BURYING ZIMMERMAN (The River Trilogy, book 2) (14 page)

"Nokes told him they'd already carried most
of the outfit to the top, and there was maybe sixteen loads left.
He said the Chilkoots could pack those loads over the mountain and
down to Lindeman Lake along with the rest of the outfit, but he
wasn't paying more than ten cents a pound for what was already up
at the pass. The Siwash and his boys sulked for a while but they
didn't have much else to do, so after a while they strapped on bags
and headed up the trail.

"Nokes was chopping branches near the tent
when Gig told him he been thinking about something. Why don't the
two of them head over the pass today and set up camp at Lindeman?
They could leave enough grub and one tent at Sheep Camp and the
Swedes could follow when Ruud got his sight back. While they waited
for the Swedes, maybe they could move part of the outfit down to
the far end of the lake. That might make up for time they lost
during the snowstorm at Sheep Camp.

"Nokes looked up for a second and said no,
they was waiting until Ruud was healed. Then he went back to
chopping wood. Didn't bother to explain his reasons.

"Gig told me later that Nokes waved him off
like he was a dog. I don't know why Gig was set on moving, but it
was almost April and maybe he was worried they wouldn't get across
the lakes while they was still frozen. Or maybe he didn't think
they'd have enough grub to get to Circle if it started snowing
again and they couldn't cross the pass for another week.

"Whatever it was, it cut a stripe into Gig.
That was probably where things started going bad between him and
Nokes."

Chapter 14

"Next two days the weather held and the
Chilkoots packed the rest of the gear and the sleds up to the pass,
but only 'cause Nokes agreed to pay 'em ten cents a pound on the
entire outfit up front. The Siwashes was worried Ruud might not get
his sight back for a while. They didn't know how long before Nokes
would tell 'em to carry the outfit down from the pass to Lindeman
Lake, and they didn't want to wait to get all their money at the
end."

Zimmerman has settled into a rhythm now and I
follow the trail in my mind as he lays it out. I know he crossed
the Chilkoot Pass two years later during the stampede summer of
'98, but it almost seems like he was on the winter trail with Gig
Garrett in '96. Zimmerman saw enough of mountains and snow and
frozen lakes during his time Inside, I remind myself, that
visualizing Gig's journey must be easy for him.

"After three days at Sheep Camp, Ruud could
see inside the tent without his eyes hurting. Lindfors found a
sourdough with a broken foot down in Dyea and bought his snow
goggles for twice what they was worth. I guess that feller figured
he could wait to find another pair. Fourth morning there was high
clouds moving in, so Ruud put his goggles on and was ready to walk.
They packed up their gear and strapped it on their backs. The
Chilkoots was moving an outfit up from Dyea for another group, and
Nokes told 'em when they saw his tent was gone at Sheep Camp, that
meant they should carry his outfit down from the pass to Lindeman
Lake.

"Nokes had 'em up at the pass by mid-day.
They drew out a couple days of grub from their cache, which usually
means bacon and beans. Meal for flapjacks and maybe some dried
apples or pears in the first month or two. They loaded their packs
on their sleds.

"After you cross that flat stretch it's five
hundred feet down to Crater Lake, which most of the year is just a
patch of snow over the ice. Looks like a couple of big mice side by
side. On the mountain the snow's deep enough, so the Indians just
jump on their sleds and drop straight down, going so fast they
cross most of the first mouse when they hit the bottom.

"Gig and Nokes and the Swedes let the sleds
go down without a rider the first time, then followed the tracks.
At the far side of Crater Lake, a stream leads down into a rocky
gully. Then come Long Lake, with heavy walls of snow on the sides.
Past that and down to Deep Lake. Then you get to a hill where there
ain't much left of the trail, but over the top you can see Lindeman
Lake, and that's the first place you got trees. Not enough to build
a boat, 'cause most was burned by the Indians, but all Gig's group
wanted was shelter and wood for the stove. They was able to haul
their sleds to the head of Lindeman by sundown and make camp.

"Wind picked up overnight and by morning it
was blowing hard, with snow in the air. For Lindeman Lake, that's
fair weather, and good for sailing a sled. But back up at Crater
Lake you can barely see the hillside, and up on the pass you can't
see five feet. The Chilkoots wasn't climbing up from Sheep Camp
that day, and they wasn't going anywhere close to the pass.

