I'll have an opportunity to study this world of gold seekers. They don't seem to be the most commendable of types."

"It could hardly be otherwise, my dear Summy," replied Raddle. "We have to take things as they are."

"Always provided, Ben, that we don't become part of it, which we aren't and never will be! You're a gentleman, and so am I. We've inherited a claim, which, I'd like to think, is full of nuggets, but we aren't going to keep even the tiniest piece of it."

"All right," said Raddle, with an imperceptible of shrug of the shoulders that Skim did not find reassuring.

"We're going to the Klondike to sell Uncle Josias's claim," he went on, "although it would have been easy to close the sale without making the trip. Good Lord! When I think that I might have acquired the instincts, the passions, and the desires of that mob of scoundrels!"

"Be careful, Summy, or you'll have me quoting Virgil to you: auri saga fames."3

"You're right, Ben. Yes, I have a deathly horror of that atrocious thirst for gold, that mad desire for wealth that makes people endure so many hardships. That isn't work, it's just gambling! It's a race for the jackpot, for the big nugget. When I think that I could have been in Montreal, getting ready to spend an idyllic summer at Green Valley instead of sailing off to some incredible region on board this steamship ..."

"You promised me you wouldn't complain, Summy."

"That's all, Ben, that's the last time. Now I'm only thinking about ..."

"About getting to Dawson City?" asked Raddle, with a touch of irony in his voice.

"About coming hack, Ben, about coming back," was the frank reply.

As long as the Football was sailing in Queen Charlotte Strait without reaching its top speed, the passengers suffered no discomfort. The rolling was barely perceptible. But when it had passed the northern tip of Vancouver Island, it was exposed to the long swell from the open sea.

The distance from there to the Queen Charlotte Islands, some 140 miles, was the longest stretch the ship would have to travel under those conditions.' It would meet the open sea again as it crossed Dixon Entrance-between the Queen Charlottes and Prince of Wales Islandbut only for about fifty miles. From there on, it would be sheltered all the way to Skagway.

It was a cold, cloudy day, with a bitter wind coming out of the west. A strong swell was pounding the British Columbia coast. A driving rain was coming down, mixed with snow. The suffering of the immigrants who could not find shelter either on the poop deck or in the steerage can well be imagined. Most of them were plagued with seasickness, for by now the ship was rolling and pitching, and it was impossible to go from the bow to the stern without holding on to the rigging. The animals, too, were in great distress, and above the whistling of the wind could be heard lowing, whinnying, and braying in a terrifying concert that is hard to imagine. It was impossible to enclose or leash the dogs, which were running and rolling along the deckhouses. Some of them had become fierce and were rushing at the passengers, leaping at their throats and trying to bite them. The boatswain was forced to shoot some of them with his revolver. This created a serious disturbance, which the captain and his officers had difficulty putting down.

Needless to say, Summy Skim, as a determined observer, braved the inclement weather and did not go to his cabin until bedtime.

Neither of the cousins suffered from seasickness and neither did their traveling companion, the stolid Norwegian Boyen. Nothing that happened on board ship seemed to have any effect on him.

The same was true of the Texans, Hunter and his friend Malone. From the very first day, they managed to round up a group of gamblers and ensconced themselves around the card table. Their angry shouts and taunts, in all their savage ferocity, could be heard day and night.

Among the passengers who arrived on the last train from Montreal to Vancouver were two who had attracted Summy Skim's attention.

They were nuns, and they had arrived in Vancouver the day before the ship was to sail. Passage aboard the Football had been reserved for them in advance. They were native French Canadians, aged twenty-eight and thirty-two, and belonged to the Congregation of Sisters of Mercy. The order was sending them to the hospital at Dawson City, where the sister superior had asked for additional staff.

Skim was overcome with emotion at the sight of those two nuns who had been given an order by their convent in Montreal and had set out at once, without protest and without hesitation. What a dangerous journey they were undertaking! What a dreadful world of fortune hunters, wretches of every description and every background, they would be exposed to! What suffering they would have to endure during their long journey, and what privations were in store for them in the Klondike, from which they might never return! But they were upheld by the spirit of charity and intoxicated by the spirit of devotion. Their mission was to aid the unfortunate, and they would not fail in their duty.

Aboard the steamship that was carrying them to their distant destination, they were already busily offering relief to the poor folk without distinction, giving aid to the women and children, even depriving themselves in order to provide for others' comfort.

It was not until the fourth day that the Football came under the lee of the Queen Charlotte Islands.' Sailing conditions were now less difficult since the swell was not coming in from the open sea. On the land side there was a succession of fjords similar to those found in Norway, which must have brought many memories of his homeland to Skim and Raddle's cabin mate.