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Grinnell,  Joseph 

Gold  hunting  in 
Alaska 


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AS  TOLD    BY 

JOSEPH  GRINNELL 

EDITED    BY 

LIZABETH  GRINNELL 


DAVI D  G.  COOK  PU BLI SH I NG  CO. 

ELGIN, ILL.&  36  WASHI NGTON  ST,  CHICAGO. 


THE  NEW  3  ABB  A  m  LIBRARY 

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The   Girl   Warriors 

BY  ADENE  WILLIAMS. 

This  book  for  girls  is  a  most  interesting  and  in- 
structive story,  and  cannot  fail  to  attract  much 
attention. 


Gold  Hunting  in  Alaska 

BY  JOSEPH  GRINNELI* 

A  story  of  the  adventures  of  young  gold-seekers  in 
Alaska.  It  abounds  in  interesting -information  and  is 
profusely  illustrated. 


The  Transformation  of  Job 

BY  FREDERICK  VINING  FISHER. 
The  author  of  this  story  has  narrated  the  trials  and 
adventures  of  an  orphan  boy  among  the    miners  of 
California,  his  temptations  and  transformation. 


In  His  Steps 


BY  RBV.  CHARLES  M.  SHELDON. 
An  authorized  edition  of  this  world-famous  book, 
and  the  finest  and  cheapest  yet  issued.    The  work 
here  offered  has  been  thoroughly  revised  to  date 


Black    Rock 

BY  RALPH  CONNOR. 

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as  "Black  Rock."  It  is  a  grand  temperance  story, 
crisp,  pathetic,  spiritual,  wholesome. 


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A  STORY  OF  SAN  FRANCISCO'S  CHINATOWN. 

BY  MARY  E.  BAMFOHD. 

Mrs.    Bamford   has   been  a  close   observer   »f    the 
characteristics  of  Chinatown's  people. 


Stepping  Heavenward 

BY  ELIZABETH  J.  PRENTISS. 

This  charming  story  has  been  a  delight  to  thousands 
of  readers,  and  translated  into  five  languages.  It  is 
here  fully  revised. 


The  Throne  of   David 

BY  REV.  J.  H.  INGRAHAJI. 

This  is  by  many  considered  the  best  work  of  the  great 
mind  which  originated  "  The  Prince  of  the  House  of 
David  "  and  "  The  Pillar  of  Fire." 


Eric's 

TRANSLATED   FROM   THE  GERMAN. 
This  is  an  interesting  story  of  a  city  boy  who  spends 
his  vacation  in  a  little  fishing  village  on  the  Baltic  Sea, 
where  he  has  many  new  and  exciting  experiences. 


A  STORY   OF  THE    CUBAN  WAR. 

BY  ANNIE  MARTA  BARNES. 

This  book  will  be  welcomed  by  all  who  feel  an  in- 
terest in  the  late  war  between  the  U.  S.  and  Spain. 


The  Days  of  Abd-el-Kader 

TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  GERMAN. 
This  is  a  thrilling  story  of  life  in  Algeria,  and  narrates 
the  adventures  of  a  captive  boy  and  girl.    The  story  is 
full  of  exciting  situations. 


The  Pillar  of   Fire 

BY  REV.   J.   H.   INORAHAM. 

This  gem  among  religious  story  books  has  had  a  wide 
reputation.  We  have  had  it  revised  and  partly  rewritten 
to  correspond  with  latest  research. 


For  the  Sake  of  a  Name 

BY  ELIZABETH  GRIN.  JELL. 

A  vivid  description  of  life  in  the  slums,  in  which  is 
shown  how  neir  to  ea<x  other  are  t«Jh  and  poor  If  only 
a  sympathetic  interest  fills  each  hear! 


The  Lamplighter 


BY  MARTA 

This  book  has  for  many  years  been  popular  with  all 
classes  of  readers.  This  edition  is  rewritten,  thus  adapt- 
ing it  to  the  wants  of  modern  readers. 


Robert  Hardy's  Seven  Days 

BY  REV.  CHARLES  M.  SHELDON. 
The  story  of  a  man  who  was  suddenly  impressed  with 
the  feeling  that  he  had  but  seven  days  to  live.    The 
question  is  possessed  of  endless  interest. 


Beside  the  Bonnie  Briar  Bush 

BY  IAN  MACLAREN. 

This  edition  has  been  prepared  for  those  who  cannot 
readily  understand  the  Scotch  dialect.  All  difficult 
words  have  been  translated. 


(  CONTINUED    ON    THIRD    PAGK    COVBB  ) 


GOLD  HUNTING  IN  ALASKA 


AS  TOLD  BY 


JOSEPH  GRINNELL 


EDITED  BY  ELIZABETH  GRINNELL 

Author  of  "How  John  and  1  Brought  Up  the  Child,"  "John  and  I  and  the  Church,"  "Our  Feathered 
Friends,"  "  For  the  Sake  of  a  Name,"  etc. 


Dedicates  to  Disappointed  golosbimters  tbe  world  over 


DAVID  C.  COOK  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

ELGIN,  ILL.,  AND 
36  WASHINGTON  STREET,  CHICAGO 


ALASKA. 


The  New  World  brings  her  daughter  out 

With  fuss  and  bluster  now; 
Adorers  sesk  her  snow-white  hand, 

And  at  her  beauty  bow. 
Each  strives  her  favor  first  to  gain, 
And  rudely  steps  upon  her  train. 

They  court  her  while  they  call  her  "  cold " 

And  "distant"  to  her  face; 
The  heiress  smiles,  while  quick  breaths  lift 

Her  frills  of  ancient  lace— 
The  eyes  of  all  her  suitors  rest 
On  glint  of  gold  upon  her  breast.        — E.  G. 


673045 


COPYRIGHT,  1901, 
BY  DAVID  C.  COOK  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 


GOLD  HUNTING  IN  ALASKA. 


PREFACE. 


The  following  story  was  originally  written 
in  pencil  on  any  sort  of  paper  at  hand,  and 
intended  merely  for  "  the  folks  at  home." 
It  is  only  by  a  prior  claim  to  the  manuscript 
that  the  young  gold-hunter's  mother  has  ob- 
tained his  consent  to  publish  it.  The  diary 
has  been  changed  but  little,  nor  has  much 
been  added  to  make  it  as  it  stands.  The  nar- 
rative is  true  from  beginning  to  end,  includ- 
ing the  proper  names  of  persons  and  vessels 
'and  mining  companies.  It  is  offered  to  the 
David  C.  Cook  Publishing  Company  with  no 
further  apologies  for  its  sometimes  boyish 
style  of  construction.  It  will  give  the  reader, 


be  he  man  or  boy.  a  hint  as  to  how  a  young 
fellow  may  spend  his  time  in  the  long  Arctic 
winter,  or  in  the  whole  year,  even  though  he 
be  a  disappointed  gold-hunter.  It  may  af- 
ford suggestion  to  mining  companies  contin- 
ually going  to  Alaska  as  to  their  responsi- 
bility to  each  other  and  to  the  natives  of  the 
"  frozen  North."  It  may  give  "  the  folks 
at  home "  some  intimation  as  to  possible 
"  good  times "  under  trying  circumstances. 
Blue  fingers  may  not  necessarily  denote  a 
blue  heart. 

ELIZABETH  GRINNELL. 
Pasadena,  Cal.,  Jan.  15,  1901. 


CHAPTER  I. 

VE  ARE  a  company  of  twenty  men 
bound  for  Kotzebue  Sound,  Alaska. 
It  is  needless  to  say  we  are  gold-hunt- 
ers. In  this  year  of  our  Lord  1898,  men  are 
flying  northward  like  geese  in  the  spring- 
time. That  not  more  than  one  of  us  has 
ever  set  eyes  on  a  real,  live  nugget  passes 
for  nothing;  we  shall  naturally  recognize 
"  the  yellow  "  when  we  see  it.  It  is  our  inten- 
tion to  ransack  Mother  Nature's  store- 
houses, provided  we  can  unlock  or  pry  open 
the  doors  without  losing  our  fingers  by 
freezing. 

Why  we  have  selected  Kotzebue  Sound  as 
the  field  of  our  maneuvers  it  would  be  diffi- 
cult to  give  a  rational  reason.  It  may  be 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  the  universal  rush 
to  the  gold  fields  of  Alaska,  which  rush,  be- 
ing infectious,  attacks  all  grades  and  con- 
ditions of  men.  That  all  grades  and  con- 
ditions are  represented  in  our  company  will 
be  demonstrated  later  on,  I  believe. 

The  instigator  of  the  Long  Beach  and 
Alaska  Mining  and  Trading  Company  is  an 
undertaker  by  trade,  a  sometime  preacher 
by  profession  and  practice  when  not  other- 
wise engaged.  His  character  is  not  at  all 
in  keeping  with  his  trade;  he  is  a  rollicking 
fellow  and  given  to  much  mirth. 

We  have  also  a  doctor,  as  protection 
against  contingencies.  His  name  is  Coffin. 
He  and  the  undertaker  have  been  bosom 


friends  for  years.  The  combined  influences 
of  these  are  sufficient  to  insure  proper  ter- 
mination to  our  trip,  if  not  a  propitious  jour- 
ney. The  eldest  of  our  company  is  rising 
fifty,  the  youngest  twenty-one.  The  oldest 
has  lived  long  enough  to  be  convinced  that 
gold  is  the  key  that  unlocks  all  earthly 
treasures;  his  sole  object  is  the  key  hidden 
somewhere  in  the  pockets  of  the  great 
Arctic.  The  youngest  cares  little  for  the 
gold,  being  more  concerned  about  certain 
rare  birds  which  may  cross  his  devious  path. 
The  most  of  us  have  never  met  before,  but 
are  now  an  incorporated  mining  company, 
like  hundreds  of  ship's  crews  this  year. 
Each  intends  to  do  his  share  of  work  and  to 
claim  his  portion  of  the  profits,  if  profits 
come. 

We  have  a  two  years'  outfit  of  every  com- 
fort possible  to  store  •  away  on  a  little 
schooner  seventy-two  by  eighteen  feet.  Her 
name  is  "  Penelope;"  you  can  read  it  in 
plain  type  half  a  mile  away.  She  was  built 
for  Japan  waters  and  has  never  set  keel  in 
Arctic  seas.  There  are  numerous  prophecies 
concerning  her:  "  She  will  never  reach  her 
destination;"  "  Impossible  that  she  is  built 
for  a  stormy  coast;"  "You  may  as  well 
make  your  wills  before  you  embark."  And 
many  other  cheering  benedictions  are  tossed 
to  the  deck  by  friends  on  shore  who  watch 
us  loading  the  freight  into  her  hold. 

We  make  no  retort.  Of  what  would  be  the 
use?  Our  hearts,  our  hopes,  ourselves,  are 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


on  board  of  her  for  better  or  for  worse.  We 
wave  our  handkerchiefs  in  a  last  "  good-by." 
They  are  the  only  white  handkerchiefs  in 
our  possession,  brought  and  shaken  out  to 
the  winds  for  this  very  purpose.  From 
henceforth  the  bandana  reigns  on  occasions 
when  any  is  required.  Old  Glory  floats 
above  us;  the  "  Penelope "  is  bright  with 
new  paint  and  trimmings  and  masts;  she  is 
towed  out  of  San  Pedro  Harbor,  and  heads 
for  San  Francisco  for  more  supplies. 

Out  of  San  Pedro  Harbor!  The  very  same 
of  which  R.  H.  Dana  wrote  in  1840  as  a 
"  most  desolate  looking  place,"  frequented 


miles;  that  is,  in  a  direct  line  on  our  course 
to     Unamak     Pass     through     the     Aleutian 
Islands,  for  we  have  had  many  unfavorable 
winds  against  which  we  were  compelled  to 
tack.    We  have  sailed  two  thousand  miles, 
counting  full  distance.  We  have  experienced 
two  storms  which,  put  together,  as  the  cap- 
tain   says,    makes    ".a    good    half    a    gale." 
While  the  "  Penelope  "  rides  the  highest  bil- 
lows like  a  duck,  at  times  she  pitches  and 
rolls  in  a  terrific  fashion.    Her  movements 
are    short    and    jerky,    unlike    those    of    a 
steamer  or  larger   vessel.    When   the   wind 
blows  hard  on  her  quarter,  the  rail  is  often 
under    water.       This 
makes  locomotion  diffi- 
cult,   especially    if    the 
waves  are  rolling  high,  • 
and     everything     i  s 
bouncing     about     on 
deck.    It  is  my  duty  to 
carry  "  grub  "  from  the 
galley    to    the    cabins, 
and  I  can  never  handle 
more  than  one  thing  at 
a  time,  as  I  am  obliged 
to  keep  one  hand  free. 
I    wai;;    for    my    oppor- 
tunity, else  a  heavy  sea 
starts  at  the  same  time 
and    we    go    down    to- 
gether, "  grub  "  and  all. 
However,    I    have    had 
few   accidents.    Once   I 

"Penelope"  at  Anchor  in  San  Pedro  Harbor.  landed  a  big  platter  of 

mush  upside  down  on 
the  deck,  and  at  an- 
by  coyotes  and  Indians,  but  "altogether  the  other  time  a  gust  of  wind  took  all  the  bis- 


best  harbor  on  all  the  coast." 

We  have  a  copy  of  his  "  Two  Years  Before 
the  Mast "  on  board,  and  shall  be  compli- 
mented by  what  he  says  about  the  English- 
men and  Americans  whom  he  met.  "If  the 
California  fever  (laziness)  spares  the  first 


cuits  overboard,  while  a  big  sea  filled  the 
milk  pitcher  with  salt  water.  This  was  not 
so  bad  as  Dana's  experience  with  the 
"  scouse,"  which  "  precious  stuff "  came 
down  all  over  him  at  the  bottom  of  the 
hatchway.  "  Whatever  your  feelings  may 


generation,   it  always  attacks   the   second."     be,  you  must  make  a  joke  of  everything  at 


Did    Dana   mean    the   crew 
lope"?    We  shall  see. 


of   the    "  Pene- 


Having    made    a    dutiful   promise    to    my 
mother  to  "  keep  a  faithful  diary "   of  our 


sea,"  he  wrote  just  after  he  had  found 
himself  lying  at  full  length  on  the  slippery 
deck  with  his  tea-pot,  empty  and  sliding  to 
the  far  side.  We  are  better  off  than  the 
crew  of  the  "  Pilgrim  "  in  1840,  for  there  is 


cruise,  which,  in  event  of  disaster,  shall  be    plenty  more,  if  half  the  breakfast  goes  to 


duly  corked  in  a  large  bottle,  and  sent  adrift. 
I    now   enter   my   first   date   since   April   8, 
1898,   the  day   on   which   we   set   sail 
San  Pedro,  California. 


North  Pacific  Ocean,  Tune  5.— We  are  sev- 
enteen daj's  out  from  San  Francisco,  and 
have  made  a  little  over  twelve  hundred 


feed  the  fishes. 

Down  in  the  cabin  there  is  the  most  fun. 
from  The  table  is  bordered  by  a  deep  rail,  and 
several  slats  are  fastened  crosswise  over  the 
surface  to  hold  the  dishes,  besides  holes  and 
racks  for  cups;  yet  when  things  are  inclined 
at  an  angle  of  thirty  five  degrees  it  is  almost 
impossible,  without  somebody's  hand  on 


GOLD  HUNTJNG  IN  ALASKA. 


each  separate  dish,  to  keep  the  meal  in  sight. 
We  have  some  trouble  in  cooking  at  times, 
but  the  stove  lias  an  iron  frame  with  cross 
pieces  on  top  to  keep  the  kettles  from  slid- 
ing, which,  in  rough  weather,  can  never  be 
filled  more  than  half.  We  usually  get  up 
very  good  meals;  that  is,  for  such  of  the 
crew  as  have  an  appetite.  For  breakfast, 
rolled  oats  mush,  baking  -  powder  biscuit, 
boiled  eggs  or  potatoes,  and  ham.  For  din- 
ner, light  bread  or  milk  toast,  beans  or 
canned  corn,  salt-horse,  creamed  potatoes, 
and  often  soup  with  crackers.  For  supper, 
canned  fruit,  muffins  or  corn  bread,  boiled 
ham  and  baked  potatoes.  Of  course  tea  or 
coffee  with  each  meal.  The  cook  makes  fine 
yeast  bread,  ten  loaves  a  day.  There  are 
twenty-three  men  on  board,  including  the 
hired  sailors  who  are  not  of  the  company, 
and  even  with  five  in  the  hospital  we  make 
way  with  a  good  deal  of  food. 

Our  fare  differs  somewhat  from  that  of 
the  crew  of  the  "  Pilgrim."  whose  regular 
diet,  Dana  wrote,  was  "  salt  beef  and  bis- 
cuit," with  "  an  occasional  potato."  But  it 
must  be  remembered  that  we  had  several 
articles,  such  as  eggs  and  ham  and  fresh  po- 
tatoes, the  first  days  of  our  cruise,  which  we 
never  saw  later  on  when  we  were  confined 
to  bacon  and  beans  for  staple  supplies,  with 
dessicated  vegetables  and  some  canned 
goods  for  extras. 

