St. Michaels consists of the company’s store and warehouse, an old loop-holed block-house, some twenty residences, a Greek church painted red, a school-house, and the few scattered huts or tents of visiting natives. It is located on the bluff, seaward point of a small barren island situated eighty miles north of the great Yukon delta, and affording the first bit of coast available for white occupation in all that distance of limitless swamps and mud-flats. As it is the only point at which sea-going vessels can approach anywhere near the coast, it is the great transfer station for the entire Yukon River trade, which, beyond here, is carried on by means of small stern-wheeled steamboats of less than three feet draught. It was on the island of St. Michaels, therefore, that Gerald Hamer proposed to land his cargo, set up his steamboat, and prepare for his long trip into the distant and almost unexplored interior.
As soon as the steamer _Norsk_ came to anchor, he borrowed our lads’ bidarkie, and, taking only Nikrik with him, went ashore to select a landing-place and camp site. It was late in the afternoon when he returned alone, wearied by his hard trip and angry at the reception with which he had met, but more determined than ever to proceed with his undertaking, in spite of all obstacles. The Alaska Company had for so long monopolized the fur trade of the vast region drained by the mighty Yukon and its tributaries that they were furious at the prospect of a rival, and determined to prevent it from establishing itself, if possible. Their annual supply-ship from San Francisco, bringing a large stock of merchandise, several new clerks, and the news of the world, including that of the formation of a rival company, had arrived and departed shortly before the coming of the _Norsk_. Consequently, when Gerald Hamer went ashore and introduced himself to the agent in charge, he was very coldly received, and was forbidden to land his cargo within the limits of the post.
Upon his return, which he was obliged to make alone, Nikrik having disappeared among the huts of the visiting natives, the young fur-trader called his men together and addressed them as follows:
“Lads, we’ve got a fight on our hands. The people on shore say that we sha’n’t land. The whole settlement is a trading-post belonging to the old company, who have fenced it in, as well as a long strip of the best beach. The only other place where we could make a landing is on a bit of beach just beyond their line, and I think they mean to fence and claim that to-morrow. Now, I don’t intend to interfere with any one’s established rights, nor am I inclined to yield my own. That strip of unfenced beach is government land, to which our right is as good as theirs. I propose, therefore, to steal a march on them by making a landing to-night with a raft of lumber, staking out a claim, and having our shanties up before morning. What do you say? Are you with me?”