A Little Klondike Tail

The already drunk miner passed out only half way through his half pail of beer.

Gertie won.

She slurped up all of her beer and the rest of his too, before lying down at Sam's feet and having a snooze to slowly digest all of those carbs now gurgling through the four stomachs in her bloated out belly.

She would keep on earning her daily bucket of milk by routinely drinking some disbelieving miner under the table before he had even half finished his beer. Crystal, had taken a shine to the little moose, and her owner, and offered to fetch her a pail of milk every day.

Thus was the legend of Yukon Gertie born!

And a beautiful friendship between Sam and Crystal born too.

*****

Crystal

I first saw Sam again when he walked into, 'The Last Chance Saloon,' with his moose and a couple of other out of luck miners. Something about his craggy good looks still got to me even after all of this time. I took a shine to him right away - and this time I no longer had a husband, so I wasn't burdened down with any guilt.

When they had Winnie feed a half bucket of beer to, Gertie, as they called her, I knew I had to do something.

I offered to get a pail of milk, for the poor little thing, from a fella, I called John, that I met the night before. He tried to impress me with how wealthy he was going to get by selling milk from his stock and kept telling me to come with him to his barn-like shack at the edge of town. I knew the place he was talking about - it had been abandoned by some bankrupt dreamer a while back and this fella was just squatting there. I wasn't impressed with his hogwash. He kept trying to jaw me into going with him and I told him I didn't do that, I was a professional dancer and one day I was going to be the feature Can-Can girl here.

He wouldn't take no for an answer and kept on a pestering me. Then before I rightly knew what was happening he quick as a snake grabbed my neck and pulled me into a wet slobbery kiss. I was so shocked at first I didn't know what to do; if I should just walk away, or slap him - or maybe slap him and then walk away, with maybe an insult or three thrown his way. Figuring that no one cared about the indignity he had done to me, I made my decision. I kneed him in the nuts so hard he decided to curl up on the floor and pass out right then and there. Winnie dragged him out of the way of the other girls still dancing with lonely miners, and things got back to normal.

Anyhow, the next day, I pocketed the two dollar difference I got for fetching the milk from the wanna-be future-millionaire who watched me warily and who was remarkable polite the whole time I was at his shack.

I took the time to remind him - I am not a Hoe. But I've got nothing thing against my 'sisters' that are - after all a girls got to make a living any way she can is this screwed up world.

They're mostly just wives dragged here against their better instincts by down on their luck, in the depression, men that had caught the 'Gold Fever,' and then abandoned - like my missing ne'er-do-well, and later to be confirmed drowned, chasing his dream, husband.

No. I had a plan!

I figured out that the only way to make money here was, not in grubbing around for a few ounces of gold in the muck, but by making money from the miners.

When the spring ice break up came and a leaky old steamer, the first of the fleet of the summer, finally nudged its bows into the muddy banks on the edge of town. It disgorged it's horde of gold-mad miners and a few dozen tons of much needed supplies before heading back down river nearly 1800 miles to the coast with a boat loaded with a few newly wealthy miners and a whole bunch of disillusioned, bankrupt losers. And a few thieves who were skipping town.

As the rumour mill filled in the, no doubt embellished, story some time later, amongst them was the, past tense, owner, Slink, of the, 'Last Chance Saloon.' As it came to light, he owed money to just about every merchant in town. Unfortunately for him, that included the American Whiskey Cartel that was on a booze laden steamer that was headed upstream at the same time as the steamer that Slink was trying to disappear on was headed down. And even more unfortunately for him they came upon him, Slinking away, when both steamers made a stop in Circle city Alaska at the same time - unable to convince them he was going to pay up everything he owed them, they relieved him of his poke to cover his bill.

The ravens enjoyed the Bonanza they discovered nailed to a tree.

Opportunity was dropped in my lap when the next steamer finally reached Dawson, the Cartel didn't care 'Whom' they just wanted to know that 'Someone' was going to be responsible for paying the bill on the new boatload of booze and beer they had brought up the river.

"Who is the new boss of this, Gin Joint?" demanded one particularly scruffy looking character.

I stepped up and said, "I am!"

They laughed.

"Women cain't own a Saloon...nor pay no bills, 'cept in one way."

