Gold Rush Groom

chapter Twelve





A whistle brought Nala into the boat and a few moments later they joined the other vessels pulled downriver by an ever-increasing current.

The river began gently enough. Jack spotted the red flag on the pole and the sign announcing they were in the canyon. He knew before he reached the looming cliffs that the river would be forced to a hard left. Jack also knew from his scouting that there was a reef on the left bank, a mad tangle of logs and rocks, but the cliffs lay to the right with the faster water. Where he placed them was all. He had decided to hug close to the reef to put them in a better central position as they took the next right angle through the canyon. Lily had worked out sign language that mainly involved her pointing to hazards and then waving to clear water. She spied the reef, as sure as any springer spaniel spotting game, and waved him right, but he took them close then turned the rudder with all he had. The water roared like a maelstrom and pulsed like the heart of a great serpent. He hugged the horse’s mane of white water, shooting out into the canyon. Lily noticed the reef a quarter mile downriver and pointed. The most dangerous part of their journey rushed at him with inhuman speed. The reef further pinched the churning water into five-foot waves.

She motioned to the right and he leaned, fighting the rush of water that tried to snatch the rudder away. The waves beat against the sides and splashed over the deck, knocking Lily down. She righted herself as he held them in position. Just then the boat pitched as if some sea monster had hit them from below. Not a rock, he knew, but the waves, tossing them up and then leaving them airborne an instant before they crashed back to the river.

Lily’s feet left the deck. Jack stared in horror as she seemed to move in slow motion, flying up into the air as if catapulted. She sailed over the side and into the white water.

“Lily,” he howled, but the roar ate his words. He searched the water, but saw nothing.

Nala leapt over the side, disappearing after her mistress.

Jack shot past the reef, hitting the widening river and the slowing water. He leaned over the gunwale, looking for Lily. Her hat bobbed along, but he could not see her.

“Lily!” He could hear his voice now and the splashing.

He ran to the bow. There they were.

Nala swam nose in the air, thrashing her forelegs at the water. Lily clutched her dog round her thick neck and Jack found he could breathe again.

“I got you.”

Nala changed direction, making for the boat instead of the shore. He reached for an oar and extended it to Lily. She clasped hold of the pole and he dragged her to the side. Jack hauled Lily up first and then the two of them tugged her dog out of the water.

With his girls safe, Jack staggered back. Lily sank down beside him and Jack grasped her, dragging her into his arms.

“I nearly lost you,” he whispered, pressing his cheek to the top of her wet head.

“No, I’m here.”

He closed his eyes at the joy of it. The shock of her fall brought home just how much he needed Lily. She was more than his partner. More than the object of his desire.

“Thank God.”

“And thank my hound.” Lily patted Nala who had already shaken off and lay at her mistress’s feet.

Jack squeezed her tight and kissed her wet, cold lips, warming them with his own. There was a whooping cry from close beside them.

She drew back and stroked his cheek, pride beaming from her over what they had accomplished together.

Jack pushed his hat back on his head.

“We did it,” he said, grinning at her.

“We sure did.” She held her smile until it became brittle.

He stood and offered his hand, she let him pull her to her feet, then she stepped away. The moment was gone and he’d lost her again.

“Damn, boys, we’ve shot them rapids!”

Lily popped her head over the edge of the hull. He followed her example to see a skiff with two men, one at each oar, drift past them toward the many sandbars to the left of the widening river.

“We made it, Jack. Dawson’s only a hop and skip from here.”

Actually they were yet to reach the halfway mark. But they would be on the river for all of it and the Chilkoot Pass, their first winter and now the White Horse Rapids all lay behind them.

“Damned if we didn’t,” he said.

“I’ve got to change. Go to the back again and don’t come forward unless I call for you.”

He nodded and did as she bid him, knowing what would happen if he didn’t. Since their night together, he had kept his hands off her, but not his mind. He watched her at the bow, taking in every nuance and each gesture. He watched her by the firelight when she slept. And now, as he knew she was changing, he remembered that day he had seen her there, savoring the memories as a starving man recalls a feast. He had not stopped wanting Lily, had accepted long ago and many miles back that he’d never stop.



Lily did not forget the sight of the fresh graves beyond the White Horse Canyon or the icy bite of the river after she had been pitched in. So she stayed well back as they took Five Fingers Rapids, named for the fingerlike rocks that jutted up from the river. Lily thought the black humps of rock looked like the body of the whale that ate Jonah.

They made it past Big Salmon and Little Salmon, through the community of Sixty Mile, so named for its distance from Fort Yukon. They camped on the river when possible to discourage the mosquitoes that now flew in black clouds on the shore. Jack had rigged a metal-and-brick floor in the boat as a platform for cooking. She set their fires in a metal basin that Jack would use for a wheelbarrow once in Dawson. As daylight stretched to eighteen hours a day and the river grew calm, she suggested they work in shifts, each sailing the boat for six hours and then resting. This brought them to Dawson City on July 4, 1898.

