The annals of the rush to the far northern gold fields are full of stories of hardship, but none are more pitiful than those told by the victim of "that
Edmonton route." J. A. Ritchie, of Montreal; D. A. McPhee, of Winnipeg; Roy Moffat, of Pembroke, Ontario; Philip Billneau, of Duluth, and Alec Holmes, of Fresno, Cal., were tive of those who suffered by taking this route, and who found themselves on the headwaters of
the Porcupine river this season too late to attempt the descent of that river by boat. With no other guide than one of Ogilvie's charts, they started, sometime after winter had set in, to make a southward cross-country trip of about 200 miles, to reach the Yukon. They tell a hard luck story of cold and semi-starvation, and of a perilous journey for
help through an unexplored wilderness, and a prompt and heroic attempt at a rescue.
Holmes froze both feet at the outset, though not very seriously, and believing himself unequal to the long trip, decided to turn back and trust to getting enough salmon at a previously found hole in the ice, to keep off starvation until help
should come. Holmes and Billneau were partners, an independent party to that of the other three men, but the two parties had joined for the trip up the Porcupine and overland. After a short consultation, it was decided that Moffatt and Billueau remain with Holmes,
Moffatt being a particularly good shot and the best hunter of the party, while Ritchie and McPhee continued the journey as already planned, but to return with help as soon as it could be secured.
Holmes, Moffatt and Billneau went into camp at "Fish Branch," on the upper Porcupine. Holmes fished and Moffatt and Billneau hunted. They had seven dogs with them, while the other two men pushed on with four. All the party were rather poorly provided with clothing for cold weather, but they were stout young fellows, ranging in age
from 25 to 35.
Ritchie and McPhee left the others October 31. They crossed the three
little lakes at the extreme headwaters of the Porcupine, toiled over a low mountain range, with snow about two feet deep, traversed a wide and uneven valley drained by three tributaries of the mysterious Ogilvie river, climbed over another low range, and found
themselves on the head of the Left Fork of Big Sheep creek, which pours into the Yukon six or seven miles below here, or about 130 miles below Dawson. They reached a cabin at the mouth of Big Sheep a few days later, having been ten days on the trip, about half of that time without food, except some beaver hides. They had lost one of the dogs and were on the point of making away with one of the survivors for food, a last resource, which their timely arrival at the cabin enabled them to dispense with.
They had seen some game on the way, but as is the proverbial case with starving men, were unable to get any of it. They were followed for a distance by
a band of the huge Alaskan
Timber Wolves.
These were so threatening that the young men saved their remaining ammunition to protect themselves in case of actual attack. Alaskan wolves, by the way, though of the largest size, have rarely, if ever, been known to attack man, but instances are not rare of their boldness in attack on a dog team on the road. Only a few days ago a party on the way here from Circle lost a dog in the night. A big Malamute, dragged away from camp several hundred yards by a wolf and killed and partly eaten, before the men had time to rush out to rescue the brute.
The two young men found good friends at the cabin. It was occupied by four "old-timers," Al and Lee Pate, George Stiller and Julius Sternberg. These men at once volunteered to return to help the rest of the party out of its predicament. Young McPhee had an incipient attack of scurvy and also a frost bitten toe. Young Ritchie, who, despite his late rawhide diet, was in good shape to travel again in a few days, acted as guide for the return party, his companions being Lee Pate and Julius Sternberg. With several extra pairs of snow shoes, borrowed at Star, the party set forth November 13, with thirty days
food supply. As the young men had come through in ten days, the relief party had no doubt of making the round trip within a month.
Over six weeks passed and no word was heard from them. The people of
Seventy-Mile and Star began to talk of sending a relief party after them. Finally some of the miners of Seventy-Mile made the trip to the cabin on Sheep creek, and there found the party had just returned. They had been six days practically without food, but, as they expressed it, were "all right now," having eaten frequently and generously since getting home.
Unfortunately, they had not found the party, whom they had gone to relieve. They had found the camp at the Salmon hole, near Fish branch, and had there
Found A Note
left by Moffatt, saying that the party had been unable to replenish their supply of game or fish, and, fearing that assistance might be delayed in reaching them, had decided to attempt the return trip to La Pierre house, some 200 miles down the Porcupine, on the Belle river, the terminus of the portage from Fort McPherson, on the Peel river.