That's when my new hero and saviour, Sam, stepped in and announced, "But, I can!"

*****

Sam

I had no intention of getting embroiled in the hoo-ha happening at the bar until the whiskey smuggler made his leering slur at Crystal.

I was kind of sweet on her. And I didn't like the rude suggestion he was making while staring at Crystal's modestly covered hoo-ha.

When I stood up and made my announcement, with the loaded and cocked Winchester pointed at them, I think they got the message. Especially after - whoops - it accidently went off and mortally, well actually murdered, a bottle of whiskey.

They suddenly became very quiet.

The tense moment, which could have become very violent was defused by Winnie's standard lament,

"Just so's yall's knows, I ain't cleaning that up!"

There was a collective groan by everybody in the silent saloon.

I had Winnie take the traders a new bottle, but the good stuff this time, and suddenly everybody was all friendly again.

Crystal came rushing across the saloon and flung herself into my arms. She mashed a couple of bounteous breasts into my chest and said, "Partner!" She proceeded to explore my mouth with her delicious tongue.

Then she turned to the wide eyed gaggle of girls, who had never seen the feature singer and dancer with any man, and said, "C'mon girls without these fine gentlemen's 'booze' we're out of business and out of a living - cough up your stashes." And they did, because they knew that without the Saloon to dance in, amongst other activities in the entertainment line, rather the hundred or so dollars they could make on a good night, that they would have to eke out a living as cooks or washer women or whatever for a measly sixteen or so dollars - the going daily wage.

The newly paid and suddenly flush from selling their 'hootch,' smugglers promptly gave back a significant portion of their profits by indulging in those ladies who were willing to rent out their 'cootch' for a short time.

Thus was our joint venture as Saloon owners with assorted delectable feminine shareholders born.

Winnie said, "Just so's y'all knows, I ain't lugging all that hooch in by myself."

"Oh man," said Morton, "Ok, I'll help."

Pretty much everybody in the saloon volunteered too, and soon made short work of it. That being seemingly thirsty work, necessitated a round or three of drinks and toasts - on the house, of course.

*****

Rose

I don't believe that Gertie knew what all the hubbub was about, but she was prancing up and down in unison - or maybe she just wanted to go outside and do her business. In any event she seemed really happy when I offered to throw a light coat on over my usual, casual, to say the least, petticoats and led her outside and down the road to, John, the milk cow miner's. On the way Gertie got distracted by the enticing smell of some new early spring water lilies and waded in and indulged her natural instincts, while I patiently enjoyed the early warm spring day waiting for her beside the swamp.

When Gertie had finished mucking about in the swamp water she got out and proceeded to rub herself all over me. In the process she transferred a considerable amount of wet moose odor to me, even somehow managing to wiggle her way under my coat.

We finished our mission to the millionaire turned farmer, who just wanted the pair of us, that he swore, "Smell worse than any pair of my goats," to collect what we had come for and leave as quickly as possible. But Gertie, growing girl that she was, had only wet her appetite, so to speak, on the tender young water lilies, and wanted to slurp down her pail of milk right then and there. While she was doing that I worked my wiles on John. In the end not only did I keep the five dollars I had started out with, I received another hundred as well, and usually I would have charged a lot more but it was all he had and I was feeling in a generous mood, it was such a nice day. After all I'm a French Can-Can dancer you know. But I did extract a promise whereby John would deliver the milk to the Last Chance daily.

Thus was the legend of the Milk Man delivering more than milk from just a cow, brought to the Klondike.

Gertie and I returned to the Last Chance.

I reeked of Moose and it was even more rank than the often unwashed for months miners that I took care of every night. I sure hope Ling, our Chinese washer woman or her granddaughter Lotus can get the smell out of my clothes.

Experienced professional that I am, I soon enticed Winnie, "Just so's you knows, I ain't fetchin' no bath water," to indeed fill the small circular galvanized tub, in my room, almost to overflowing with hot water by demonstrating the latest thing I learned in Montreal before coming north. I started off by humming a few bars of 'O Canada,' and kept on doing so as I engulfed Winnie's Weenie. He told me I could have a hot bath anytime I wanted for a repeat performance and he encouraged me to learn a few more bars.

