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 PRAISE FOR THE BOOK

“Dr. Cosby’s fundamental work is lighting a path for pastors,

activists, and community members who are committed to an
interpretation of Scripture that specifically defines our predicament
as a tyrannized group and daringly confronts our oppressors.
In Getting to the Promised Land, Dr. Cosby gifts us with a new
lens through which to understand and utilize the Bible. He has
developed the essential biblical hermeneutic for Black clergy
members looking to understand the situation of American
Descendants of Slavery (ADOS) in the twenty-first century and make
the Word of God maximally relevant to their congregations.”
—YVETTE CARNELL, cofounder of the ADOS movement (ADOS); founder
and host of Breaking Brown YouTube channel; former congressional aide to
Senator Barbara Boxer (D-CA) and, later, former Congressman Marion Berry
(D-AR); author of articles that have appeared in The Huffington Post,
Counterpunch, and YourBlackWorld; and featured guest on national news
outlets, including The Nation, The Guardian, Politico, and NPR

“Dr. Cosby takes the foundational elements of ADOS concepts and

weaves in theology with a unique and daring perspective. Reading
Getting to the Promised Land definitely pushes us forward on the
road to reparative justice.”
—ANTONIO MOORE, cofounder of the ADOS movement, attorney in Los
Angeles, coproducer of the Emmy-nominated documentary Crack in the
System presented by Al Jazeera, and host of a weekly radio show called
Tonetalks that covers issues from mass incarceration to wealth inequality

“Reparations for centuries of racist structural obstacles to African

American capital formation is a subject of great controversy today. A
crucial aspect of that question is who among Black Americans should
be eligible for reparative relief. In an exciting paradigm shift, Kevin
Cosby eschews the biblical Exodus motif that is usually invoked with
regard to Black America’s plight and instead presents a passionate,
cogently argued case for using the prophet Nehemiah and the Bible’s
post-exilic accounts to contend that, rather than all Black people in
America, only those who are the descendants of racially enslaved
Americans should be eligible for such relief. This is a brilliantly
thoughtful, novel approach to the reparations debate that should be
required reading for everyone with even a minimal investment in
that debate. Kudos to Kevin Cosby for this timely, crucial
intervention.”
—OBERY HENDRICKS, Professor of Religion and African American and Afro-
Diasporic Studies, Columbia University; and author of Christians against
Christianity: How Right-Wing Evangelicals Are Destroying Our Nation and
Our Faith

“Kevin Cosby has forcefully traced out the distinct identity, suffering,
and future of American Descendants of Slavery (ADOS). The
distinctiveness of this identity is to refuse any more ‘comfortable’
identification as ‘Afro-Americans,’ as the history and identity of
erstwhile US slaves that matters in their long abusive bondage is
‘American,’ not African. Cosby shrewdly rereads Scripture that pivots
around the figure of Nehemiah, the key figure in the restoration of
displaced Israel. His reading of Scripture helps to illuminate both the
history to which ADOS have been subjected and the prospects for
restoration and rehabilitation in American society. Because the issues
for ADOS are largely economic (being ‘cheap labor’ for so long!),
Cosby is compelling in his insistence that restoration of ADOS into
US society must include reparations. This hard-hitting book is a
welcome continuation of our education in the truth of our common
history and is an urgent read for all those who care about the future
of our society. I am glad to commend the book and its courageous
author.”
—WALTER BRUEGGEMANN, William Marcellus McPheeters Professor
Emeritus of Old Testament, Columbia Theological Seminary; an ordained
minister in the United Church of Christ; and author of dozens of books,
including Sabbath as Resistance: Saying No to the Culture of Now,
Interrupting Silence: God’s Command to Speak Out, and Truth and Hope:
Essays for a Perilous Age
“As foundational truths about our country’s historical trajectory of
enslavement and dehumanization of African Americans are trying to
be replaced with ‘alternative facts,’ Dr. Cosby calls us to reorient our
moral, ethical, and theological compass toward the distinct
experience of descendants of slaves. This harrowing experience
stands alone in US history and must not be morphed into an
amalgamation of oppressions that seek to universalize suffering.
Fixing our gaze on the particular plight of African American people
and making restitution for the centuries of economic exploitation and
human degradation will move us closer to the truth that will set us
all free. Nothing less than this will do.”
—LEAH GUNNING FRANCIS, Vice President for Academic Affairs and Dean
of the Faculty, Christian Theological Seminary, Indianapolis, Indiana; and
author of Ferguson and Faith: Sparking Leadership and Awakening
Community

