The new North-west. [volume] (Deer Lodge, Mont.) 1869-1897, 1884-11-07
THE TOWN OF JUNEAU.
a Visit to Alaska's Three Year-old
Mining Camp.
4 Globe-Demoerat Correspondent
Ashorc-Beautics OF the Land.
scape-Mouniain, Village
and Wood.
(Ruhamah's Alaska letter.

(Ruhamah's Alaska letter.
When we steamed on mile and crept up
10 the wharf at juneau the whole town and
the Indian village were down to see US land,
and when the lines were cast ashore the
curio friends made q rush for the assembled
Indians and the trading stores The town Of
juneau dates back as a mining camp but a
little over three years. In 1879 the Indians
gave fine quartz specimens to the officers Of
the man-of-war, jamestown, and in the fol-
lowing summer a prospecting party was Or
ganizel by Joseph Juneau and Richard Har-
ris. They ,amped at the present town site
ON the LIST of October and then following up
Gold creek to the Silver Bow basin, three
miles back, found the rich placers and the
outcropping quartz veins.
When the news of their find reached Sitka
there was a rush for the new FL Dorado, and
q camp sprang up that winter and has slowly
grown into an odd little town. 1t was first
called Pilsbury for one prospector, then Flip
town with miners grim humor, then Rock
well for tie lieutenant who came from the
jamestown with detachment of marines to
keep the camp in order, and fourthly it was
named Harrisburg, and filthy Juneau The
last name was formally adopted by the min
ers at meeting Eeln in May, 1889, and in
ordering all Cinnamon out Of the district and
warning the race to stay away, which they
have done.
When the sun shines, as it has done to-day
and for two weeks past, Juneau is as charm
ing little mountain nook as one need seek
for. Tho mountains 60 SO straight up to
their 5000 feet that the little cluster Of white
houses at the base look as though they might
be bits Of the lofty snow banks that have
tumbled down the feathery cascades to the
beach. The site Of the mining camp in the
Silver Bow basin is even more picturesque
and the trail from Juneau plunges straight
up the mountain side, then down to a second
valley, and along the wild canyon Of Gold
creek and into the basin Of the Silver Bow.
All the way it leads through dense forests and
luxuriant bottom land, where the immense
pine trees the thickets Of ferns and DEVILS
club, and the rank underground Of bushes
and grasses continually excited ones wonder
We rose at $50 in order to go on. to the
basin and get back before the ship sailed at
10, and in the fresh, dewy air and the pure
light OF the early morning it was a walk
through an enchanted forest and happy
valley. The trail wound up to 1900 feet,
dropped by long jumps and slides to the first
level Of the canyon and reached 500 feet
above the sea again in the BASIN The DEVILS
club, a tall thorny plant, with leaves twelve
inches and more across, grew in impossible
clnmps in the woods, and the sunlight falling
on these large leaves gave tropical look to
the forest. The DEVILS club Is the prospectors'
dread, and the thorny sticks used to do to
switch witches with in the Indians old I'M
vilized days. Echnopauax horrida Is tho
botanist'S awful name for it, and that alone
is caution enough for one to avoid it, There
were thicsets Of thimble-berried bushes
covered with large creamy white blossoms,
and clusters of white ranunculus, white
columbne, blue geranium and yellow mon
key flowers grew in patches and dyed the
ground with their massed colors. The ferns
were everywhere, and under bushes and be-
siGe fallen logs delicate maiden hair ferns,
with fine ebony stems, were gathered by the
handful We met few well-dressed In
dians hurrying to town and an occasional
miner who gave us CHEEKY greeting.
Silver Bow basin is place to delight an
aesthetic miner In the way of landscape and
any one with soul In him would surely
appreciate that little round valley sunk deep
in the heart Of great mountains, with snow
caps on every horizon line, n glacier tipping
from great ravine, and waterfalls {. milling
noisily down the slope. Timing ourselves by
our watches, we fingered long ON the last
mile, sitting on log in the cool shade Of the
forest. where the trail almost overhnng the
little town. We could watch the people
walking in the streets beneath, and in the
STILL slumbering sunshine almost catch the
hum Of their voices. Pistol shots raised
crashing echoes between the high mountain
walls and set oil the big ravens to croaking
In hOarse concert.