.
The spring of '99 found several thousand men who had entered by the American port of Skagway, turning off for Atlin at Log Cabin on the White Pass & Yukon Railway, and mushing it over ice and snow a distance of 60 miles. When the two lakes of
Taku and Atlin opened for navigation, two stern-wheel steamers - the Galena [sic: Gleaner] on Taku Lake, and the Scotia on Atlin Lake - handled all freight and passengers.
In '99 there was great activity on five creeks, Boulder, Willow, Pine, Spruce and McKee. The most sensational for a short time at least was Willow Creek, a small one which emptied into Pine Creek. The benches of Willow Creek were low and flat, probably in no place more than eight feet above water level.
It was only at the mouth of Willow Creek that any gold was found at that time. Bedrock protruded on all sides, and soil was shallow. The lucky owners of some of these claims were to be seen at first just pulling the tundra back with their bare hands and exposing thousands of dollars' worth of nuggets and coarse gold, a veritable miner's
dream. Naturally this creek did not take long to work out, few claims involving more than
three of four feet of digging, some much less.
Pine Creek was entirely another affair, and though it yielded several million dollars' worth of gold, it took hard toiling to obtain it.
Miners 50 years ago had to make their own pumps right on the ground, and as most of these were crude affairs, many men worked in water coming straight from some glacier, often at a depth over their gum boots.
Some bench claims on Pine Creek were extremely rich, but as benches were high, the difficulty was to get enough water for sluicing. Homemade water wheels were used in great number, contraptions which turned by force of the creek. Owners of one claim built a wheel 22 feet in diameter of peeled poles with a tomato can at the tip of each pole to raise the water, each can fastened by the half-removed lid. A lot of water was by this method, but they did obtain enough to sluice at intervals.
The richest bench claim the writer saw was owned by Frank Little, who had been lucky at two other gold strikes. He tunnelled and set just enough props to save his workings from caving. He used one home-made wheelbarrow and for a time averaged 70 ounces of coarse gold a day.
The bench claims on Pine were noted, though, for being spotty. My father and I bought a bench claim not more than five locations from Miller's discovery. The pay streak on the bench was very easy to discern as it consisted of red gravel, varying in
depth, supported by blue clay. When we purchased our claim we could see two or three small
nuggets glistening in the sun. They were in the red gravel too. But when we removed these nuggets we never found another trace of gold. The claim had been salted. This was our first lesson in placer mining - an expensive one.
There were two "runs" of gold in the Atlin fields, doubtless many hundreds of centuries apart, one deposit much deeper than the other. Also color of gold
varied in different creeks, and local banks varied prices accordingly. McKee Creek, 13 miles from Pine, commanded at least 60 cents per ounce more. McKee a year or two later was to become famous on two occasions, and both events happened to the same hydraulic company.
This company had bought out several miners, grouped their claims and started to ground sluice. The project was a big one, especially as McKee Creek was notorious for heavy boulders and swift volume of water. The work entailed laying in heavy piping and blasting rocks must have proved hard on employees, most of them disappointed men who had come long distances at great expense to mine for themselves. The company finally claimed they could get no satisfaction from white men, and stated they would bring in Oriental labor. No secret was made of this threat and the news reached every creek in the district.
In April, just before dusk, Atlin folk looking across the lake saw two large horse-drawn sleighs coming over the ice. When the sleighs reached town it was observed they contained 42 Japanese miners, each carrying a .44 rifle. Miners from all the creeks came in, held an indignation meeting that night, and decided they would take action
themselves.
Before daylight the Japanese were rushed to McKee Creek, 13 miles down the lake. At least 300 miners followed on foot, walking single file down the narrow trail.
It happened that J. D. Graham, gold commissioner for the district, had gone south the previous week, leaving his assistant in charge. The latter decided to read the Riot Act to the white men. He selected a spot on the lake where each miner would
have to pass him. It is doubtful if any single miner heard more than a few words as he passed by, but it would have made no difference - the miners, whilst orderly, were very determined.
The miners reached McKee Creek some four hours later, and found the Japanese had taken refuge in a large log cabin on the company premises, still armed with their rifles. Shortly after arrival of the miners, two very able and cool provincial policemen arrived, Constable Walter Owen (later chief warden at Oakalla), and the late W. H. Vickers, who became chief of police in Prince Rupert. They got the mine management and one or two leaders of the white miners together to talk things over. It was fortunate the constables were able to do so, because it required only a spark to cause bloodshed.