Thus was the 'hummer' introduced to the Klondike.

"Just so's you knows, I can come back and clean up and empty this tub, if'n I kin wash yer back.

I accepted his kind offer.

Thus was Winnie's Bath Tub Service established.

And once word got out, also embraced by some of the other girls. In particular a pair that developed an unusually close bond, Cloe and her lesbian lover.

Thus was the name Clo'n'Dike coined.

*****

Grandma Ling and Her Granddaughter, Snow Lotus

Miss Rose agreed to teach my granddaughter, Snow Lotus, some French. This was in exchange for the extra care we took with her laundry - a fair trade. Plus she gave us a nice TIP, To Inspire Prompt service for our efforts. And we were sure to take very good care of our best customer.

I was too old and dried out for anyone to be interested in my 'Pink Pagoda,' besides I was just too tired for that kind of foolishness - that is for the young. But I had to think about, Snow Lotus's future. We had talked about this and she thought it was wise, and I agreed, that when the time was right we would ask Miss Rose to arrange for a wealthy and generous man to be the first to enter and worship at her 'Golden Temple.'

*****

Sam

Morton took the opportunity to lament to me, as we were busy slinging booze from behind the bar, to fill in for the mysteriously missing Winnie, about Bertha. "That bit in the marriage vows about, 'love, honor and obey,' seems to apply only to me."

"Is that what was going on the other day when you came running out of the kitchen and took off like a rabbit being chased by a wolf, out of the saloon's front door? With Bertha yelling, 'And don't you dare come back in here.'"

"Yes, pretty much."

"Well I think she vented all of her anger at you. After you left, Winnie, curious about what the ruckus was for, walked through the kitchen door. All we heard was a loud clang, and the next thing we knew Winnie staggered backwards out of the kitchen with brown beans in molasses running down all over his head and dripping on the floor."

All he had to say about it was, "Just so's y'all know, I ain't cleaning that up," and then he keeled over stiff as a board and passed out cold.

Bertha followed him through the door holding a mostly empty cast iron bean pot and said, "Sorry about that, I thought you were my husband."

Then she bellowed, "Ling...clean up in the bar."

Sam said, "But, all's well that ends well, no harm done now that you've made up."

"Yes, I suppose so, but to make nice I had to offer to put some homemade liniment onto her aching back - God I don't think I'll ever get the stink of that gunk out of my paint brush."

The miners were very pleased to find out that their favourite bar wasn't closing after the news of the previous owner's untimely demise. And those that had good claims and were flush, following the tradition standing the room to a round. Morton was soon quite busy weighing up pokes of gold.

*****

Crystal

I was busy dancing up a storm, with Rose and I doing an impromptu Can-Can on top of the bar, to universal approval and generous tips from the miners. The only way we got out of there without getting our virtues compromised - although, I heard Rose's was several times later that night for a goodly profit - was by the impressive bulk of Sam, and it didn't hurt that Morton was holding the Winchester, even though it's doubtful he knew what to do with it.

When the rush at the bar subsided, Sam and I found a moment to talk - Well we played kissy-face for a longer moment. But following that we got down to brass-tacks.

The first thing I insisted on was that the girls who worked in the saloon would receive a fair share of the profits that they generated. They were more than pleased to find out that they would get to keep two out of the three dollars that they charged for each three round set of dances. And half of the hundred dollars they charged for going upstairs and counting the ceiling boards while they were 'wishing they were somewhere else instead.'

Sam agreed to that.

The next thing that I insisted on was that the girls could demand that the oft-times mud-filthy miners wash their unmentionables before any fun began.

Sam agreed to that.

I knew we would have a long, profitable and agreeable relationship as soon as...

Sam agreed to my final demand that...we get married.

Now we just had to find the preacher and sober him up enough to do his duty.

We decided to postpone the wedding, until the preacher could be found. But get on with the honeymoon.

*****

Sam

How did this happen to me? I had always figured I would be a lifelong confirmed bachelor. But here I was enamoured with, and indeed betrothed to, a beautiful, bounteous, blonde vixen. She made me an offer that I just can't refuse.

I loved it.

The dance hall girls, as girls have done throughout all of known time, immediately got down to the serious business of planning the wedding.