“Getting to the Promised Land gives powerful thought to the search

for a new strategic vision for Black liberation and to the national
debate over reparations. Dr. Cosby, distinguished pastor and
president of Simmons College in Kentucky, deftly employs the less-
known life of the Hebrew prophet Nehemiah to animate the author’s
own vision of liberation and reparations and to empower the
movement he helped create to further his vision. Dr. Cosby’s
wisdom, moral passion, and gift for storytelling make this an
essential work for the Black world and the wider world as well.”
—STEWART BURNS, Professor of Ethical & Creative Leadership and of Martin
Luther King Studies, Union Institute & University; and author of the Wilbur
Award-winning biography of Martin Luther King, To the Mountaintop

“Dr. Kevin Cosby has masterfully reimagined theology by

intentionally focusing on the experiences of ADOS. His book is a
much-needed wake-up call for everyone but especially for followers
of Jesus committed to Black liberation and reparations for ADOS. In
the same way that Dr. James Cone’s brilliant mind gave birth to
Black liberation theology, Dr. Cosby’s refreshing treatment of Black
liberation theology that is ADOS-centric challenges, reproves, and
exhorts us to reenvision realities and possibilities. WOW!”
 —WENDELL GRIFFEN, Pastor, New Millennium Church, Little Rock, Arkansas;
Arkansas trial judge; consultant in cultural competency and inclusion; and
author of The Fierce Urgency of Prophetic Hope

“Dr. Kevin Cosby’s book is the clearest articulation and the most
compelling argument, from a Christian perspective, of the nature of
the ADOS movement and its legitimate claim for equity and
reparations. Founded by Yvette Brown and Antonio Moore, the ADOS
movement is a grassroots effort that is arguably the most significant
struggle for justice in the Black struggle for freedom in America. Dr.
Cosby maintains that the ADOS movement is the legitimate heir to
the original intent of Martin Luther Kings’s work in the civil rights
movement. And he insists that every Black church, still committed to
its legacy as a leader in the Black freedom struggle, should be a
partner in the ADOS effort. To make his case, Cosby ingeniously
argues that the church must make a paradigm shift from Moses to
Nehemiah for best insights into moving forward in the struggle. His
book is a courageous, thought-provoking, truth-telling work that is
centered in Christ, supported by Scripture, bathed in love, rooted in
hope, and committed to completing the work for real justice for
ADOS.”
—F. BRUCE WILLIAMS, Senior Pastor, Bates Memorial Baptist Church,
Louisville, Kentucky

“In this important book, distinguished preacher and teacher Dr.

Kevin Cosby introduces a theology of ADOS. Rather than using the
narrative of Exodus and liberation, Cosby mines the stories of
Nehemiah and the return of the Jews to rebuild Jerusalem after the
exile. As he calls ADOS to the work of repair, he calls the white
community to the work of reparations. This book will challenge many
to rethink what the next steps must look like in rebuilding Black
institutions and communities.”
—CYNTHIA M. CAMPBELL, President emerita, McCormick Theological
Seminary; and retired Pastor, Highland Presbyterian Church, Louisville,
Kentucky
“In his book Getting to the Promised Land, Kevin Cosby provides
keen insight and a spiritual, social, and moral challenge to face with
integrity the ongoing struggle for social justice and empowerment of
the Black community. His argument for reparations gives clarity that
Black people are not beggars but builders who make their claim for
equal access to the resources that make for a usable future. In this
remarkable work, Cosby calls for contemporary leaders to remember
that after four hundred years of free labor white America wrote a
check to Black America that came back marked insufficient funds.
Religious, social, and civic leaders today must continue to call our
nation to a place of accountability. God bless Dr. Kevin Cosby for this
challenging and inspirational book!”
—WALTER MALONE JR., Pastor and Founder, Canaan Christian Church,
Louisville, Kentucky
 Getting to the
Promised Land
Black America and the
Unfinished Work
of the Civil Rights Movement

Kevin W. Cosby
 © 2021 Kevin W. Cosby
Foreword © 2021 Westminster John Knox Press

First edition
Published by Westminster John Knox Press
Louisville, Kentucky

21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30—10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any
form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in
writing from the publisher. For information, address Geneva Press, 100
Witherspoon Street, Louisville, Kentucky 40202-1396. Or contact us online at
www.wjkbooks.com.

Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations are from the New Revised
Standard Version of the Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian
Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., and are
used by permission. Scripture quotations marked BSB are from The Holy Bible,
Berean Study Bible, Copyright ©2016, 2018 by Bible Hub. Used by permission. All
rights reserved worldwide. Scripture quotations marked CEV are from the
Contemporary English Version. Copyright © 1991, 1992, 1995 by American Bible
Society. Used by permission. Scripture quotations marked GNT are from the Good
News Translation in Today’s English Version, Second Edition Copyright © 1992 by
American Bible Society. Used by permission. Scripture quotations marked NASB are
taken from the New American Standard Bible, © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971,
1972, 1973, 1975, 1977 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.
Scripture quotations marked NIV are from The Holy Bible, New International
Version. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc. ® Used by
permission. All rights reserved worldwide. Scripture quotations marked NLT are
taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright 1996, 2004. Used by
permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. All rights
reserved.

