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Show Ih9 "They'll want you, all right," I said, "with a hundred thousand dollars." Caribou shook his head sadly. "You can talk yourself blue," I concluded every conversation. "I'm going to Nome." "It isn' t the gold he' s after," Tip said one day to Caribou, scooping water into the rocker. They were beginning to talk as if I were not around. "It's something to do with his blood. It's Viking." She threw down the dipper and fled to the cabin. On May 23, 1899, I became a sourdough by witnessing the breaking up of the ice on the Yukon River. I thought this requirement unmeritorious until I realized that anyone watching the ice break on the Yukon River had somehow already survived a winter in the Northland-the real making of a sourdough. Still, I did not want to make the trip to Dawson City, fearing that our bags of gold might be stolen. "You'11 always be called a cheechako if you don't," Caribou said, "and never a real sourdough. Everyone will be there, and anyone who isn't will look suspicious." "I saw the ice breakup at Lake Bennett," I said. "And you are still a cheechako," Caribou answered. "Besides we need to arrange with the Bartlett Brothers for a pack train |