"Gig and his group waited two days at
Lindeman and the tops of the mountains was always clouded over, so
they knowed it was still bad above Crater Lake. They was able to
cut enough dead spruce around their campsite to keep the stove lit
and cook a few hot meals. But they was running low on food, and
Nokes said there was no use waiting for the Chilkoots. They needed
to head back up to the pass and start moving their outfit down.

"Gig didn't say much about it, but he was
sore at Nokes. If they hadn't all waited for Ruud, the Chilkoots
would of packed the entire outfit over to Lindeman before the
weather turned bad. Or if Nokes didn't pay 'em part of the fee,
maybe them Indians could of found a way to work when it was
snowing. Now he and the others was going to spend two or three days
doing what should be done already. Even though the packing was
downhill and they had sleds, it was a tough haul when the snow was
flying and you couldn't see the trail.

"The next morning they pulled their sleds
eight miles back to Crater Lake. They spent the rest of the day
climbing that pitch up to the pass, digging out their outfit,
loading up their sleds, and riding 'em back down to the lake, which
is how they seen the Indians done it. Then up and down all over
again. They got the whole outfit down to the lake, but it was rough
work.

"It's freezing and windy at the pass, so you
got to wear your Indian parka, which is a coat you pull over your
head and goes down to your knees. It's heavy cotton and got a hood
lined with fur, and under that is your wool sweater and wool shirt
and undershirt. And you got two layers of heavy mittens like the
Siwashes wear. But you sweat when you carry your sled up from
Crater Lake. Then your sweat chills you at the pass, and the wind
burns your face sledding down.

"When they got the last load down it was
snowing again, so they kept pulling to Lindeman, and Gig was
feeling used up. Back at camp his throat swelled up so he could
barely eat, and he burned a fever overnight. Next morning he was
shivering, and Nokes told him to stay in the tent. They fed him tea
and biscuits and piled all their blankets on him, then Nokes and
the Swedes dragged their sleds back to Crater Lake.

"Gig's fever lasted three days, and that's
how long it took the other three to pull the outfit down to camp.
The weather cleared while they was doing it and the sun started to
soften up the snow on the lakes. In Alaska, days get longer in a
hurry when you get into April.

"Even when it ain't stormy, you always got
wind pouring down on Lindeman. The lakes run like fingers end to
end, with terraces or slides between 'em. Slopes of granite and
limestone and marble rising on either side, so wind comin' across
the pass got nowhere to go but down the lake. Whatever snow ain't
drifted gets crusted hard enough you can walk on top of it, and
some places it's just an egg-shell over the ice.

"So that's why Nokes and the Swedes wanted to
clear the pass by the end of March. Lindeman is five miles long,
and if it's froze solid and you got rope and tent canvas, you can
sail it in an hour. Tip your sleds over and drip water along the
wooden runners – they ice over in a minute. Cut a half-dozen spruce
poles, flip the sleds back up, and lash 'em together two across and
two deep. The ice is six feet thick, so weight ain't a problem. Two
men on the back using long poles for a rudder. Maybe you hit a soft
patch or a drift and you got to jump off and unload some bags, but
that don't slow you down much.

"When Gig felt better, the four 'of em broke
camp early and rigged their sleds for the lake. They sailed their
whole outfit over that day and pitched the tent near the outlet
stream."

Zimmerman pauses for a sip of whiskey, so I
ask the question on my mind.

"Did Gig get over his resentment toward his
partners while he was lying in the tent for three days and they
were packing his food and gear down from Crater Lake?"

Zimmerman furrows his brow and exhales. "Yes
and no," he says. "They was his ticket to the Yukon, and I don't
think Gig saw it as more than that. The Swedes was letting Nokes
call the shots, so Gig kept an eye on him. When they was making
good time, he had no problems with Nokes. If they was going slow or
waiting for someone else, then Nokes wasn't helping, so that would
eat away at Gig.

"Lindeman gives you a taste of sailing on
ice, but Bennett Lake's a full meal, and that come next.
Thirty-four miles long, maybe a mile across. Twice as wide and even
windier where an arm come in from the southwest. Steep granite
hills on both sides. The head of the lake is about a mile from
Lindeman, but you got to drag your outfit down the outlet stream
and through a canyon filled with boulders to get there.

