Alaska nl]u Qamelands J. A. mcQUIRE -5. 0 - ,ff - IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS J. A. MCGUIRE Introduction by WILLIAM T. HORNADAY (Photographs by the author) CINCINNATI STEWART KIDD COMPANY PUBLISHERS COPYRIGHT, 1921 STEWART & KIDD COMPANY All Rights Reserved COPYRIGHT IN ENGLAND Set up and Electroplated by THE ABINGDON PRESS Published April. 1921 Co THOSE PRINCELY SPIRITS OF OUR LA.VD WHO HAVE GIVEN, IN TIME AND MONEY, THAT OUR PRECIOUS MAY BE PRESERVED TO POSTERITY THIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED BY IURL OC/ 30 6 01 (T CONTENTS Chapter Page Introduction, by William T. Hornaday - - 9 I Enroute to the Hunting Grounds - - - - 15 II In the Goat and Glacier Fields ----- 45 III Russell Glacier -----------71 IV Sheep — Both White and Dark — a Digression - 81 V On the Sheep Ranges -------- 101 VI Sheep, Moose and Caribou - - - - -119 VII Moose and Caribou ----____ 141 VIII Rams and Caribou ......... 163 IX A New Species of Caribou — Rangifer mcguirei 179 X Homeward Bound --______ 187 XI Outfitting Hints _ _ _ 199 XII Afterthoughts - 214 ILLUSTRATIONS No. Page 1. Good-bye to home for seventy days - - - 18 2. Our first impression of traveling on a glacier — the Nizina. Going goat hunting this morning 58 3. Scene of a busy camp. Everybody must work during packing-up time ______ 68 4. Crossing, 'midst grand surroundings, a glacial stream, the Frederika -------74 5. Cliffs, canyons and hills of the glacial moraine — Russell Glacier -------- 78 6. Upper picture — A "kettle-biled" lunch in the caribou country. Middle — How a sheep specimen was damaged by eagles. Lower — A large white sheep -------88 7. The beautiful Kletsan camp on White River - 96 8. The "Too-Much" Johnson cabin, Kletsan Creek 106 9. Upper picture — The author and 45-inch moose. Middle — Grayling fishing on Harris Creek. Lower — A fly came in handy to sleep under at Skolai Pass --------- 144 10. Skinning specimens in the taxidermist's tent - 152 11. Left picture — Mr. James and his night abode for six weeks. Middle — The author and a nice specimen of white sheep. Right — A horse falls in a crevice on Nizina Glacier - 170 12. Group of rangifer mcguirei - - - - - -182 13. Type specimen of rangifer mcguirei - - - - 184 14. The singular dentition found in rangifer mcguirei --------- - 190 15. Nearing the end of Russell Glacier, twenty- four horses in line --------194 1 6. Route traveled by the party in Alaska and Yukon Territory ........ 210 INTRODUCTION T/^IEWED from any side or angle, a long, arduous and costly expedition from Denver to the north-eastern boundary of Alaska in the interest of museum groups of wild animals well may be regarded as a tribute to the Museum Group Idea. Moreover, as hunting trips go, that kind of "game" is well "worth the candle." Up to this time, the term "habitat group" is of new coinage, and very generally unknown. In a few words, it stands for an assemblage of important zoological specimens that have been mounted by the taxidermist's art, surrounded by natural or artificial trees, plants, flowers, rocks, land and water, either drawn from or made to represent the natural haunts of the beasts or birds, and displayed in a museum case specially designed for it. The animal specimens must be the finest of fine. The accessories must be provided lavishly, and with consummate skill. Each large group of this kind represents a tour deforce, and many of them are masterpieces of real art. They are expected to endure for a century or longer, and to interest and instruct millions of people long after the species represented have been exter- minated by the grinding progress of modern civilization. INTRODUCTION Many sportsmen have gone far, risked much and toiled long in the procuring of rare animals and accessories for habitat groups. In the list of unpaid men who have done so, we find the names of Theodore Roosevelt, Col. Cecil Clay, John M. Phillips, Childs Frick, Richard Tjader, C. V. R. Radcliffe, W. S. Rainsford and the author of this volume. Work of this kind appeals particularly to sportsmen with an inborn love for creative work, and delight in the construction of fine, monu- mental things out of the raw materials. Mr. McGuire first "tasted blood" in the making of museum groups when he hunted and killed the largest specimens for the splendid group of silver- tip grizzly bears that now is a source of pride to his home museum in Denver. Beyond a doubt, it was the joyous contemplation of that master- piece, so ably and satisfactorily wrought out by and under the direction of Director Jesse D. Figgins, that inspired the trip over the long trail to Alaska and Yukon Territory, and here do I ask this question: What finer sentiment could inspire any trip in quest of big game than the intent to bring into existence two or three great habitat groups to entertain and to educate Americans, old and young, long after Time has overtaken the gallant hunter, and his rifle has been hung up forever? I have seen "the White River country" of North-eastern Alaska and Yukon Territory re- 10 INTRODUCTION ferred to as "the last big-game hunting ground of North America." Can it be true that this claim, or feeling, constituted Mr. McGuire's reason for going over 300 miles from salt water to look for big game? Where are the giant moose, the Kenai caribou and the white sheep of the Kenai Peninsula? Where are the moose that were so big and so abundant in the Susitna val- ley only twenty years ago? Where are the white sheep of the Matinuska, common enough for all purposes in 1900 and after? But let us not say that those hunting grounds are one and all "shot out," or forever closed to the sportsman. Not until we are compelled, do we admit the state of "no game." Let us believe that the lure of the McGuire party was the really magnificent wide-horned breed of white sheep that is found, in numbers really worth while, in the White River country. We will not soon for- get our astonishment when we first saw a collec- tion of five wide-horned sheep heads from that region. We are glad that Mr. McGuire's party obtained fine specimens of that very interesting development of Ovis dalli. I find Mr. McGuire's story and pictures more interesting than any mere moving-picture trav- els. His graphic and conscientious pen gives us the action, and his pictures furnish the local color so dear to the heart of the reader. Jaded indeed must be the mind that cannot turn from the worries and the care of the daily business ii INTRODUCTION life to this stirring portrayal of travel and adven- ture, in a strange and wild land after strange wild beasts. We are glad that the Colorado Museum of Natural History is prosperous, and in need of the groups that intrepid sportsmen and skilled taxidermists together can create. We are glad that this trip was made, and that Mr. McGuire has given us this admirable account of it. The personnel of the expedition seems to have been excellently composed. The local cooperation was gratifying and effective. The supply of game was sufficient, and the killing was done with commendable moderation. Such toll of wild life as was taken by that party does not spell extermination; and we hold that there is no higher use to which a dead wild animal can be devoted than to mount it for permanent exhibi- tion in a free public museum. Incidentally, the pictures of far northern scen- ery, life and character herein set forth are dis- tinctly educational, and to the honor and glory of Alaska and Yukon Territory. They draw us nearer to our great Arctic province, whose people now are somewhat irritated and inclined to chafe over the neglectful treatment that for forty years and more has been bestowed upon that far-away land. The Congress and people of the United States never have taken Alaska with sufficient seriousness; and the people of Alaska have been strangely slow and backward in setting forth 12 INTRODUCTION before the American people their governmental and administrative rights and needs. Far too long and too much has Alaska been left to work out her own salvation. Now Alas- kans are beginning to clamor for the privileges of statehood — long before their territorial re- sources are sufficient for Alaska's many needs. It is the duty of Congress, and of all fair- minded Americans, to take a proper amount of interest in Alaska, and put Alaska in the list of well-financed and well-managed political and economic units of the American possessions. WILLIAM T. HORNADAY. First Chapter ENROUTE TO THE HUNTING GROUNDS THE HEART OF THE SOURDOUGH There where the mighty mountains bare their fangs unto the moon, There where the sullen sun-dogs glare in the snow-bright, bitter noon, And the glacier-glutted streams sweep down at the clarion call of June. There where the livid tundras keep their tryst with the tranquil snows ; There where the silences are spawned, and the light of hell-fire flows Into the bowl of the midnight sky, violet, amber and rose. There where the rapids churn and roar, and the ice-floes bellowing run ; Where the tortured, twisted rivers of blood rush to the setting sun — I've packed my kit and I'm going, boys, ere another day is done. — Robert Service. FIRST CHAPTER ENROUTE TO THE HUNTING GROUNDS HOPE to be pardoned for entertaining no ••• ambition, in this work, to produce an ex- haustive treatise on the hunting possibilities of either Alaska or Yukon Territory; for to emerge from a two-months' trip into the wilds of that country and be able to write a history of it would be about as impossible as to return from a month's visit to Timbuctoo and pen an accurate chronicle of the whole African race. First, the coast and interior of Alaska are about as dissimi- lar as the two sides of the Cascade Mountains of Washington — the coast being warm, wet and woodsy, while the interior is dry and sunny— and in winter fiercely cold, sometimes reaching down to the very chilly level of 75 degrees below zero. For 200 miles inland this rain belt reaches, and thru its width one encounters ferns, vines and underbrush to an almost impenetrable de- gree— where bears, berries and the usual aquatic plants and fowls are numerous. Here on the coast bears and ducks furnish the sport for the hunter — and no "milk-and-water" Nimrod is he who braves the elements and the hard traveling '7 IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS conditions usually found here. It takes a man of strong heart and stout limb to stalk the bear and shoot the duck in this labyrinth of vine and shrub entanglement in the rain and snow, which