Screenland (May–Oct 1927)

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COMER MFG. CO., Dept. 36-L, Dayton, Ohio SupGrfluoujHAIRallGONE Forever removed by the Mahler Method which kills the hair root without pain or injury to the skin in the privacy of your own home. Send, today 3 red stamps for Free Booklet We Teach Beauty Culture D. J. MAHLER CO., 37-B, Mahler Park, Providence. R. I. On The "Trail of 98 (Continued from page 37) through that of our new friend. Such a character as this was not going to escape my reporter's grasp. As we made our way back to the train he said, "Say, the Klondike ain't no place for a woman. You got no business bein' up here." "This is a movie company on location," I said sternly. He smiled. "Ain't it funny? When I seen Chilkoot Pass again I guess I sorta forgot where I was at. Took me back to '98. I was in the gold rush." I insisted that he come right into our car and as we seated ourselves I asked the assistant director who he was. "Just an extra man," he said. "Good type. With a beard." Well, I have been through the Klondike gold rush twice. Once with Clarence Brown. Once with Slim Morgan. During those four weeks of the most terrific hard' ships that any motion picture company has ever endured, the scenes of those first mad days were re-lived. Slim Morgan's career was as varied as it was colorful. At the age of 25 he had taken a steamship from San Francisco and had crossed over Chilkoot Pass with thousands of others. When he reached Dawson City his work as a prospector began. Not once did he find riches. But his faith in the future remained. Gold had gotten into his blood and his life became a series of pilgrimages to various strikes. At the age of fifty-four he had discovered himself in California searching the hills for gold. There were those who had called him crazy, i And then he saw an announcement in the paper that Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer was shortly to produce "The Trail of '98" an epic of the north from the famous Robert W. Service novel. Slim Morgan came down into Culver City and applied for work. "Good type", someone said in the casting office. And Slim was hired as an extra. And here he was re-living the days when, as a lad, so full of hope, so full of the enthusiasm for gold he had ploughed his way to the Yukon River. The amazing part about him was that he had never lost faith in the future. He is as confident now as he was the day he read the newspaper account of the unlimited wealth to be found in the Klondike and that some day he would make a strike. Most of our days were spent at work. And such work! I shall never forget one scene. Picture, if you can, two thousand men weaving their way like ants, up, up, up that steep grade. Backs bent to the packs they carried (Clarence Brown had tried to "get away with" fake packs but the effect was not the same, so the bags were loaded). The blinding blizzard, and the wind — always the wind — an incessant accompaniment to the grinding of the camera. Twenty minutes' work and then rest. Clarence Brown did not once ask any man or woman to do anything that he himself did not do. In fact he worked harder than anyone else. Frozen faces. Frost bitten fingers. The camera on parallels and moving cars being whipped by the elements. That long, agonizing trip up, up, up, over the pass being made again and again. The hundreds of dogs and every other animal that could possibly draw a burden through the snow (The malamute leader, born on the Manitoba Pass in 1921, died from the cold). The snow slides that came without warning — one of them was almost fatal to two men. The breath taking altitude and the wind. I do think that the wind was almost the worst of all. That is the way I went through the '98 gold rush with Clarence Brown and his company. Handsome Ralph Forbes, so gently reared, taking it all like a veteran. Big Karl Dane, almost weeping when the mountain sickness hit him and he thought he could not work. Sweet old Tully Marshall, who bore up like the good scout he is. Amusing Polly Moran, with her ubiquitous smart cracks, that broke the stern faces. Sturdy Harry Carey and all the rest, working to put over an historic motion picture. Slim Morgan went through the work with the pack on his back as he had done in the real days. There was a fanatical look in his eyes sometimes, I believed. And several times I know that he had stepped back over the years, had completely forgotten that he was a motion picture extra and was once €[ Jacqueline Gadsden and the German police dog who appears with her in "The Thirteenth Hour".