Book design by Sharon Adams

Cover design by Nita Ybarra

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Cosby, Kevin W., author.
 Title: Getting to the promised land : Black America and the unfinished
work of the civil rights movement / Kevin W. Cosby.
Description: First edition. | Louisville, Kentucky : Westminster John
Knox Press, 2021. | Summary: “Pointing to the stories of Nehemiah,
Daniel, Solomon, and other biblical leaders for guidance on how to
rebuild Black America, Kevin W. Cosby challenges all Americans to
move from a place of relative nonengagement and detachment to a
place of active support of the American Descendants of Slavery’s
(ADOS) efforts for justice and healing”— Provided by publisher.
Identifiers: LCCN 2021011147 (print) | LCCN 2021011148 (ebook) |
ISBN 9780664265458 (paperback) | ISBN 9781646981977 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: African American leadership. | African Americans—
Civil rights. | Leadership in the Bible. | African Americans—
Reparations | United States—Race relations.
Classification: LCC E185 .C763 2021 (print) | LCC E185 (ebook) | DDC
323.1196/073—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021011147
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021011148

Most Westminster John Knox Press books are available at special quantity
discounts when purchased in bulk by corporations, organizations, and special-
interest groups. For more information, please e-mail [email protected].
This book is dedicated to St. Stephen Baptist Church, an
institution that has never wavered from the historic mission of
the Black church to promote ADOS group empowerment and
ADOS group political advocacy. May we continue to infuse
those values into our collective experience.
 Contents

Foreword by Cornel West

Preface
Introduction

1. Replace the Exodus Hermeneutic with a Postexilic One: Regain

a Singular Focus
2. Solomon: No Coalitions with the Mighty Until We’ve Lifted
Weights
3. Daniel: Put on Ethnic Armor and Reject the Illusion of Inclusion
4. Cyrus’s Decree: No Liberation without Reparation
5. Ezra: Lineage Alone as a Call to Specificity for ADOS’s Unique
Justice Claim
6. Esau: A Good Lesson from a Bad Example
7. Hanani’s Mission to Expose Pseudo Innocence: Most of Us Ain’t
Movin’ On Up
 8. Nehemiah Wept: ADOS Leaders Must Weep and Speak Up for
Our Community
9. Nehemiah’s Leadership: Mobilizing ADOS to Take Care of ADOS
Business
10. Servants, Not Celebrities: Nehemiah, Ella Baker, and Exemplary
Leadership for ADOS