We  left  San  Francisco  May  19,  after  tak- 
ing on  board  the  parts  of  a  river  boat,  to  be 
put  together  when  needed,  and  much  more 
Arctic  clothing  than  we  can  possibly  use  in 
two  or  even  four  years.  The  sea  was  very 
rough.  Our  captain  had  not  been  on  board 
ship  for  two  years,  and  the  result  was  that 
he,  with  every  one  of  the  party  except  the 
sailors,  was  very  sea-sick.  The  doctor  was 
pretty  well  in  a  couple  of  days,  but  the  un- 
dertaker fared  not  so  well.  He  stayed  on 
deck  and  sang  and  jumped  about  and  did  his 
best  to  keep  jolly  as  long  as  nature  could, 
hold  out,  Presently  one  could  tell  that  he 
was  feeling  rather  uneasy  r.bout  something, 
when  all  of  a  sudden  quietness  reigned  and 
only  an  ominous  sound  from  over  the  rail 
gave  indication  of  what  was  passing. 

We  have  some  tine  singing.  "  The  "  Pene- 
lope Quartette  "  has  been  formed  and  prac- 
tices every  evening,  makinir  voluminous 
noise,  but  there  is  no  fear  of  disturbing 
adjoining  meetings  or  concerts.  The  quar- 
tette is  composed  of  Reynolds  (the  under- 
taker), Foote,  Wilson  and  Miller.  There  are 
other  singers  of  less  renown.  We  have  a 
"  yell,"  which  is  frequently  to  be  heard,  es- 


pecially at  getting-up  time  in  the  morning. 
It  is  "  Penelope,  Penelope,  zip.  boom,  ah! 
Going  up  to  Kotzebue!  rah!  rah!  rah!" 

We  are  very  much  crowded  and  have 
many  discomforts,  as  anyone  can  imagine 
we  should  have  in  so  close  quarters;  but  we 
are  a  congenial  crowd.  I  was  sea-sick  for  a 
week,  but  am  all  right  now  and  capable  of 
eating  more  than  anyone  else,  a  symptom 
which  the  doctor  fears  may  continue,  as  1 
make  it  a  rule  to  eat  up  all  there  is  left  at 
both  tables.  There  are  eleven  men  in  the 
after  cabin  and  twelve  in  the  forward  cabin, 
including  the  forecastle,  and  each  set  have 
meals  served  in  their  respective  cabins. 
Having  been  chosen  as  "  cook's  assistant,"  I 
have  ample  opportunities. 

We  have  seen  but  few  things  of  interest 
outside  the  boat,  and  that  makes  us  more 
interesting  to  one  another.  We  have  sighted 
no  vessels  for  two  weeks.  I  saw  two  fur 
seals.  They  stuck  their  heads  above  the 
water  just  behind  us.  eying  us  curiously  for 
a  few  minutes,  and  then  vanished.  We  have 
seen  one  shark,  but  no  whales.  Petrels,  or 
Mother  Gary's  Ghickens,  are  almost  always 
to  be  seen  flitting  over  the  waves.  Black- 
footed  albatrosses,  or  "  goonies."  as  the  sail- 
ors call  them,  are  common,  following  the 
boat  and  eating  all  kinds  of  scraps  thrown 
to  them.  We  caught  two  with  a  fish-hook, 
but  let  them  go,  as  there  is  now  no  suitable 
place  to  put  the  skins.  One  of  the  alba- 
trosses measured  seven  feet  three  inches 
from  tip  to  tip  of  the  outstretched  wings. 
We  fastened  upon  his  back  a  piece  of  can- 
vas, giving  the  "  Penelope,"  with  the  date 
and  longitude  and  latitude.  I  wonder  if  he 
will  ever  be  seen  again,  and,  if  seen,  if  this 
will  be  the  only  news  of  us  the  world  will 
ever  receive! 

There  are  several  "  goonies "  which  seem 
to  follow  us  constantly.  We  have  named 
them  Jim,  Tom  and  Hannah.  They  know 
when  meal  time  arrives,  and  then  come  close 
alongside  within  a  few  feet. 

Tuesday,  June  7.— The  past  two  days  have 
been  stormy,  but  we  have  made  good  time 
and  are  only  four  hundred  and  sixty-seven 
miles  from  Unamak  Pass.  We  saw  several 
pieces  of  kelp  this  morning,  which  gives  evi- 
dence of  land  not  far  off.  This  morning  the 
sun  came  out  several  times,  and  every  one 
is  feeling  quite  jolly,  which  makes  even  the 
sea -sick  ones  better.  One  of  the  most  pop- 
ular songs  on  deck  these  cloudy  days  has 
been  the  familiar  one,  "  Let  a  little  sunshine 
in."  Everyone  was  singing  it  to-day,  when 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


Cooks'  Union. 


Sailors'  Union. 


suddenly  the 
clouds  broke  as  if 
by  impulse  and  the 
warm  sunshine 
flooded  the  damp 
decks. 

The  sun  doesn't 
set  now  till  nearly 
nine  o'clock,  and 
the  whole  night 
long  it  is  scarcely 
dark  at  all. 
To-day  Clyde  took  the  pictures  of  the 
party  in  groups,  or  "  unions."  There  is  the 
"  Sailors'  Union  "  (six  of  the  boys  besides 
the  regular 
sailors,  who  go 
to  the  watch 
along  with 
them  and  take 
their  tricks  at 
the  wheel), 
the  "Dish- 
washers' 
U  n  i  o  n,"  the 
"Doctors' 
Union"  (Dr. 
Coffin,  and 
Jett,  who  is  a  druggist),  the  "  Cooks'  Union  " 
(Shafer  and  myself),  and  the  "  Crips'  Union  " 
(the  cripples,  or  those  who  are  sea-sick,  and 
do  no  work;  they  are  Fancher,  Wyse,  Mc- 
Collough,  Wilson,  Reynolds  and  Shaul).  If 
the  winds  are  favorable  we  expect  to  rest  in 
Dutch  Harbor  for  a  few  days,  as  we  are  no 
doubt  too  early  to  get  into  Kotzebue.  From 
all  accounts  we  cannot  hope  to  reach  the 
Sound  until  July  14. 

This  sort  of  experience  is  so  new  to  me. 
I  thought  I  knew  something  of  life  on  a 
schooner,  during  the  trip  to  San  Clemente 
and  San  Nicholas  hist  year,  but  this  is  more 
and  better.  Nearly  everyone  save  myself  is 
longing  for  land,  and  they  watch  our  course 
each  day  as  it  is  traced  on  the  chart  with 
more  interest  than  anything  else.  Just  now 
i  am  sitting  alone  on  a  bench  in  the  little 
galley,  watching  the  potatoes  and  salt-horse 
boiling.  The  sun  has  come  out  and  every- 
one is  on  deck,  the  "  crips "  lying  against 
the  stern  rail  or  along  the  side  of  the  cabin. 
By  orders  of  the  doctor  all  the  bedding  is 
airing  on  the  deck  and  rails  amidships,  and 
some  of  the  boys  are  taking  advantage  of 
the  fair  weather  to  do  their  washing.  I  did 
my  own  yesterday,  although  it  was  raining, 
and.  as  I  have  a  "  pull  "  with  the  cook.  I 
dried  the  clothes  in  the  galley  at  night.  Of 
course  all  washing  has  to  be  done  in  salt 


water  and  it  is  scarcely  satisfactory,  to  say 
the  least.  This  necessary  laundry  work  of 
ours  is  destined  to  occupy  a  good  deal  of 
our  time  and  patience,  and  I  suspect  that 
before  our  cruise  is  over  we  shall  long  for  a 
glimpse  of  a  good,  faithful  washerwoman 
with  her  suds,  and  her  arms  akimbo,  and  her 
open  smile. 

June  12.— We  are  in  Bering  Sea  and  all's 
well.  It  is  partly  clear,  but  cold,  with  a 
sharp  wind.  We  went  through  Uuamak 
Pnss  in  the  night.  The  captain  thought  it 
dangerous  as  well  as  delaying,  to  stop  at 
Dutch  Harbor,  so  we  gave  it  up  with  disap- 
pointment. After  beating  for  several  hours, 
we  are  now  well  on  our  way  straight  north- 
ward to  St.  Lawrence  Island.  There  is  no 
ice  in  sight,  but  we  can  smell  it  distinctly. 
As  we  went  through  the  Pass  it  was  raining, 
and  we  could  see  but  indistinctly  the  pre- 
cipitous shores.  The  Pass  is  not  usually 
taken  by  sailing  vessels,  as  it  is  quite  nar- 
row, but  our  captain  brought  us  through  all 
right  in  spite  of  fog  and  storm.  He  has  not 
slept  for  forty-eight  hours.  The  shortest 
time  ever  made  by  a  sailing  vessel  from  San 
Francisco  to  Unamak  Pass,  2,100  miles,  was 
eighteen  days;  and  we  made  it  with  the 
"  Penelope  "  in  twenty-three  days.  Hurrah 

, for  the  "Penelope"! 

This  morning  we 
passed  within  hailing 
distance  of  the  ship 
"  Sintram,"  of  San 
Francisco.  She  had 
taken  a  cargo  to  St. 
Michaels  and  was  on 
her  way  back.  Her 
captain  promised  to  re- 
port us,  and  he  also 
told  us  that  the  ice 
was  yet  packed  north 


Dishwashers'  Onion. 


of  St.  Michaels  and  that  several  ships  were 
waiting.  Clyde  took  a  snap  shot  of  the 
"  Sintram." 

There  are 
plenty  of 
birds  to  be 
seen  now.  If 
I  had  faith 
enough  to 
warrant  m  y 
walking  o  n 
the  water  I 
would  go 
shooting.  Our 
small  boats 
are  all  lashed  Crips,  Union> 


the  deck  of  the  "  Penelope,  but  the  cap- 
tain says  that  in  a  few  days  we  can  put  a 
skiff  overboard  if  it  is  calm,  and  then  ho! 
for  murre  pot-pie!  Everyone  is  hungry  for 


GOLD  HUN21NG  IN  ALASKA. 


1 


A  Sunbath  on  Deck. 

fresh   meat.    We  try  fishing  with  no  luck. 
Saw  a  fur  seal  to-day,  the  first  in  two  weeks. 

June  19,  Bering  Sea,  latitude  63  degrees, 
longitude  172  degrees,  38  minutes. — For  the 
past  few  days  we  made  good  time,  one  hun- 
dred miles  to  the  day,  but  on  this  date  we 
are  becalmed.  Clyde  has  gone  out  in  the 
boat  to  catch  a  snap  shot  of  us.  He  need 
not  hurry,  for  never  was  mouse  more  still 
than  the  "  Penelope  "  at  this  moment.  The 
thermometer  registers  38  degrees  on  deck. 
We  have  sighted  no  ice  yet,  and  hope  the 
Bering  Straits  are  open. 

I  am  sitting  in  the  galley,  as  my  fingers  get 
too  cold  to  write  outside.  We  have  just 
cleared  off  supper,  and  the  boys  are  pacing 
the  deck  for  exercise.  Some  of  them  are  be- 
low, where  an  oil  stove  in  each  cabin  takes 
the  chill  and  dampness  from  the  nir.  It  is 
seldom  that  the  galley  is  not  crammed  full, 
but  just  now  the  cook  and  the  others  have 
gone  below  for  a  game  of  whist,  so  I  em- 
brace the  opportunity  to  write.  My  diary  is 
always  written  after  I  have  finished  my 
daily  bird  notes,  which  I  make  as  copious  as 
possible.  I  have  some  good  records  already. 
We  were  becalmed  three  days  in  sight  of  the 
Prybiloff  Islands,  and  at  one  time  were  so 
close  to  St.  Paul  Island  that  we  could  hear 
the  barking  of  thousands  of  seais,  and,  by 
the  aid  of  a  field  glass,  could  see  them  on 


the  beaches.  A  few  were  seen  about  the 
"  Penelope,"  and  one  came  so  near  to  the 
boat  that  it  was  touched  with  an  oar.  We 
nnlashed  the  smallest  boat  and  rowed  out 
with  her  during  the  calmest  days,  so  we  had 
some  much-needed  exercise.  Frequent  fogs 
kept  us  near  the  "  Penelope's  "  side,  as  we 
should  easily  become  lost.  We  saw  no  ducks 
or  geese,  but  we  had  murres  in  plenty  and 
pot-pie  for  several  days.  For  a  change  the> 
were  served  up  in  roasts,  being  first  boiled, 
and  were  finer  than  any  duck  I  have  tasted, 
though  some  of  the  squeamish  crew  compos- 
ing the  "  Crips'  Union  "  declared  they  were 
"  fishy." 

Of  course  I  improve  every  opportunity  dur- 
ing pleasant  days  to  collect,  and  the  result  is 
thirteen  first-class  bird  skins.  These  sea 
birds  are  almost  all  fat  and  the  grease  clings 
to  and  grows  into  the- skin  so.  firmly  that  it 
is  almost  impossible  to  put  them  up.  Among 
the  good  things  which  I  have  secured  are 
the  crested  auklet,  red  phalarope,  pallas. 
murre  and  horned  puffin,  but  it  will  be  diffi- 
cult to  nreserve  the  skins  in  this  damp  cli- 
mate. Dr.  Coffin  is  becoming  interested  al- 
ready, and  talks  of  putting  in  his  spare 
time  collecting  with  me.  He  has  been  tak- 
ing lessons  in  skinning,  and  so  far  has  put 
up  two  specimens.  We  have  rigged  up  a 
cracker-box  for  our  bird-skins  and  try  to 
keep  it  in  the  dryest  place,  though  it  is  so 


Speaking  the  "Sintram." 

crowded    on    shipboard    that    a    convenient 
place  for  any  particular  thing  is  scarce. 

The  currents  in  Bering  Sea  are  quite 
strong,  tending  northward  toward  the 
straits,  so  that  even  when  the  wind  fails 


8 


GOLD    HUNTING    2N  ALASKA. 


us  we  are  drifting  towards  our  destination 
at  the  rate  of  fifteen  to  twenty  miles  a  day. 
On  board  we  are  all  happy  and  in  good 
spirits,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  some 
have  never  before  known  a  hardship,  and 
their  eight  hours  watch  per  day  on  deck, 
especially  when  it  is  stormy,  is  calculated  . 
to  make  them  think  longingly  of  their  pleas- 
ant homes.  Besides,  many  of  tlie  boys  have 
salt  water  sores  on  their  hands  and.  chil- 
blains on  their  feet. 

Yesterday   the   sea   was   choppy  and   sev- 
eral were  sea-sick  again.    Even  I  felt  that 
peculiar  indescribable  sensation,  but  I  ate  a 
hearty  dinner  of  beans   and   salt   pork  and 
felt  better.    C.  C.  is  suffering  from  what  he 
declares    is    "  indigestion "    a 
weakness  to  which  he  has  al- 
ways  been  subject.    He  feels 
a.  reluctance  to  owning  that  he 
has     the     common     ailment. 
"  C.  C."  is  our  abbreviation  for 
Reynolds,  the  undertaker  and 
sometime  preacher.    He  makes 
so  much  fun  for  other  people 
that  we  cannot  help  amusing 
ourselves  at  his  expense  some- 
times. 

We  passed  St.  Matthew 
Island  and  caught  a  glimpse  of 
its  rugged  shores  through  the 
thick  fog.  We  can  generally 
tell  the  proximity  of  land  by 
the  increased  number  of  sea-birds.  It  is  not 
often  that  the  sun  appears  now.  but  occa- 
sionally it  shows  itself  long  enough  for  the 
captain  to  take  his  observations.  It  is  light 
all  night  and  seems  like  a  dream  of  child- 
hood to  have  to  go  to  bed  before  the  lamps 
are  lighted. 

I  must  pay  a  compliment  to  our  captain. 
Besides  knowing  his  business  thoroughly,  he 
is  a  jolly,  agreeable  man,  always  cutting 
jokes  except  during  a  storm.  He  has  been 
created  the  "  Penelope's  "  laureate,  and  has 
written  a  couple  of  poems  that  would  make 
good  his  rank  anywhere. 

There  was  one  day  when  we  all  had  an 
attack  of  the  poetic  fever  and  wrote 
verses.  They  will  be  found  in  the  ship's  log. 

To-day  is  Sunday,  and  as  usual  we  all  at- 
tended services,  which  consist  of  songs  and 
a  short  talk  from  C.  J.  The  rest  of  the  day 
is  like  any  other. 

Last  night  an  exhausted  sandpiper  flew  on 
board  and  was  caught.  I  was  asleep  and 
the  boys  came  and  laid  it  on  my  breast.  He 
is  now  safely  wrapped  in  cotton  wadding 
and  laid  to  rest  in  the  aforementioned 


cracker-box.  The  boys  declared  they  would 
whip  me  for  not  letting  him  go,  and  yet 
when  they  get  a  chance  they  shoot  at  birds 
from  the  boat  for  "  sport,"  with  no  other 
purpose  in  view.  I  am  doing  my  best  to 
educate  them  in  bird  lore,  but  whenever  I 
get  off  the  long  Latin  names  they  give  me 
the  "  ha-ha."  By  this  time  and  after  many 
lessons  the  most  of  them  know  a  murre  by 
sight,  and  a  fork-tailed  petrel,  and  a  kitti- 
wake;  but  when  it  comes  to  distinguishing 
the  different  species  of  auklets  at  a  distance 
they  think  I  am  fooling  them,  and  laugh  at 
me  until  I  show  them  the  bird  at  close 
range.  I  never  realized  before  the  vastness 
of  the  sea  as  when  a  solitary  little  bird  dips 
his  wings  and  flies  skyward. 