The mine manager gave his word that the Japanese would be sent back the following day. The white miners sat in deep snow all that night beside camp fires, and the Orientals left whence they came before the miners turned back.
Undoubtedly that is the farthest north in B.C. that the Riot Act has been read.
The same company later had their sluice boxes robbed just before a large clean-up. Suddenly, in the short hours of summer darkness, the lighting system of the plant failed. A water gate at the upper end of the property controlled the electric power and the night watchman immediately headed for this gate. While he was slowly picking his way over the rough creek bed with his lantern, the robbers were busy on the lower end robbing the sluice boxes, removing the riffles which held the gold.
It was never known how much gold they got, but as the property had been giving rich returns it was estimated the loss must have run into many thousands of dollars. No trace was ever found of the stolen gold, although several well-known characters were temporarily apprehended.
During those early days in Atlin there used to be a railway which covered the three-mile portage between Atlin Lake and Taku Lake, It consisted of wooden rails, one engine and two flat-cars. Passengers sat on their baggage. Fare was $2, and although no extra charges were made for clouds of cinders and smoke, it was presumed to be the most expensive fare for the distance on the continent.
Between eight and nine million dollars worth of gold was taken from Atlin creeks in the first five years; then as the diggings got deeper or in some cases worked out, hundreds of miners moved on to other strikes and the camp generally settled down to be worked for more than half a century by patient men who realized that the get-rich-quick
days of the camp were over. Also, companies bought up large portions of each creek.
Like most other mining towns, Atlin was visited by one or two disastrous fires. The first big conflagration was the worst and occurred the third year after the discovery. It happened in the early summer on a sunny day with a strong north wind blowing, and unfortunately it started in the north end of the main business section. Five hotels and at least a dozen stores went up in smoke before the fire was brought under control four hours later.
The only fire equipment consisted of several dozen galvanized buckets supplemented by a few lengths of fire hose and a back-breaking hand pump which eight men worked by raising and lowering long bars on each side. Men worked in relays on the pump, and men, women and children formed a chain to the lake some 80 yards distant and passed buckets. It was astonishing how little water arrived in a bucket after some 80 people had
passed it frantically from hand to hand. The fact that the wind dropped was all that saved remaining buildings.
Great was the celebration when they had the fire under control, and as all the saloons had saved their barrels of whisky the owners now passed free drinks to exhausted firemen. A watchman was left to guard the smouldering embers but he must have succumbed to the free drinks. In less than two hours another wind fanned the embers and nine more buildings were destroyed.
Among early arrivals in Atlin were some who were to become well known in the province. One of the most popular in the district was an English doctor who had come out to the diggings on the famous steamer Islander, which was to be tragically wrecked in the Lynn Canal two or three years later. His name was Henry Essington Young. He was prevailed on to run for the provincial legislature on the Conservative ticket, and was elected by 27 votes over a hotel man named John Kirkland. Later Dr. Young was to be elected unanimously, and became provincial secretary in the McBride government, and minister of education.
Another was Rev. John Pringle, who in the First World War became chief padre of the Presbyterian denomination. In true western style John Pringle used to preach in the streets of Atlin, often from the top of a whisky barrel before his church was built.
As time went on and men diligently searched other creeks in the vicinity, they too were rewarded. O'Donnell Creek was found to contain the precious metal. This creek runs into Atlin Lake 22 miles south of the town. Nate Murphy has valuable property on this creek today.
Several properties are still being worked on Spruce Creek, and such hardy miners as John Noland, Fred Graham, Otto Miller, Morris Bride and Ed Woodean are all reportedly doing well.
McKee Creek is still being worked by a number of local men, and work is being carried on at Boulder Creek by Norman Fisher and associates. Another creek discovered in the early days, but abandoned at the time in favor of easier diggings was
Birch Creek, which is being thoroughly worked by a company known as Atlin Ventures Ltd.
Ruby Creek, a later discovery, today is being worked by Columbia Development Co.
The possibilities for further rich discoveries in this area are immense and should offer strong inducement to young, energetic men. A group of four or five can accomplish much if they are not afraid of work. Placer mining is a poor man's occupation,
but still it requires money enough for a good grubstake and nobody should venture into the
camp with less than $300. Atlin has a marvelous climate and scenery unsurpassed by any in
B.C., but man cannot live by these alone.
Gone are the days when men tortuously hauled heavily-loaded handsleighs hundreds of miles to reach this northern mecca. Today in open season it is possible to
leave the lower mainland by plane and land on the edge of the town of Atlin in a few hours, or in four or five days if by boat.