are so prevalent here. Seattle with her thirty- four inches of precipitation a year seems like an arid country when compared with Ketchikan, Juneau and Cordova, each of which piles up any- where from 125 to 175 inches a year; while Colo- rado, with her fifteen inches of moisture, is in- deed "bone-dry" in comparison. A school teacher at Ketchikan recently was explaining about the Flood, saying that it rained for forty days and forty nights, and that all on the earth were drowned except those in the ark. One lit- tle child spoke up, saying no one could make him believe that story. "Why?" asked the teacher. "Because," said the boy, "it's been raining here every day the last ten years and nobody's been drowned yet." The Colorado Museum of Natural History, Denver, fostering a well-founded notion that it should be second to no other such institution in the West or Middle West, and harboring within its organization some of America's greatest nat- uralists, philanthropists and sportsmen, finished, during the past three years, a beautiful and com- modious wing to its already magnificent struc- ture in Denver's City Park (a gift from Mrs. Helen Standley — while Harry James and his sis- ter, Mrs. Lemen, have donated $100,000 for a 18 ENROUTE TO THE HUNTING GROUNDS similar wing on the south side of the building). And in order that this wing or the cases provided to be set in it should not go unadorned, the mu- seum board, thru its very efficient director, Jesse D. Figgins, appointed Harry C. James and the writer to head an expedition to Alaska and Yu- kon Territory for the purpose of collecting some mammal groups suitable to fill the new wing. So, armed with sundry licenses, permits and plenary portfolios from the United States, Alas- kan and Yukon governments (to say nothing of divers big guns and hundreds of shells of very sub- stantial power and velocity), we boarded a Union Pacific train in Denver on the evening of July 27, Y 1918, bound for Seattle. Added to our hunting party — which was composed of Mr. James, his son William, and the writer — was Al Rogers, the museum taxidermist, whose duty it was to take care of the specimens secured on the trip. A two-and-a-half-day streak along smooth rails landed our party of four in Seattle, where we met John H. Bunch, the Sequoian chief of the Alaska Steamship Company's destinies in that district; George Allen, the vim-and-vigor merchant of that burg, and C. C. Filson, the outing goods outfitter and manufacturer of the well-known Filson Cruiser Shirt. These genial * gentlemen seemed to lose all interest in their business, their families and in their religion, when we struck the city, for they gave up every- thing for our comfort and amusement. '9 IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS The time passed quickly on the good ship Alaska (of the Alaska Steamship Line) from Seattle as far as Skagway, the short stops at the latter point, at Ketchikan and Juneau inter- posing a lively diversion from the quiet roll of the boat up the Inside Passage. Singing, danc- ing, cards, lectures, sourdough talks and tete-a- tete parties formed absorbing amusement for the passengers while going up. Prof. Herschel C. Parker, of Mount McKinley climbing fame, was on board, and in a stump speech told us of the experiences of Bellmore Brown and himself while climbing the great mountain. Governor Riggs and wife boarded the boat at Juneau, and from there to Cordova were passengers with us. Other notable personages on the boat were X Thomas J. Corcoran, a big-game hunter, of Cin- cinnati, Ohio, and two of his guides (Archie Mac- Lennan and Frank Williams) ; Dr. George Curtis / Martin, of the U. S. Geological Survey, who has made annual trips to Alaska in the interest of the government for more than a dozen years; / and C. C. Georgeson, D.Sc., agronomist in charge of Alaska experimental stations at Sitka — a truly representative and brainy aggregation of men. A whale spouted 200 yards away to the lar- board as we cut thru the waters after leaving Dixon's Entrance. I was one of those lucky enough to see the monster perform. Clear skies and favorable winds were with us until after 20 ENROUTE TO THE HUNTING GROUNDS passing Cape Spencer, lying beyond Skagway. At this point our boat took to the open sea, leav- ing the protective islands, behind which she had quietly glided almost continually since leaving Seattle. And right here is where one of the most malicious attempts to swamp a boat that ever occurred was almost pulled off by a sub-sea "force." Before we could collect our thoughts, it seemed, Old Neptune took a dive under our boat, succeeding, within four inches, of upsetting the craft. I was in my stateroom at the time. Harry James was telling some ladies — and their husbands — (while seated in a very cozy corner of the aft deck) the difference between raising muf- fins in a high altitude and raising hirsute locks on a billiard ball; Rogers was singing some pretty things to a pretty girl from Spokane, while Will- iam James, firmly braced against the corner rail- ing of his seat on the main deck, was an unwilling listener to the cooings of a widow from Walla Walla. As before stated, I was in my stateroom, where I should have been, at the time, most likely writing a prelude to this story. (Or, pos- sibly, I was penciling a preamble to the sermon that the minister was to preach on arrival at Cordova. My memory is greatly at fault now, owing to the shock received.) At any rate, I re- member what happened afterward. It was about 9:30 in the evening, and as Old Nep made his first dive I was precipitated with much force and violence against the bed railing, and as he 21 IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS dove back again I felt myself flung against the opposite wall. It seemed my feet couldn't travel fast enough to keep up with my body, the result being that I was recklessly tossed hither and thither until the crust of my anatomy and my wearing apparel looked more like a shredded laundry basket than a human shell and a coil of clothes. It's a good thing my supper had already digested. I was being juggled about the state- room much like a fly in a cream separator when the door opened and the Captain's smiling face intruded: "Come down to the dining room and have a little spread with me, and you'll feel better," he said. "It's my birthday, and I'm asking several of the passengers down." I threw myself out the door and tried to follow him. It seemed really unnecessary for us to de- scend the stairs to the dining room, as the floor of that room came up to meet us as we started down. As we all sat at the Captain's table he said: "I hope all twenty-five of you will have a pleasant trip, and that this assembly of twenty- four will be much benefited by the voyage. I look upon these twenty- two smiling faces as a father upon his family, for I am responsible for the safety of this group of seventeen. I hope all fourteen of you will join me in drinking a toast to a merry trip. I believe that we eight are most congenial, and I applaud the judgment which chose these three persons for my table. You and 22 ENROUTE TO THE HUNTING GROUNDS I, my dear sir, are — there, steward, clear away and bring me fish." It may safely be assumed, from my behavior on this boat, that I was not the "my dear sir" referred to by the captain (as I didn't remain that long), nor the designer of this yarn, either. All next day I lay in my berth — not well enough to eat, and not quite sick enough to die. The members of our party were all better sailors than I, for I don't believe one of them took sick. I was just a little sorry, too, that some of the boys couldn't experience one of those fulsome uproars that I felt, if only by way of diversion. It helped my feelings a little, however, when they informed me that the dining room had very few patrons that day. On August 7th, at 10 a. m., after something like six days on the boat from Seattle, we landed at Cordova. I stood on deck watching the spec- tators at the dock, all curiously scrutinizing the passengers, as we were being pulled up to the pier. The Home Guards, composed of a score of stalwart, splendid, manly specimens, stood on the wharf to salute the Governor. The man standing next to me touched my elbow. "Do you see that large man, the third from the end in the Guards' line?" said he. "Well, that's Dr. Council, the greatest bear hunter in Alaska. I'll introduce you to him when we debark." And he did, with the result that all our party IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS met the pleasant doctor, who is, from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet, an athlete and a model of imperturbability — 225 pounds of non- superfluous avoirdupois and over a six-footer in height. I afterward remarked to Mr. James that if I possessed that man's physique, his nerve and his, undoubted strength, I would turn bear hunter immediately and follow no other occupa- tion. At his office he showed us grizzly skins that he had killed — a short distance from the Copper River Railroad', ten to one hundred miles from Cordova. These hides were found in shades run- J ning from almost black to a dark cream, and were grizzly, notwithstanding the fact that some people up there called them "big brown." The grizzly evidence showed everywhere — in the very long fore-claws (the big browns do not have as * long fore-claws as the grizzly), in the accent- uated shoulder hump, in the very small ears and in the silver-tip hair — with the exception that, as I now recall it, the lighter shades did not show this silver-tip effect. However, I have seen grizzlies in the States of a pure creamy shade in which the silver-tip characteristic was entirely lacking. Asked if these were the kind of bears found in the interior, Dr. Council said he thought there were no other than this phase to be found there. From Dr. Council's remarks, and judging by the skins shown us, and from conversations with others that we met, both along the coast and ENROUTE TO THE HUNTING GROUNDS in the interior, I feel certain that none of the / big brown bears are found in the Upper Copper River country nor on the White River. That, of course, would be the natural supposition without even visiting that section, as these animals, so far, have only been found on the islands and coastal strips of that region. However, as I write, a rumor has come to me of the presence of big brown bears in the vicinity of the Alaska range, near Mt. McKinley. All naturalists will await with interest a verification