J 


Becalmed  in  Bering  Sea. 


CHAPTER  II. 

UXE  1.— Yesterday  the  fog 
cleared  and  disclosed  to 
us  the  snowy  peaks  of  the 
Siberian  coast  far  to  the  north- 
west, and  in  front  to  the  north 
of  us  the  long  coast  line  of  St. 
Lawrence  Island.  We  headed 
for  the  west  end  of  the  island, 
intending  to  pass  up  the  chan- 
nel between  it  and  the  Si- 
berian coast.  Saw  two  vessels 
in  the  distance  returning  from 
that  direction.  After  we  had  beat  against 
a  bad  wrind  all  day  we  found  ourselves 
almost  surrounded  by  icebergs.  With  the 
field  glass  we  could  see  the  whole  hori- 
zon a  solid  mass  of  ice.  Our  way  was 
blocked.  Turning  eastward,  we  tried  the 
passage  between  St.  Lawrence  Island  and 
the  Alaskan  coast.  The  wind  was  blowing 
bitterly  cold  from  the  Siberian  shore.  Beat- 
ing eastward  along  the  south  side  of  the 
island,  we  have  now  left  the  ice  behind. 
This  afternoon  a  two-masted  schooner  spoke 
us  on  her  way  to  try  the  passage  we  had 
just  abandoned.  She  turned  and  sailed  with 
us.  She  carried  a  pretty  tough-looking 
crowd  of  miners.  They,  like  ourselves,  are 
bound  for  Kotzebue.  We  gave  them  the 
"  Penelope  "  yell,  which  they  returned  with 
three  cheers.  In  sizing  up  their  piratical  ap- 
pearance we  forgot  to  look  in  the  glass. 

June  25. — Seventy-five  miles  southeast  of 
Bering  Strait.  The  Alaskan  mainland  north 
of  Norton  Sound  in  plain  view.  Have  spent 
five  days  ttying  to  get  around  St.  Lawrence. 
Are  still  in  sight  of  the  east  end.  It  is  calm. 


GOLD    BUNTING    JN  ALASKA. 


We  need  more  wind.  Entered  Bering  Sea 
two  weeks  ago,  and  the  days  have  been  like 
a  yachting  cruise.  Everyone  is  in  good 
spirits.  Several  of  the  boys  are  \vitty  and 
jokes  fly.  And  the  singing!— we  exhaust  the 


Sighting  a  Vessel. 

words  we  know  and  then  make  up  as  we  go 
along,  like  plantation  negroes.  Are  playing 
several  tournaments  in  games.  Only  one  so 
far  has  been  concluded— the  domino  game. 
Dr.  Coffin  and  Jett  were  the  unlucky  ones, 
and  last  night  they  entertained  the  crowd. 
Captain  was  master  .of  ceremonies  and 
dressed  in  a  most  ludicrous  manner.  He 
made  a  mock  speech  and  read  a  poem.  The 
two  unlucky  victims  were  treated  to  burnt 
cork  and  wore  great  Eskimo  muckluks 
(sealskin  boots),  miirre-skin  hats, 
and  red  calico  decorations.  Doc- 
tor beat  the  big  tin  washpan  and 
Jett  blew  the  foghorn.  The  cap- 
tain's wand  was  a  boat-hook  with 
a  shining  red  onion  on  the  tip  and 
bearing  a  red  pasteboard  banner 
with  the  motto,  "  On  to  Kotze- 
bue."  They  were  to  march  fifty 
times  around  the  deck.  Casey, 
our  Irishman,  was  appointed  po- 
liceman by  the  captain  "  to  keep 
the  small  boys  and  the  carriages 
off  the  street."  And  so,  to  the 
tune  of  the  foghorn  and  the  dish- 
pan,  they  tramped  their  penalty. 
Then  the  captain  gave  an  exhibition  of  clog 
dancing,  with  a  fife  and  harmonica  accom- 
paniment. So  one  can  see  there  is  always 
something  going  on  to  break  the  monotony 
and  keep  the  blues  away.  We  suffer  little 
from  dull  times.  WThales  are  now  as  com- 


mon as  seals.  One  we  saw  looked  as  large 
as  the  "  Penelope."  Clyde  took  its  picture. 
I  got  out  our  Wincnester  to-day.  Am  on  the 
lookout  for  polar  bears,  which  are  expected 
to  frequent  the  ice  packs.  The  cook  has  just 
yelled  "  Supper!"  and  everyone  is  singing 
"  Beulah  Land." 

Arctic  Ocean,  July  7.— The  next  morning 
after  my  last  date  we  sailed  to  within  a 
mile  of  King's  Island.  This  is  a  precipitous 
point  of  rock  scarcely  a  mile  in  diameter, 
and  yet  more  than  two  hundred  Indians  live 
upon  it.  Before  we  were  within  three  miles 
of  the  island  the  natives  began  to  come 
alongside  of  the  "  Penelope "  in  their  skin 
canoes,  or  kyaks,  wanting  to  trade.  These 
were  the  first  natives  we  had  seen,  and  our 
interest  in  them  was  unbounded.  Fully  fif- 
teen canoes,  some  singly,  but  mostly  lashed 
together  in  pairs,  reached  us,  and  their  occu- 
pants came  on  board  with  their  sealskin 
bags  full  of  articles  to  trade.  They  had  a 
large  quantity  of  walrus  tusks,  some  of 
large  size,  weighing  probably  ten  pounds, 
and  very  valuable.  There  were  polar  bear 
skins  and  fox  skins  beautifully  tanned,  also 
sealskin  coats  and  muckluks  (skin  boots). 

They  wanted  in  exchange  clothes,  flour, 
tobacco,  knives,  etc.,  and,  if  we  had  pre- 
pared ourselves,  we  could  have  obtained 
many  valuable  things.  Most  of  us  saved 
what  things  we  had  to  trade  with  later  on. 

Beyond  King's  Island  our  way  was  again 
blocked  with  ice.  We  then  turned  east 
towards  Port  Clarence,  but  in  a  couple  of 
hours  encountered  the  ice  pack  extending 


Natives  of  King's  Island  Coming  to  Trade. 

out  full  twenty  miles  from  the  Alaskan 
shore.  We  thought  our  way  was  blocked, 
but  the  captain  thought  we  could  keep  along 
the  shore  ice,  and  did  so,  the  passage  open- 
ing as  we  advanced.  After  skirting  the  ice 
all  day  we  entered  the  straits  at  midnight 


10 


GOLD  HUNTING  IN  ALASKA. 


June  26,  and  found  ourselves  between  the  to  be  heading  through  a  break  in  the  shore 
Diomede  Islands  and  Cape  Prince  of  Wales,  side  of  the  ice,  and  we  followed.  Both  boats 
Everyone  was  on  deck  enjoying  the  scene  dropped  anchor  about  a  mile  from  the 


until  2  a.  m.      The  sun  loitered  along  the 
horizon  four  hours  and  at  midnight  barely 


Alaskan  shore  in  shallow  water,  where  the 
ice     had     left     a     clean     anchorage.      The 


disappeared.  The  clouds  and  water  were  "  Acret "  and  "  Penelope "  were  so  far  the 
gorgeously  tinted  in  the  manner  so  often  de-  first  boats  to  pass  through  the  straits, 
scribed  by  Arctic  travelers.  No  words  can  We  were  all  eager  to  land.  As  soon  as  the 
do  the  scene  justice.  To  the  right  rose  the  dinky  was  overboard,  tive  of  the  boys,  with 
mountains  of  Alaska,  extending  far  back  little  thought  for  anyone  else,  as  was  quite 
from  Cape  Prince  of  Wales,  the  shores  natural  under  the  circumstances,  jumped 
broken  by  their  blue-tinted  ice  pack.  Dark  in  and  moved  for  shore.  And  what  was  ex- 
blue  shadows  stood  the  mountains  out  in  asperating  beyond  description  to  us  who 
beautiful  distinctness.  On  our  left  were  the  were  obliged  to  wait  our  turn,  they  did  not 
precipitous  Diomede  Islands  and  Fairway  bring  the  boat  back  for  two  hours.  We  have 
Rock,  with  the  snowy  mountains  of  the  Si-  forgiven  them,  but  they'll  have  to  pay  for  it. 


berian  shore  rising  further  in  the  distance. 

Ahead,  our  progress  would  soon  be  stopped 
by  the  long  line  of  ice  extending  under  the 
Arctic  horizon, 
where  the  sun 
was  vainly  en- 
deavoring to  set. 
Just  at  midnight 
a  spot  of  blazing 
light  appeared  at 
Cape  Prince  of 
Wales,  fully  eight 
miles  away.  It 
was  the  reflection 
of  the  fiery  red 


Nearing  the  Great  Ice  Pack. 


At  6  p.  m.,  Dr.  Coffin  and  I,  and  others, 
landed  and  started  on  our  first  tramp.  Our 
feet  were  for  the  first  time  on  Alaskan  soil. 
But  we  saw  none 
of  the  soil.  Moss 
everywhere,  and 
flowers  and  wild 
strawberries.  It 
was  a  queer  sen- 
sation to  set  one's 
feet  down  on 
what  looked  like 
substantial 
ground  and  sink 
a  few  inches  to 


sun  on  the  window  of  the  mission  which  has  solid  ice,  crushing  the  flowers  beneath, 

been  established  at  that  point.    These  shores  I  was  all  eyes  and  ears  for  what  new  birds 

are  not  inviting,  and  yet  we  know  that  here  might  cross  my  path.    Almost  the  first  thing 

on  this  bleak  coast  are  living,  the  whole  year  a  flock  of  Emperor  geese  flew  past  me  and 


through,  American  missionaries,  whose  pur- 
pose is  as  eternal  as  the  icebergs. 


were   out   of   range.     These   are   the   rarest 
geese  in  North  America  and  found  only  in 


Everyone  was  happy  and  exerting  himself  Alaska.    I  saw  but  one  land  ,bird,  a  species 

to  express  what  he  felt.    Some  yelled  wildly,  of  sparrow,   but  there  were  large  numbers 

and,   taking   off  their  shoes   and   stockings,  of  water  birds.    I  obtained  some  rare  eggs, 

threw    them    into   the   ocean.     Others    sang  such   as  phalarope,   western  sandpiper,   etc. 

with  might  and  main.    "  Beulah  L?md  "  and  A  snowy  owl  was  flushed,  the  first  I  ever 

"  Nearer,  My  God.  to  Thee  "  were  followed  saw  alive,  and  it  was  at  once  mobbed  by  a 

by    "  Yankee    Doodle "    and    "  My    Country,  dozen   Arctic  terns  'which   had    their   nests 

'tis  of  Thee,"  with  everybody  dancing  and  near  by.    The  laud  here  is  low  and  rolling, 

running  about  like  a  lot  of  Indians.    "  Pen-  with  little  knolls  and  lakes.    The  .ground  in 

elope,  Penelope,  zip,  boom,  bah!  Going  up  to  places  was  thawed  about  a  foot — that  is,  tak- 

Kotzebue,  rah!  rah!  rah!"  was  yelled  till  all  ing  the  depth  from  the  top  of  the  spongy 

were  hoarse.    Finally,  about  3  p.  m.,  we  be-  moss.    On  the  dryer  knolls  several  kinds  of 


gan  to  quiet  down  for  a  little  sleep. 


flowers  were   blooming  and   the   grass   was 


In  the  night  a  small  schooner  like  our  own,    luxuriant  in  places.    I  searched  for  insects, 


the  "  Acret,"  caught  up  with  us.  having 
found  the  passage  we  had  followed.  WTe 
passed  through  scattering  ice  and  sailed 


but   found    only   two    bumblebees,    which 
could  not  catch,  having  no  net  with  me. 
WTe  stayed  on  shore  until  midnight,  tramp- 


about  fifteen  miles  beyond  the  straits,  but    ing  over  the  tundra  and  collecting  birds  and 


here  were  confronted  by  the  solid  ice  pack 
of  the  Arctic  which  extended  on  all  sides. 


eggs.  At  1  a.  m.  rowed  back  to  the  schooner. 
A  canoe  load  of  Indians  had  come  alongside, 


After  sailing  about  in  circles  in  this  limited     and  they  had  one  Emperor  goose.    I  coveted 
area  of  water  all  day,  the  "  Acret "  was  seen    it.    Tried    to   trade    for   it,    offering    several 


GOLD  HUNTING  IN  ALASKA. 


11 


articles,  but  failed  to  offer  the  right  thing. 
Afterwards  one  of  the  "  Acret "  men  ob- 
tained it  for  an  old  tin  tomato  can.  The 
"  Acret  "  fellows  had  also  been  on  shore  and 
succeeded  in  shooting  another  goose,  so  they 
now  had  a  pair  of  them,  which  they  allowed 
me  to  have  for  the  skinning,  provided  I  re- 
turned the  bodies  in  time  for  breakfast.  I 
was  happy.  I  immediately  went  to  work, 
having  the  usual  experience  in  skinning  sea 
birds  with  the  enormous  amount  of  fat 
which  must  be  peeled,  rubbed,  scraped  and 
picked  off.  It  took  me  until  three  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  and  I  was  then  glad  to  crawl 
into  my  bunk  for  a  little  sleep.  By  night 
the  next  day  the  water  seemed  almost  clear 
of  ice,  so  we  heaved  anchor  and  started 
northeast  along  the  shore  towards  Kotze- 
bue.  Soon  came  to  the  ice  again,  scattered 
and  in  blocks. 
Keeping  right  on 
between  the 
blocks,  we  came 
to  a  big,  fatherly 
iceberg  which 
had  run  aground. 
The  water  here 
was  very  shallow, 
and  we.  had  to 
be  careful  not 
to  run  aground 
ourselves.  The 
"Penelope" 
draws  eleven  feet 
of  water,  and  a 
mile  from  shore 
it  is  often 

scarcely  three  fathoms,  and  of  course  shal- 
lower towards  shore. 

It  was  very  exciting  sometimes  when  the 
ice  blocks  became  too  thick.  And  they 
choked  and  moaned  and  snored  and  heaved 
against  each  other  in  a  fit  of  passion,  and 
challenged  one  another  to  "  come  on/'  and 
ground  their  teeth  in  rage,  and  swished 
calmly,  and  chuck-a-lucked  through  the 
water.  It  was  a  grand  sight  to  remember. 

At  times  several  of  the  boys  had  to  take 
poles — driftwood  which  we  had  taken  posses- 
sion of  for  just  such  an  emergency  —  and. 
standing  at  the  bow,  push  off  the  ice.  Even 
then  several  of  the  larger  blocks  got  the  bet- 
ter of  us  and  would  stop  our  progress  by  a 
sturdy  crunch  against  the  "  Penelope," 
scraping  along  her  side  and  taunting  her 
with  piratical  intention.  But  she  was  firm 
and  answered  not  a  word,  giving  only  a  few 
scales  of  her  weather-beaten  paint  as  a  sort 
of  peace-offering. 


Anchored  to  a  Grounded  Iceberg. 


The  "  Acret "  was  all  the  while  accom- 
panying us,  most  of  the  time  ahead,  for  she 
drew  only  eight  feet,  so  she  could  sail  nearer 
shore  than  we  could,  where  the  water  was 
clearer  of  ice.  We  anchored  two  nights  and 
a  day,  again  sheltered  behind  a  grounded 
iceberg. 

The  "  Acret  "  and  "  Penelope  "  were  tied 
up  side  by  side,  and  we  exchanged  calling 
courtesies.  This  crew  was  intending  to 
prospect  in  couples,  each  two  men  having  a 
boat.  Each  person  was  independent  of  any 
other  man,  unless  they  should  choose  to 
form  partnership  among  themselves.  That 
is,  they  were  not  formed  into  a  regular  com- 
pany as  we  were.  We  are  no  doubt  better 
off  individually  as  we  are,  though  this  re- 
mains to  be  proved. 

After  spending  several  days  slowly  mak- 
ing our  way 
along  the  Alas- 
kan coast  to- 
wards Kotzebue, 
through  the  still 
breaking  ice,  on 
July  2  we  found 
ourselves  really 
in  a  dangerous 
position.  The 
wind  began  to 
blow  from  out  to 
sea,  thus  crowd- 
ing the  ice  to- 
wards shore, 
making  our  sail- 
ing quarters  more 
and  more  limited. 

