The Red Front Sheep Camp Supply Company in Yukon Territory, c. 1890s
On August 16, 1896, an intrepid American prospector named George Carmack embarked on a remarkable journey alongside his Tagish wife, Kate Carmack, her brother Skookum Jim, and their nephew Dawson Charlie. Venturing into the untamed wilderness south of the Klondike River, guided by the counsel of a seasoned Canadian prospector, they directed their hopes towards Bonanza Creek, then known as Rabbit Creek—a tributary of the majestic Klondike.
Was it George Carmack or Skookum Jim who first glimpsed the gold's dazzling embrace? Regardless, in a fateful decision driven by apprehension, the group conspired to attribute the discovery to George Carmack, fearing that the establishment would dismiss the rightful claim of an indigenous claimant.
Carmack meticulously demarcated four claims along the river, securing two for himself and one each for Jim and Charlie. The official registration of these claims transpired the following day, and word of their find spread like wildfire, igniting the enthusiasm of countless other prospectors in the Yukon River valley.
Before the close of August, Bonanza Creek had become a coveted realm, completely claimed up by zealous miners. Yet, one daring prospector ventured further, embarking upon the creeks that cascaded into the Bonanza. There, in the embrace of Eldorado Creek, he unveiled new veins of gold that proved to be even more bountiful than those on Bonanza. As winter's icy grip tightened, news of this golden marvel reached the distant Circle City, kindling a relentless desire in fortune-seekers' hearts. Undeterred by the treacherous season, these brave souls embarked on dog-sleds, driven by an insatiable hunger to lay their hands on Klondike's natural treasures before the choicest claims were seized. The icy rivers forbade passage until June 1897, when the first boats set sail, bearing witness to the freshly unearthed gold and the timeless tale of these remarkable discoveries.
Thus began the Klondike stampede—a fevered chapter in history that beckoned 100,000 souls to traverse perilous paths in pursuit of the Klondike goldfields. However, only a fraction, around 30,000 to 40,000, would ultimately arrive. It marked the pinnacle of the Klondike gold rush, spanning from the summer of 1897 to the summer of 1898.
Economically, the news struck the United States amidst a tumultuous series of financial recessions and crippling bank failures that plagued the 1890s. Psychologically, as historian Pierre Berton eloquently said, the Klondike was "sufficiently distant to be romantic and sufficiently accessible to be attainable."
Most prospectors—estimated at 60 to 80 percent—were either Americans or recent immigrants to America. Many lacked any experience in mining, having previously toiled as clerks or sales associates. The exodus of staff from their posts to join the gold rush became legendary, with even the mayor of Seattle, William D. Wood, resigning to establish a company dedicated to ferrying prospectors to the Klondike. The surge in popularity surrounding the gold rush birthed a flurry of branded merchandise, saturating the market with clothing, equipment, food, and medicines cunningly marketed as "Klondike" goods tailored for the rugged northwest. The era's newspapers coined this all-consuming phenomenon "Klondicitis," encapsulating the craze that swept across the land.