of this report — and if it is verified a few of us may entertain a suspicion that the big browns are hybridizing with the grizzlies. While black bears inhabit the country hunted by us and that contiguous to the Copper River as well, of course we know, but from evidence noted on this trip I do not be- lieve they are nearly so numerous as the grizzly. Asked how many bears he had killed in his time, Dr. Council said he didn't know. "How- ever," said he, "you can imagine how plentiful they are around here when I tell you that out of a certain string of seven trips for them from Cor- dova I killed a bear the first day on each of six of these trips; on the seventh I got my bear, but it took longer than one day. Before we left Denver I received a letter from Caleb Corser, superintendent of the Copper River & Northwestern Railway, advising me that he would gladly give our party the use of his private car from Cordova to McCarthy. IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS When I received his kind offer I didn't compre- hend the full significance of it, but when we entered that beautiful little car, with drawing room, berths, sleeping rooms, containing real brass beds, kitchen, and a first-class Japanese cook — and realized that all of this comfort was ours for the two days' travel to McCarthy as a guest of Mr. Corser — well, we immediately called a meeting and voted him the most popular man in Alaska, bar none. As we had plenty of room in our private car, we invited Governor Riggs and his wife, also Dr. Martin, the government geologist, to join us as far as Chitina, their rail- road destination. As we passed the Miles and Childs glaciers, at Mile 50, lying on opposite sides of the track a mile or so apart, we heard thunderous concussion sounds that might have been mistaken for can- nonading, but on looking out we saw clouds of mist arising from the end of the Childs Glacier where an immense column of ice, probably a hundred or more feet high, had separated from the body of the glacier and had gone crashing into the Copper River, which flows along the foot of this glacier. This ice field is always moving, and naturally, as it does so the river continues undermining its mouth. When the cavern made by the river gets too deep the ice must fall. This it is doing ceaselessly, for during our ten-minute stop there we heard two or three more thunder- like reports. 26 ENROUTE TO THE HUNTING GROUNDS During the day much interesting information was imparted by our friends regarding Alaska. The theme was principally along the line of game and game protection. We all readily agreed that the present paltry $20,000 annually allowed Alaska by the government is utterly inade- quate to cover the expenses of the game wardens and the warden service. The way I view the matter is that that territory is the wild-life nest- egg that is to supply the United States when the game down here is all killed off, and we should furnish the money and means to protect it now when the protecting is easier than it will be in ten or twenty years from now. Wild game in large numbers carries a certain momentum or force that is utterly lost when thinned down. In other words, due care and watchfulness over that game now will require not half the effort that it will in twenty years hence when it becomes decimated. Not less than $100,000 annually should be given Alaska for the protection of her game, and it pleases me greatly to acknowl- edge the splendid recommendation voiced by the International Association of Game, Fish and Conservation Commissioners at its annual meeting three years ago to the effect that it favors the appropriation by Congress of $100,000 for game protection in Alaska. The Copper River & Northwestern Railway was not built for the accommodation of passen- gers, but by the Guggenheim interests as an ad- ay IN THE ALASKA- YUKON GAMELANDS junct to their big mine at Kennecott, 200 miles up from Cordova. Therefore its roadbed is not . built on a straight-edge plane of smoothness, nor do its trains maintain a Lightning Express standard of speed. On the contrary, it juggles along just like many other mixed freight moun- tain railroad trains in the States, and if during the day's trip (it doesn't have a night schedule) it rolls up twelve miles per hour it is keeping up to about what is expected of it. As we threaded our tortuous way up the canon of the Copper River, our attention was drawn to a bar or bench which followed the river along the opposite bank for several miles. We noticed that it was verdure-clad and that it bore a fair crop of timber; and yet it was nothing more nor less than glacial in its formation, for, except for the upper few feet covering its sur- face, it was solid ice. We waited a little longer, and as we traveled parallel with the moraine (for such it was), we saw a perpendicular cut in the edge of the bar. All the white formation below the top or covering edge was pure ice. That ice extended all along the bench under the soil, only that it was covered where we first looked at it; but here the water had washed into the "bench," exposing the ice that lay concealed elsewhere along its path. An Indian village was passed, being composed of a few crude huts, some open boats in the river and a half dozen or more half-naked and very 28 ENROUTE TO THE HUNTING GROUNDS unclean women and children. I presume the "men-folks" were away fishing for salmon, one of their chief occupations. One of our party, reading from the Cordova Daily Herald of August 8th, clipped the following note and handed it to me: "Hans Larson, a prospector on the Stewart River, was severely mauled by a bear recently. He was bending over a piece of quartz, when the bear attacked him from behind, tearing his scalp badly and taking strips from his back an inch wide and two inches deep in places. He killed the bear with his rifle, and mushed ten miles to another camp, where he received surgi- cal attention. He will recover, altho he is very weak from loss of blood." "A very common occurrence up here," re- marked one of the members of our party, when he had heard the piece read. "The present pro- tection should be taken from the big brown bear in Alaska, or at least it should be vitally modi- fied." I believe, considering the formidable build and more surly disposition of these big plantigrades, as contrasted with those of the blacks, and even the grizzlies of the States, that the present law on them could with justice to all be changed. I will confess that I never felt this way until I had hunted in that country, but after talking with the people of Alaska and hearing of the natural prejudice up there against these bears, I feel that 29 IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS a revision of the present law would not have a harmful effect. There has been an average of nearly one man a year killed in the North by the big brown and grizzly bears, and several a year mauled and maimed, and I believe that the time has come to act. My feeling for the bears of the States, where they behave themselves, is different, and it is that feeling which has caused me to hold off so long on my pronouncement against the North- ern bears. I believe we are justified now in re- moving all protection from the big browns and grizzlies, with the exception of a $5 or a $ 10 export license on the hides. In my former recommendations concerning these animals I have suggested a compromise by increasing the bag limit south of 62°, to four, and increasing the open season one month above the old period. However, since these expressions were published I have been confronted with some very vicious and unprovoked attacks by them on miners and others, resulting in two deaths and some maul- ings, and I cannot further restrain my feelings that they should go their way unprotected. It is very possible that ere this book is published the powers that be will have begun on some such change as I have mentioned. If such a rule is established it will have my support, and, of course, the undivided approval of the Alaskans. Dr. Nelson, chief of the Bureau of Biological Survey, is in favor of the plan. 30 ENROUTE TO THE HUNTING GROUNDS Chitina (population about 100, and lying 132 miles from Cordova) was reached about 6 o'clock p. m. Here we remained over night. From this point the automobile stage runs to Fairbanks — a three days' trip, and the only means of reaching Fairbanks from this Direction. Malamute and husky sled dogs were in evidence here, and the cool mountain air and other signs gave the place a decidedly Alaskan atmosphere. I believe it was at the station preceding Chi- tina on our route that we all had a good opportu- nity of testing and comparing our binoculars, while the train was being held up. Mr. Corcoran had a $200 pair of glasses that we all admired very much, while Mr. James and William carried splendid glasses. One of the guides also had glasses, in addition, of course, to the Alpine bi- noculars that I carried. We spent an hour there of very close study of the different makes that were found in our party, each one of us trying out all the others. I have always felt very well satis- fied with my present binoculars, which I have used for over twelve years, but when I heard the other members of our party comment on them I felt better than I ever had before about them. The general verdict of all was that they were more satisfactory for game hunting than any of the others — due to the ease of manipulation and the clearness and size of the field. I have in later years used an 8-power glass. I should never go higher than this in power. 