We  were  already  running  too  close  in,  from 
two  to  three  iathoms,  when  suddenly  the 
schooner  ran  aground,  and  we  found  our- 
selves stuck  on  a  sandy  bottom,  with  the 
ice  rapidly  moving  down  on  us.  An  anchor 
was  quickly  towed  out  and  dropped,  so  that 
by  heaving  in  on  the  .anchor  chain  the  boat 
could  be  dragged  out  into  deep  water.  This 
was  slowly  being  accomplished,  when  a 
mass  of  ice  too  large  to  pole  off  caught 
against  the  schooner,  causing  a  tremendous 
strain  on  the  anchor  chain. 

Another  ice  cake  floated  against  the  first, 
and  the  "  Penelope "  would  have  been 
crowded  deeper  and  deeper  aground  had  not, 
after  much  chopping  and  prying,  a  crack 
opened  up  across  the  ice  on  our  port  bow. 
The  two  pieces  swung  apart,  leaving  the 
"  Penelope  "  free.  Again  we  tried  to  heave 
into  deeper  water,  and  finally  with  all  sails 
set  and  all  hands  pulling  on  the  chain,  the 
boat  slid  off  in  time  to  escape  another  big 


12 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN   ALASKA. 


sheet  of  ice.  Of  course  this  was  one  of  the 
few  times  we  did  not  feel  like  shouting  and 
singing.  We  held  our  breath.  It  was  an 
unpleasant  experience,  but  one  upon  which 
we  can  look  back  with  a  sort  of  quiet  satis- 


Natives  with  Walrus-hide  Canoe. 

faction.  We  shall  at  least  have  one  hair- 
breadth escape  to  narrate  to  our  friends  at 
home.  After  dodging  and  threading  our 
way,  the  captain  finally  sailed  us  into  an 
open  tract  of  water  outside  the  ice. 

We  have  made  little  progress  these  last 
days.  We  have  been  sailing  about  in  circles, 
at  times  coming  within  forty  miles  of  Cape 
Blossom,  but  still  blocked  by  the  line  of  ice 
that  closes  the  mouth  of  Kotzebue  Sound. 
It  is  now  rapidly  breaking  up  and  melting, 
and  as  soon  as  an  off-shore  wind  sets  in,  the 
ice  will  be  surely  driven  out  to  sea  and  our 
path  will  be  clear.  We  are  fifty  days  from 
San  Francisco,  and  the  majority  of  us  are 
longing  for  land.  Vessels  are  constantly 
coming  in  sight. 

Last  night  twelve  vessels  besides  our  own 
were  seen  waiting  for  the  ice  to  open. 
What  a  mad  rush  this  is  to  a  land  nobody 
knows  anything  about,  and  whose  treasure- 
trove,  if  she  holds  any,  is  far  in  the  in- 
terior! There  is  plenty  of  country,  if  not  of 
gold,  for  us  all,  and  we  can  take  our 
chances. 

We  have  spoken  the  bark  "  Guardian " 
from  Seattle  with  130  on  board.  The  bark- 
entine  "Northern  Light"  from  San  Fran- 
cisco with  120  on  board;  the  bark  "  Leslie 
D."  with  58  on  board,  besides  the  "  Cath- 
erine Sudden,"  and  others  whom  we  have 
not  been  near  enough  to  speak. 

While  we  were  near  shore  natives,  Eski- 
mos, came  on  board  in  their  skin  canoes 


nearly  every  day,  and  often  stayed  several 
hours  with  us.  Indeed  they  would  remain 
with  ns  all  the  time  if  allowed  to.  They  are 
very  greasy  and  not  at  all  desirable  in  their 
present  condition,  dressed  entirely  in  skins, 
and  owning  few  civilized 
implements.  Some  were  on 
summer  hunting  trips  from 
as  far  as  the  Diomede 
Islands  and  the  opposite 
Siberian  shore.  We  have 
made  some  fine  trades  with 
them.  Rivers,  one  of  the 
boys,  got  a  good  skin  kyak 
for  a  pair  of  overalls,  a 
match  safe  and  a  few  other 
trinkets.  I  got  some  nice 
seal  (not  the  fur  seal)  skins 
for  an  outing  shirt,  and 
about  one  hundred  yards  of 
strong  raw-hide  rope,  for 
soiled  socks,  undershirts, 
etc. 

It  is  a  good  opportunity 
for  obtaining  spears,  toys, 
implements,  and  clothing  of  Indian  manu- 
facture, etc.,  if  only  I  could  spare  the  stuff 
to  trade.  With  all  the  hundreds  of  people 
coming  to  the  coast  this  year,  the  trade  will 


Educated  Natives. 

be  spoiled   by  next  year,  or  I   would  send 
home  for  a  box  of  articles  for  trade. 

These  natives  really  require  very  little 
outside  of  their  own  resources,  so  it  is  hard 
to  tell  what  articles  would  be  likely  to  strike 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


13 


their  fancy.  Lead,  powder,  tobacco,  calico 
and  clothes  would  be  the  best  things. 

The  prince  or  chief  of  this  tribe  of  In- 
dians was  an  intelligent  young  man  about 
twenty-five  years  old.  He  could  not  speak 
our  language,  but,  strange  to  say,  his  wife, 
who  accompanied  him,  was  educated  and 
refined.  She  had  received  some  schooling  at 
Tort  Clarence.  It  was  she  who  interpreted 
for  all  of  us  during  our  trading  hours. 

The  natives  came  in  families,  and  the  chil- 
dren were  not  uninteresting.  Not  a  baby 
was  heard  to  cry,  although  in  the  canoe  for 
hours  at  a  time,  nor  would  they  try  to  move. 
These  canoes  or  kyaks  are  very  strange 
boats,  and  prove  quite  treacherous  to  the 
novice.  It  looks  easy  rowing  in  one  of 
them.  I  had  learned  the  trick  during  my 
hunting  about  Sitka  two  years  ago.  and 
could  not  be  induced  to  try  my  hand  in  a 
hurry.  Not  so  Casey,  who  went  out  by  him- 
self in  Rivers'  new  kyak.  He  started  out  all 
right,  shouting  that  it  was  like  riding  a 
bicycle,  "  very  hard  to  keep  balanced  in." 
He  was  getting  along  finely,  keeping  near 
the  vessel,  when  he  grew  over-conn"  lent,  and 
a  misstroke  with  the  paddle  set  him  out  of 
balance,  and  boat  and  poor  Casey  went  roll- 
ing over  together  in  the  water.  He  struggled 
and  kept  to  the  surface  long  enough  for  a 
rope  to  be  thrown  out  to  him,  but  he  could 
not  get  his  legs  out  of  the  hole  in  the  kyak 
for  several  seconds.  Seconds  are  hours  in 
this  blistering  ice-water,  and  had  he  been 
further  from  home  he  could  not  have  sur- 
vived the  chill. 

No  one  has  tried  kyaking  since,  but  as  soon 
as  we  reach  shallow  water  I  mean  to  prac- 
tice until  I  have  revived  the  lost  art. 

We  are  now  inside  the  Arctic  Circle,  about 
07  degrees  north  latitude.  That  is  pretty 
well  north  for  Southern  Californians  who, 
at  home,  rub  their  ears  when  the  frost  nips 
the  tomato  plants  in  January. 


CHAPTER  III. 

GAPE  BLOSSOM,  July  13,  1898.— The 
voyage  is  behind  us.  What  is  floating 
ice  to  a  ship's  crew  safe  on  shore!  We 
can  laugh  at  whales,  and  unfriendly  breezes 
that  whisper  tales  of  shipwreck  on  barren 
coasts.  And  we  can  walk  at  all  hours  of  the 
day  and  night  without  holding  on  to  the  rail, 
an.1  we  don't  have  to  cook  breakfast  and 
srpper  and  dinner  in  an  8  x  8  galley.  Oh. 
the  charm  of  being  on  land  again,  a  land 
without  visible  limit;  a  land  where  we  are 


not  crowded,  and  where  we  are  not  hindered 
from  our  work  by  newspaper  reporters! 

I  am  sitting  at  the  camp-table  in  the  diu- 
ing-tent  near  the  new  "  Penelope "  ship- 
yards, and  the  sounds  that  greet  my  ears 
are  varied.  The  incessant  pounding  gives 
evidence  of  vigorous  work  on  our  river  boat; 
the  hum  of  the  forge  and  the  ring  of  the 
anvil  where  Casey  and  Stevenson  are  mak- 
ing fittings  for  the  engine,  the  wash  of  the 
surf  close  at  hand,  and  last,  but  not  least, 
the  low,  irritating,  depressing,  measly  whine 
of  the  mosquito  —  this  last  word  to  mean  the 
race.  I  would  not  intimate  that  there  is  one 
mosquito,  or  twenty;  there  are  millions!  We 
wear  bobinet  masks  which  protect  our  heads 
very  well.  To-night  the  wind  is  blowing 
fresh,  and  the  winged  plagues  are  using 
most  of  their  force  to  keep  their  land  legs. 
It  is  very  warm,  and  a  little  exertion  brings 
out  a  copious  perspiration,  but  it  is  less 
fatiguing  to  keep  hard  at  work  with  a  will 
than  to  stop  and  think  about  it.  No  ice  now 
in  sight.  Within  two  rods  of  camp  is  a  deep 
snowdrift,  where  we  obtain  nice  drinking 
water.  Ice  may  be  seen  anywhere  in  Alaska 
all  the  hot  days,  but  it  is  so  mixed  and 
grown  in  with  the  everlasting  mosses  that  it 
is  not  fit  to  melt  for  drinking  save  in  rare 
cases.  Our  ship-yards  are  located  on  the 
pebbly  beach,  and  it  all  seems  so  roomy  and 
clean  after  our  long  stay  on  the  little 
"  Penelope,"  though  on  account  of  the  mos- 
quitoes we  still  sleep  on  shipboard.  The 
boat  is  anchored  a  mile  from  shore  on  ac- 
count of  the  shallow  water.  As  I  look  out  to 
sea  I  bethink  me  that  in  all  probability 
Ivotzebue,  the  Russian  explorer,  stood  on 
this  exact  spot  and  looked  about  him  as  long 
ago  as  July,  181G.  And  the  mosquitoes  were 
biting  him,  too! 

I  can  afford  to  sleep  only  every  other  night 
these  days.  There  will  be  time  enough  to 
sleep  when  the  sun  goes  to  bed.  The  land- 
scape is  beautiful — grassy  meadows,  green, 
bushy  hillsides,  and,  over  all,  thousands  of 
wild-flowers  of  a  dozen  kinds;  dandelions, 
daisies,  sweet-peas,  and  many  other  vari- 
eties. I  have  found  a  few  beetles  and  have 
seen  some  butterflies,  but  get  little  time  for 
collecting  either  insects  or  birds.  My  duty 
is  to  the  company,  and  any  time  in  which  I 
may  do  what  I  love  best  to  do  must  be 
taken  out  of  my  sleeping  hours.  Everyone 
is  working  with  might  and  main,  as  the  mis- 
sionaries tell  us  that  winter  sets  in  by  the 
last  of  August. 

By  the  way,  we  surprised  these  mission- 
aries, who  nave  been  located  at  Cape  Bios- 


14 


GOLD    HUNTING 


ALASKA. 


som  some  two  years  or  more,  and  in  that 
time  have  seen  few  fellow-countrymen.  C. 
C.  Reynolds  and  Clyde  and  Dr.  Coffin  were 
old  acquaintances,  and  waked  them  up  one 
day  all  of  a  sudden.  The  three  were  told  by 
the  natives  of  the  best  way  to  approach  the 
mission  building,  and,  as  they  did  so,  the 
first  thing  that  met  their  eyes  were  little 
boxes  of  lettuce  and  radishes  and  onions  set 
on  the  sunny  side  of  the  cabin  to  steal  the 
brealh  and  smile  of  Old  Sol,  while  he  has  his 
eye  on  the  place.  This  is  a  Friends'  Mission, 
and  the  three  missionaries  are  from  Whit- 
tier,  California. 

They  are  Robert  Samms  and  'wife,  and  a 
Miss  Hunnicut. 

The  boys  are  working  on  the  river  boat  in 


First  "Friends"'  Mission. 

two  shifts  from  twelve  to  twelve.  This 
makes  time  for  four  meals  a  day,  the  largest 
meals  being  at  the  two  twelves,  and  I  have 
one  of  these  to  get.  I  also  have  the  6  p.  in. 
and  the  midnight  meals  to  get;  Shafer  gets 
the  others.  Of  course  we  have  our  assist- 
ants who  wait  on  table  and  wash  Wishes. 
Who  would  have  thought  I  would  become  a 
mess  cook! 

I  have  just  dressed  three  salmon  weighing 
about  fifteen  pounds  each.  We  traded  ten 
gingersnaps  to  an  Indian  for  them.  They 
will  make  fully  two  meals  for  all  of  us. 

July  16,  2  p.  m.  In  the  dining-tent  at 
"  Penelope "  ship-yards.— Yesterday  was  a 
great  day  for  us.  WTe  received  our  first  mail 
from  home.  The  revenue  cutter  "  Bear " 
brought  it,  and  it  will  probably  be  our  last. 
It  is  sweltering  hot.  We  find  our  most  con- 
genial employment  in  drinking  ice-water  and 
taking  cold  baths.  And  no  one  suffers  from 
it.  The  river  boat  is  nearly  done  and  we 
have  been  here  only  a  week.  To-day  our 


first  prospecting  party  starts  out,  one  of 
two,  to  go  up  the  Kowak  River  in  advance 
of  the  main  party.  They  are  taking  a 
month's  provisions,  and,  besides  prospecting 
for  gold,  are  to  locate  our  winter  quarters. 
We  hope  to  make  two  trips  with  supplies  up 
the  river  before  it  freezes.  There  are  so 
many  vessels  of  every  description  here  that 
it  looks  like  a  seaport  harbor.  The  natives 
are  "  catching  on  "  to  trading  schemes,  and 
are  asking  exorbitant  prices  for  everything. 
WTe  offered  sixty  dollars  worth  of  flour  and 
other  things  for  a  canoe  and  failed  to  get 
one.  I  doubt  the  things  being  of  much  use 
to  us  if  \ve  had  them.  The  skins  soak  up 
water  rapidly  and  are  then  easily  torn  or 
worn.  The  Indians  keep  them  in  water 
only  a  few  hours  at  a  time  before 
taking  them  up  on  the  beach  and 
turning  them  over  to  dry. 

Shafer  went  with  our  first 
party  as  cook,  and  that  leaves  me 
with  seventeen  men  to  feed.  I 
want  to  get  in  some  collecting  this 
fall  and  am  willing  to  work  hard 
now.  Of.  course  everyone  of  the 
party  is  industrious;  we  expected 
to  work.  The  mosquitoes  do  not 
like  me  and  so  I  have  the  advan- 
tage of  the  others.  I  keep  a 
smudge  burning  in  the  tents  so 
the  boys  may  eat  in  peace. 

Penelope  Ship  Yards,  July  17.— 
Oh,  how  hot  it  is  to-day!  And  the 
mosquitoes  are  rushing  business,  as  if  aware 
time  is  nearly  up  with  them.  I  slept  on  shore 
last  night.  We  had  a  small  tent  and  banked 
it  up  all  around  tight,  and  then  made  a 
smudge  and  shut  ourselves  in.  We  killed  all 
the  mosquitoes  in  sight  and  finally  got  to  bed 
for  a  good  seven  hours'  sleep.  There  is  plenty 
of  driftwood  along  the  beaches,  and  we  shall 
not  be  obliged  to  draw  on  our  supply  of  coal 
for  a  good  while.  Several  tons  of  it  is  com- 
ing on  the  "  Mermaid."  The  vessel  has  not 
yet  arrived,  neither  have  several  others 
whose  crews  warned  us  before  we  left  San 
Francisco  last  spring  that  we  would  not 
reach  Kotzebue  this  year.  And  here  we  are 
a  week  ahead  of  them,  and  one  party  pros- 
pecting up  the  river  already. 

July  19.— This  morning  the  "  Helen,"  as 
we  have  named  our  river  boat,  was  towed 
out  to  the  "  Penelope,"  where  the  boiler  and 
engines  were  hoisted  on.  She  is  back  again 
now,  and  all  is  well  save  Rivers,  who  had 
his  fingers  smashed. 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


15 


There  must  be  a  thousand  people  now  in 
the  Sound,  and  more  are  coming.  These 
first-comers  are  respectable  men,  with  few 
exceptions.  A  drunken  white  man  shot  an 
Indian  up  near  the  mission,  and  now  there 
will  be  trouble.  The  Indian  law  dates  far 
back  —  "  An  eye  for  an  eye."  A  good  many 
accidents  are  happening.  Some  men  are  lost, 
and  so  are  whole  loads  of  provisions.  We 
are  safe:  have  lost  nothing.  Birds  are  nu- 
merous now.  I  went  up  the  slough  last  night 
and  got  three  ducks.  This  noon  I  served  up 
a  hot -duck  pie.  This  is 
the  summer  home  for 
many  birds  that  spend 
their  winters  south. 
Every  morning  I  hear 
the  plaintive  song  of 
the  Ganibel's  sparrows 
from  the  bushy  thickets 
on  the  hillsides,  just  as 
we  hear  them  from  the 
hedges  at  home  in  win- 
ter. Other  familiar 
birds  now  rearing  their 
broods  here  are  the 
barn  swallow,  Savan- 
nah sparrow  and  tree 
sparrow.  Insects  are 
common  as  the  warm 
weather  continues.  I 
caught  a  bumblebee 
this  morning  and  bot- 
tled him.  As  fast  as 
the  snowdrifts  melt, 
grass  and  flowers 
spring  up,  crowding  the 

snow,  so  to  speak,  into  more  and  more  lim- 
ited quarters,  and  finally  replacing  it  alto- 
gether. The  brightest  and  greenest  spots 
are  where  the  snow  has  the  most  recently 
disappeared.  This  is  a  beautiful  country. 
Some  day  when  the  speedy  airship  shall 
make  distance  trivial,  it  will  be  a  popular 
summer  resort,  except  that  the  water  is  too 
icy  for  the  average  bather. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

JULY    23,    Penelope    Ship    Yards.  —  The 
"  Helen  "  is  at  last  ready.    Three  of  the 
boys  have  cut  up  several  cords  of  wood 
into  proper  lengths  for  the  boiler. 

