The Brave Boys of Anyox part 3
August 17, 0430. Alice Arm, BC
The birds started to sing at 4:30 in the morning as the very first bit of colour came into the sky from the east. Magnus listened quietly for a minute, then sat bolt upright. The events of the day before returned to him all at once. Zacharias noticed his friend wake up, and he rolled over onto this side.
“Zach,” Magnus whispered. “I’ve been thinking. The adults just won’t believe the Germans are here until they see it themselves.” Zacarias nodded, following along. “By then it will be too late.” Magnus continued. “We gotta keep going ‘til we can find a telegraph that still works, or something. Can we get to Stewart if we keep going up this valley?”
“Yeah, I think so,” replied Zacharias. “You just follow the river until it you cross over the high ground and start following a different river. To Meziadin Junction. But it’s really far. Days and days. The Germans would get away by then. Or be in Vancouver.
“We have to keep trying,” said Magnus. “We can’t just give up.”
“There is another way,” said a grown-up’s voice. The two boys were startled. Sitting in a chair on the veranda, in the dim light, was Joe McGrath, the prospector from the night before. He drew a cigarette case from his jacket and lit one. The boys could not tell if he had come back to this spot, or if he had been sitting there all night. “There is a mule trail up Lime Creek, across the bay. “It’s not much of a trail, and there is no good reason to use it. A boat can bring everything right here no trouble. But it takes you over the mountain, and down to the Nass River. I’m going to Lime Creek now. But first breakfast.”
They could smell bacon cooking. McGrath entered the hotel and the boys followed. In the dining room sat Constable Gordon at a table with several other men, well into their breakfasts. Two other tables were occupied by groups of what could only be miners, tattered and grizzled. Olaf Evindsen hovered over his dining room chatting, while the patrons ate their huge breakfasts. McGrath and the boys sat down at an empty table next to the policeman.
“Well boys,” said Gordon “you are either heroes, or this will be a prank for the history books.” Magnus started to say something, but Gordon interrupted. “You’ve convinced me to go, don’t talk me out of it now.”
“I still can’t believe the German navy would come here,” said one of the men at Gordon’s table. “I mean… here.” He was Harry Fowler, the owner of the steam launch Awake. He was trying to find his niche with a regular passenger ferry between Alice Arm and Anyox.
“There is a world war going on, Harry,” said McGrath. “The great empires are fighting to the death in Europe, and China, and Africa, and the Holy Land. Why not here?”
“We shall find out soon enough,” said Gordon, pushing his empty plate away. “Gentlemen?” The other two men at his table rose, and they all headed for the dock. Gordon grabbed his lever action Winchester that he had left leaning against the dining room wall.
Svea, Mrs. Evindsen, brought breakfast out from the kitchen to the boys personally. “Hello Magnus, hello Zacharias. I hear you have had an epic journey. Please eat.” A young waitress presented McGrath with his plate, and for a while the only sounds were of chewing. When they were finished, one of the tables of miners walked over to McGrath, and they all rose to leave. Mrs. Evindsen appeared again, to give the boys some very well provisioned bag lunches, and wish them well.
“We are prospecting up Lime Creek today.” McGrath said as they walked to the dock. The other two men each pushed a wheelbarrow full of supplies. “Someone staked a claim there on a vein of Molybdenite. Try saying that three times fast!” The boys did. “Don’t know what it’s good for, but someone will find a use someday. Then there will be a molybdenum rush. The owner has these guys doing some improvements to the adit ore dump, and he keeps me on retainer as a caretaker. I have a feeling there are other veins there, further up the valley, just waiting for me to find them.”
At the dock, the two miners loaded the boat. McGrath tossed in his backpack. All got in and the men started up the engine, a one cylinder diesel under a lid in the middle of the boat. The boat pulled away from the dock, making a slow put-put-put sound. First they stayed in the main channel of the Kilsault River, to avoid the mudflats, when they go to deep water the man at the tiller steered for the mouth of Lime Creek, due south across the bay, about a half-mile away.
“Don’t feel bad that those dullards didn’t believe you,” said McGrath. “The problem you will find with most adults is they lack imagination. You have to sit them right down in front of something for them to believe it. As for myself, I spend my days walking through the wilderness, hammering on rocks, imagining that just over the next rise is a vein of gold that will make me rich as King George himself. If I had been blessed with a lack of imagination, I would get to be a shopkeeper with a family in some little town, instead of wading through mosquito infested swamps, and falling off cliffs.” Further down Alice Arm, in the distance they could see the running lights of the Awake headed towards Anyox.