31 IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS Next morning at 9 o'clock, after bidding fare- well to Governor Riggs, his wife and Dr. Martin (who were bound for Fairbanks), we departed by rail for McCarthy — not, however, without first inviting Mr. Corcoran and his party, also a Mr. Davy of Denver, to join us in the private car, thereby filling the places left vacant by the first-named party. Aside from crossing a bridge that spanned a gulch at a height of 238 feet and the sighting of some goats (that later turned to stone) on the nearby mountains by Rogers and William, the trip to McCarthy was without incident. We arrived there (elevation, 1,440 feet, 250 popula- tion, and 189 miles from Cordova) at 2:30 p. m. Cap Hubrick, our guide, was the first to meet us. It seemed but the work of two or three hours to get properly quartered at the hotel and look over and sort out our hunting duffel. While we were engaged at this very interesting occupation the various members of the working end of the "dramatis personae" — as Bill Shakes- peare would put it — straggled in. As these men had much to do with our hunt, and as their names will frequently occur in the references to our daily experiences, I shall name them in the order in .which we met them, after first devoting a paragraph to Cap Hubrick, our outfitter. Cap is a man of 62; five feet ten inches, 190 pounds, whose history, if accurately recorded, would contain much of tragedy, drama and pa- ENROUTE TO THE HUNTING GROUNDS thos. Colorado, New Mexico, Washington and other States claimed him as a resident at various times before he went to the Klondike, twenty years ago. His life has been lived wholly in the open, and he shows the splendid effect of this life in his daily camp and hunting work, from that of carrying a log to camp to the agility dis- played in climbing a mountain. He is one of the best shots at running game with whom I have ever hunted. Like many men of the frontier, he was pretty wild in his day, and on a few occasions got into serious trouble by loading up on six- shooters and bad whiskey. However, Cap is now a muchly-settled-down man, married, and has the prettiest little home in McCarthy. He once ran a ferry boat across the Yukon River at Dawson, which accounts for his universally known title of "Cap." Bill Longley, our head packer, altho tall in stature, is not long on adulation, nor is he strong on secret treaties or imbroglios, but believing that attention to business is the best way to make the camp "safe for democracy," he wends his placid way in a manner commendable in a hunt- ing assistant. I have always found that it is hard enough to get along in camp with every- body when everyone tries to do his bit, and this Bill accomplished without considering the cost in enduring hardships. Bill is 50 years of age, but looks 40, and understands the pack- ing game to perfection. I believe Bill would 33 IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS * rather cut off a finger than commit a dishonor- able act. Billy Wooden is a twin brother to Bill Longley in the feature of work. He seemed to be a glut- ton for exercise and endurance, never waiting for the next man to wrangle horses, wade cold streams or travel the wet underbrush. He al- ways came up with a smile, and never once lost his temper except when Shorty Gwin crossed him. Billy is of small stature, about 40 years old, once ran a roadhouse on the Nizina, and is thoroly familiar with the life of that country. J Shorty Gwin : Outside of Cap, Shorty was the greatest character in the party. He also is 62 years old — short, stocky, beardy and brashy — a man who is at Home anywhere in his tracks in the hills; whose bed under a drooping spruce is as good to him as one on a box mattress. When he cast off his old clothes at the end of the trip, dressed up and shaved, his dog Jimmie would have nothing to do with him, but hung around Cap's house like one who had lost a friend. His humor is wholesome and natural and his stories told of evenings were gems of imaginative concep- tion. "Hell! Where's my tobacco?" from Shorty always meant that a good story was coming up. Jimmie Brown, the fourth member of the packing force, like Shorty, hadn't very aesthetic tastes regarding his bed and board while in the hills. As a matter of fact, these men cannot be too particular about anything while on the trail, 34 ENROUTE TO THE HUNTING GROUNDS as experience has taught them that "readiness to serve" double discounts good clothes and fancy grub while in the open. Jimmy could sleep on less and live on less food while on a "siwash" trip than anyone I have ever met. He is a small man, about 40, wiry, quick and unobtru- sive. Like Billy Wooden, he is a wonderful climber — a human camel in traveling long dis- tances without food or water. For years he has employed his time at freighting between Mc- Carthy and the Shushanna mining district. In winter he uses dog sleds in this work, and could tell many a harrowing tale of hardship, death and privation while traveling on the glaciers over this route. Next comes our little Jap, Jimmie Fujii, who acted as cook. While a typical Japanese in man- ner and disposition, yet he has absorbed much of American and Alaskan ways during the twenty-odd years that he has been a "rolling stone" in this country. First marrying in Japan, he has had two matrimonial ventures in America with white girls, but has given up all future ideas of repeating the offense over here. He is now treading the path of single blessedness again, and, being a free man, travels when and where he pleases, following the avocation of cook. He is a high school graduate, and aside from being a splendid cook is a great student of international social problems. His morning call — usually issued at 5:30 a. m. — "Ho-oh! Break-fawst !" — still 35 IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS rings in my ears, and while it was not always a pleasant reminder, yet our later contact with the hot cakes and other fixin's took all the early chill away. That pent-up anxiety to get away, which had been fermenting in our systems for days, finally found escapement the next afternoon at 2:30, when the packers announced that they were "organized" and ready to start. It seemed that half of McCarthy's 250 souls were congregated around the vacant space, where the horses were packed, to see us depart. The sixteen packs were loaded with about 200 pounds each, or 3,200 pounds total. After crossing the little stream in McCarthy's back yard we were soon strung out along the roadway on the hillside that overlooks the town. Soon the little village was lost to view, and automatically the wilderness opened its arms to receive us, holding us fast for the next thirty-nine days. Four miles along a good wagon thorofare led us to the brink of Sour- dough Hill; then five miles over a squashy road landed us at Shorty Gwin's cabin on the Nizina River, our abode for the night. Here we said good-bye to the wagon road, thenceforward de- pending on trails and no-trails, water, ice and river bars for our travel. The sun at this time was warm, the air mellow, and, aside from a slight variation in the foliage, we would hardly have known that we were not traveling along an old New Brunswick tote road. The first "dif- 36 ENROUTE TO THE HUNTING GROUNDS ferent" sign that we noted was the presence of the fireweed, a flower that grows a foot or two high, oTpinkish color, which is seen at this season in such bounteous profusion that it actually paints the meadows and hillsides. Single gardens of this flower covered spaces dozens of acres in extent, causing the terrene at a distance to appear as a solid mass of "pink. The timber of the country visited by us in- cludes Sitka spruce (a tree that I mistook for fir, owing to the needles being soft-pointed), balm of gilead (found in abundance), birch, alder, willow and quaking aspen (the latter very rarely seen). Among the wild berries found thereabouts were: High-bush cranberries, low bush cranberries, black and red currants, blueberries (very plen- tiful), salmon berries (in abundance along the coast), raspberries, wolf berries and, of course, roseberries. We awoke the following morning to find our horses missing. Billy and Jimmie went in search of them, finding that they had traveled ten miles up the Nizina, attracted by the pea-vine, a low- growing, palatable and very fattening plant that grows over most of the river bars of that section. It was therefore 2:30 that afternoon before we got started. As Shorty is known there as the wizard of the Nizina River, he led the way across it, a treacher- ous quicksand stream flowing at this time in some twelve or more channels. (When we re- 37 IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS turned a month later this water had concentrated into about three channels. It is always chang- ing.) Shorty dwelt long and often upon the great requisite of being able to "read" water. He has lived on the Nizina so long and has wit- nessed and been a participant in so many acci- dents on this stream that he is recognized as the most capable man on that river to lead a pack outfit across it. We had no difficulty in making a successful ford, and after following it for six or seven miles we decided to camp at the Spruce Point Cabin, an old deserted shack, at one time occupied and run by Billy Wooden as a roadhouse. Our de- cision to camp here, and not at the mouth of the Chittistone (as originally planned), was greatly encouraged by a downpour of rain which came on us as we were approaching the cabin, and which kept up all night, but in lessened volume. We traveled eight miles during the afternoon, over a boggy trail in some places, and over the bar of the river in' others. While traveling up the Nizina during the day Bill Longley pointed to a white speck, barely discernible on a rough mountain a couple miles off to our right. "That's a tent I took up there a year ago for a prospector," said he. "But it's never been used, as the 'color' petered out." When asked why it was never taken down and used, Bill said it wasn't worth the expense of go- ing for it. And when men's wages and horses' 38 ENROUTE TO THE HUNTING GROUNDS hire are considered, it doesn't take a lightning calculator to figure out how very correct his statement is. As an illustration of this condition in that country: A fine, large cooking range that would command $25 or $30 in town, even at second-hand prices, lies unclaimed in the cabin where we spent that night (only about seventeen miles from McCarthy), for the simple reason that it isn't worth the trouble and work of pack- ing it in. Half concealed in the timber at the side of the trail up the Nizina stood an old deserted cabin (as all cabins are in this country). Some one pointed it out to us as the roadhouse that was run by B. S. Kelly during the Shushanna gold rush in 1913. It is said of him that while running this roadhouse he found himself on his "last legs" financially. When a man called to get a meal, Kelly would ask him if he had a frying pan in his outfit. Of course every prospector travel- ing thru at that time had a frying pan. The next question asked was, "Have you some grease?" This was another acquisition usually found in the prospector's pack. Kelly would then place the skillet on the fire and tell the prospector to go out and kill a rabbit, remarking that that would do for his dinner — for which a charge of $1.50 was made. That night some long-distance world's records were broken in the gabfest that followed after supper, and if the shades of all the departed 39 IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS moose, sheep, goats, caribou, bears and men (records of whose slaughter were told most vividly) did not appear to us in our sleep that night as a protest, then it was because they had been killed so dead that there was no chance of their ever returning to earth again in any form. Up to that time I had always considered Harry a pretty good single-handed talker, but he was entirely outclassed by Cap and Shorty in their recitations of old-time Alaska experiences. These two sourdoughs battled in the oratorical arena for hours, and at the conclusion of the contest, which outrivaled in gameness and ferocity the gladiator encounters of old, the bout was de- clared a draw. Next day it continued raining, so the contest was resumed, lasting all that day and far into the night. Shorty told of once capturing a goat alive in Alaska, and said they were so tame and plentiful that it would be no trick at all to repeat the performance on this trip. Cap said he had seen the rabbits so thick in that country that they ate off all the vegetation — in fact, these rabbits were so numerous that finally they had no feed whatever, so they ate themselves. Billy Wooden told of killing an ibex in Alaska, describ- ing it as a counterpart of the goat except that the front feet were large and the horns were twisted, containing ridges that ran in spiral fash- ion around the horn, as in some of the European species. 