I  cannot  help  mentioning  the  flowers 
again.  New  kinds  appear  er.ch  day  without 
so  much  as  sending  up  a  leaf  in  advance. 
There  are  dandelions,  and  purple  asters,  and 
cream  cups,  and  bluebells,  and  big  daisies, 


and  buttercups,  and  tall,  blue  flowers  like 
our  garden  hyacinths.  There  are  acres  of 
blue-grass  as  smooth  and  green  as  if  newly 
mown.  Birds  and  bumblebees  are  abun- 
ant.  I  should  like  to  collect  more  of  these, 
but  still  have  a  hungry  mob  to  feed.  The 
boys  are  working  hard  at  shifting  the  cargo, 
and  chopping  wood  and  doing  other  things, 
and  of  course  are  hungry  as  bears.  My 
work  gives  me  some  half-hours  which  I 
spend  collecting.  We  have  good  stores.  For 
supper  to-night  my  menu  is  baked  navy 


Miners'  Launch. 

beans — Boston  baked  beans  away  up  here  at 
Kotzebue  Sound!— corn  bread,  apple  sauce, 
fricasseed  salmon  eggs,  fried  salmon,  duck 
stew,  tea,  etc.  It  will  be  appreciated  to  the 
last  crumb  by  the  Arctic  circle. 

The  days  are  growing  shorter.  The  sun 
now  sets  before  eleven*  at  night,  leaving  only 
a  short  semi-twilight.  The  doctor  has  just 
come  in  from  a  visit  to  the  mission.  He  re- 
ports ships  still  arriving,  and  prospectors 
having  all  sorts  of  luck.  Flour  is  three  dol- 
lars for  fifty  pounds.  Liquor  is  being  sold 
to  the  natives  without  stint.  It  is  against 
the  law,  but  what  is  law  without  a  force  to 
back  it?  Dr.  Sheldon  Jackson  is  expected 
soon,  and  he  is  the  man  who  will  not  be 
afraid  to  hunt  out  the  rascals  who  are 
spoiling  the  natives.  I  am  so  nearly  related 
to  the  American  Indians  myself  that  I  nat- 
urally take  sides  with  these  natives.  You 
know  I  was  born  on  the  Kiowa.  Cornanche 
and  Wichita  reservation,  when  those  Indians 


16 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


were  savages  or  nearly  so,  and  I  learned  to 
love  them  before  I  could  speak.  Here  and 
now  it  is  the  old  familiar  story  of  the  white 
man's  abuse  of  the  redskins.  It  makes  me 
indignant.  We  found  these  people  confiding, 
generous,  helpful,  simple-hearted,  without  a 
shadow  of  treachery  except  as  they  have 
learned  it  from  the  whites,  who  are  invad- 
ing their  homes  and  killing  them  as  they 
will,  with  little  or  no  excuse.  Many  of  these 
gold-hunters  that  I  hear  of  have  already 
done  more  harm  in  a  few  days  than  the  mis- 
sionaries can  make  up  for  in  years.  I  could 
write  the  history  in  detail,  but  desist.  It 
will  never  all  be  written  or  told.  The  natives 
are  worked  up  to  the  last  point  of  endur- 
ance and  will  surely  kill  the  whites.  Whisky 


The  "Helen." 

is  doing  its  share  of  havoc,  although  a  few 
of  the  faithful  mission  Indians  are  trying  to 
keep  the  others  quiet. 

Sunday,  July  24.— We  are  now  waiting  for 
the  tide  to  take  the  "Helen"  out  of  the 
creek.  Steam  will  soon  be  up. 

July  29,  Dining  Tent.— We  are  still  here 
and  the  rains  have  begun.  The  "  Helen " 
made  her  trial  trip  and  works  well.  We 
have  discovered  that  she  cannot  transport 
all  our  goods  up  the  river,  so  have  delayed 
in  order  to  build  a  barge.  It  is  two  feet 
deep,  ten  feet  wide  and  eighteen  feet  long, 
with  a  capacity  of  ten  tons. 

August  1.— The  storm  washed  the  sand  up 
and  locked  the  "  Helen "  into  Penelope  in- 
let. The  only  thing  to  be  done  was  to  dig 
a  channel  and  float  her  out.  From  ten  in 
the  morning  until  ten  in  the  evening  we 
worked.  We  had  to  pry  her  out  as  the  tide 
kept  falling.  We  could  not  have  succeeded 
had  it  not  been  for  some  kind  Indians  who 
helped  us.  They  are  always  ready  to  help 
when  they  see  us  in  trouble.  Of  course  we 
treated  them  to  a  good  supper  and  they  were 
happy. 


After  steaming  out  to  the  "  Penelope,"  we 
started  north  around  the  peninsula  to  the 
inlet,  arriving  about  two  in  the  morning, 
after  the  hardest  day's  work  we  have  had 
yet.  Here  at  Mission  Inlet  Dr.  Coffin, 
Fancher  and  myself  are  left  with  the  camp 
outfit  and  a  load  of  provisions.  After  three 
hours'  sleep  and  a  hot  breakfast  the  rest 
went  back  to  the  schooner  with  the 
"  Helen  "  for  another  load,  and  to  bring  the 
barge,  which  by  this  time  should  be  finished. 
Soon  after  they  left,  yesterday,  a  stiff  breeze 
sprang  up  and  we  were  very  anxious.  The 
"  Helen  "  is  little  better  than  a  flat-bottomed 
scow  and  cannot  stand  much  of  a  sea.  An 
inlet  near  us  is,  we  think,  deep  enough  to 
float  the  "  Penelope,"  if  we  could  get  her  in, 
and  here  she  would  be  safe  all  winter.  The 
missionaries  tell  us  that  no  boat  like  her 
can  stand  the  crushing  ice  in  the  open  sea 
during  the  winter,  and  that  this  inlet  is  the 
only  protected  place  for  miles  around. 

The  mission  and  village  are  two  miles  west 
of  us.  There  are  four  frame  houses  and  a 
hundred  tents.  A  Mr.  Haines  of  San  Fran- 
cisco, took  supper  with  us  last  night  and 
gave  us  the  shipping  news.  Men  are  left 
with  nothing  save  the  clothes  on  their  backs; 
others  are  drowned;  many  are  homesick. 
Rumor  reaches  us  that  gold  has  been  found 
on  the  Kowak.  But  rumor  is  not  to  be  re- 
lied upon  when  it  is  gold  that  sets  it  afloat. 

If  there  is  gold  on  the  Kowak  we  shall 
find  it.  Our  present  care  is  to  get  our  sup- 
plies up  there  in  safety,  but  we  are  going 
at  a  slow  pace.  Six  of  our  party  are  already 
up  the  river,  six  are  on  the  "  Helen "  en 
route  to  the  "  Penelope  "  headquarters,  two 
are  at  the  ship-yards,  and  four  are  on  the 
schooner.  Dr.  Coffin,  Fancher  and  myself 
are  here  at  Mission  Inlet.  This  accounts  for 
all  of  us  as  at  present  divided.  We  expect 
the  return  of  the  "  Helen  "  to-night. 

We  three  have  been  living  high  since  the 
others  left.  For  supper,  with  the  help  of  our 
San  Francisco  visitor,  we  got  away  with 
three  ptarmigan,  two  curlew,  twelve  flap- 
jacks with  sjrrup,  stewed  prunes,  etc.  After 
supper  we  went  to  sleep  and  did  not  awake 
until  nine  this  morning,  when  we  had  ptar- 
migan broth,  fried  mush,  ham  and  flapjacks. 
The  other  day  we  picked  three  quarts  of 
salmon  berries.  They  are  very  fine  eating, 
something  like  a  blackberry  in  size  and 
shape,  but  are  red  like  a  raspberry  and  grow 
flat  on  the  ground  like  a  strawberry  vine. 
They  seem  a  combination  of  the  three. 

Two  other  kinds,  inferior  to  the  salmon 
berries,  also  grow  on  the  ground.  We  want 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


17 


to  eat  everything  in  sight.  If  there  were 
rattlesnakes  I  believe  that  I  should  cook 
them.  I  have  broiled  a  good  fat  rattlesnake 
when  hunting  in  the  Sierras,  and  found  it  a 
dish  for  an  epicure  —  that  is,  if  the  epicure 
happened  not  to  see  it  until  served.  I  put 
up  nine  bird-skins  this  morning.  They  are 
two  redpolls,  one  Siberian  yellow  wagtail, 
three  ptarmigan,  one  tree-sparrow  and  two 
curlew.  I  have  put  up  seventy-five  skins  so 
far.  I  have  also  saved  quite  a  number  of 
insects,  but  these  are  scarce  since  the  rains 
set  in.  Last  night  I  heard  the  beautiful  song 
of  the  fox-sparrow  from  a  hill  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  inlet.  A  raven,  the 
first  I  have  seen,  flew  high  overhead 
with  ominous  croaks.  "  Evil  omen," 
say  the  natives. 

Mission  Inlet,  Aug.  5,  1898.— The 
"  Helen  "  has  returned  after  a  peril- 
ous trip.  She  had  the  barge  in  tow 
and  both  were  heavily  loaded.  It 
took  ten  hours  to  cover  twelve  miles, 
so  rough  was  the  sea.  She  ran 
aground  twice,  and  the  boys  were  in- 
deed "  tired "  on  their  arrival,  but 
were  wonderfully  refreshed  in  a 
short  time  by  flapjacks  and  bacon, 
which  I  served  to  them  piping  hot, 
after  which  they  slept  for  eight 
hours.  It  has  taken  a  good  deal  of 
hard  work  to  get  ready  to  make  our 
start,  and  a  good  storm  is  in  order. 
"  Indian  Tom "  is  guide,  and  he 
knows  everything  about  the  river  and 
country.  He  says,  "Wind  too  much; 
bimeby  all  right,"  and  we  take  his  advice. 
The  "  Helen  "  and  the  barge  in  tow  are  to 
carry  two-thirds  of  the  year's  supplies  up 
the  river,  and  the  "  Helen "  will  alone  re- 
turn for  the  rest.  We  cannot  get  the  "  Pen- 
elope "  into  Mission  Inlet,  as  we  hoped, 
hence  it  has  been  decided  to  leave  the  cap- 
tain and  two  men  with  her  all  winter.  The 
provisions  not  needed  this  winter  are  stored 
on  the  schooner,  and  she  will  be  anchored 
down  in  Escholtz  Bay,  in  as  sheltered  a 
place  as  can  be  found,  where  she  will  freeze 
in.  It  looks  dangerous,  but  it  is  our  only 
alternative.  It  would  not  take  much  ice 
pressure  to  crush  her,  and  then  good-by  to 
our  provisions!  They  will  try  lifting  her  by 
windlass  and  other  means,  and  the  captain 
shows  his  pluck  in  the  emergency.  Pluck  is 
what  is  needed  in  these  Arctic  regions,  be- 
sides plenty  of  flapjacks.  Jett  and  Pancher 
remain  with  the  captain  on  the  "  Penelope." 
They  hope  to  shoot  polar  bear  and  have 


other  winter  sport,  but  I  guess  they  will 
have  a  monotonous  time.  Perhaps  some  of 
us  will  take  a  sledge  journey  down  to  them 
in  winter. 

Dr.  Coffin,  Wyse,  Rivers  and  myself  are  to 
stay  here  until  the  "  Helen  "  returns  for  us 
and  the  remainder  of  the  stuff.  I  always 
volunteer  to  stay  at  camp  when  a  person  is 
wanted,  for  in  this  way  I  get  in  some  collect- 
ing. The  rest  don't  see  so  much  fun  in  stay- 
ing at  camp.  It  may  be  two  weeks  before 
the  boat  gets  back  and,  outside  of  my  camp 
duties,  I  shall  have  considerable  leisure  for 
my  favorite  pastime.  Doctor  and  I  went 


Helen  "  and  Crew  Start  up  the  Kowak  River. 

out  and  got  thirteen  ducks,  which  made  a 
good  meal  for  the  crowd  before  they  started. 
We  also  had  a  large  mess  of  stewed  salmon 
berries  which,  though  very  tart,  proved  a 
most  acceptable  change  from  our  dried  fruit. 

Mission  Inlet,  Aug.  9.— The  "  Helen  "  left 
for  the  Kowak  yesterday  and  the  weather 
has  been  perfect,  so  we  hope  she  has  safely 
crossed  Holtham  Inlet.  Until  she  returns 
we  four  are  to  keep  camp  and  finish  up  some 
work  for  the  winter.  We  are  becoming  ac- 
quainted with  the  natives.  Like  those  I 
knew  in  Dakota  and  the  Indian  Territory, 
they  are  very  superstitious.  They  make  us 
pass  in  front  of  a  tent  in  which  is  a  sick 
person,  and  if  we  are  towing  a  boat  past 
along  the  beach,  we  must  get  into  the  water 
and  row  around  the  camp  so  as  not  to  walk 
past.  Many  of  them  are  ill,  and  they  lay  it 
to  the  gold  hunters;  but  it  is  really  from  ex- 
posure in  following  the  whites  around.  The 


18 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN   ALASKA. 


doctor  has  treated  several,  and  if  they  re- 
cover he  is  "all  right;"  but  if  they  die,  it  is 
his  fault.  Not  so  very  unlike  other  folks! 
The  doctor  makes  the  natives  pay  for  medi- 
cine, as  this,  he  says,  "  is  the  better  policy." 
He  charged  a  salmon  for  some  pills  last 
night,  and  in  another  case  where  more  ex- 
tended services  were  required,  he  charged  a 
nickel  and  two  salmon.  He  does  not  intend 
to  infringe  upon  any  existing  fee  bills  in  the 
States,  but  if  any  "  medicos "  thereabouts 
pine  for  a  more  profitable  field,  there  is 
plenty  of  room  at  Kotzebue  Sound. 

Some  of  the  prospectors  who  went  up  the 
river  earlier  are  now  returning  broken- 
hearted, and  are  going  home. 

Mission  Inlet,  Aug.  11.— The  "Helen" 
came  in  last  night  with  all  safe  aboard. 
They  got  about  one  hundred  miles  up  the 
river,  and  concluded  it  better  to  get  us  all 
up  that  far  before  going  on.  We  expect  to 
start  to-night.  Our  folks  met  two  of  our 
first  prospecting  party,  who  reported  going 
as  far  as  Fort  Cosmos,  three  hundred  miles 
up  the  Kowak,  and  who  announced  that 
place  to  be  our  best  winter  harbor.  They 
had  found  some  "  colors,"  but  nothing 
definite  as  to  gold. 

This  will  prove  my  last  entry  on  the  Kot- 
zebue,  but  the  winter's  record  will  not  be 
dull,  I  am  thinking,  by  the  time  we  thaw  out 
in  the  spring  of  1899.  C.  C.  and  the  doctor, 
whose  proclivities  are  well  known  to  be  of  a 
semi-religious  type,  have  a  whole  library  of 
good  books,  such  as  "  Helpful  Thoughts," 
"The  Greatest  Thing  in  the  World,"  Bible 
commentaries,  and  so  on,  with  which  we 
may  enliven  the  winter  evening  that  knows 
no  cock-crowing.  However,  we  shall  have 
games  and  lighter  reading. 

I  have  now  more  than  one  hundred  bird- 
skins,  some  of  them  rare,  such  as  Sabines' 
gull,  Point  Barrow  gull,  etc.  I  believe  I  am 
the  only  one  of  the  party  who  could  get  the 
smallest  satisfaction  out  of  a  possible  disap- 
pointment as  to  gold. 


CHAPTER  V. 

T>ENELOPE  CAMP,  Kowak  River,  Aug. 
J^  28. — Here  we  are,  one  hundred  and  sev- 
enty miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  Ko- 
wak River  and  hard  at  work  on  our  winter 
cabin.  The  "  Helen "  is  almost  a  failure, 
else  we  should  have  been  much  farther  up 
the  river.  The  river  is  swift  and  has  many 
rapids  which  we  could  not  stem.  The  boat 


is  slow.  Her  wheel  is  too  small.  She  will 
be  remodeled  this  winter.  It  took  five  days 
to  come  this  far,  and,  as  there  are  two  more 
loads  to  bring  up,  we  thought  it  best  to  halt. 
We  have  been  here  a  week  and  the  walls  of 
the  cabin  are  nearly  done,  so  that  we  are  on 
the  eve  of  owning  a  winter  residence  on  the 
Kowak.  We  are  expecting  the  "  Helen " 
back  soon  with  her  second  load. 