Most of the progress of the miners’ boat came from the tide going out rather than the engine. They cut across to the far shore, then let the current carry them to the outlet of Lime Creek, where a crude wharf had been constructed. They tied up to the wharf, unloaded the boat, and walked up the ramp to shore. McGrath opened up a log house, which turned out to be a stable for the mine’s mules.
“Keeps out the bears,” McGrath said of the stable. The mules were happy to be let out, and trotted around the clearing, before allowing themselves to be loaded with the miner’s boxes. A train was formed of 4 mules carrying cargo, and 5 bearing riders. Two more followed, unladen. It took them an hour uphill to reach the mine site. They climbed down and tied up the mules. By this time the sun was shining on the north face of the higher mountains. From the mine clearing, they got a fine vista down Alice Arm, but Anyox was hidden behind intervening mountains. They could just make out the omnipresent cloud over the town, the top of which was now up in the sunlight.
“This isn’t much of a mine,” said Magnus. McGrath laughed. Indeed it was not compared to the Hidden Creek or Bonanza mines of Anyox that Magnus was familiar with. This was one rough shaft, some diamond drill holes, a scatted pile of spoil, and some shacks.
“Behold, The Canadian Girl Mine,” said McGrath with a sweeping arm gesture. “Every mine starts like this. Most stay like this. This is still in exploration. When…”
The distant sound of explosions cut him off. Everyone stopped. More explosion sounds followed. With the echoes it was hard to tell how many.
“Those are not underground explosions.” said McGrath.
“No they ain’t,” said one of the other miners, and they both nodded. The miners did not talk much, but then knew explosions.
Magnus and Zacharias stood stock still, looking at the haze cloud above Anyox. They imagined they could see orange patches appear in the lower reaches, as if the cloud was backlit.
Explosion sounds continued, followed by echoes.
“We’re too late!” said Magnus “We’re too late.” He sat down and covered his head with his hands.
The party was silent, confronted with the dual calamities of the far away destruction and Magnus’s disappointment.
“No, we gotta keep going,” said Zacharias. “The Germans still have to make a get away. They can still catch them.”
The explosion sounds continued, sporadically. In between, by some trick of sound propagation in the mountains, the boys could hear the faint but unmistakable sound of foghorns.
https://search-bcarchives.royalbcmuseum.bc.ca/alice-arm-bc
The birds started to sing at 4:30 in the morning as the very first bit of colour came into the sky from the east. Magnus listened quietly for a minute, then sat bolt upright. The events of the day before returned to him all at once. Zacharias noticed his friend wake up, and he rolled over onto this side.
“Zach,” Magnus whispered. “I’ve been thinking. The adults just won’t believe the Germans are here until they see it themselves.” Zacarias nodded, following along. “By then it will be too late.” Magnus continued. “We gotta keep going ‘til we can find a telegraph that still works, or something. Can we get to Stewart if we keep going up this valley?”
“Yeah, I think so,” replied Zacharias. “You just follow the river until it you cross over the high ground and start following a different river. To Meziadin Junction. But it’s really far. Days and days. The Germans would get away by then. Or be in Vancouver.
“We have to keep trying,” said Magnus. “We can’t just give up.”
“There is another way,” said a grown-up’s voice. The two boys were startled. Sitting in a chair on the veranda, in the dim light, was Joe McGrath, the prospector from the night before. He drew a cigarette case from his jacket and lit one. The boys could not tell if he had come back to this spot, or if he had been sitting there all night. “There is a mule trail up Lime Creek, across the bay. “It’s not much of a trail, and there is no good reason to use it. A boat can bring everything right here no trouble. But it takes you over the mountain, and down to the Nass River. I’m going to Lime Creek now. But first breakfast.”
They could smell bacon cooking. McGrath entered the hotel and the boys followed. In the dining room sat Constable Gordon at a table with several other men, well into their breakfasts. Two other tables were occupied by groups of what could only be miners, tattered and grizzled. Olaf Evindsen hovered over his dining room chatting, while the patrons ate their huge breakfasts. McGrath and the boys sat down at an empty table next to the policeman.
“Well boys,” said Gordon “you are either heroes, or this will be a prank for the history books.” Magnus started to say something, but Gordon interrupted. “You’ve convinced me to go, don’t talk me out of it now.”
“I still can’t believe the German navy would come here,” said one of the men at Gordon’s table. “I mean… here.” He was Harry Fowler, the owner of the steam launch Awake. He was trying to find his niche with a regular passenger ferry between Alice Arm and Anyox.
