Chapter 6
The next morning was dreary. I closed my tent flap, and went in search of a couple guards. My camp was probably safe for now, since no one knew where I was. But, that would change, soon. I had left my mule staked out a little deeper in the woods, in a little clearing, and he was enjoying the growth. I also had to consider what to do with him. I didn't want to take care of a mule.
The first item on my list, guards, was easily handled. There was a gathering place and miners that were seeking work gathered there and either left word or hung around, hoping to be picked up for work.
I thought it a bit expensive, but considering a pie could run as high as 20 dollars, well, it was the free market enterprise along with short supply of everything. These guys were staying through the winter, and wanted to make sure they could live. Still, it was piece of mind to have a couple guards for my campsite. I had valuable items and food there.
Since this was a job that would last for some time, they moved their tents close to mine. They camped a short distance away from my site, but out of my sight. I would have to be a bit careful that they didn't see anything they weren't supposed to see; but, all in all, I was pleased.
There was one mine company rep present. He was in the process of building up the company's interest in the area. He had arrived first, but his family had followed a few months later, apparently. While woman were at the camps and in the growing town, kids were rare, yet he had two. People did not usually bring their children to these camps. It was a most spartan life, for the miners.
This camp was luckier than most as it had easy trails in and out, as well as a connection to the railroad just several days' walk away. Shipments of milled lumber were constantly arriving. They were snapped up as soon as they arrived.
My mule was easily taken care of. I rented it to the company rep for a nice profit. It seemed mules and horses were in great demand, here. There was never enough of anything, really. The storekeepers were making the real killing, here. Everyone needed to eat, or have supplies, or more, more, more of what was always in short supply.
There were many interesting people, and I heard languages from all over the world. French was the second language spoken here, English being the first. We had several Englishmen. The Irish and Welsh had come to start working the company's mines.
Dawson City was some distance from here, but had made it through to my present. I knew that this little growing town would die in a few years. Still, there was gold here to be taken, and a few fortunes to be made, before the 'golden well' dried up. While Dawson City was in Canada, the little town I was in was on the Alaskan side of the Canada/Alaska border, in what was considered 'The Yukon'.
Actually, when all was said and done, this site was fairly close my modern home. Still, I was careful with my supplies and equipment. I went exploring as much as I could. I had a nodding acquaintance with the mining rep, Arthur Bannerman and his family.
He was a little man... cocky, and sure of himself. A take-charge kind of guy. He'd had a large cabin built, which served as both his home, and the mine's office of operations.
Since he had a ready cash supply, he had no problem hiring workers for the mining company's new twenty-four hour operation. The pay was one dollar and forty cents an hour, which was an incredible amount considering that men elsewhere were lucky to get a dollar a day or thirty a month in the lower states. That wage barely paid for a subsistence level of life for these miners. Prices were just as inflated as the pay.
A small group of miners had gotten together, pooled their resources, and was making some extra money by ordering supplies in bulk. Then they were reselling at a profit, once it arrived. While the place was accessible, there was no road. Wagons still could not make it all the way, and that meant packers and mule trains.
There was already a hotel going. A general store you could order supplies through, doubled as a post office, although mail was sporadic at best. People actually made a living carrying messages in and out of the site, to the railroad station that had sprung up some one hundred and twenty miles away. That's also where the supplies were offloaded from railroad trains, and put on the mule trains. For now, business was booming in this little fledgling town.
An enterprising lady had managed to bring a small oven through, and was running a food service. I made a deal with her for fresh baked bread every three days. Other women worked as seamstress, laundresses, and maids... anything to earn extra income.
Yes, there was 'companionship' to be had, if the money was right. Most of the women elected not to go that route. While they did have a hard life, the women were respected, and treated well by all the men. None were molested, not even the 'companions'.
Drinking was a favorite past time, as was the hunting of food. Besides the tons of food that came in for the miners, several hunters ran a service that brought in fresh big game, such as moose. Fish were caught in streams, or from a nearby lake, and sold. The lady running the bakery service had a milk cow. She was making a respectable side income selling milk and butter, as well as her main business of baked products.
My tent was more comfortable than that many of the rude cabins that had gone up. People were sleeping on the ground. Some were in holes they had dug into the sides of hills, trying to keep warm at night. Some of these 'holes' were actually quite large and roomy, the miner having expanded his temporary home, several times.
It was during my third week that I did my first appendectomy. I noticed a guy who was in pain, and was clutching his side. He thought he had strained something at first, but he was feeling ill and feverish, also. I told his friends not to let him drink anything or eat anything, and I would be back with my bag in a short time. I asked them to clear an area, and start boiling water. I used one of the tables in the front room of the hotel.
I did go back for my bag, but not before heading back to my future home. I had the AI run through the procedure for taking out an appendix, several times. I returned to the camp, brought my bag to the hotel, and the patient lived. Thus was my nickname born: "Doc Ben".
I explained to everyone that I was not a real doctor. I was just someone who had studied a great deal.
"Hell, man. You're the closest thing we got to a real doctor, besides the women's home remedies! You saved Sam's life. That makes you our doc," had been the reply.