Conclusion: Beginning to Name Tenets of ADOS Theology

Acknowledgments
Notes
 Foreword

I n the Reverend Dr. Kevin Cosby, the ADOS movement has a true
love warrior. And when I talk about love warriors, I am speaking
about a specific group of folk who really love the people. You see,
when you genuinely love folk, you hate the fact that they are being
treated unfairly; you loathe the fact that they are being treated
unjustly. And you know that if you don’t do something about it, then
the rocks are going to shout out! That is the tradition that we in the
Black freedom struggle come from. And so it is in these consecrated
pages written by our dear brother Kevin Cosby.
Dr. Cosby understands that reparations is about two things. First,
it is about truth. And he knows that the condition of truth is that you
must allow the suffering to speak. Second, reparations is about
justice; it is about understanding where the damage is, who did it,
and then where that offending party needs to direct the repair. The
Black freedom struggle in America, from the very beginning, has
always been in pursuit of these two things: truth and justice. And
reparations is simply one of the ways in which our quest for truth,
and our quest for justice, is brought to bear on white supremacy—an
ideology that says Black history is a curse, Black freedom is a pipe
dream, and Black hope is a joke.
 Now of course we know that is not the case. We come from a
great people. We come from a grand tradition. There is no other
group of people in the modern world who’ve been terrorized under
slavery and Jim Crow Jr. and Jim Crow Sr. and who have still—
despite these horrible experiences—taught the world so much about
freedom. There is no other group of people who have been
traumatized for four hundred years and still manage to teach the
world so much about healing. You can hear it in our music; you can
see it in the way we connect with one another. And while we as a
people have been hated so chronically, institutionally, and
systematically for four hundred years, we have nonetheless taught
the world so much about how to love. Just turn on John Coltrane’s
“Love Supreme” or Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On?” Listen to
Stevie Wonder’s “Love’s in Need of Love Today,” or read James
Baldwin’s love-soaked essays or Toni Morrison’s Beloved; see Mama
on the stage in Raisin in the Sun and see how there’s never been a
character on the American stage full of so much love in the history
of the whole nation, in the history of the whole empire! And what
Kevin Cosby’s book proves is that there ain’t no stopping us now.
Brother Cosby proceeds from this fundamental truth: that you
don’t love Black people because you want them to love you back;
no, you love them because they’re worthy of being loved. And just
like tenderness is what love feels like in private, justice is what love
looks like in public.
Somewhere I read that love takes away your fear, that love takes
away your intimidation. In the Black community we used to have
churches and mosques where we had genuine, fearless leaders. The
problem is that in the 1960s so many of our love warriors were
assassinated or incarcerated. And we ended up with polished
professionals who acted as if they were leaders when what they
really wanted to be was well-adjusted to injustice.
I’m reminded about how there used to be a brother named
Sylvester on the organ in my church every fifth Sunday, but he’s
known to the world for the genius that he is as Sly Stone. And Sly
Stone wrote a song that went “Stand! There’s a cross for you to
bear, things to go through if you going anywhere.” In other words,
we don’t need cowards or conformers. If you’re scared, get out of
the way. Now that’s old school, and what’s beautiful is that today we
got new school here. The ADOS movement is the new school, and in
this book Brother Cosby brings a new interpretation of the book of
Nehemiah to undergird and inform the righteousness of this new
movement of love, of truth, of justice.
People have said that the ADOS movement is flawed because
they’re being so specific when they talk about their group being so
distinctive. People say that the ADOS movement is about putting
other folk down. But read Kevin Cosby’s words in this book and I
believe that you’ll come away with a much deeper and honest
understanding about what this movement really signifies. At its core,
Kevin Cosby’s book is talking about love. Brother Cosby knows that
you don’t love Black people by putting other folk down. That’s white
supremacy! Those who espouse white supremacy stand tall by trying
to keep us on our knees. We love each other in and of itself. And
then, when the love spills over, it’s even more real. But let me tell
you this: we are in a moment where the polished professionals too
often love everybody but Black people. That’s what I can’t stand. Oh
no, now I’m a Christian. Now, I love everybody, and I’m gonna be
faithful unto death, but I’m gonna tell you this: I’m loving the
chocolate side first. How can I not? How can I love the other side if I
don’t love myself? Love your neighbor as yourself. Learn how to love
yourself and then love your neighbor, and it will necessarily spill over.
ADOS has got nothing against other Black people. They know
that Caribbeans and African folk are beautiful too, but that as ADOS
we need to love ourselves, and in so doing we can then make sure
the love is equally spread. That’s what I believe Dr. Cosby’s book is
here to tell the world. This book demonstrates to us, above all, the
importance of loving ourselves first, so that we may properly love
others.
Cornel West
Other documents randomly have
different content
inclines are so steep that we had all the sensations of a giant roller-
coaster as we dashed uphill and down. I expected a collision every
time another car passed. Now we shot around a curve where a slight
skidding might have hurled us into a ravine; and now climbed a hill
where the trestle-work trembled beneath us. We rode for some
distance through “Lovers’ Lane,” a part of the ninety acres of forest
in the public park, and later climbed the steep slope of Acropolis Hill.
On top of Acropolis Hill we inspected the city’s waterworks. The
supply is carried to a reservoir here from Lake Woodworth, five miles
away. The reservoir, which has been dug out of the rock, contains a
million gallons of water more than the regular needs of the city.
