Hills of Silver: The Yukon's Mighty Keno Hill Mine (review)

Mining history has not been a terribly popular field of study in Canada in spite of the important role this industry has played in our national development. The nature of mining is mostly to blame for the dearth of quality work in this field. It is an exciting, dangerous, and risky business that tends to attract individuals who are larger than life. Naturally, the few mining histories that are published usually focus on storytelling rather than historiographical objectives. Stories sell better. Another deterrent is the peculiar language mining folk speak. Terms like winze, stope, foot walls, drift, dip, gouge, and slimes are part of their everyday vocabulary. And if the topic includes geologic or business aspects of mining, the technical verbiage can be daunting indeed. As a result, social history has been the field of choice for Canadian mining historians. The source material is more abundant, the level of technical expertise required to write it is not as demanding, and readership has been more receptive to social history. But a better balance is needed. More good mining history needs to be written in other fields of study, particularly business and technology.

As a Canadian mining business historian, I was thrilled to learn that a new book had been published in my field. Hills of Silver takes the reader on an exciting prospecting trip into the historical heart of Canada's northern resource development. Unlike its sister mining rush in the Klondike, discovery and development of Keno's silver mines during the first half of the twentieth century was a strung out, piecemeal affair bedevilled by erratic metal prices, complex geology, extreme remoteness, the harshest climate in North America, and unstable supplies of labor and capital. Aaro Aho tells us the story of the rugged men and women who beat these odds – or were beaten by them. But he has also chosen to vertically integrate his social history into every aspect associated with Keno Hill mining. He covered just about everything and everyone involved, from prospectors and rocks to camp cooks and toilets to financiers and bush planes. It is perhaps the most macro micro-history I have ever read.

At first glance Hills of Silver seemed to be what I have been waiting for: something about a Canadian mine that is more than a coffee table book, yet still attractive, readable, and informative. But initial appearances were deceiving. Although the book was recently published, it is not 'new.' Dr. Aho died in a farming accident near Ladysmith, BC, in 1977. The Keno Mining Museum acquired the manuscript and, after some posthumous editing, it was finally published in 2006. The subtitle, 'Mighty Keno Hill Mine,' is also misleading. Hills of Silver is not about one mine; it's about scores of them. Aho was undoubtedly trying to emulate Berton's Klondike. Both books have similar themes, formats, and appealing style. However, Aho was not nearly as good a storyteller as Berton – perhaps because he tried to tell too much. Berton wove his tale around fewer than a hundred characters. Aho seemingly incorporates a cast of thousands. It was a challenge to keep track of the countless characters as they appeared, disappeared, and then reappeared in later chapters. Hills of Silver was also slow getting started. The Keno mining claim isn't discovered until page eighty-one, roughly a quarter way through the book. A lack of continuity and focus was a serious problem. Chapter 19, 'Shooting in the Night,' is perhaps the best example. In the midst of a string of chapters chronicling business development of area mines, Aho injected this completely unrelated tale of a prospector's bizarre life and death. The author's eye for detail, while wonderful when he was in storytelling mode, could become overwhelming when he slipped into technical discussions of mining or geology. The narrative would also have benefited considerably if more maps were added in better...