La Pierre house is an old abandoned trading post, but a few Indians usually winter in that vicinity, and from there the men might get help. Otherwise, they might be able to make the "portage" to Fort McPherson, 80 miles further, where some of the party had a large amount of provisions cached. Though the note did not so state, it was
evident that Holmes was able to travel, though doubtless with some aid from the dogs, of which they had seven.
Ritchie thinks they were doubtless able to make the trip, though they started with so little food that they would probably have to eat some of the dogs, a
necessity to which more than one Alaskan traveller has been driven in times past. They were not, however, very warmly clothed to withstand cold on short rations.
"It is to be regretted," said Mr. Pate, "that they did not come on their way, instead of turning back to go over 200 miles further north. Had they done so, they would have met us about half way and both parties of us would have probably been saved considerable hardship. However, they knew their way back over the trail they had come and were ignorant of the country this way, They had no means of knowing if their partners had reached the Yukon or had not been lost and perished in the mountains, a fate which might overtake another such attempt."
The members of the relief party were reluctant to go into "harrowing details" of their experiences; they had no desire to pose as heroes of remarkable adventures and were disposed to make light of their hardships, jokingly remarking that they had discovered the needlessness of carrying provisions in an Alaskan winter trip - a "useless expense and trouble," for, said Pate, "you don't feel hungry any more after the second or third day, though you do feel yourself getting a little weaker all the time.
But the little tea and tobacco we had helped out wonderfully. The worst feature about going without food is that it makes you more susceptible to cold, more apt to freeze. We were unable to sleep the last two nights - had to stay up and keep a roaring fire going. Yes, of course, we had the dogs, and had we not known that we could probably hold out until we reached home, one or two of the animals might have gone the way of the flesh."
That they had gone without food almost too long was evidenced to them
shortly after their arrival when they attempted to eat.
Sternberg fainted outright and considerable effort was required to bring
him around. The others experienced more or less inconvenience, as nausea, vertigo, etc., but with a little caution were soon whle to eat heartily. On the trip they had had but one opportunity for a shot at game. A moose was seen, and Sternbery, the nimrod of the party,
and a man of some reputation as a hunter who did not "miss," attempted to secure the animal, and "missed."
"That worried Jule," said one of the party, "but a really hungry man can
never hit anything anyway."
The men were hard at work yesterday repairing sleds and snowshoes, sacrificed on the trip. The snowshoes lacings and all spare hide or skins, even to the
dog whip, had been fed to the dogs on the return trip.
Young McPhee has quite recovered from the effects of scurvy and frost
bite. Narrating the experiences of their party, Ritchie said:
"We left Edmonton early in September, 1897, having been induced to try
that route largely by the advertising of the Edmonton merchants and by an article written by A. A. Hemming, of Hamilton, Ontario (who had actually never made the trip). Hemming called it the
'Poor Man's Route.'
We found it anything but that. It is not only an intolerably long and round-about way of getting into the country, but is extremely expensive and difficult,
very few ever reaching the Yukon with even a small part of their outfit.
"Our party wintered on the Mackenzie below Great Slave lake. We pushed on
to the Peel river last spring. At Granite Rapids a pistol costs $50. At Smith's Rapid it took from $15 to $100 to have your boat taken through. At Fort McPherson, on the Peel river, we had to take the eighty-mile portage over to Porcupine waters. Here Indians are indispensable if you care to get an outfit over, the packing charge being $7 a hundred pounds.
"It was July before McPhee, Moffatt and I finally arrived on the Porcupine, with but a few hundred pounds of food. Here we were joined by Holmes and
Billneau, who, like ourselves, had decided to try the extreme headwaters. We prospected all summer and found no gold, and I believe I am safe in saying that there is no pay on the headwaters of the Porcupine. But during the summer there was plenty of game in that
region and we got along very well as regards food. It was not until after both flour and tobacco bad given out that things began to look blue to us. Yet we were making good progress toward the Yukon, and all would have been able to get out of the country all right except for the accident of Holmes freezing his feet."
(Mr. Ritchie then told in detail the story of the trip out for help by McPhee and himself, how their food gave out in four or five days and how they were
threatened by a band of wolves, which were finally driven off. Also how bad luck had followed two efforts to shoot game they saw and how they were finally reduced to the necessity of eating, one after another, five beaver hides.
"How did you manage to eat them?'
"Oh, we just singed off all the hair, then toasted pieces of the hide to a crisp over the fire., and chewed,"
Both McPhee and Ritchie have little doubt that Moffatt, Billneau and Holmes were able to reach La Pierre house, though it was a long, hard trip to make inside the Arctic circle, in mid-winter, on short rations.