The  Kowak  River,  though  scarcely  indi- 
cated on  good-sized  maps,  is  as  large  as  the 
Missouri.  At  our  camp  it  is  nearly  a  mile 
across,  and  very  deep  on  this  side,  with  sand 
bars  in  the  middle.  Other  folks  are  having 
a  harder  time  than  we.  Only  three  out  of 
the  dozen  or  more  river  steamers  are  a  suc- 
cess. One  is  fast  on  a  sand  bar,  and  it 
looks  as  if  she  would  stay  there. 

Some  of  our  crowd  think  we  had  a  hard 
time,  but  when  we  compare  our  lot  with 
that  of  others  we  see  it  differently.  Hun- 
dreds are  toiling  up  in  the  rain,  towing 
their  loaded  skiffs  mile  after  mile  along 
muddy  banks.  We  have  not  had  an  accident 
worth  mentioning  unless  it  be  the  loss  of  a 
water  pail.  We  took  the  wrong  channel 
once  coming  up  and  steamed  twenty-four 
hours  up  a  branch  river.  It  was  the  Squir- 
rel River,  and  although  but  a  tributary  to 
the  Kowak,  is  as  large  as  the  Sacramento 
and  San  Joaquin  combined.  It  was  so  very 
crooked  that  at  one  point  where  we  stopped 
to  wood  up,  I  climbed  a  hill  and  could  see 
its  route  for  several  miles.  Our  course  went 
around  the  compass  once  and  half  way 
again.  When  we  got  back  to  the  Kowak 
we  made  good  time  until  we  reached  the 
first  rapids,  where  our  trouble  began.  The 
"  Helen  "  would  swing  around  and  lose  all 
she  had  made  every  few  minutes  when  the 
current  struck  her  broadside.  Finally  a 
squad  of  us  took  to  the  river  bank  with  a 
long  tow-rope,  and  foot  by  foot  she  was 
towed  past  the  critical  points.  There  were 
six  of  these  rapids.  When  the  wind  blew 
there  was  fresh  trouble;  it  would  catch  on 
the  side  of  the  "  house  "  and  blow  the  bout 
around  in  spite  of  us.  She  almost  got  away 
from  us  once,  and  we  were  in  danger  of 
being  dragged  off  the  bank,  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  we  dug  our  heels  into  the  ground 
and  braced  with  might  and  main.  It  was  a 
tug  of  war.  And  such  is  gold  hunting  in  the 
Far  North! 

Many  others  had  a  still  harder  time.  We 
passed  thirty  of  these  parties  in  one  day 
towing  their  provisions,  while  many  lost 
their  J3oats.  There  must  inevitably  be  great 
suffering  here  this  winter.  Men  have  not 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


19 


realized  what  a  long  winter  it  will  be  and 
are  poorly  provisioned. 

Our    crowd    is    becoming    a    trifle    disap- 
pointed as  to  the  gold  proposition,   and  of 
course  the  gen- 
eral    discontent      

i  s       infectious. 

Hundreds     are 

going     back 

down   the   river 

every      day, 

spreading  defeat 

and     failure     in 

their   path,   and 

yet     they     have 

done    no    actual 

prospecti  n  g  . 

This   is   a   large 

country    and    a 

year  is  none  too 

long     to     hunt; 

but   with   many 

parties    the    re-  A  Morning  Hunt. 

suit  is  that  after 

panning  out  a  little  sand  the  job  is  thrown 

up. 

Birds  are  all  right  here,  if  there  isn't  any 
gold.    I  have  been  into  the  woods  only  twice 
so  far,  but  secured  another  rare  specimen  of 
Hennicott's    Willow    Warbler.      There   is   a 
bear  in  the  woods  back  of  camp. 
I    have    "  laid "    for    him    three 
times,  but  he  is  very  shy. 

Sept.  1.— The  "  Helen "  came 
with  her  last  load  yesterday, 
and  our  whole  crowd  is  together 
again  excepting  the  three  men 
with  the  "  Penelope." 

After  a  big  pow-wow  it  has 
been  decided  to  divide  for  the 
winter.  Ten  men  are  to  take  the 
"  Helen,"  with  supplies,  and 
push  up  the  river  as  far  as  pos- 
sible. They  think  they  can  do 
some  mining  during  the  winter. 
We  who  are  destined  to  live  to- 
gether here  for  eight  months  are 
Dr.  Coffin,  C.  C.  Reynolds.  Harry 
Reynolds,  Clyde  Baldwin,  Cox, 
Brown,  Rivers,  Wyse  and  myself.  Time  will 
prove  if  this  is  a  congenial  combination.  We 
shall  resemble  California  canned  goods  in 
our  narrow  limits,  and  the  winter  will  show 
our  "  keeping  qualities."  Andy  and  Albert, 
our  Swede  sailors,  leave  us  to-day.  They 
were  hired  and  do  not  belong  to  the  com- 
pany, and  will  return  to  Kotzebue,  where 
they  hope  to  ship  for  St.  Michaels. 


Camp  Penelope,  Kowak  River.  Sept.  13.— 
Our  cabin  is  done.  It  measures  25x30  feet. 
We  moved  in  on  the  7th.  The  river  rose  very 
high  and  threatened  to  inundate  our  tents. 
The  place  where  they  were  is  now  under 
water.  Our  cabin  roof  was  not  a  success. 
It  was  too  flat.  On  the  night  we  moved  in  it 
rained  heavily,  and  about  2  a.  m.  we  were 
roused  by  the  water  pouring  in  on  our  beds 
and  our  precious  supplies.  We  got  to  work 
without  delay.  The  roof  could  not  be  re- 
paired without  rebuilding  it,  so  we  spread  it 
all  over  with  flies  and  tent  cloth,  which  froze 
stiff  for  the  winter,  and  now  we  are  dry. 
When  the  cabin  was  started  it  was  intended 
for  our  whole  party,  but  there  is  no  room 
to  spare  even  now  with  only  nine  occupants. 
The  foundation  was  leveled  on  the  side  of 
the  knoll,  so  that  the  top  of  the  hill  is  nearly 
as  high  as  the  roof  and  the  earth  is  banked 
the  rest  of  the  way  over  the  wall.  That 
leaves  no  point  for  the  north  wind  to  strike 
the  house.  We  made  a  lean-to  on  the  west 
and  the  door  from  the  cabin  opens  into  it. 
We  have  two  windows,  which  we  brought 
with  us,  fitted  on  the  south.  The  interior  of 
the  cabin  is  a  single  room  seven  feet  high. 
It  has  a  gable  a  foot  or  two  higher,  which 
gives  "  ample  breathing  space,"  as  I  told  the 
boys,  but  which  I  have  my  eye  on  as  a  store- 


Our  Winter  Cabin. 

room  for  my  collection.  The  roof  above  this 
structure  is  fearfully  and  wonderfully 
made.  If  it  had  a  trifle  more  pitch  to  it,  to 
make  it  shed  water,  it  would  be  better.  A 
heavy  ridge-pole  and  stringers  run  length- 
wise, and  over  these  are  closely  laid  poles, 
the  butts  at  the  oaves  along  the  sides,  and 
the  slender  tops  bent  over  and  clinched  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  roof.  Above  the 


20 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


poles  is  packed  a  thick  layer  of  moss.  Above 
the  moss  is  a  layer  of  heavy  sod  with  the 
dirt  side  up.  Above  all  is  a  layer  of  spruce 
boughs  like  shingles.  These  boughs  grow 
thick  and  flat,  with  needles  pointing  the 
same  way,  so  they  make  good  roofing. 

The  logs  of  the  walls  are  chinked  tightly 
with  the  moss.  The  floor  is  the  natural 
sand.  We  did  not  cut  the  timber  from  near 
the  house  on  account  of  the  protection  it 
gives  us  from  the  north  winds.  Trees  large 
and  long  enough  for  building  purposes  are 
not  very  numerous,  and  we  had  to  carry 
them  a  good  ways.  A  few  are  as  large  as 
twenty  inches  at  the  butt,  but  mostly  they 
are  from  ten  to  fifteen  inches.  It  is  all  that 
eight  of  us  can  do  to  struggle  along  with 
one  of  these  logs,  they  are  so  heavy,  and  we 


Start  for  the  Hunt  River,  Towing  our  Boat. 

put  them  on  rollers  sometimes.  Four  of  the 
men  can  easily  carry  one  of  the  twenty-four 
foot  logs,  but  a  green  spruce  log  of  any  size 
is  always  heavier  than  it  looks. 

I  have  initiated  "  Brownie  "  into  the  secret 
mysteries  of  the  cook  stove,  and  am  one  of 
the  regular  laborers  now,  working  hard  ten 
hours  a  day.  But  yet  it  is  fun;  for  we  are 
working  for  ourselves,  with  but  the  clean 
woods  all  about  us,  and  there  is  a  fascina- 
tion in  chopping  up  the  spruces,  their  de- 
lightful fragrance  permeating  everywhere. 

Sept.  19.— Six  of  us  have  just  returned 
from  a  trip  up  the  Hunt  River  —  Harry  Rey- 
nolds, Wyse,  Cox,  Rivers,  Clyde  and  myself. 
I  was  culinary  officer  as  usual.  We  had 
the  eighteen-foot  sealing  boat,  and  it  was 
loaded  pretty  heavily.  The  whole  of  us  had 
to  work  for  it.  one  in  the  stern  of  the  boat 
to  steer,  one  wading  at  the  tow-line  as  near 
the  boat  as  possible,  to  lift  it  over  snags, 


and  the  other  four  tugging  at  the  tow-line. 
We  wore  hip  boots  and  outside  of  them  oil- 
skin trousers  tied  around  the  ankles.  Even 
with  this  outfit  we  were  constantly  getting 
into  the  water  all  over.  Rivers  got  a  soak- 
ing the  first  day.  He  shot  a  duck  and 
jumped  out  of  the  boat  in  pursuit.  The  bot- 
tom is  so  plain  through  the  water  that  it  is 
deceptive,  and  he  went  in  up  to  his  waist, 
but  he  grabbed  the  side  of  the  boat  to  keep 
from  going  under.  He  got  his  duck  —  and  a 
ducking  thrown  in.  We  had  to  pull  him  in 
and  to  the  shore,  where  we  got  him  out  of 
his  wet  clothes.  In  the  afternoon  Wyse  also 
got  a  ducking  by  falling  into  a  pool  as  he 
was  scrambling  up  a  steep  bank.  We  found 
good  camping-places.  We  had  two  tents, 
which  we  put  up  facing  each  other,  with  a 
flap  left  up  on  the  side  of  one  of  them  for  a 
door.  The  two  were  heated  by  the  sheet- 
iron  camp-stove.  At  noon  we  did  not  put  up 
the  tents,  but  got  dinner  in  the  open  —  flap- 
jacks, coffee  and  bacon.  I  shot  two  geese 
the  first  day  out,  which  gave  us  a  couple  of 
meals.  They  were  young  and  so  fat  I  could 
not  save  their  skins.  But  I  made  a  drawing 
of  one  of  them  so  that  I  could  be  positive  of 
their  identity.  Looking  them  up  when  I  got 
home  where  my  books  are,  I  found  them  to 
be  the  Hutch  ins  goose.  The  doctor  and  I 
shot  two  white-fronted  geese  on  the  banks 
of  the  Kowak.  We  see  a  good  many,  but 
they  also  see  us  and  we  have  to  do  a  good 
deal  of  sneaking  through  the  bushes  to  get 
any. 

We  had  some  narrow  escapes,  especially 
Cox,  who  fell  into  a  whirlpool.  He  was 
dragged  off  his  feet  by  the  rushing  water, 
but  we  pulled  him  into  the  boat  after  a 
frightful  struggle. 

On  the  fourth  day  out  Clyde  and  I  thought 
we  would  explore  a  little  canon.  Harry 
Reynolds  had  washed  out  several  pans  of 
sand  from  different  bars  on  the  way  up,  but 
had  not  found  a  trace  of  gold.  Clyde  and  I 
hoped  to  have  better  luck,  and  started  out  in 
high  spirits  with  spade  and  pick  and  gold- 
pan  to  do  our  first  prospecting. 

We  found  a  brook  in  the  canon  where  we 
panned  some  without  success.  Finally  we 
found  a  place  where  the  stream  ran  over 
bed-rock.  The  rock  had  cracks  and  fissures 
running  crosswise  with  the  stream,  so  w^e 
reasoned  that  if  there  was  gold  above,  par- 
ticles would  have  been  caught  in  these 
cracks.  We  dammed  the  brook  and  turned 
the  stream  to  one  side,  exposing  the  fissures 
in  the  rock.  We  then  gathered  several  pans 
of  sand  from  the  niches,  examining  it  with 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN   ALASKA. 


21 


wistful  eyes,  but  no  trace  of  gold  did  we 
find.  So  we  gave  it  up  on  that  stream.  We 
found  nothing  save  Fool's  Gold.  We  kept  on 
up  the  canon  and,  as  it  was  yet  early,  de- 
cided to  climb  the  mountain  peak.  As  we 
went  up  the  spruces  grew  smaller  and 
finally  disappeared.  The  sides  were  barren 
save  for  a  thin  covering  of  moss  and  lichens 
and  patches  of  stunted  huckleberry  bushes. 
These  bushes,  not  more  than  three  or  four 
inches  high,  bore  hordes  of  luscious  ripe 
huckleberries,  and  nearly  every  hundred 
feet  in  our  climb  we  would  drop  on  our 
knees  on  the  soft  moss  and  fill  ourselves,  so 
often  could  we  find  room  for  more.  Another 
little  black  spicy  berry  growing  in  crannies 
was  good.  Just  as  we  were  toiling  up  the 
last  slope  a  flock  of  twenty  white  ptarmigan 
flew  up  in  front  of  us,  and  circled  down  to 
another  ridge.  They,  too,  had  been  feeding 
on  the  huckleberries. 

As  we  rested  ourselves,  sheltered  in  a  niche 
of  the  summit  crag  safe  from  the  chilling 
wind,  a  little  red-backed  mouse  ran  from  a 
crevice  and  scampered  through  the  moss 
straight  to  a  huckleberry  patch,  his  own 
winter  garden.  Clouds  began  to  gather  on 
the  highest  peaks,  and  we  started  down,  leav- 
ing them  behind. 

The  moss  was  slippery  and  we  found  that 
we  could  slide  down  the  steep  pitches  easier 
than  we  could  walk  or  jump.  I  remembered 
seeing  the  little  Sioux  slide  down  the  hills 
of  Dakota  in  government  skillets,  and  im- 
mediately sat  down  on  my  shovel,  steering 
with  the  handle  just  as  I  had  seen  the  In- 
dian boys  do,  and  made  terrific  progress.  I 
was  soon  able  to  pick  myself  up.  feigning  to 
examine  a  ledge  of  quartz  while  I  rubbed 
my  posterior,  and  looked  back  for  Clyde. 

He  tried  sitting  in  the  gold-pan  and  started 
all  right,  but  soon  found  that  he  couldn't 
steer.  He  went  at  a  frightful  rate,  tearing 
down  the  steep  slide  backwards,  until  he, 
too,  found  himself  examining  the  geological 
strata  while  giving  some  attention  to  his 
anatomy.  And  then  we  had  to  hunt  for  the 
gold-pan  which,  from  the  musical  sounds 
which  grew  fainter  and  fainter  and  finally 
died  away  altogether,  must  have  got 
switched  off  into  the  bottomless  abyss.  Will 
it  be  found  some  day  generations  hence  and 
borne  off  in  triumph  as  proof  of  a  prehistoric 
race?  It  was  a  race.  Such  is  gold-hunting 
in  far-away  Alaska. 

At  camp  that  evening  we  were  joined  by 
a  native,  "  Charley,"  who  told  us  by  signs 
and  by  what  few  words  he  could  speak,  that 
he  had  come  part  way  up  the  Hunt  River 


behind  us,  but  had  left  his  birch-bark  canoe 
several  miles  below,  roaming  off  to  hunt  in 
the  neighboring  hills. 

He  told  us  that  he  had  shot  a  bear  the 
day  before  and  had  cached  it  down  the  river, 
his  boat  being  too  small  to  take  it.  He 
wanted  us  to  go  and  get  it.  Sure  enough,  a 
few  miles  down,  we  found  the  bear  as 
Charley  had  said.  It  was  all  cut  up,  the  skin 
being  stretched  on  poles  and  fastened  in  a 
tree.  The  carcass  was  also  divided  and  hid- 
den in  a  pole-box  raised  high  on  a  slender 
scaffold.  Charley  had  expected  to  come  on 
his  sled  later  on  and  take  it  home.  After  load- 
ing on  this  prize  we  continued  down  the 


We  Receive  Visitors. 

river,  the  Indian  accompanying  us  in  his 
canoe.  The  rapids  were  furious  and  many, 
and  we  shot  them  as  if  we  had  been  behind 
a  locomotive.  It  took  a  cool  head  to  steer  a 
boat  under  these  conditions,  and  Cox  did  it. 
At  one  place  the  stream  had  washed  under 
a  bank  above  and  trees  had  fallen  over, 
making  a  complete  set  of  rafters.  The  cur- 
rent rushed  the  boat  under  a  series  of  these, 
like  city  roofs,  and  it  kept  us  busy  to  duck 
our  heads. 