4° ENROUTE TO THE HUNTING GROUNDS I was curiously interested in the ibex story, especially as I had heard from other sources of these animals having existed there. One man who vouches for their presence at one time in Alaska is ex-Representative James Wickersham, of Fairbanks, with whom I conversed on the subject. However, Judge Wickersham, I believe, re- ceived his impressions more from what he read in Gen. T. A. Allen's book, "Government Report on the Copper River (Alaska) Exploring Expedi- tion of 1886," than from any personal experience that he has had with the supposed animals. I have a copy of General Allen's book, and publish herewith an extract from it covering the subject, as follows: "Whether the big-horn mountain sheep, ovis canadensis, exists in Alaska I am unable to say, but I desire to add also a new geographical race of the same. The animal in question is called by the natives tebay, and this name I leave un- changed until a specimen will have been carried out of the territory. We killed several of these animals, one of which, a ram, had horns twenty inches long and nearly straight. Their structure was similar to that of the bighorn, but the curva- ture was very slight. This ram was killed on a very high point, such a place as is usually sought by them, and in its fall was sadly mangled. The head of the tebay is much like that of a South- down sheep, the muzzle much less pointed than IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS in Nelson's big-horn. The hair is of a uniform white — in fact, nearly equal to his snow surround- ings in color, and is nearly as easily broken as that of the antelope. Next to the skin is a very fine, short wool, which is very strong. In size the tebay is probably an equal of its relative, trte big- horn. I saw a spoon made from the horn of one that measured twenty-six inches in length and five inches across the bowl. We were informed that some had much larger horns than the one that furnished material for this spoon. This, like most statements of natives, is questionable. The large ram and one other were killed on the most northerly tributary of the Chittistone River. The natives informed us that small tebay could be killed a few miles below the junction of the Chittistone, a fact we doubted, and hence chose to allow them the use of our carbines. They passed the night on the mountains north of the Chitina River, and returned with four small ones that would weigh when dressed probably sixty-five pounds. The heads were left on the mountains, but the bodies brought in seemed identical with those obtained on the Chittistone River. Why only small ones should be found at this place in the latter part of April I cannot say; yet the mountains here were not so high as far- ther to the east, where the large ones had been killed. The last of these animals seen or heard of by us were near the headwaters of Copper River, on the divide between it and the Tanana River." 4* ENROUTE TO THE HUNTING GROUNDS At this late day, of course it seems odd to read of a doubt cast at the habitat of the ovis cana- densis^ as shown herein by General Allen, but when one reflects that his book was written about thirty-five years ago, it is not amazing. It is amusing to note the two very distinct animals described respectively by Billy Wooden and Gen- eral Allen. Billy Wooden's animal of mystery was distinctly a goat, except for the horn and front hoof formation, while General Allen's was a sheep. There could, of course, be no connection between the two forms, according to the descrip- tions given. Naturally, when we hear of such reports, the first thing that enters our mind is that no hunter has ever been able to secure and preserve one of the skins, and secondly, that none of these specimens has ever reached any of the many natural history institutes of our country that would be so very anxious to secure them at a substantial cost. I believe I can solve the Allen myth by suggesting that it might be a young mountain sheep ram or an old female, with slightly curved horns. But Billy Wooden's ibex has simply got my "goat," for I cannot fathom it. Rumors of ibexes having been seen in the States are very old. Other unnatural forms of wild life have also been reported, but when run down they have usually turned out to be about as authentic as the stories of the philaloo bird and the side-hill gouger. 43 Second Chapter IN THE GOAT AND GLACIER FIELDS THE PARSON'S SON I'm one of the Arctic brotherhood, I'm an old-time pioneer. I came with the first — O God! how I've cursed this Yukon — but still I'm here. I've sweated athirst in its summer heat, I've frozen and starved in its cold ; I've followed my dreams by its thousand streams, I've toiled and moiled for its gold. Look at my eyes — been snow-blind twice ; look where my foot's half gone; And that gruesome scar on my left cheek, where the frost-fiend bit to the bone. Each one a brand of this devil's land, where I've played and I've lost the game, A broken wreck with a craze for " hooch," and never a cent to my name. — Robert Service. SECOND CHAPTER IN THE GOAT AND GLACIER FIELDS pHE following morning we started at 10:30 •*• in a drizzle, which later cleared. We were especially fortunate that clear skies welcomed us on the latter part of the day's ride, as some beautiful scenery opened up, including water- falls, gorgeous hills and sublime snowcapped summits. The grandeur almost repaid for the near-dousing we received that day while cross- ing back over the Nizina. It seems the packs were in some unaccountable way divided (some- thing which should be avoided, if possible); at any rate, we saw Shorty, Wooden and others with a contingent of packs crossing below us, and the manner in which the riders leaned down- stream told, if the submerged packs had not, that they were in dangerous water. Bill Longley, Harry and others (including myself) were in the string that crossed above, and for a moment it looked as if we should encounter swimming water, as it foamed up to the middle of the horses' bodies, wetting the packs and ourselves as well. Swimming water in that surging torrent hardly conveys a true meaning of the term to 47 IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS one accustomed only to moderate running water. Besides, it is ice cold, coming from the glacier but a few miles away, and to even get soaked in it, with nothing worse, might mean a bad case of rheumatism; while if one's horse should roll in this water there would be an excellent chance of a funeral at the opposite shore. The boys who knew more about glacial streams than we advised us, should our horse roll, to jump downstream, rather than up, as by doing so we would fall clear of our horse, and being lighter would float or swim out of its reach; whereas, by jumping upstream we would run the risk of being sucked under the horse. A man was killed on the Nizina in this way a year before, his head being crushed by one of the horse's feet. In crossing these streams (for there were others as bad as the Nizina, including the Frederika and White), we always leaned downstream, which served to brace the horse by throwing his feet upstream — the very opposite effect of leaning upstream and forcing the feet down. This is a knack I had learned while swimming our horses across the Shoshone River in Wyoming many years ago while bear hunting with Ned Frost, and I've never forgotten it. At first it sounds almost un- reasonable, as, if we were fording such a stream on foot we would lean up, but on horseback the conditions are reversed. Many brave men lose their lives in this wild country every year from a variety of causes. IN THE GOAT AND GLACIER FIELDS Most of them become so hardened to the weather and privations that they can endure almost un- believable trials on the trail. We were told of one man and his dog team who, a few years ago, subsisted for ten days on rabbits alone, while camped in a tent on Nizina Glacier. Freighters, prospectors and others frequently get caught on the glaciers in mid-winter in a blizzard and are compelled to camp until it is over, as in that in- tense winter climate, with a twenty-five or thirty mile wind blowing, there is no human that could withstand the cold, piercing wind while traveling. Dozens of graves in sequestered spots dot the banks of these streams, mute testimony to the severity of the Alaska winters. Seldom more than a very few people know where these men are buried, as, when found, whether dead or dying, there is usually but few in the discovering party (more often but one) and very likely it is necessary to make haste with the obsequies in order to save their own lives; so the body is laid to rest usually in a fern-clad or pine-decorated spot, with a blaze on a near-by tree on which pencil or pen marks (soon, of course, obliterated) are placed, telling the man's name, if known, and the date of the burial. As most of these graves are off the trail (which changes almost yearly in most