Page 43 of A New World for the Irish Daughter

She’d made her choice, and she would live with it. Gladly.

And now, at last, they were arriving in Juneau, and for the whole voyage she’d barely seen Brendan at all. He’d checked on her once, when she’d been at her lowest with seasickness, and fetched her some fresh water and a sea biscuit, for which she’d been very grateful, even if he’d tersely brushed aside her stammered thanks.

Despite that kind intervention, anytime she’d strolled the deck with Danny and Da, or had gone to their cabin for a cup of tea and a chat, Brendan had made himself scarce.

Maggie was sorry for it, but at the same time she wasn’t. She’d made her choice, and so, it seemed, had Brendan.

Now she watched in avid curiosity as the town of Juneau loomed closer, a motley jumble of buildings—some three stories with impressive wooden facades, others no better than miserable shanties. There were log cabins, tents, and dwellings made from sheets of corrugated iron and old packing crates. It looked to be made up of only half a dozen streets, huddled against the sight of that towering wall of spruce, the waterfront a crowded jumble of wooden warehouses, shacks and sheds, the harbor filled with all manner of steamers and sailboats.

Juneau was, she’d learned during the voyage, a town of nearly two thousand people, with many more Indians of the Tlingit tribe besides, living in a collection of shanties and cabins alongside the town proper, by the tidal mudflats. The Tlingits worked in the gold mines of Douglas Island, which they’d passed as they’d entered the channel, its two hundred and forty ore hammers pounding away at the gold trapped in veins of glittering quartz, so the clattering racket filled the air and made Maggie want to cover her ears.

“You get used to it,” one passenger, a woman in her mid-forties who had a weatherbeaten face and a calm, confident manner, had told Maggie. She was returning to Juneau after visiting her daughter in Victoria; she’d been living there with her husband, who worked as a manager for the Treadwell mine, for eight years already, which was a long time for anyone to be in Alaska. Juneau had only been formed as a town fifteen years ago.

Treadwell was, the woman had informed Maggie, the largest hard rock gold mine in the world. “And the sound isn’t so bad from the mainland,” she’d assured Maggie. “Juneau music, they call it.”

Maggie had nodded, overwhelmed by everything she’d seen already. Earlier that morning, before they’d arrived in Juneau, the steamship had passed the most magnificent thing Maggie had ever seen—an enormous glacier, glittering as if it had been strewn with diamonds, rising seemingly all the way to the sky. A fellow passenger, not a cheechako like Maggie—the term used for someone new to this wild land—told her it was the Auk Glacier, renamed Mendenhall just a few years ago. It stretched thirteen miles in a river of ice to Mendenhall Lake.

Maggie had been mesmerized by the sight of the rushing water transformed to glittering ice, flowing over the hills in a ribbon of frozen beauty. As they’d passed by the glacier and come to the meadows and mountains around Juneau, she’d been struck by the verdant green of it all, especially in comparison to that frozen, flowing river of ice. She realized she’d thought Alaska nothing but an arctic wasteland, an endless expanse of snow and ice from which hardy, weatherbeaten prospectors pried a few flakes of gold from the unforgiving rock. It was an image that she’d absorbed without realizing it, from various shock-inducing articles in newspapers and magazines, but the reality was both different and far more awe-inspiring.

It was also troubling—as they’d gone past Douglas Island, she’d seen one of the veins of quartz from which they extracted gold, crushing the rock to profitable dust. It was a livid scar in the earth, a gaping maw of darkness so different from all the wild beauty around them. Maggie had been glad when the steamer had gone past the ruinous sight.

“Well, sure, and here we are,” her father announced cheerfully as he strolled up to her, bouncing on his heels. He nodded toward the approaching waterfront, the bright, blue-green water of Auke Bay lapping and foaming against the sides of the ship. “What a sight for sore eyes! And a bigger town than I expected. Why, I’ve been told Juneau has over twenty saloons!”

“None of which you’ll be frequenting, I hope,” Maggie replied, but she was smiling. She knew Danny and her father were both earnest about making their fortunes, but she could also imagine her father drinking away that fortune, meager though it might be, in one of the many drinking establishments of their new home.

And, in truth, Maggie acknowledged as the steamer came toward the wharf, Danny and her da had not been all that forthcoming abouthowthey were going to make their fortune. They talked about prospecting for gold, but the area around Juneau had already been played out by the giant Treadwell mine, and Maggie was quite sure neither her father nor brother wished to labor there, for wages. She’d heard enough speechifying this last week about being their own men, accountable to no one, to understand that, but she worried about what theywouldget up to.

But even with her extremely limited knowledge of this new and rugged land, she suspected they would have to travel much farther north and inland to find the undiscovered gold they were looking for. The thought made her uneasy; they hadn’t even stepped off the steamer yet, and already she was wonderingwhen her da would move on and leave them, the way he always did.

“Ah, lass, don’t you trouble your pretty head about your old da,” her father told her, patting her on the shoulder. “I’ll do my best to keep out of trouble. I’m making my fortune, remember.”

“First we need to find somewhere to stay,” she reminded him. “Then we can think about our fortunes.” She had some savings, enough, she hoped, to live for a few weeks until she’d found some work, hopefully nursing. She may not have her certificate, but she hoped her experience would count for something, especially here. As for her brother and father, she knew they had some money put by, as well.

And as for Brendan…

Maggie looked around the crowded deck, but she couldn’t see him anywhere. She’d barely seen him all week, and after their painful conversation it had been something of a relief, but now she wished she could at least catch sight of him. Surely he wasn’t planning to leave the ship without them? Despite the distance he’d kept during the voyage, she had assumed they would all stay together once they arrived in Juneau.

Soon enough, the steamer had docked, the gangplank was lowered, and passengers were disembarking amidst a jabber of excited conversation, hauling cases and finding their trunks, eager to step onto solid ground.

“Call on me when you’re settled,” the mine manager’s wife told her with a friendly smile. “Mrs. John Marks, on West 5thStreet. Ask anyone, they’ll know where I am.”

“Thank you!” Maggie exclaimed, touched by the woman’s kindness. It was comforting to think she might have already made a friend in this strange new place, and she looked forward to visiting her.

Once they were out on the wharf, Maggie breathed in the smell of brine and coal smoke, sawn wood and damp earth.All around her, things were happening—sailors hauling crates, passengers gathering their cases to head into town, seagulls circling overhead, their caws mingling with the clatter of the ore hammers a steady racket in the distance.

“Well, then?” Their father smiled at Maggie and Danny with his usual cheery, bright-eyed optimism. “Shall we find a boarding house? I reckon there will be plenty on Front Street. And then have a wander around and see what’s what!”

Danny was already starting off down the wharf toward the jumble of buildings that made up Juneau’s downtown, such as it was, when Maggie flung out her hand.

“Wait… what about Brendan?”

Danny stopped and wheeled around, and Maggie saw him and their father exchange an uneasy and loaded glance. Neither of them spoke.

“What?” she demanded. “Do you know something?” Her stomach hollowed out as she looked between them. No matter what Brendan had said on the boat, they were all in this adventure together… weren’t they?

“Well, lass…” her father began slowly, giving her a sympathetic, droopy-eyed smile.

“He’s coming with us,” Maggie insisted. She heard a raw note of panic in her voice and she didn’t care. “He’s come all this way,” she said, her voice growing more strident. “He’s coming with us,” she said again.