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Show 10U "Oh, well," I said, wondering why I should be disappointed. "That's the way we wanted it." We climbed over the crest of the hill and ran down the trail to the edge of the Klondike River, roaring from the east to meet the mighty Yukon around the bend. Across the river from where we stood, the swift waters of Bonanza Creek flowed into the Klondike. On the steep bank was a cable ferry which I had heard about- a boxlike seat dangling from a cable line. A sign tied to a tree stump read: Free Ferry. Tip began shaking her head, but I pushed her on fast and jumped on beside her. We pulled ourselves over to the fabulous Bonanza. For fourteen miles the swift Bonanza Creek twisted down a narrow valley, splashing in and out of intricate man-made sluices, depositing gold. Prospectors in rubber hip boots sloshed through the stream, crouched over the sluices, and squatted on the creek banks, whirling gold pans. Gravel dumps and tailings, tents and privies dotted the banks and benches. "At last," I cried, "the golden stream!" I jumped into its icy waters, crunching its gold beneath my boots. "It's a regular mess, if you ask me," Tip said. "All the flowers are ruined!" I looked at ray partner. Was she crazy? Was she going to be Flower Queen of the Bonanza now? |