cases) it may easily be understood how few of them are known to the average passer-by. We passed one such grave, that of Captain Tay- 49 IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS lor, who was frozen to death while necking a hand sleigh across Nizina Glacier in February, 1914. Cap related the tragic death of a musher three years ago: "Two-Much" Johnson and Fred Youngs were freighters between McCarthy and Shushanna, the gold camp. Returning to Mc- Carthy with their 'big Yukon River sled pulled by sixteen dogs, they came to the Shushanna Glacier. This ice field was a very dangerous one to cross in the spring owing to its great number of crevasses. When covered with snow a foot or two deep a man has to be very careful. The snow bridges over the crevasses and makes some of the narrow ones hard to see. The men had stopped their sled to go ahead and "sound" out the snow-covered crevasses with alpenstocks, when the dogs began fighting. A dog fight out of the harness is ordinarily a very much mixed-up affair, but when these fighting "wolves" of the North tangle up in a tooth battle with the har- ness on, the mix-up is about as hard to straighten out as a string puzzle. Finally after they got cleared, they were started; but, wrought up by their late fighting, the dogs were very nervous and erratic, and at one point tried to jump over a crevasse before their masters were ready for them. These crevasses in many places had to be bridged over by the men chopping off the ice of the sides with picks until the crack filled, thereby making a safe trail over the opening. However, 5° IN THE GOAT AND GLACIER FIELDS in this case, the dogs broke away and ran head- long into the crevasse. Only the first eight of the sixteen fell in, but their weight on the har- ness was too much and it broke, letting them down. "Too-Much" Johnson, in trying to get the dogs straightened out, fell in also. Some of these cracks are hundreds of feet deep and Youngs felt something must be done quickly if his partner was to be saved. So he hurried to the relief camp (a camp the freighters maintain on or near these glaciers where men and means are kept to render assistance in such cases). Returning with men, axes, picks, ropes and every appurtenance necessary, they began the search for Johnson. They worked along this crevasse and down it (by lowering men with ropes) all that day and during the whole night — using "bugs," or electric lights — but no trace of the man could be found. When dawn broke they detected a dark object a half mile away climbing over the top of the crevasse. They ran up and found it was Johnson, who barely had strength to drag himself over the top, where he lay ex- hausted. They found both hands and part of his face frozen and the fingers worn almost to stubbs in trying to climb up over the icy sides. They wrapped him up carefully, laid him on the sled and started for McCarthy, but before they reached the town he expired — thereby offering up another life — the supreme toll — to the fas- cinating but uncertain life of the frozen North. IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS During the winter of 1919-20 Jimmy Brown (our indomitable little guide and glacier trail blazer) and Dan Campbell experienced a dis- tressful misfortune while dog-sledding in that country. The first report that I received of it came from Cap Hubrick, our outfitter, in the following letter: "McCarthy, Alaska, Jan. 29, 1920 "Joe McClelland and Bill Maher (Shushana mail carriers) came in today with dog teams, bringing in Jimmie Brown and Dan Campbell in a badly frozen condition. Brownie and Camp- bell left the head of the White River early this month for McCarthy with a seven-dog team and got along all right until they undertook to cross the Nizina Glacier in a fierce blizzard (which was very foolish of them). When they reached a point about two miles from McLeod's (where we camped when you were hunting with us), they got into a deep ice ravine and followed this down the glacier until it became so steep on either side that they could not get out, and the dogs refused to go back against the strong wind. It got dark on them and the only thing they could do was to get into their sleeping bags to keep from freezing. "During the night they began to realize that they were slowly but surely freezing to death, so they began to fight for life, and when it became light enough to see to travel they made a start. The dogs had all perished except one, and he 5* IN THE GOAT AND GLACIER FIELDS would not leave his dead companions. They were compelled to abandon everything; could not even take their snowshoes. The wind was blow- ing so hard that it was impossible to stand up on the ice where the snow had blown away. All they did take was their camp axe. That day they reached the homestead cabin in the timber a short way below the glacier, and here they lay for sixteen days without food or blankets, Brownie being utterly helpless and Campbell creeping around on hands and knees getting fuel to keep from freezing. Yesterday McClelland and Maher found them in this condition and brought them to town today. Brownie will lose part of one foot and some ringers. The flesh is dropping from his hands now. His face and neck are black and an awful sight. Campbell will lose part of both feet. They will be crippled for life, and the awful suffering they will go thru for some time to come will be heart-rending." Two months later, when "Brownie" had re- covered sufficiently to dictate a letter, he wrote me as follows: "Dan Campbell and I left Shushana (a mining camp about 100 miles from McCarthy) Jan- uary 2nd with a seven-dog team, and made fairly good progress until we reached White River. Here we were storm-bound for three days, when we made a trip onto the Russell Glacier, but were compelled to return to timber 53 IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS on account of the severe storms. The following day we made another attempt, and after we were out on the glacier about four miles we were com- pelled to drop one of our dog sleighs, and by sheer doggedness we managed to reach the relief cabin at the head of the Russell Glacier late at night. The next day we went back after the other sled and the weather seemed to have mod- erated a little, but turned bitter cold towards evening. " The next day we made another start for the Frederika relief cabin, which is located in the willows just south of the creek where the trail crosses the Frederika stream. Between the Skolai Basin and this cabin we barely averted disaster in crossing one of the deep cuts. We started a snowslide, above which we happened to be, but if we had been on it or below it I am sure our troubles would have ended then and there. Nothing could have lived in this slide. But we reached the cabin without any further adventures and slept like only those who have had plenty of outdoor exercise can sleep. "It was storming hard the following morning, but as the wind was to our backs and being shel- tered by the mountains on either side, we con- cluded to make a start and go as far as was possible so long as we had timber to camp in at night. We followed the canon and it was mighty hard going all the way — snow drifted badly in 54 IN THE GOAT AND GLACIER FIELDS places and lots of open water, often breaking thru the thin ice, which made progress slow. "About 2 o'clock we reached Skolai Lake at the Nizina Glacier. Here we struck very hard going, the snow being quite deep and soft. Still we thought we could make it across to timber. After some time of wallowing in the snow we began to realize that we were up against the real thing, but it was too late to turn back. We were now getting the winds from the Nizina and Skolai so hard that they could not be faced. Our only salvation was to keep going. We had to get off the lake and onto tne glacier and go quartering across so as to keep out of the worst of the crevasses; yet we encountered a number of them and passed thru the worst places when darkness overtook us and this, of course, stopped further progress for the day. We judged the wind was blowing about seventy miles per hour. By setting up our snowshoes against the back of the sled and bringing a tarp around them, we had some sort of a wind-break; then we took one robe and spread this on the ice to sit on and drew another robe over us. In this way we spent a very unpleasant night. No matter how we tucked and fixed the covering robe the snow would drift in, and then our bodies would melt it, and in this way we got wet, and when it be- came light enough to see to travel we made a start for timber, which was about two miles dis- 55 IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS tant, leaving everything. Being compelled to face the wind in order to get back up on the higher ice and out of the crevasses, the dogs would not follow. "Our clothes, moccasions and mittens were wet. We had no more than got out of our robes before our clothing was frozen stiff. My parka bulged out in front and froze as hard as a board. Every time I took a step my foot would hit the bottom; then the top would hit me in the face; this cut like a knife, until my face looked like a butcher's block. Campbell thought I was bleed- ing at the lungs and really was worried about me. Of course, he told me this later. "Where the snow had blown off it made it im- possible to stand up. Often we had to crawl or roll along these places. We at last reached the old barn beside the glacier (at McLeod's), where we got a fire started, but it was impossible to thaw out here. The wind was blowing so hard we had to beat it down to the old cabin called the Homestead, distance about four miles. I knew that my hands and feet were frozen and that Campbell's feet were also frozen, but it was no use to idle along. There was but one thing to do, and that was to get to the cabin and start a fire and save as much as possible of our hands and feet. We had left our snowshoes, and this made it harder for us, as the snow was about three feet deep, and I judge it took us at least two hours to make this four miles. 