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The most of Anvil Creek was staked by this party before they returned to the mines at Council City, fifty miles up Fish River from Golovin Bay. "On July second, 1899, a second cleanup was made on number one above Discovery Claim, Anvil Creek, the property of J. Linderberg.
This arrangement included our party of seven, Mary at Nome, and the three boys at work at this time on the new Home building, and would do away with all necessity for building a cabin, lumber being expensive and good logs scarce. Our first duty after arriving at Golovin was to look up our freight, which seemed to be in a general mix-up.
Then a large, heavy drop would strike firmly and again the fast, spring melody resounded distinctly. And over the city, above the roofs of the fortress, hung a pale redness in the sky reflected by the electric lights. "U-ach!" Sergey Golovin heaved a deep sigh and held his breath, as though he regretted to exhale from his lungs the fine, fresh air.
Taking the wrong fork at the delta of Fish River, it looked for a while as if we should be stranded on the mud-flats and obliged to return to the proper channel; but by getting out and pulling the boat, which drew practically no water, we soon were well off, wading into the Golovin Bay.
And this strange,, terrible, uncouth creature was he, Sergey Golovin, and soon he would be no more! Everything became strange. He tried to walk across the cell and it seemed strange to him that he could walk. He tried to sit down and it seemed strange to him that he could sit.
The day after our arrival at Golovin was Sunday. The weather was clear and sunny, but cold. We were now not only to have a vacation ourselves, but could give our working clothes a rest as well, and I took great pleasure in unearthing a good black dress which was not abbreviated as to length, surprising my friends by my height, after being in short skirts so long.
The man who was nearest to the judges called himself Sergey Golovin, the son of a retired colonel, himself an ex-officer. He was still a very young, light-haired, broad-shouldered man, so strong that neither the prison nor the expectation of inevitable death could remove the color from his cheeks and the expression of youthful, happy frankness from his blue eyes.
She had never had any children; she was still young and red-cheeked, just as Sergey Golovin, but she seemed as a mother to all of them: so full of anxiety, of boundless love were her looks, her smiles, her sighs.
As to the means of reaching it, information was scanty, and that somewhat discouraging, but certainly the thing to do was to go by boat east about seventy-five miles to the mouth of Golovin Bay, from which point we should have to travel up shallow rivers some fifty or sixty miles to Council City.
We fancied our friends on the outside would be glad to hear that we had arrived safely at Golovin, and our pens flew rapidly over the paper. These letters, finally collected, were placed in the hands of one of the "Elk's" crew for mailing at Nome, and the steamer sailed away. Not all, however, wrote letters.
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