We  arrived  home  yesterday,  making  in 
seven  hours  a  distance  that  had  taken  us 
three  days  to  go  up.  Charley  gave  us  bear 
meat  to  last  a  month.  It  tastes  fishy,  as  the 
bears  live  mostly  on  salmon  in  summer,  but 
it  is  a  welcome  addition  to  our  larder.  Dur- 
ing the  trip  I  obtained  two  hawk  owls  and 
an  Alaskan  three-toed  woodpecker,  both 
species  being  new  to  my  collection. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

OCT.  15,  1898.— In  looking  over  my  diary 
I  find   that  I   have  recorded  no   "  bad 
weather."  This  comes  of  my  having  in- 
herited a  tendency  to  look  on  the  bright  side 


22 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN   ALASKA. 


of  things.  I  hear  such  complaints  as  "  bad 
weather,"  "  disagreeable  day,"  "  awfully 
cold,"  etc.  Days  when  some  are  grumbling 
about  its  being  "  too  hot "  or  "  too  cold," 
"  too  wet "  or  "  too  windy,"  I  find  some 
special  reason  for  thinking  it  very  pleasant. 
It  is  no  virtue  of  mine,  as  I  said.  It  is 
natural.  Up  till  to-day  there  has  been  warm 
weather  mostly.  Now  there  is  a  sudden 
drop  in  the  temperature.  Seven  degrees 
above  zero  this  morning.  The  north  wind 
is  blowing  and  makes  one's  ears  tingle.  All 
standing  water  is  frozen  and  the  Kowak  has 
begun  to  show  patches  of  ice  floating  down 
with  the  current.  The  great  river  is  chok- 
ing. It  is  being  filled  with  ice  which  can 
move  but  slowly,  grinding  and  crunching 
and  piling  up  into  ridges  where  opposing 
fields  meet.  Suddenly  it  is  at  a  standstill. 
In  a  day  or  two  the 
ice  will  support  us, 
as  it  does  now  on 
the  margin. 

So  quickly  does 
the  cold  of  winter 
close  its  grip.  All 
these  achievements 
of  nature  are  new 
and  interesting  to 
me.  I  ran  down  to 
the  river  bank  a 
dozen  times  to-day 
to  note  how  the  process  is  going  on.  It  is  very 
low  now  on  account  of  the  dry  weather  of 
the  past  weeks,  but,  as  the  choking  goes  on, 
a  flow  of  water  comes  down  from  above 
over  the  ice,  making  a  double  fastness.  The 
only  fish  that  can  survive  will  be  those  that 
seek  the  deeper  places.  There  will  be  no 
more  passing  of  boats.  We  hoar  that  the 
steamer  "  John  Riley "  has  been  left  high 
and  dry  on  a  sand-bar,  and  has  broken  in 
two  in  the  middle  by  her  own  weight.  Two 
other  boats  are  aground  on  sand-bars,  and 
must  be  taken  to  pieces  if  ever  rescued. 

Since  the  Hunt  River  trip  I  have  been  at 
home  mostly.  I  have  been  cook,  of  course, 
a  part  of  the  time.  There  is  no  special  work 
to  be  done  outside. 

I  have  collected  some  birds,  but  they  are 
growing  very  scarce.  I  went  into  the  woods 
to-day  for  a  couple  of  hours,  and  saw  only 
two  redpolls. 

Redpolls  look  and  act  very  much  like  our 
goldfinches  in  the  States.  Rivers  made  me  a 
bird-table.  It  is  strange,  but  everybody  de- 
clared they  would  "  tire  "  me  bodily  if  I  con- 
tinued to  skin  birds  on  the  dining-table;  that 
is  why  Rivers  took  pity  on  me  and  made  me 


The  Wreck  of  the  "John 
Riley." 


the  finest  table  I  could  wish  for,  and  a  chair 
to  match. 

We  have  the  saw-mill.  Dr.  CofBn  and 
Harry  Cox,  with  the  aid  of  others,  ran  that 
for  several  days,  and  enough  boards  were 
ripped  out  to  cover  the  cabin  floor,  besides 
library  and  cupboard  shelves.  They  declare 
"  whipping "  is  hard  work.  I  didn't  try  it 
myself,  as  I  was  cooking  at  the  time.  I  pre- 
fer to  run  a  cross-cut  saw.  The  saw-mill 
worked  "relays,"  working,  five  minutes, 
talking  fifteen  minutes,  resting  a  half  hour 
before  the  next  took  its  place.  Whip-sawing 
is  an  interesting  process,  especially  to  the 
man  who  stands  below  and  looks  up  into  the 
shower  of  sawdust.  The  doctor  advised  the 
plan  of  wearing  snow-glasses,  so  that  the 
sawdust  difficulty  was  obviated,  but  the 
hard  work  was  still  there.  The  doctor  tried 
his  best  1o  get  me  into  the  business,  for  he 
said  it  would  surely  tend  to  straighten  my 
back,  which  stoops  from  constant  skinning 
of  birds  at  the  table.  He  got  such  a  "  crick  " 
in  his  back  from  whip-sawing  that  he  could 
scarcely  sleep  for  several  nights. 

Besides  the  saw-mill,  there  was  the  fur- 
niture factory.  C.  C.  and  Harry  Reynolds 
and  Dr.  Coffin  were  engaged  in  that  enter- 
prise. As  a  result  the  cabin  is  supplied  with 
double  bedsteads,  with  spring-pole  slats  and 
mattresses.  And  there  are  lines  of  wooden 
pegs  in  the  wall  for  hanging  clothing,  and 
carpets  for  the  bed-rooms  made  of  gimuy- 
sackiug  stuffed  with  dry  moss. 

A  partial  partition  rims  lengthwise  of  the 
cabin.  At  the  kitchen  end  this  partition  is 
composed  of  a  tier  of  wood,  then  an  entrance 
space,  and  then  a  series  of  shelves  from  top 
to  bottom  for  pantry,  medical  department 
and  library,  which  latter  is  extensive.  At 
the  farther  end  is  another  open  space  com- 
municating with  the  "  bed-rooms."  The 
whole  inside  of  the  cabin  is  lined  with  white 
canvas  tenting,  which  brightens  us  up  ten 
times  better  than  dark  logs.  On  the  south 
side  of  the  partition  is  the  "  living-room," 
"dining-room"  and  "kitchen;"  all  in  one 
apartment  to  be  sure,  but  yet  with  their 
recognized  limits.  On  the  north  side  of  the 
partition  is  the  bed-room.  There  are  three 
double  beds  and  three  single  ones,  according 
to  the  wishes  of  the  occupants.  A  pole  rims 
crosswise  of  the  apartment,  and  on  each 
side  of  this  is  a  line  of  pegs  hung  full  of 
clothes.  This  forms  a  wall  dividing  the 
apartment  into  "  bed-rooms."  Carpeted 
alleys  run  between  the  beds,  and  the  walls 
are  hung  with  clothing.  What  we  are  to  do 
with  all  this  clothing  I  do  not  know. 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


23 


Oct.  21.— Just  through  supper  and  every- 
one has  settled  down  to  read,  excepting  sev- 
eral who  have  gone  out  to  "'call  at  the 


Our  Sitting-room. 

neighbors'."  C.  C.  Reynolds,  our  president, 
undertaker,  preacher,  all-around-man,  has 
taken  to  cooking.  He  started  in  well.  For 
supper  he  gave  us  some  fine  tarts.  I  am 
glad  to  be  relieved  from  the  cooking,  and 
do  not  intend  to  engage  in  the  business 
again.  We  shall  see. 

1  am  skinning  mice  now,  little  red-backed 
fellows  which  swarm  in  the  woods  and 
around  the  houses.  I  set  my  traps  every 
night.  This  morning  I  had  a  dozen.  Wol- 
verines and  foxes  are  common  about  here, 
but  they  are  too  cute  for  me  and  decline  to 
be  caught  in  the  steel  traps  which  I  keep 
constantly  set  for  them.  An  Indian  shot  two 
deer  in  the  mountains  and  brought  them  to 
the  village.  The  doctor  traded  for  some 
venison,  which  is  better  than  the  bear  meat, 
though  I  have  no  craving  for  either.  The 
boys  think  me  a  baby  because  I  prefer 
"  mush  "  to  meat. 

Last  Sunday  the  temperature  fell  to  even 
zero.  The  trees  were  heavily  covered  with 
hoar  frost,  and  the  scene,  as  the  sun  rose 
upon  it,  was  magnificent. 

Everything  is  frozen  solid.  The  river  has 
nearly  a  foot  of  ice  already.  The  natives 
are  fishing  through  the  ice  and  their 
methods  are  very  novel  to  me.  They  select 
a  narrow  place  in  the  river,  and  through 


holes  cut  in  the  ice  they  stick  spruce  poles 
with  the  branches  left  on,  so  that  a  fence  is 
formed  across  the  river  between  the  surface 
and  the  bed.  At  intervals  openings  are  left, 
and  across  these  openings  nets  are  stretched. 
The  fish  are  coming  down  the  river  at  this 
time  in  the  year,  and  when  they  reach  one 
of  these  fences  they  swim  along  until  they 
come  to  one  of  the  openings,  when  they  are 
caught  in  the  net.  An  Indian  woman  lies  on 
the  ice  face  down,  all  covered  over  tight 
above  with  brush  and  tent  cloth,  so  she  can 
watch  when  the  fish  get  into  the  net.  Be- 
sides netting  them  this  way,  the  natives 
have  baited  lines  laid  for  the  larger  fish. 
Hooks  are  not  used,  but  the  bait,  a  small 
fish  for  instance,  is  tied  to  the  end  of  a 
string,  and  with  it  a  short,  slender  stick. 
A  large  fish  swallows  the  bait  and  the  stick 
with  it.  When  the  fish  starts  away  the  line 
is  jerked  taut,  and  the  stick  turns  crosswise 
in  his  stomach,  and  holds  the  game  secure 
until  drawn  up  through  the  hole  in  the  ice. 
Several  of  us  were  over  watching  the  In- 
dians fishing  yesterday  and  were  examining 
some  of  the  fish.  I  picked  one  up  in  my 
innocence,  but  was  commanded  to  put  it 
down.  The  women  were  very  much  vexed 
with  me,  and  were  careful  to  place  the  fish 
exactly  the  way  it  was.  Clyde  came  with 
his  camera  to  take  some  photographs,  but 
the  natives  considered  it  "  bad  luck,"  and 


Our  Kitchen. 

he  was  remonstrated  with  vehemently,  and 

finally    went    away,    dallying    until    he  had 

taken    a    shot    or   two.    These    women  will 


24 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


have  their  hands  full  with  us  boys  before 
the  winter  is  over,  I  fear. 

The  natives  will  not  dress  any  deer  skins 
until  the  snow  comes,  "  so  that  game  will  be 
plenty  "  this  winter.  I  am  at  work  upon  a 
small  vocabulary  of  the  Eskimo  language, 
and  already  have  two  hundred  words.  The 
language  has  many  guttural  sounds,  and  is 
hard  to  express  with  letters,  but  I  am  learn- 
ing it  rapidly,  and  getting  the  words  written 
as  accurately  as  possible  under  difficulties. 

One  of  the  Indian  boys,  Lyabukh,  is  very 
bright,  and  understands  what  I  want.  He 
is  leaguing  English  very  fast. 

Our    preacher    holds    services     regularly 


Come  to  Church. 

every  Sunday,  and  we  go  out  to  gather  in  all 
the  Indians  of  the  village  and  the  white  men 
in  the  vicinity.  Four  parties  of  three  white 
men  each,  have  put  up  winter  quarters 
within  a  mile  of  us,  so  we  have  quite  a  com- 
munity. Besides  these,  there  are  some 
twenty  prospectors  six  miles  below  us  and 
five  above  us.  All  have  built  snug  winter 
cabins.  About  a  mile  above  us,  back  in  the 
woods,  twenty  Eskimos  have  established 
their  village  for  the  winter,  and  built  their 
dug-outs,  or  igloos.  There  is  seldom  an  hour 
in  the  day  when  two  or  more  natives  are  not 
in  our  cabin,  and,  with  a  little  encourage- 
ment, such  as  C.  C.,  with  his  missionary  in- 
stincts, gives  them,  they  have  become  very 
persistent  visitors. 

Last  Sunday  services  were  largely  at- 
tended, there  being  fifteen  natives,  and  ten 
of  our  white  neighbors.  It  was  proposed,  and 
unanimously  carried,  that  a  church  be  con- 
structed by  this  community.  So  Monday, 
Tuesday  and  Wednesday  over  a  dozen  men 
were  at  work  on  the  new  chapel,  which  is  lo- 


cated back  in  a  sheltered  place  in  the  woods. 
It  is  now  finished  except  the  fireplace,  and 
will  serve  as  a  church,  school-room,  and  lec- 
ture-room or  town  hall. 

Several  of  us  are  going  to  start  a  school 
for  the  Eskimo  children  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. We  have  seven  months  before  us  to 
occupy  in  some  manner,  and  why  not  this? 
It  would  be  monotonous  to  be  continuously 
biting  off  northern  zephyrs,  and  pulling  the 
threads  out  of  a  tangled  beard,  and  rubbing 
one's  ears,  and  eating  baking-powder  bis- 
cuit; biscuit  that  are  none  of  your  light, 
fluffy  things  that  have  no  backbone  to  them, 
but  something  that  will  stay  with  you  on  a 
hunt  or  a  tramp  with  the  tempera- 
ture below  the  counting  mark. 
Then  there  are  the  nice  fat  sides 
of  bacon  carefully  preserved — "  the 
white  man's  buffalo  meat,"  as  the 
Sioux  Indians  used  to  call  it.  We 
have  ordinary  fried  bacon,  and 
hashed  bacon,  and  pork  chops. 
When  it  is  dreadfully  cold  and  it 
doesn't  slice  readily,  we  chop  it  up 
with  the  axe  —  and  then  it  is  we 
have  pork  chops! 

For  variety's  sake,  if  for  nothing 
else,     we     would     all     vote    the 
"  school."     Our  life  on  the  Kowak 
will  not  be  a  sealed  book  never  to 
be     read     again     when     once     the 
springtime    lays    it    away    on    the 
shelf.    We  shall  take  it  down  and 
peruse  it  and  possibly  make  mar- 
ginal entries  in  it  when  we  are  too  old  to  do 
anything  else.    Sitting  in  the  chimney  corner 
toothless,  and  feeble  of  gait,  it  will  give  us 
pleasure  to  remember  the  "  school  "   in  the 
woods,  on  the  banks  of  the  mighty  Kowak. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

OCT.  30.— Returned  last  night  from  a  six 
days'  trip  up  Hunt  River.  Clyde  and 
I  started  together  with  the  expectation 
of  getting  far  into  the  mountain  ranges.  As 
has  been  my  custom  from  a  small  boy  when 
starting  on  a  trip,  I  made  big  preparations, 
much  bigger  than  necessary.  We  had  grub 
enough  for  two  weeks.  The  boys  expected 
great  things  on  our  return  —  bear,  deer  and 
other  game,  all  of  which  was  confidently 
promised.  But  to  tell  the  honest  truth,  I 
wanted  to  get  some  chickadees  and  butcher 
birds.  To  carry  our  voluminous  outfit  we 
appropriated  a  sled  belonging  to  a  neighbor- 
ing Indian  who  had  gone  fishing.  These  na- 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


25 


tive  sleds  are  very  light,  having  birch  run- 
ners, and  slender  spruce  frame-work,  the 
whole  strongly  lashed  together  with  raw- 
hide thongs.  Every  morning  before  loading 
we  poured  water  on  the  runners,  thus  form- 
ing an  ice  shoe.  As  yet  there  is  no  snow, 
so  that  our  route  necessarily  lay  along  the 
frozen  river,  which  was  covered  with  a  foot 
of  ice.  Our  load  weighed  about  three  hun- 
dred pounds,  and  where  the  ice  was  smooth 
little  exertion  was  needed  to  draw  the  sled 
as  fast  as  we  could  walk.  In  some  places 
sand  had  blown  into  the  ice  and  such  spots 
would  give  us  hard  work.  We  wore 
"  creepers  "  on  our  heavy  boots  —  that  is,  a 
kind  of  conical  pointed  spike,  screwed  into 
the  bottoms,  three  into  the  heel  and  four 
into  the  sole  of  the  shoe.  With  these  we  can 
walk  anywhere  up  or  down  upon  the  ice 
without  slipping.  In  traveling,  one  of  us 
pulled  the  sled,  with  the  rope  over  his  shoul- 
der, while  the  other  pushed.  Across  the  rear 
of  the  sled  were  two  sticks  projecting  back- 
wards and  upwards,  with  a  cross-piece  to 
push  against,  baby-carriage  fashion.  - 

The  first  day  we  made  rapid  progress, 
making  twenty-five  miles.  WTe  camped  at 
night  not  far  from  the  first  foot-hills.  The 
tent  was  raised  in  a  grove  of  cottonwoods 
near  the  river,  and  soon  a  fire  roared  in  the 
camp  stove.  When  I  had  the  fire  well 
started,  I  went  down  to  get  a  pail  of  water. 
I  walked  to  the  middle  of  the  creek  and  be- 
gan to  chop  hard  where  I  thought  the  ice 
was  thinnest.  Sure  enough  I  had  judged 
correctly,  for  with  the  second  stroke  the  ice 
gave  way  under  me,  and  down  I  went  to  the 
arm-pits  in  the  icy  water.  I  had  fallen 
through  an  air  hole.  Luckily  the  ice  all 
around  was  firm,  so  that  I  could  raise  myself 
up  and  wriggle  out,  or  else  my  bath  might 
have  been  continued.  As  it  was,  before  I 
could  reach  the  tent  my  clothes  were  frozen 
stiff.  The  temperature  was  below  zero. 