56 IN THE GOAT AND GLACIER FIELDS "On reaching the cabin I was helpless, both hands badly frozen, so I could not even help start a fire. Campbell was more fortunate, he having two good hands, but his feet were very bad, and by hobbling around he managed to start a fire and then we began to take stock of ourselves and also of the contents of the cabin. "Here I wish to say that we can thank Joe McClelland and Bill Maher that we are alive to- day, by having the cabin in a fairly warm con- dition, and wood enough to do us over night; there was also some flour, rice and dog feed here. The thermometer registered 60 below zero and the winds howled on the glaciers. We did not know how long it would be before we might be rescued by some one coming along. "Sixteen days of watchful waiting we spent in this cabin, looking for Joe and Bill, who were carrying the mail, but they likewise had en- countered severe storms and were delayed. They arrived about 2:30 in the afternoon and were pretty tired. Of course they did everything they could to make us comfortable, and the fol- lowing day they went back after our outfit. They found one dog alive and three frozen to death. The other three had disappeared. No doubt they tried to go back to Shushana. Since then one of the three has showed up at Solo Creek; the other two, no doubt, have died. "The next day we started for McCarthy and here we are. I expect to be able to get around 57 IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS by the time the hunting season opens, but will not be able to walk enough to do any guiding in the hills, but if I can get a party to take out I will do the wrangling and help around the camp and do all I can. By next year I expect to be able to go some. If my horses live thru the win- ter I will be pretty lucky. All the other horses in that country have died this winter. BROWNIE." Five o'clock of the evening of saw us in camp at the scene of the Road House (the same stopping place that "Brownie" refers to in his letter), after traveling sixteen miles from Spruce Point. The road house was hardly fit for occupancy, so we put up the tents — their initial appearance in service on Alaska soil. Next morning we were up at 5 for our first big game hunting — goats — and at 7:20 all departed for Rhinoceros Peak (also called Finger Moun- tain), via Nizina and Regal glaciers. We covered six miles on horseback going to our hunting country, all on these glaciers. Never have I witnessed a more beautiful sight than that which greeted us as we filed along on the surface of the white ice that clear morning. The clouds had not all lifted from the highest peaks, whose dark promontories stood half- sheathed in their filmy gowns of billowy mist. Finger Mountain was thrice-attractive because 00 00 '5 U IN THE GOAT AND GLACIER FIELDS only his black-pointed crest was visible, like a floating buoy, above the feathery sea of encir- cling clouds. As this was our first glacier travel we felt very much that timidity one would experience in walking on eggs, fearing our horses might slip on the treacherous ice, which was interwoven with crevasses and pot-holes, ridges and gullies. Solid terra firma we had all found dangerous enough at times, but this glacier traveling the first hour of that first day was the most ticklish thing we had experienced in many moons. After that we took it with steadier assurance, and didn't feel thrilly any more. As every horse in the outfit had been sharp-shod at McCarthy before leaving, we finally settled down to a regu- lar sourdough form of contentment and took every slip, slide and skate as a matter of course, trying to think of these hair-breadth escapes from instant death (as they sometimes appeared to us) as the ordinary events of a hunting trip in the Far North. Just the same, if any of my readers believes that an Alaska glacier is anything resembling a boulevard or skating rink in smoothness you should be disillusioned; for there are moun- tains, peaks, valleys and canons on the glacier — all on a small scale, it is true, but they are there in as varied projection and dejection as in a range of the rockiest mountains. The glacier surface is serrated with little streamlets; cracks 59 IN THE ALASKA- YUKON GAMELANDS and crevasses, the former running from an inch in width to from five to ten feet — crevasses the same. Some pot holes and crevasses extend down thru the ice hundreds of feet. The horses used on the glacier trail are as proficient at this work as are the range riding horses in the roping game. They have all had their falls on the ice, their slips, slides and rolls, and they know as well as a man does what places are dangerous. While crossing a stream in the glacier this day one of our horses slipped and fell, landing be- tween two ice ridges in the bottom of a "draw" almost on his back. By chopping away the ice on each side of the crack he was able to rise. While taking a short rest after this experience, the beauty of the scene before us was reflected again thru mention of it by Harry, who pro- nounced it a real memory-jewel. On account of the unusual lighting effect produced by the clear- ing of the storm, I doubt if many other travelers crossing this glacier will ever again be treated to just such a kaleidoscopic display of colors as we witnessed. Many shades each of green, blue and purple appeared in each crevasse and pot-hole. In the perspective, extending for miles, was seen the green-white expanses of mountain and plain in miniature, the sun's rays dancing on the shim- mering corrugations and casting shadows inter- mittently on the glass-like iridescence. In the background, like a sentinel guarding the wave of ice, stood the bold summit (Finger 60 IN THE GOAT AND GLACIER FIELDS Mountain) on which we were to hunt the oream- nos montanus today. As we approached this mountain, various "goats" were pointed out by different members of our party. Usually, on closer inspection, they turned out to be either white rocks or patches of snow. One party per- sisted in his belief that if a certain object was not a live goat it certainly was a dead one. Rocks turned into goats with the rapidity of lightning. There was hardly a man who hadn't some pet snow spot or rock that he tried to bring to life with the glasses. Cap and others picked out some goats on one of the higher mesas, and these proved to be the only goats seen from the glacier. Finally we approached the "shore-line," climbed onto solid earth, left the horses on a good feeding ground in charge of Jimmie Brown, and began the ascent of the mountain. William James, Rogers, Bill Longley and Billy Wooden bore to the right, while Harry, Cap and I took to the left. After ascending 1 ,000 feet, we heard some ten or twelve shots, and looking down, saw William pointing toward the mountain. We feared, however, that he hadn't scored. Soon afterward we saw a band of seventeen goats stringing away to the west- ward, some hundreds of feet above us, presum- ably frightened by William's shooting. We climbed higher, ate lunch, and then mov- ing still higher counted thirty-three goats strung out on the trail to the rear of and following the 61 IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS seventeen that had just passed. They were about a mile away and separated from us by a couple of divides. Later we walked out to the rim of the precipice that dropped below and saw William a short distance down the hill. He said he connected with his goat, all right, but that it hadn't yet shed its hair, and issued a warning that the other boys had advised us not to shoot any more as the goats weren't yet "clean." This puzzled us greatly, and especially Cap, who said that goats always shed in June. Notwith- standing William's advice, we started again to climb up, hoping to get a close-up look at some others — possibly those that we had seen from the glacier. My limbs began to cramp so badly that I decided to remain back. Half an hour after Harry, William and Cap had disappeared over the rim above I heard rifle shots in their direc- tion. Jumping to my feet, unable to overcome the hunting curiosity that sometimes seizes us, I clambered to the top toward them. Glancing to the westward I counted twenty goats moving away — trailing up a hill at a dis- tance of half a mile, like silent marching soldier specters. They seemed not the least excited, but determined and imperturbable. To me there is something patriarchal in the appearance of a goat, and as they lined out on that trail they formed a picture solemn and reverential. I believe in one of the above paragraphs I men- tioned rifle shots. I imagine the reader will begin 62 IN THE GOAT AND GLACIER FIELDS to think it is time something was doing in the firing line, after the long wait for active hos- tilities. He will also want to know what kind of shooting irons each member of the party carried, and before any blood is spilt I believe I'd better give out this information: Harry James carried one .35 Remington auto and one .30 U. S. Win- chester; William James" had a duplicate of his father's order; Rogers carried a .303 Savage; Hubrick a .250—3000 Savage, while I took two guns of the .30 U. S. Winchester make, one bored for the '03 shell and the other for the '06. One of the guides had a .35 Winchester, while another toted a gun the make and caliber of which I have forgotten. On reaching the "bench" above, a quick sur- vey disclosed four white spots lying in various positions of disorder 200 or 300 yards ahead of me, and kneeling at one of these and in the act of evisceration were seen Harry and Hubrick. William was running wild-eyed in search of a crippled lamb. About all I could hear from him in passing me was an uncomplimentary remark concerning some one. • I afterward learned that his reference was to Hubrick, who had fired at the goats before giving Harry a first chance. In this he committed a grievous mistake, as James was naturally entitled to not only the first shot, but to all if he wanted them. While my talk with Harry drew out no com- plaint with regard to the manner in which the 63 IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS battle started or terminated, yet I drew from his manner that it was not staged exactly according to Marquis of Queensbury rules. He told me that of the four goats stretched out before us, Cap had killed three and he one out of a band of twenty-four; furthermore, that Cap had opened fire on them first at a distance of sixty yards, killing a nanny, a 3-year-old and a kid; Harry killed a nanny as she scrambled over the green sward in her effort to get away. As we needed another lamb, and as a small band comprising a lamb was at that time hover- ing around the precipices 500 feet above and half a mile away, I decided to try for it while my companions finished the dressing of those already killed. On my way up I noticed a lone goat in the ledges above the others that I was stalking, he having been seen by me in the same position an hour