On another part of the hill are the municipal tennis courts and
baseball park. The tennis courts are made by laying a level plank
floor upon the uneven surface of the rocks, and erecting about it
fences of wire netting so high that the balls cannot possibly fly over
and roll down the steep slopes of the mountain. The ball park was
blasted out of the rock. It is so situated that the hills about it form a
natural grandstand, and consequently admission is free. The players
are paid by passing the hat.
We have a good view of Prince Rupert from Acropolis Hill. In
front of us is the harbour, sparkling in the sunlight and backed by
mountainous islands of green. Behind us are forest-clad hills, lost in
the clouds, and below is the city, connected with the mainland by a
great bridge of steel. The business section is made up of two- and
three-story frame buildings, painted in modest colours. Here and
there the spire of a church rises above the other roofs; and should
you take your spyglass you might pick out the signs of banks, stores,
and real-estate offices.
There are many comfortable one- and two-story wooden
cottages rising out of the muskeg. The people have blasted out the
stumps in making the foundations for their homes, and some have
brought earth and stones and built up level yards with lawns as
green and smooth as those of old England. All kinds of vegetation
grow luxuriantly. There are many beautiful flowers, and the town is
green from one end of the year to the other.
 The climate here is milder than in Baltimore, Richmond, or St.
Louis. The mean temperature in summer is about sixty degrees
Fahrenheit, and in winter the thermometer seldom falls below eight
or ten above zero. There is but little snow in the winter. The rainfall
reminds me of that of southern Chile, where they say it rains thirteen
months every year. Because of the dampness the frosts are heavy,
and they sometimes cover the roads to a depth of three inches. Then
the people have tobogganing parties on these roller-coaster
highways.
Prince Rupert started with a boom. The town was planned and
partially developed before a single lot was offered for sale. The
Grand Trunk Pacific Railway decided upon the site, named it after
the first governor of the Hudson’s Bay Company, who was the
nephew of Charles I, and sent its engineers to clear the land, level
the hills, and lay out the city. The railway owned twenty-four
thousand acres of land and the first sub-division covered one twelfth
of that area. The future city was advertised, and auctions were held
in Victoria and Vancouver. The first lots brought high prices, and the
boom continued until the war halted its progress.
The inhabitants believe this city will become a great port and that
it will some day have a population of one hundred thousand or more.
With a view to the future, the city has built the largest floating dry
dock on the Pacific coast. It has cost more than three million dollars
and will accommodate ships up to six hundred feet in length and
twenty thousand tons capacity. Nearly three thousand vessels enter
the harbour in a year, and this number is on the increase.
Prince Rupert lies so far north on the globe that it is five hundred
miles nearer Yokohama than are Vancouver and Seattle. Moreover,
the journey from western Canada to Europe is shortened by the
railroad route from here to the Atlantic. England is only about four
days from Halifax. The Canadian National runs from there to this port
in one continuous line across the continent. It crosses eastern
Canada far north of the Great Lakes and from Winnipeg goes
through the wheat belt to Edmonton. It climbs the Rockies by easier
grades than any other road. It has short cuts by various connections
to all the United States cities, and it promises to be the fast freight
route for perishable products between Alaskan waters and the rest of
the continent.
The city is two days nearer Alaska by steamer than are the
Puget Sound ports, and travellers from the eastern parts of Canada
and the United States can reach there that much sooner by coming
here over the Canadian National.
The fisheries of British Columbia are the most valuable in the
Dominion. Prince Rupert has become one of the fishing centres of
the Pacific and the chief halibut port in the world. It has thirty-five
canneries and seven large cold storage plants, and scores of steam
vessels, sailing boats, and gasoline launches go back and forth
between here and the fishing grounds. About fifty American vessels
land their catches at this port every week, and every train that goes
eastward over the railway carries carloads of fresh fish to the cities
of the United States.
Halibut are caught for nine months of the year, twenty million
pounds being landed here in a single season. The moment they are
taken from the sea they are packed in ice for shipment or put into
cold storage. I am told that the fish can be kept perfectly fresh for a
month by the present method of packing. During the summer as
many as a half dozen carloads are shipped in one day. More than a
quarter of a million pounds were recently sent to New York and
Boston in a single trainload.
 Prince Rupert has miles of streets made of
planks, upheld by trestle work, or resting on the rock
underlying the city. Most of the streets and building
sites were blasted by dynamite from the sides of the
mountains.
 British Columbia leads all Canada in the value of
its fisheries, of which Prince Rupert is the centre.
More halibut is brought here each season than to any
other port in the world.
 The animals, birds, and fish surmounting the
totem poles are the family crests indicating the
different branches of an Indian tribe at Kitwanga, not
far from Prince Rupert. The poles number a score or
more, and some are a hundred feet high.
 The chief salmon fisheries of the Pacific coast are farther north
in Alaska, but nevertheless British Columbia’s catch is worth ten
million dollars a year. At Vancouver I saw the fleets of salmon
trawlers in the mouth of the Fraser. There are many salmon fisheries
near the mouth of the Skeena, not far from Prince Rupert, and forty
per cent. of all the salmon packed in the province is put up in this
city. The fresh fish are shipped only during the summer months, but
they are exported in a frozen state from the cold storage plants
throughout the winter.
 CHAPTER XXXI
BY MOTOR CAR THROUGH THE
WILDERNESS

