‘All ready, Miss Welse, though I’m sorry we can’t spare one of the steamer’s boats.’
Frona Welse arose with alacrity and came to the first officer’s side.
‘We’re so busy, ‘ he explained, ‘and gold-rushers are such perishable freight, at least—’
‘I understand, ‘ she interrupted, ‘and I, too, am behaving as though I were perishable. And I am sorry for the trouble I am giving you, but—but—’ She turned quickly and pointed to the shore. ‘Do you see that big log-house? Between the clump of pines and the river? I was born there.’
‘Guess I’d be in a hurry myself, ‘ he muttered, sympathetically, as he piloted her along the crowded deck.
Everybody was in everybody else’s way; nor was there one who failed to proclaim it at the top of his lungs. A thousand gold-seekers were clamoring for the immediate landing of their outfits. Each hatchway gaped wide open, and from the lower depths the shrieking donkey-engines were hurrying the misassorted outfits skyward. On either side of the steamer, rows of scows received the flying cargo, and on each of these scows a sweating mob of men charged the descending slings and heaved bales and boxes about in frantic search. Men waved shipping receipts and shouted over the steamer-rails to them. Sometimes two and three identified the same article, and war arose. The ‘two-circle’ and the ‘circle-and-dot’ brands caused endless jangling, while every whipsaw discovered a dozen claimants.