or two before. Evidently he was an old billie, as he acted different in remaining alone than I thought a nanny would. My path in stalking the group containing the lamb led me straight toward the billie, who was higher than they and 400 yards farther away. I didn't use the glasses on him, and he was so far away that I couldn't tell the sex. While sneaking on the small band (which were nervously running back and forth, but hidden at times from my sight by a shoulder of the mountain), I had not thought seriously of trying for him, yet when later the little bunch disappeared, as per gun 64 IN THE GOAT AND GLACIER FIELDS signal from Harry, who with Cap stood below watching the proceedings, I decided I would make a try for the old goat's hide. It was im- possible to keep out of sight of him,, and just about as difficult to travel in any but a straight line toward him. Therefore I had small hopes of his ever standing for me until within range. The climbing was very steep, necessitating fre- quent rests, yet that old mountaineer stood still, apparently eyeing me with but little concern. It was a novelty in game hunting to see an animal act this way. I imagine that there is something to the statement made later by one of the guides that when they are above you and in the cliffs as this one was, they feel more secure. Certainly if he had been a hundred miles above me he couldn't have acted more contented. Finally after many waits to rest I reached a point beyond which I feared to go, and which I thought was about 400 yards from him. Harry, always complimentary in his remarks, was good enough to say it was 500 yards. I knelt down and took aim, noting that the front sight more than covered him. When I fired I noticed the spatter of the bullet on the ledge a foot or two aoove and that it threw rock splinters all around him. He started to run to the right, then came back the other way, and finally stood for the second shot. As soon as I fired, I knew I hit him, as there was no sound in the rocks and no shower of them as before. He walked a few steps and 65 IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS laid down, then collapsed and rolled off the ledge, bounding over several precipices in his drop. I shouted so Harry and Cap would know, but this was unnecessary as they had watched the whole stalk from start to finish and gave back a welcoming cheer. I couldn't see him after he landed, as he lay in a gulch hidden by sharp projections, but I knew he was too far away and too hard to reach for me to go and disembowel him. Cap had warned us before that, in order to get safely across the glacier by dark, it would be necessary to descend the mountain and reach the horses by 4 o'clock — and it was now past 4. We reached the horses just before 6, having joined another contingent of our party on the way down the mountain. Rogers was very weak, having gone without lunch. We had warned him that he would need it on such a hard climb, but with an indifferent, "Oh, I never eat lunch in the hills," he sauntered away without the mid-day snack. But we all noticed that our taxidermist not only always carried a lunch after that, but that he ravenously devoured it as well. After joining the rest of our party we learned that Billy Wooden had also killed a goat, presum- ably a billy, which was dropped in a very in- accessible gulch too precipitous to negotiate that day owing to the lateness of the hour. We reached camp at 8:30 p. m., after being two and a half hours on the ice field. It wasn't a very difficult matter, for those of 66 IN THE GOAT AND GLACIER FIELDS us who could, to rest in camp the following day while Longley, Wooden and Rogers went after the five goat hides and meat. They started in a drizzle which later cleared a little, but the slow rain was intermittent until nightfall. During the day Charlie Baxter (the White Horse guide) came thru with Mr. Corcoran. The outfit stopped long enough for us to exchange greet- ings. Having met all the members of the party before, it was very pleasant to have their trail in the hills cross ours. This idle day in camp gave William and me an opportunity to enjoy a very pleasant diver- sion from the camp routine — that of giving Jimmy, our cook, orders on baking a birthday cake for Harry. William had "soft-pedaled" some of us the information while at McCarthy that his father would pass his 5oth milestone in camp, and, in order that his half-century mark might not go by forgotten we collected some can- dles in McCarthy. These we brought forth and handed to our Japanese boy with the admonition that he must be prepared to bake the camp cake of his life. We appropriated the mess-tent for our collusion, and barred all from entrance during the day. When night fell we had a cake fit for the gods, with beautiful white frosting and two colors of gingerbread trimming. We had a big feed that night, and were in the middle of it when the boys, rain-soaked and cold, came in with the skins and meat. Harry was com- 67 IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS pletely surprised when Jimmy produced the cake, as he had no idea of such a thing being sprung on him. A few impromptu presents were produced, one being a hunting knife, and one from William, being a promise that he'd try to emulate his father's good example in everything. Harry simply gasped out his thanks, telling us between quick breaths how much he thought of us all, and that he never so thoroly enjoyed a birthday in his life. The felicitations on both sides flowed like water until bed time, about 10 o'clock. The return of the boys with the skins was the occasion for a little jolt to me, as, when they reached my goat they learned that it was not a billy at all, but a nanny. Billy Wooden's "billy" also turned out to be a nanny, much to his regret. When on the following morning we awoke to find it still raining we began to think that our trip had acted as a hoodoo on the weather. This was our seventh day out from McCarthy, and during that week there was not a day en- tirely free from rain. The boys wrangled and packed the horses in the rain and we mounted our steeds and departed across the Nizina Glacier in the rain. After crossing the ice we entered a pretty, forested valley — the Skolai — following it to Clark's roadhouse, which is no roadhouse at all, but merely the scene of one. We arrived at camp at 4 p. m.; distance traveled 68 Ed a 8 IN THE GOAT AND GLACIER FIELDS during day, ten miles — a mileage negotiable by auto on a good road in fifteen minutes; quite some comparison when you contemplate it. The information developed since our goat hunt on Finger Mountain (also called Rhinoc- eros Peak) that there was a better chance of getting billies on the mountain north of Finger Mountain and across Rohn Glacier from it (in fact, Mr. Baxter told us that billies were not found on Finger Mountain, so we decided to lay over a day at Clark's, and allow William and Rogers to try their luck for a male goat. There- fore, accompanied by Cap, Wooden and Shorty, they departed. Harry, Jimmie Brown and I thought we'd put in the time riding up the trail- a few miles to the Frederika (the route of our proposed ride on the morrow), in the hope that we might see a bear. We saw the fresh track of a little black bear that led us up the Skolai and onto Frederika Glacier, but, losing it on the glacier we returned to camp, after traveling about fifteen miles. The other members returned at 8 p. m. and reported that Baxter's outfit (guiding Mr. Corcoran) had beat them to the mountain aimed for, and that, as far as they could see and learn, the other party had succeeded in getting some billy goats. Wooden reported that he and William had crawled up to within 150 yards of a ram, which William missed. 69 Third Chapter RUSSELL GLACIER THE SPELL OF THE YUKON I've stood in some mighty-mouthed hollow That's plumb-full of hush to the brim ; I've watched the big, husky sun wallow In crimson and gold, and grow dim, Till the moon set the pearly peaks gleaming, And the stars tumbled out, neck and crop ; And I've thought that I surely was dreaming, With the peace o' the world piled on top. The summer — no sweeter was ever ; The sunshiny woods all athrill ; The grayling aleap in the river, The bighorn asleep on the hill. The strong life that never knows harness ; The wilds where the caribou call ; The freshness, the freedom, the farness — O God ! how I'm stuck on it all. There's a land where the mountains are nameless, And the rivers all run God knows where ; There are lives that are erring and aimless, And deaths that just hang by a hair ; There are hardships that nobody reckons ; There are valleys unpeopled and still ; There's a land — oh, it beckons and beckons, And I want to go back — and I will. — Robert Stnice. THIRD CHAPTER RUSSELL GLACIER HHE morning of August i8th found us packing up at Clark's for the fourteen- mile ride up the Skolai River to Skolai Lake. The air was most refreshing, and the hillsides reflected all the variegated shades of green. While we were to pass above timberline on the ride today, yet we started in a spot beautifully clothed in timber. The deciduous foliage was now beginning to receive its autumnal color — about a month ahead of the time in which it is painted in Colorado — but as the pines were greatly in the majority here the yellow spots seemed only as light siftings sprinkled among the green. As the leaf-shedding timber of this country buds out about June ist it will be seen that it remains green only for about two and one- half to three months, or a couple of months less time than in Colorado. The crossing of the Frederika River (which issues from the Frederika Glacier and flows into the Skolai some seven miles above Clark's) was accomplished with some difficulty, including a few leg drenchings, but after all the packs were 73 IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS safely across we settled back into single file up the Skolai again and were happy. A red fox streaked across our forward trail and took shelter in the canon below, while our timberline eleva- tion brought us in close proximity to several eagles, whose buoyant circles and raucous calls were taken as signals that we were welcome to their domain. If these birds should be satisfied with rodents, offal, etc., for their menu, I would feel inclined to like them; but considering the great menace they are to young game, especially lambs and kids, I am heartily in sympathy with the Alaskan view that they should be killed whenever possible. The present 5