I have come into the Yukon Territory from Alaska. The trip from
the land of Uncle Sam to that of John Bull was made over the route
followed by thousands of gold seekers in the first great Klondike rush
in the winter of 1897, when the prospectors made their way on foot
over that frozen pass. It is now summer, and I have come from
Skagway to White Horse, where I am now writing, on the White Pass
Railway.
My first journey into the interior of the Yukon has been a motor
trip of a hundred miles on the overland trail that runs from here to
Dawson. The car was of American make, the chauffeur was
“Caterpillar Ike,” and the time was yesterday from midday to
midnight. We dashed through virgin forests, climbed mountains, flew
around dizzying curves, and skidded along narrow cliffs until my
heart was in my throat but my soul was full of thrills.
The overland trail begins at White Horse and runs through the
wilderness for a distance of three hundred and fifty miles to Dawson
at the mouth of the Klondike. It is more than one hundred miles
shorter than the river trip to the gold mines, and it is used to carry
mail, passengers, and freight during the cold winter months when
everything in this region is locked tight by Jack Frost.
The road through the forest climbs over ranges of mountains,
winds its way through the valleys, and crosses swamps, bogs, and
sloughs of mud that sticks like cement. In many parts of its course it
twists about like a corkscrew, as though the surveyors had laid their
lines along the trail of a rabbit, and a drunken rabbit at that. Here it is
bedded on rock, and there it half floats on a quicksand covered with
corduroy logs. In the spring of the year the six-horse teams of the
mail stage are often mired to their bellies, and have to be lifted from
the waxy clay by a block and tackle attached to the trees.
My ride over the trail took me as far as the crest of the range
beyond Little River, whence I returned to White Horse to go down the
Yukon by steamer. The motor trip was a moving picture of the
wonders of nature. On each side of the roadway the country is the
same as it was when Columbus discovered America; it is the same
as when the Scandinavian navigators drifted down our coast about
1000 A. D.—yes, I venture, the same as it was when old Cheops
built his great pyramid on the banks of the Nile. With the exception of
several log huts where meals are served to travellers, there were no
signs of human habitation, and aside from the roads, old and new,
not one mark of human labour. We were in no danger of meeting
other machines or farm wagons, although we might have run down a
covey of birds instead of the usual chicken, or a fox or a bear in
place of a dog. At one time a lynx leaped across the trail in front of
our machine, and later a great flock of grouse passed over our
heads with a whirr. I am told that hunters sometimes bag a good lot
of birds on this route by shooting them from automobiles.
All sorts of animal tracks were to be seen as we rode over the
trail. The woods are full of bears, brown and black, caribou in great
numbers, and wide-antlered moose. There are foxes and lynx and
millions of rabbits. We passed groves of small trees, every one of
which had been killed by the rabbits. They had eaten the bark off
during the winter, beginning when the snow was two or three feet in
depth and biting it away inch by inch as the snow melted, until a belt
of white a yard wide girdled each tree. The bark above and below
was dark green or brown, and the white shone out like ivory. Beavers
and muskrats abound in the streams, and there are many kinds of
squirrels, as well as gophers, that burrow like moles under the
roadway. We crossed many such burrows, our motor car hitting them
with a bump that shot us from our seats, so that our heads struck the
top.
 Upon starting from White Horse we were told of a narrow escape
from a bear that one of the railroad clerks had had only the night
before. This man had gone out to a lake in the woods about five
miles away and made a good catch of fish. He was riding home on
his bicycle when a big black bear rushed out of the forest and upset
him. Fortunately, he fell near a dead root. He seized this as he
jumped up, and hit old Bruin a blow on the snout. Then, before the
bear had time to recover, he mounted his bicycle and sped away. But
the bear got the fish.
Our first stop was twenty-two miles from White Horse, at the
Tahkeena road house, on the Tahkeena River, where there is a
famous Irish cook, Jimmy. The road house is built of logs and heated
by a stove made of a hundred-gallon gasoline tank. The tank lies on
its side, resting on four legs made of iron pipe. A stovepipe is fitted
into the top and a door is cut in one end. The result is an excellent
heating device, and one that is common in many parts of Alaska and
the Klondike. We got a snack at this road house on our first stop and
had an excellent dinner there on our return.
We crossed the Tahkeena River on a ferry boat attached to a
cable worked by the current. We then rode on through a parklike
country, spotted with groves of pine trees, each as high as a three-
story house, as straight as an arrow, and, branches and all, no
bigger around than a nail keg. I cannot describe the beauty of these
trees. Where they were thick we rode for miles through walls of
green twenty or thirty feet high, and in places where the trees had
been burned by forest fires the walls were of silver, the dead
branches having been turned to the most exquisite filigree.
The trees here are like those of most parts of interior Alaska.
They grow in the thin soil, nowhere more than six inches or so deep,
which is underlaid by strata of earth that have been frozen for
thousands of years. The moss on the top of the soil acts as an
insulator and keeps the ice from melting except on the surface. The
roots go down to the ice and then spread out. When a tree dies one
can easily pull the stump out, roots and all, and throw it aside. The
overland trail was cleared in this way, and the sides of it are fenced
with piles of such trees.
 We are accustomed to think of this part of the world as all snow
and ice. That is so in winter, but in summer the whole country is as
spotted with flowers as a botanical garden. During our ride we
passed great beds of fireweed and motored for miles between
hedges of pink flowers, higher than the wheels of our automobile.
The woods that had been swept by forest fires were dusted with pink
blossoms, and in the open spaces there was so much colour that it
seemed as though Mother Nature had gone on a spree and painted
the whole country red. In one open place where we stopped to put
on a new tire, I picked nineteen varieties of wild flowers. Among
them were roses of bright red, and white flowers with petals like
those of a forget-me-not. There were also blue flowers the names of
which I do not know, and daisies with petals of pink and centres as
yellow as bricks of Klondike gold.
The mosses were especially wonderful. One that looked like old
ivory grew close to the ground in great patches. It reminded me of