And of course the miners, when they found out what was going on, started planting their pokes down on the bar and, as tradition dictated, standing the room to a round.

Winnie had traded in his mop for an apron and was tending bar while the miners were enthusiastically trying to get me drunk and just as enthusiastically trying to talk me out of this foolishness.

Fortunately nobody knew where the preacher was, or where he had crawled away to sleep off his current bender. He was finally found when the last of the ice melted in June. He was still clutching his last bottle of hooch but unfortunately was frozen stiff as a board.

*****

Winnie

Finally most of the revellers had staggered off to their tents and Gertie along with just about all of the rest of the girls were passed out on the floor - there were a few girls still upstairs still trying to squeeze a few ounces more gold out of the last of the over excited miners.

But I was busy cleaning up and smiling about all of the profit I had skimmed with the slightly oversized weights that B-B Slim had bought from Slink, which I used to measure out the miners pokes.

B-B Slim smiled back at me. He, with his crooked poker game, and I were partners and we planned to practice our thieving and sleight of hand schemes for one more year before we 'got the hell out of Dodge' as they say. Stealing somebodies gold was a hanging offence, as soon as you crossed the border back into the US and a lynch mob caught you. So, we planned to clean up here and then disappear back to civilization.

*****

Crystal

Back in our room, away from the madding crowd. We started out slow. Tentatively, almost shyly, kissing each other. Then as we warmed up to each other we mutually became more assertive. I could feel Sam's rampant rod rubbing up against my butterfly filled womanhood.

We shucked off our outer garments.

He first tried rubbing my breasts through my whale-bone armoured corset. Finding that too frustrating he started to undo the yard long lace. Once free of their confining prison cell, as it dropped to the floor, my boobs bounced free and stood up proud. Sam appreciatively started to tweak my nipples which soon stood out and turned rubbery hard.

I was busy undoing buttons on his long-johns and I finally hit pay-dirt when his dick poked free.

All the time we were kissing and feeling on each other as the rest of our clothes headed for the floor.

I impatiently waited as I made him take off his boots.

Both of us kept our wool socks on.

We clambered onto the bed and under the triple layer of scratchy woolen Hudson's Bay blankets.

*****

And Sam

I was trying to kiss Crystal and play with her beautiful body at the same time. She said in a musky voice,

"Forget that stuff, I want to taste my 'big boy.'" And she dove below the covers and proceeded to engulf little Sammy in her warm, liquid mouth.

I had never even heard of such a thing.

But I liked it.

I thought I was getting ready to burst when she popped back up from underneath the blankets and said, "Your turn!" while firmly pressing my head down where she wanted it to go.

To say I was unsure what I was supposed to do would be an understatement. But Chrys soon guided my efforts to what areas she wanted my tongue to explore. All the time she was holding the outer lips of her hairy bush back and revealing the delectable Crinkle of her inner lips. I soon began to like lapping on that too and soon the whiskers of my clit tickler were sopping wet with her delightfully tasty juices. And decided it would become a regular feature of our future mutual pleasuring.

She started to buck and squeeze my head between her thighs - then she let loose with a powerful flood.

I had never heard of that either.

She panted out, "Now...I want you in me now!"

Well, 'Momma didn't raise no slow pokes,' and I was soon poking away for all I was worth.

And then we both soon saw the 'Northern Lights.'

We fell asleep sated and happy in each other's warm embrace.

I was rudely jolted awake the next morning, in the middle of a happy waking dream of doing something with my morning woody finding a happy home in some warm moist place, by Gertie pulling the blankets off the bed with her teeth and sticking her cold, wet nose on my ass.

I supposed it was her way of reminding us it was time for her morning pail of milk. And the Milk Man, as it turned out, was busy somewhere else in the establishment, after having left Gertie's milk on top of the bar.

From then on, for the next few months that we remained in the Yukon, we locked the bedroom door.

*****

Epilogue:

Gertie

Demonstrating that legendary sixth sense that some wild animals have, Gertie, who had grown to almost six feet tall on the rich cow's milk supplemented by what she grazed in the swamp, had a last bucket of beer with the old gang. And after finishing her beer, when Winnie returned to inquire if a refill was required, raised her stubby but now grown tail and had a satisfying dump on his shoes.