“There is a world war going on, Harry,” said McGrath. “The great empires are fighting to the death in Europe, and China, and Africa, and the Holy Land. Why not here?”
“We shall find out soon enough,” said Gordon, pushing his empty plate away. “Gentlemen?” The other two men at his table rose, and they all headed for the dock. Gordon grabbed his lever action Winchester that he had left leaning against the dining room wall.
Svea, Mrs. Evindsen, brought breakfast out from the kitchen to the boys personally. “Hello Magnus, hello Zacharias. I hear you have had an epic journey. Please eat.” A young waitress presented McGrath with his plate, and for a while the only sounds were of chewing. When they were finished, one of the tables of miners walked over to McGrath, and they all rose to leave. Mrs. Evindsen appeared again, to give the boys some very well provisioned bag lunches, and wish them well.
“We are prospecting up Lime Creek today.” McGrath said as they walked to the dock. The other two men each pushed a wheelbarrow full of supplies. “Someone staked a claim there on a vein of Molybdenite. Try saying that three times fast!” The boys did. “Don’t know what it’s good for, but someone will find a use someday. Then there will be a molybdenum rush. The owner has these guys doing some improvements to the adit ore dump, and he keeps me on retainer as a caretaker. I have a feeling there are other veins there, further up the valley, just waiting for me to find them.”
At the dock, the two miners loaded the boat. McGrath tossed in his backpack. All got in and the men started up the engine, a one cylinder diesel under a lid in the middle of the boat. The boat pulled away from the dock, making a slow put-put-put sound. First they stayed in the main channel of the Kilsault River, to avoid the mudflats, when they go to deep water the man at the tiller steered for the mouth of Lime Creek, due south across the bay, about a half-mile away.
“Don’t feel bad that those dullards didn’t believe you,” said McGrath. “The problem you will find with most adults is they lack imagination. You have to sit them right down in front of something for them to believe it. As for myself, I spend my days walking through the wilderness, hammering on rocks, imagining that just over the next rise is a vein of gold that will make me rich as King George himself. If I had been blessed with a lack of imagination, I would get to be a shopkeeper with a family in some little town, instead of wading through mosquito infested swamps, and falling off cliffs.” Further down Alice Arm, in the distance they could see the running lights of the Awake headed towards Anyox.
Most of the progress of the miners’ boat came from the tide going out rather than the engine. They cut across to the far shore, then let the current carry them to the outlet of Lime Creek, where a crude wharf had been constructed. They tied up to the wharf, unloaded the boat, and walked up the ramp to shore. McGrath opened up a log house, which turned out to be a stable for the mine’s mules.
“Keeps out the bears,” McGrath said of the stable. The mules were happy to be let out, and trotted around the clearing, before allowing themselves to be loaded with the miner’s boxes. A train was formed of 4 mules carrying cargo, and 5 bearing riders. Two more followed, unladen. It took them an hour uphill to reach the mine site. They climbed down and tied up the mules. By this time the sun was shining on the north face of the higher mountains. From the mine clearing, they got a fine vista down Alice Arm, but Anyox was hidden behind intervening mountains. They could just make out the omnipresent cloud over the town, the top of which was now up in the sunlight.
“This isn’t much of a mine,” said Magnus. McGrath laughed. Indeed it was not compared to the Hidden Creek or Bonanza mines of Anyox that Magnus was familiar with. This was one rough shaft, some diamond drill holes, a scatted pile of spoil, and some shacks.
“Behold, The Canadian Girl Mine,” said McGrath with a sweeping arm gesture. “Every mine starts like this. Most stay like this. This is still in exploration. When…”
The distant sound of explosions cut him off. Everyone stopped. More explosion sounds followed. With the echoes it was hard to tell how many.
“Those are not underground explosions.” said McGrath.
“No they ain’t,” said one of the other miners, and they both nodded. The miners did not talk much, but then knew explosions.
Magnus and Zacharias stood stock still, looking at the haze cloud above Anyox. They imagined they could see orange patches appear in the lower reaches, as if the cloud was backlit.
Explosion sounds continued, followed by echoes.
“We’re too late!” said Magnus “We’re too late.” He sat down and covered his head with his hands.
The party was silent, confronted with the dual calamities of the far away destruction and Magnus’s disappointment.
“No, we gotta keep going,” said Zacharias. “The Germans still have to make a get away. They can still catch them.”
The explosion sounds continued, sporadically. In between, by some trick of sound propagation in the mountains, the boys could hear the faint but unmistakable sound of foghorns.
https://search-bcarchives.royalbcmuseum.bc.ca/alice-arm-bc
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