the exquisite coral of Samoa and the Fijis. I am told that this moss is
the favourite food of the reindeer, and that the caribou paw their way
down through the snow to get it. Another curiosity found here is the
air plant. I have always thought of orchids as confined to the tropics,
but in this part of the world are polar orchids, great bunches of green
that hang high up in the trees.
The character of the country varied as we went onward. Now our
way was across a rolling plain, now the road climbed the hills, and
again it cut its way through the mountains. At one break in the hills
we could see the Ibex Range, with glaciers marking its slopes, and
its peaks capped with perpetual snow. In other places the mountains
were as green as the hills of the Alleghanies, and they had the same
royal mantle of purple. Just beyond the Tahkeena River we rode
through a valley walled with mountains from which the earth had
been torn by a cloudburst a few years before. The faces of the green
hills were covered with clay-coloured blotches and they looked as
though they had been blasted by leprosy or some earthy plague.
We crossed one little glacial river after another, and rode through
valleys that are covered with ice in the winter and become soup
sloughs in the spring. A great part of the way was over what is
known as glacial clay. This clay is solid when dry, but when moist it
has the consistency of shoemakers’ wax and, like a quicksand,
sucks in anything that goes over it. A railroad track built on it and not
well protected by drainage may disappear during a long rainy
season.
The labour of keeping the overland trail in order reminds one of
that of Hercules cleaning the Augean stables. The road bed has had
to be filled in and remade again and again. The route is changed
from year to year. Now and then we passed an old roadway that had
become so filled with boulders that a man could hardly crawl over it.
This region had no rain for three months until day before yesterday,
when enough fell to change the whole face of Nature, and make this
glacial clay like so much putty. Our automobile weighed more than
two tons, and we had to go carefully where there was any doubt as
to the condition of the clay. At one wet spot we found ourselves
down to the axles, with the wheels held fast in the mud. We had
brought with us an axe and a long-handled shovel for use in just
such an emergency. We cut down trees and made a bed of branches
in front of the car. A pine track was put under the wheels and a pine
tree used as a lever to aid the jack in getting the car out of the mud.
It took us about two hours to dig the machine from the clay and get it
on the firm road bed. After that when we came to soft clay we turned
out and sought new roads through the grass or rushed over the wet
spots to prevent the car from sinking.
The overland trail is used almost altogether during winter,
although the Canadian government keeps it in such a condition that
it is fit for travel in summer. It is, on the whole, better than most of
Uncle Sam’s roads in Alaska, and in the winter makes possibles
regular mail service into the Klondike. The freight and the mail are
carried on great sleds hauled by six horses, with relays at the
various road houses. Each house has stables for the horses and at
some of them there are sleeping accommodations for passengers.
At the Tahkeena road house I saw a great stack of horse feed
that had been brought up the Tahkeena and cached there for the
winter, and at the Little River road house I saw one of the sleds used
for carrying foodstuffs and other perishables into the Klondike during
the cold season, when the thermometer may fall to seventy degrees
below zero. The sled was a covered one, large enough to carry three
or four tons. It was so arranged that carbon heaters could be placed
in troughs around its bed. These heaters keep the tightly covered
load from freezing. Such sleds are drawn by four or six horses,
according to the state of the roads.
The Canadian government has already spent a great deal on
this road, and its upkeep costs thousands of dollars a year. Within
the last few years the trail has been much improved for the use of
automobiles. The first time an automobile road was proposed many
people scoffed at the idea and said that it could not be done. The
matter came up before the Parliament at Ottawa and was discussed
pro and con. An appropriation of fifty thousand dollars had been
asked. The objections made were that automobiles could not be run
in the low temperature of the Yukon, and that the road was so rough
that the machines could never make their way over it.
 Built at the height of the Klondike gold rush, the
White Pass Railway transported thousands of
prospectors and millions of dollars’ worth of gold
during the first few years of its existence. It is one
hundred and eleven miles long and connects
Skagway with White Horse.
 For more than half the year the Yukon River is
covered with ice, and then mail, freight, and
passengers for the interior are carried on sleds by
way of the Overland Trail from White Horse to
Dawson.
 “Our first stop was at the Tahkeena roadhouse,
famous for its Irish cook. It stands on the banks of the
Tahkeena River, which we crossed on a ferry.”
This discussion occurred in the midst of the winter, and while it
was going on the Honourable George Black, who was then
Commissioner of Yukon Territory, decided to show parliament that
the undertaking was practicable. He made an arrangement with C. A.
Thomas, the resident manager of the Yukon Gold Company at
Dawson, to take a forty-horse-power automobile over the trail. With a
chauffeur, the two men left Dawson when the road was covered with
snow and the thermometer far below zero. The long winter nights
were at hand and the sun shone only an hour or so every day. The
darkness was conquered in part by a locomotive headlight on the
front of the car.
The trip to White Horse and return was made within fifty-six
hours, of which thirty-six hours was actual running. The distance of
seven hundred and twenty miles was covered at an average speed
of twenty miles an hour for the running time of the round trip. During
the journey the thermometer fell to fifty-six degrees below zero, but
the air was dead still, and wrapped up as they were in furs, the men
did not realize how cold it was until they came to a road house and
read the thermometer.
It was necessary to keep the machine going continuously, for
during a stop of even a few minutes the engine would freeze and the
oil congeal. At one time their gasoline gave out and they had to stop
twenty miles away from a road house they had expected to reach. A
dog team was found and sent on to the road house, but while they
waited the engine froze and the oil became stiff, and they had to
build a fire under the car with wood from the forest before they could
start off again. When they had completed the journey and returned to
Dawson the bill for the road appropriation was just coming up for
action. The news of their trip was telegraphed to Ottawa and the bill
was passed.
 CHAPTER XXXII
FROM WHITE HORSE TO DAWSON