"If the wind blows from the pass, you can
sail Bennett in a day, and be thankful you got a sled on the ice
and not an open lake, 'cause when the ice goes out and the wind
kicks up, it don't matter what your boat looks like – running down
the waves, you take on water.

"But if the wind come from the north you're
pulling sleds into its teeth, and there ain't any real shelter out
there. Your tent is beating and snapping like a sail all night, and
you only sleep 'cause you're bone tired. When the stove goes out,
the heat goes with it and your breath freezes on the roof of your
tent, so in the morning your blankets is covered with ice.

"Gig and Nokes and the Swedes spent a whole
day packing their outfit through the canyon, even though it was
just a mile, and camped at the head of Bennett. They lashed their
sleds back together and sailed out the next morning with one tent
and half their outfit. The wind was up and they crossed all
thirty-four miles that day. Cached their outfit and made camp, then
turned around and pulled empty sleds back into the wind for the
best part of three raw days.

"The next trip down Bennett they was pulling
as much as sailing and had to spend another night out on the ice.
Gig started wondering whether they'd get past the lakes before the
ice got too soft to sail.

“Back before the stampede, there was still
plenty of trees around Bennett, so most groups heading for the
Yukon camped a few weeks and built a boat big enough to float them
and their outfit. Then when the ice gone out, they could sail from
lake to lake. Tagish. Marsh Lake. Miles Canyon and the Whitehorse
Rapids. Then Lake Laberge. That's a hundred and twenty miles of
water, and Gig didn't want to drag a sled that far. But open water
was still over a month away, and Nokes said they wasn't building a
boat."

Chapter 15

"From the foot of Bennett Lake you can pole
or drift your way into the west arm of Tagish Lake. All you got
between 'em is a muddy outlet called Caribou Crossing. The herds
cross there 'cause it's the only way to reach the moss grounds
between the lakes and the passes. Nokes was hoping they might be
able to shoot a reindeer, but the spring migration ain't come
through yet. They made camp and Nokes explained his plan.

"Caribou Crossing was at six on a clock face.
Tagish Lake went up to four o'clock, and Marsh Lake wrapped from
three to one o'clock. Connecting those lakes was a six-mile piece
of water, and halfway down that river was Canadian customs. When
the Klondike rush hit, the Brits moved the customs office up to the
passes, where there was no getting around 'em, but before that
anyone heading down the lakes had to stop at the Tagish station and
declare what they was bringing in.

"Nokes said the gear they was already using –
clothes and tents and sleds – wouldn't be taxed, but they would
average maybe twenty percent on the grub and more than that on the
hardware. Almost fifty percent on the tobacco and whiskey. On an
outfit like theirs, customs might want three hundred dollars, maybe
four. Nokes said he didn't want to give the Canadians that money.
He'd rather use some of it to push toward where they was going and
keep the rest.

"Gig and the Swedes agreed with Nokes. So
they cached most of their outfit in the snow where the outlet run
into Tagish Lake. They hid the whiskey and tobacco in bags of rice
and rolled oats. Left the coffee and tea and dried milk behind too,
along with the picks and pans and saws and nails.

"They just loaded their sleds with the tents
and stove, winter clothes and blankets and enough grub for a few
weeks. Took the guns and bullets too, hoping they might run into a
moose, though moose was usually a long way back into the hills.
Then they pulled their sleds over the ice to where the Windy Arm of
the Tagish come in. Rigged a sail and made the last dozen miles in
a few hours.

"The customs office was on the right bank of
the outlet river, halfway between Tagish and Marsh Lake. Nokes
steered to the opposite bank before they got to customs. A band of
Stick Indians built huts and was living there, and Nokes had
already done some trading with 'em.

"The Siwashes come crowding around like they
always done when white men happen along, and they was holding out
dried salmon and furs and jabbering in Injun about stuff they
wanted to sell. If you're lucky there's one or two you can talk to,
but you can't trust 'em enough to turn your back. They'll pick up
anything on your sled or boat that ain't nailed down, especially if
it's shiny like a compass or a knife. They'll slip it inside their
parka, and if you see 'em do it they'll smile and try to hand you a
couple of coins.