I told them I didn't mind helping out from time to time, but I was not a real doctor. They all said they understood, but everyone started calling me "Doc" after that, or "Doc Parker".
Every day, for several days after that, I was busy helping out with treatments. Infections and accidental wounds mostly. I became adept at sewing stitches, and sneaking in future meds on these guys. Most of them healed quickly.
I did notice that the diet was not even close to balanced. Everyone seemed short on protein and minerals in their meals. That started me thinking, and I got an idea. I had tons of vegetables, corn, and wheat stored in the 'between'. What if I went ahead and left town for a bit, and ran into my "prearranged convoy" that I had already tasked? Why, it was even the right time of year for oranges and apples. It would be a summer's or early fall's harvest.
I was having my second meal with Arthur and his family, when I mentioned I was going to be gone a few days. He looked at me sharply.
"You're leaving the town?" he asked with concern.
"Oh, I'll be back. I just have to go meet some people at 'Trail's Start'. I took a chance, and ordered and shipped a lot of food stuffs, before I came here. It should be arriving about now if all went right, including my packers," I said after a sip of coffee.
"Food shipment? What sort of food?" he asked, getting a proprietary look on his face.
I grinned at him. "I had considered briefly going into the grocery business. I have since concluded that I am not cut out for that life," I finished.
"No, you're definitely not a grocery clerk," his wife answered me.
I looked at her, as we talked a little more. Her name was Beth Ann Bannerman. They had two children between them. Ruth, the oldest child, was eleven. A son, Samuel, was nine. One of the reasons I wanted to bring a load of produce through was that these kids just didn't look right, and they were eating the best out of anyone except me in camp, yet something was wrong.
"Anyway, it's time to go out and meet my people, and guide them in," I finished simply.
"Well, let me send a couple men with you, to give you a hand," he replied in a calculating manner.
I grinned at him, and he returned it.
"That's quite all right. Nothing ventured, nothing gained," I quipped.
After leaving them that evening, I made my way back to camp. I informed my guards I would be gone for a few days. I asked that they keep a low fire burning in my stove, as the evenings were getting very cold, now.
I drained the blister bag I had sitting out front. I had found that ice sometimes formed on the top, and once I had problems with ice at the spigot. After draining, I dismantled the tri-pod and brought the bag in to dry out. I would not use it again until either the weather warmed up, or I got tired of not having a large supply of water close at hand. I didn't want puddles on my tent floor, from the normal leaking of this type of canvas bag.
I grabbed my backpack the next morning, and started hiking out the trail. I had already figured out what I was going to do. As soon as I was out of sight and no one could see, I was going to return to my own time. Then I would get myself to the proper time and location to ship a lot of my 'between' items via the railway.
I would go back early enough to get that done, so that the harvest I had put into the 'between', would have enough apparent time to get properly shipped and accounted for by the railroad in Alaska. After doing that, I would find a packer able to supply a large enough mule train, to move everything, once it arrived.
I had to go a couple hundred miles out of my way, but I found a guy that agreed (for a percentage of the wheat, corn, and veggies) to do it. He would be at the station by a particular time to pack it for me, with his packers and mules.
That is exactly what happened. The way the shipment I had shipped was broken down, the three loads were spread between fifty mules. The first two loads were for my destination. The 'mule skinner' would take the third load back with him as payment for his time and service. Expensive, but then so was everything connected to gold mining, at the time. So, his first two trips were for me. He finished with the last load for himself.
After making all these arrangements; the packers, the mules and I were waiting at the temporary station that had been built at 'Trail's Start'. Once the supplies were unloaded and checked, I accepted shipment and signed for them. The packers then started getting the first load ready. They knew what they were doing.
We made between eighteen and twenty miles a day. That was moving along at a good rate. It took a little over a week on the trail before we got to the town. Lots of people stopped to watch, as we came in with a seemingly endless supply of loaded mules.
Arthur met me and said he had a place ready for me to use for storage. We followed him to the new cabin that had been thrown up for this purpose. After the first load was unloaded, I stayed at the camp. I kept a crate of everything out for personal use.
I had traded my wheat for processed flour, so I did not have to worry about that. The storage cabin, which had been built to handle the mine's storage needs, became my temporary warehouse. I offered Arthur free supplies in exchange. He was delighted, especially when he saw that I had bought oranges and apples with me. Those were going to go over big in the camp!
The second load arrived almost two weeks to the day from the time my packers had left for the return trip. The warehouse was now almost full. Besides my harvest, I had also thought to purchase and ship: salt, pepper, sugar, and a some other spices to add flavor to otherwise bland tasting meals.
While I had been gone, a couple men had gotten hurt. I went on "tent calls", to see what I could do. It may have been my imagination, but it seemed that everyone was very pleased to see me.
Authors Note
In 'The Gift', I inadvertently stated that my view was to the south from my window. Actually, it was more towards the east. However, the house does sit facing south and east, so I would still see Canada.
The M-16 has a three-position switch that goes from Safe, to semi, to full (or auto) fire. I may have stated that wrongly in a previous chapter, as a couple people raked me over the coals for not "getting it right"!
Any mistakes are my own, and are due to a decrepit memory!
Volentrin