Within the last fifteen days I have travelled by foot, by rail, and
by steamer from the headwaters of the Yukon to Dawson, a distance
of five hundred miles. The river has one of its sources in the coast
range of mountains only fifteen miles from the Pacific Ocean. It starts
as a trickling stream of icy cold water and winds its way down the
hills to Lake Bennett. On the White Pass Railway I rode twenty-five
miles along the east shore of that lake to Caribou, and thence for an
hour or so farther to White Horse. That town is at the head of steam
navigation on the Yukon, from where one can go for more than two
thousand miles to the mouth of the river on Bering Sea, not far from
the Arctic Ocean.
The Yukon makes one think of Mark Twain’s description of the
Mississippi, which he knew so well as a pilot. He said: “If you will
peel an apple in one long paring and throw it over your head, the
shape it will have when it falls on the floor will represent the ordinary
curves of the river.”
Let me take you with me on my trip down this looping river. In its
upper reaches, it winds about like a snake. It narrows and widens,
now measuring only a few hundred feet from shore to shore, and
now almost as broad as a lake. It is full of sand banks, and there are
rocky cañons through which our boat shoots, its sides almost grazing
the cliffs.
Our ship down the Yukon from White Horse is the little steamer
Selkirk, drawing between four and five feet of water. Nevertheless, it
is so skilfully handled that it twists and turns with the current and at
times swings about as though on a pivot. Now the pilot throws the
boat across the stream and lets the current carry it along, and now
he drives it through the rapids, putting on steam to make the paddles
go faster.
In addition to the boat itself we have a great barge to care for.
Most of the freight that goes down the Yukon is carried on barges
pushed along in front of the steamers. The load of to-day consists
largely of cattle. The barge is enclosed in a high board fence, within
which are eight cow pens, with a double-deck sheep-fold at the back.
There are one hundred and fifty beef cattle in the pens and two
hundred live sheep in the fold. The animals were brought by rail from
Calgary to Vancouver. There they were loaded on a Canadian
Pacific steamer and carried through the thousand miles of inland
waterways that border the west coast of the continent to Skagway.
They were then taken over the mountains on the White Pass
Railway, and are now on their way to Dawson, where they will be
transferred to another steamer that will push them a thousand or
fifteen hundred miles more down the Yukon.
The freight charges are so heavy that the animals selected must
be of a high grade. The steers average three fourths of a ton and
several of them weigh close to two thousand pounds each. They
were raised on grass and are now fed on the bales of alfalfa piled
around the edge of the barge.
 From White Horse, at the head of navigation on
the Yukon, during the open season from June to
October one can travel by steamer down that river for
two thousand miles to Nome on Bering Sea.