Lily stood beside Jack at the stern as they sailed the last two miles along the wide river, flanked by green pine on one side and the white-capped mountains of The Dome on the other.

“It’s a fine way to celebrate Independence Day,” said Lily.

“But we’re in Canadian territory,” Jack reminded her.

Lily waved off his observation as she studied the shore. There were many cabins, each with nice piles of dirt just waiting to be sorted.

“What are those? They look like wooden gutters in the stream.” She asked pointing at a series of wooden troughs set beside the tributaries leading out to the river.

“That’s a Long Tom. It’s kind of an extended rocker box. You feed the dirt into the top and then rock it like a cradle. The stream water running through and the rocking washes away the dirt and gravel leaving the heavier material, including the gold, to be trapped in the riffles.”

She stared in wonder at the filthy man who threw shovelful after shovelful into the top of the contraption.

Jack pointed. “At the bottom are small slats of wood that trap the heaviest material and gold is heavier than any other thing out here.”

Lily craned her neck as they sailed on, wishing she could see to the bottom of that trough. Next came a little inlet which held hundreds of logs, just waiting for the sawmill. Two horses ate hay from a trough made from a canoe and everywhere freshly sawn planks covered half-constructed buildings.

“That’s it. Dawson City,” said Jack as he turned the rudder.

Lily studied the rough collection of structures, looking for the biggest and grandest of them all, for that was where she planned to work.

“We should stay on the boat a few nights,” said Jack, who had become more and more sullen as they neared their destination.

“We’ll see,” she said, not wanting to be alone in the boat with him, knowing they would separate afterward, knowing their parting would make her more apt to forget all the reasons that sleeping with him was such a bad idea.

As it happened, Lily was offered a job the day she set foot in Dawson, singing at the Pavilion, an arrangement that included a shared room at a boarding house and board at one of the hotels. She also rented a five-by-five piece of warehouse space, so Jack could search for a claim on which to try his invention without worrying about his supplies.

She came to the boat when the last of his gear was stowed in the guarded warehouse and handed him a billfold.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“It’s $428.00, your half of what we earned since we partnered up.” She extended the money, waiting.

“Thank you, partner.”

She held on to the wallet a moment too long.

“You won’t go spending it in the gambling halls, will you?”

“I’m a Baptist, Lily.”

“What has that to do with squandering money?”

“We don’t drink and we don’t gamble.”

“Are you funning me?”

He shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

“I never heard of a man not drinking or gambling.” She glanced about. “I hope there aren’t too many other Baptists around here.”

“I wouldn’t worry.”

She returned her attention to him. “Will you come see my first show? Just for luck?”

Jack shook his head, feeling the ache already gripping his heart. Their parting had come.

“I’m heading up Bonanza Creek. I hear there is a claim or two for sale there that’s played out. Might be able to buy it now.” He held up the wallet.

Lily toyed with the lace collar of her best blouse. “The owner of the Pavilion says all the good claims were gone before the fall and all that’s left is grubstakes, working for those that own the claims.”

He patted her cheek. “Don’t worry, Lily. I’ll not starve.”

She clasped his hand and held it to her cheek, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, they glistened. At first he thought it was her frequent temper, but then he realized it was tears. Lily was close to crying.

Her voice broke and she tried a second time to speak. “Well, if you do come back, come to the Pavilion. I haven’t forgotten my promise to look out for you all I can.”

She released his hand and they stood suddenly awkward in the street. They had been through so much and he had grown to care for her.

“A hauler offered me five hundred dollars for Nala. I turned him down.” She looked worried. “I’ve a favor to ask, Jack. I don’t want her stolen while I’m working. Will you take her for a while? They won’t let me keep her at the boarding house and she likes you.”

“I’d be glad to have her.”

“Don’t sell her.”

“Never. And I’ll bring her to see you when I’m in town for supplies.”

He felt the time between them slipping away.

Had she given him Nala to protect her dog or to insure she would see him again? He stared at her lovely face and wondered why he could not think of anything important to say.

“You were a good partner, Lily.”

She smiled, but then her chin trembled and he thought he’d said the wrong thing again.

“I never had much luck with men, Jack. Hard to trust them, you know. But you kept your word. And I thank you. And I’ll not say goodbye, for you’re coming to see me with Nala. Promise.”

He nodded, finding a lump in his throat prevented him speaking. Once he had wanted to be rid of her and now that he was, he found he was not ready to let her go. He hoped she’d kiss him, but she didn’t.

Lily hugged him, pressing her lovely face into his dirty coat. He stroked her hair and lowered his chin to breathe in her fragrance once more. Then she pulled back and called Nala. The hound came, but her tail was down and she looked to her mistress.

“Go on, Nala.” Lily motioned her away.

Jack turned and headed for the river. He couldn’t look back, because if he did he’d do something foolish. Nala somehow sensed that Lily would not be coming with them and she whined anxiously.

Jack felt his shoulders sag. The weight of the journey, the sorrow of their parting and the uncertainty of his future all preyed upon him.

Would his invention even work?