Fortunately  for  me  I  had  a  warm  tent  and 
a  change  of  clothes  to  go  to.  Meanwhile 
Clyde  had  cut  a  big  pile  of  wood  and  soon 
we  were  wrestling  with  piles  of  flapjacks. 

After  supper  I  had  another  experience 
with  the  ice.  Forgetting  that  I  had  ex- 
changed my  wet  boots  for  a  pair  of  shoes 
without  creepers  in  them,  I  started  to  go 
across  the  river.  '  After  the  first  ice  had 
formed  the  river  had  fallen,  and  now  the  ice 
sagged  downward  from  the  banks  towards 
the  middle,  hammock-wise.  As  soon  as  I 
stepped  on  the  ice  my  feet  flew  out  from 
under  me  and  down  I  slid.  I  got  up.  no 
worse  for  wear,  but  with  a  sudden  recollec- 


tion that  I  had  no  creepers  on.  I  cautiously 
started  to  walk  to  the  bank,  but  on  account 
of  the  slant  of  the  slippery  ice,  I  could 
make  little  headway  before  slipping  back. 
I  was  in  a  similiar  position  to  that  of  a 
mouse  in  a  tin  basin.  Finally  by  walking 
down  the  river  a  short  distance,  I  pulled 
myself  up  by  an  overhanging  willow. 

Next  morning  at  sunrise  —  eight  o'clock  — 
we  started  on  up  the  river.  Soon  we  came 
to  long  stretches  of  open  water  where  the 
stream  had  been  too  swift  to  freeze  over. 
In  several  places  the  icy  margin  was  so  nar- 
row that  it  afforded  room  for  but  one  run- 
ner on  the  ice,  and  we  had  to  drag  the  sled 
over  pebbles  and  sand. 

Owing  to  the  fact  that  the  stream  became 
swifter  the  further  we  went,  we  turned 
about  and  started  back  with  a  view  to  mak- 


Native  Method  ot  Piling  Winter  Wood. 

ing  camp  among  the  willows  down  the  river, 
where  we  had  seen  the  most  birds  on  the 
way  up. 

Clyde  shot  twice  with  his  rifle  at  a  red  fox. 
but  missed  it.  He  got  "  rattled,"  as  one 
usually  does  when  shooting  at  game,  and 
as  I  have  seen  good  hunters  do.  He  tried  a 
target  at  the  same  distance  as  the  fox  had 
been  and  hit  the  bull's-eye  squarely. 

We  got  down  to  the  willows  late  in  the 
evening,  but  in  time  to  select  a  sheltered 
place  for  the  tent  before'  dark.  While  I 
cooked  the  supper  Clyde  gathered  a  large 
stack  of  hay  for  our  bed.  In  a  swale  near 
by  the  finest  kind  of  red-top  hay,  all  cured, 
stood  waist  deep.  Here,  among  the  willows. 
eight  miles  from  Camp  Penelope,  we  re- 
mained for  four  nights.  There  were  a  good 
many  fox  and  wolf  tracks  in  the  sand,  and 
I  had  my  traps  set  all  the  time,  but  without 


26 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


success.  However,  I  obtained  a  mouse  new 
to  me— the  lemming.  Clyde  tramped  through 
the  country  toward  the  mountains,  but  saw 
nothing  of  importance.  He  fished  and 
brought  back  three  grayling.  I  paid  my  re- 
spects to  the  small  birds  and  secured  four 
rare  chickadees,  besides  several  redpolls, 
pine  grosbeaks,  Alaskan  jay,  grouse,  ptar- 
migan, etc.  I  had  bad  luck  with  ptarmigan. 
I  missed  seven  good  shots  for  some  reason. 
The  ptarmigan  are  now  clothed  in  very 
thick  winter  plumage,  which  may  account 
for  it  in  part. 

I  secured  five.  They  are  pure,  spotless 
white  with  black  tails.  They  are  very  con- 
spicuous now,  until  the  snow  conies,  and 
they  seem  to  realize  it,  for  they  are  ex- 
tremely shy.  They  remain  in  flocks  in  the 
willow  thickets.  In  the  middle  of  the  day 
they  may  be  found  dusting  themselves  on 
the'  sunny  side  of  the  river  banks  among  the 
willows.  Their  tracks  are  everywhere.  Al- 
though there  is  no  snow  on  the  ground,  in 
many  places  there  is  a  thick  layer  of  hoar 
frost  on  the  sand  and  grass,  and  tracks  of 
any  bird  or  animal  are  easily  seen. 

The  days  have  grown  very  short  now.  We 
would  have  to  light  our  candle  by  half-past 
four,  and  soon  we  would  begin  to  yawn, 
and  by  six  we  would  go  to  sleep,  not  to  get 
up  again  until  eight  the  next  morning;  and 
even  then  it  is  with  reluctance,  on  account 
of  the  cold.  The  tent  was  easy  to  keep  com- 
fortably warm  on  the  inside  as  long  as  the 
tire  burned  in  the  stove,  but  in  an  hour  after 
the  fire  went  out  it  was  as  cold  inside  as  it 
was  outside.  Clyde  and  I  slept  on  the  hay 
with  two  pairs  of  blankets  under  us,  and 
two  pairs  over  us,  and  a  large  canvas  sheet 
outside  of  the  blankets  well  tucked  in.  And 
the  blankets  were  no  common  ones.  They 
were  made  for  the  Arctic  trade,  and  were  as 
thick  as  an  ordinary  comforter.  And  then 
we  wore  all  our  clothes.  Each  had  on  three 
pairs  of  heavy  wool  socks,  a  hood  and  mit- 
tens. 

In  the  morning  the  edges  of  the  blankets 
were  faced  with  ice  from  our  breath,  and 
the  inside  of  the  tent  sparkled  with  a  beauty 
I  cannot  describe.  It  was  fourteen  degrees 
below  zero  the  last  morning,  and  the  boys 
at  home  declared  we  got  "  frozen  out,"  the 
reason  we  returned  so  soon.  When  they 
found  out  that  we  did  not  go  even  to  the  foot 
of  the  mountains,  but  had  camped  all  that 
time  in  the  willows  just  across  the  river, 
they  ridiculed  us  unmercifully,  especially 
tin1  doctor.  But  I'll  be  even  witli  him  some 
bright  Arctic  day.  He  even  insinuated  that 


I  went  on  that  trip  just  to  be  able  to  cook  as 
much  mush  as  I  wanted  to  eat.  I  will  ad- 
mit that  mush  was  a  very  agreeable  feature 
of  the  trip. 

I  really  obtained  what  I  went  for  — the 
chickadees.  I  have  tramped  with  a  burro 
(a  California  donkey),  a  canoe,  and  at  last 
with  a  sled,  and  I  must  say  that  the  sled  is 
preferable  when  one  has  a  level  surface  to 
travel  over. 

\Y(  haci  carried  grub  for  two  weeks,  a 
7  x  10  tent,  camp  stove  and  three  lengths  of 
pipe,  four  pairs  of  blankets,  tent  fly,  sailor 
bag  full  of  clothing,  ax,  hatchet,  camera, 
two  guns,  traps,  etc.  I  think  I  will  make  an- 
other trip  soon  if  the  weather  remains  clear. 

Nov.  7.— A  week  ago  Dr.  Coffin,  Clyde  and 
Rivers,  with  a  Dr.  Gleaves  of  the  Hanson 
Camp  below  us,  started  up  the  Kowak  to 
visit  the  other  section  of  our  company  about 
one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  north,  and  to 
find  out  all  the  news  of  interest  along  the 
route.  They  walked,  carrying  food,  abun- 
dant clothing,  and  camping  tools,  on  a  sled. 
They  hope  to  make  the  round  trip  in  three 
weeks  I  had  intended  to  make  the  trip  with 
them,  but  have  not  yet  put  up  all  the  birds 
in  my  possession,  and  must  work  on  them. 
We  are  a  small  family  now.  only  six.  C.  C. 
still  cooks,  and  I  am  willing  he  should  con- 
tinue the  good  work.  He  makes  i>ies  and 
cakes  almost  "  as  good  as  mother  used  to 
make,"  and  fine  yeast  bread. 

A  clamp,  raw  east  wind  makes  it  bitterly 
cold  to-day.  At  daylight  this  morning  I 
went  across  the  river  to  the  willows  for  a 
couple  of  hours.  It  was  six  degrees  below 
zero  when  I  started,  and  I  wore  only  a  thin 
hood  and  mittens  and  a  canvas  jumper.  By 
the  time  I  got  well  across  I  felt  nearly 
frozen,  and  as  soon  as  possible  I  built  a  fire. 
My  nose  was  frost-bitten  before  I  knew  it. 
I  shot  a  ptarmigan  and  two  redpolls  before 
returning. 

Chenetto,  one  of  our  native  neighbors, 
trapped  a  big  gray  wolf,  a  white  fox  and  a 
red  fox  last  week,  i  have  tried  to  trade  for 
them,  but  the  natives  say  they  need  them 
for  clothing;  and  they  very  plainly  do,  for 
these  are  the  poorest  Indians  we  have  met. 
I  regret  our  opportunity  for  trading  down 
at  Cape  Prince  of  Wales.  We  expected  the 
same  advantage  in  Kotzebue,  but  are  disap- 
pointed. One  or  two  of  our  company  keep 
an  eye  on  special  bargains  and  appropriate 
them. 

Last  week  a  German  called  at  every  camp 
on  the  Kowak  working  up  a  "  winter  mail 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN   ALASKA. 


.    27 


route."  He  had  skated  up  from  the  mouth 
of  the  river,  and  proposed  to  take  letters 
down  to  Cape  Blossom  for  one  dollar  each. 
A  reindeer  team  is  expected  there  from  St. 
Michaels  in  December  which  will  bring  in  or 
carry  back  any  mail.  He  is  called  "  The  Fly- 
ing Dutchman." 

Another  man  from  up  the  river  came  down 
yesterday  on  me 
same  business,  " 
proposing  further 
to  take  mail  him- 
self to  St.  Mi- 
chaels. Some  of 
our  Iowa  neigh- 
bors warned  us 
of  him  as  a  pos- 
sible "  c  r  o  o  k." 
He  claims  to 
have  seven  hun- 
dred letters  prom- 
ised at  one  dollar 
each.  One  meets 
all  kinds  of  peo- 
ple in  this  deso- 
late country,  and 
even  the  face  of 
a  "  crook  "  is  not 
rare. 

Schemers     are 
trying    various 


The  "  Flying  Dutchman." 


ways  to  get  money.  The  gold  proposition 
here  is  an  entire  failure  so  far,  and  the 
stories  published  are  no  better  than  "  made 
up  on  purpose."  It  is  supposed  they  were 
constructed  by  the  transportation  com- 
panies, and  surely  these  have  reaped  a 
harvest  this  year.  A  thousand  men  are 
in  winter  quarters  in  the  Kotzebue  region, 
besides  the  many  who  went  back  the 
last  thing  in  the  fall.  Hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  dollars  were  expended  by  parties 
coming  here,  and  nothing  is  taken  out;  all 
of  that  money  going  to  the  transportation 
companies  and  merchants  of  San  Francisco 

and   Seattle.    The   H crowd   alone,    who 

are  camped  five  miles  below  us,  paid 
$31,000  for  their  outfit,  including  sailing  ves- 
sel and  river  steamer.  Part  of  this  company 
got  "  cold  feet  "  and  went  back,  and  the  re- 
mainder have  tons  of  provisions  here  to  dis- 
pose of.  They  cannot  get  it  into  the  interior 
to  the  Klondike  regions,  and  so  they  will 
have  to  transport  it  all  back  down  the  river 
and  so  on  to  San  Francisco,  unless  they  can 
dispose  of  it  on  the  way.  which  is  not  likely. 
It  is  strange  how  many  fools  were  started 
to  this  country  by  bogus  reports  in  the  news- 
papers. Each  party  thought  itself  about  the 


only  one  coming  up  here,  and,  what  is  most 
amusing,  many  of  them  had  a  "  sure  thing." 
Several  parties  whom  we  know  of  paid 
someone  for  a  "  tip  "  as  to  the  exact  place 
where  the  gold  was  waiting  for  the  lucky 
man  to  pick  it  up.  When  they  arrived  at  the 
Sound  they  rushed  as  soon  as  their  feet 
could  carry  them,  to  take  possession  of  their 
promised  gold,  only  to  find  that  they  had 
been  duped.  They  returned  with  righteous 
indignation  burning  in  their  bosoms,  and  to 
this  day  and  for  all  time  to  come,  justice  is 
in  hiding  for  the  scoundrels,  if  they  are 
found. 

This  country  may  possibly  have  gold  in  it, 
for  I  know  that  it  has  not  been  prospected 
as  it  should.  Men  pan  out  on  a  sand-bar 
of  a  river  here  and  there  and  are  discour- 
aged at  finding  nothing.  And  moreover  they 
will  not  do  another  stroke  of  work,  but 
either  return  to  the  States,  or  camp  some- 
where waiting  for  "  another  man  "  to  sink 
shafts  and  do  what  we  know  is  real  pros- 
pecting. 1  should  not  be  surprised  if  three- 
fourths  of  the  people  on  this  river  are  idle, 
waiting  for  the  others  to  dig.  I  know  that 
our  camp  has  done  practically  nothing,  as 
may  be  seen  from  the  reports  which  I  have 
made,  when  I  myself  was  supposed  to  be 
one  of  the  prospectors.  We  are  all  equally 
guilty.  It  seems  that  people  expected  to 
find  mines  all  ready  to  work,  and,  since  none 
are  visible,  sit  down  and  give  it  up.  Our 
company,  as  well  as  many  another,  is  some- 
thing of  a  farce  when  it  comes  to  being  a 
"  mining"  company."  We  are  doing  nothing. 
It  seems  that  when  the  gold  fever  takes  hold 
of  a  man  it  deprives  him  of  a  fair  propor- 
tion of  his  reason.  But  it  cannot  be  denied 
that  we  are  getting  experience.  Who  would 
not  be  a  miner  under  such  comfortable  cir- 
cumstances as  ours?  Meanwhile  I  am  skin- 
ing  mice  and  chickadees.  I  am  doing  ex- 
actly what  I  want  to  do,  and  wrork  here  is 
original  work  of  which  I  -shall  be  glad  in 
time  to  come.  I  would  be  nowhere  else  in 
the  world  than  right  here  now.  One  cannot 
take  a  stroll  in  the  Arctics  every  day.  I  am 
resolved  to  remain  as  long  as  I  can  and  im- 
prove my  opportunities.  If  the  company  dis- 
bands I  shall  slay  with  the  missionaries.  I 
do  not  know  what  this  gold-hunting  expe- 
dition came  up  here  for  unless  to  accommo- 
date me.  unintentionally  of  course.  Every- 
thing delights  me,  from  the  hoar  frost  on 
my  somewhat  scanty  though  growing  beard, 
to  the  ice-locked  Kowak  and  its  border  of 
silver-laden  spruces.  And  the  ptarmigans ! 
What  beautiful  birds!  part  and  parcel  in 


28 


GOLD  HUNTING  IN  ALASKA. 


color  and   endurance  of  this  frozen   world. 
And  the  winter  is  not  half  over.    What  rev- 


In  the  Spruce  Woods. 

elations  when  spring  knocks  at  the  barred 
doors!  How  alert  the  awakening  landscape 
I  can  as  yet  only  partially  realize. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

pOV.  12,  7  o'clock  a.  m.— Great  excite- 
ment prevails.  The  "  Flying  Dutch- 
man "  returned  down  the  Kowak  last 
night.  He  is  the  German  who  passed  on 
about  twelve  days  ago  to  learn  all  the  news 
and  gather  mail.  tLe  brings  us  good  news, 
such  news  as  makes  the  heart  of  a  gold- 
hunter  in  the  Arctics  palpitate  with  emotion. 
He  met  a  man  above  the  Par  River,  one 
hundred  and  seventy-five  miles  east  of  us, 
who  had  just  come  over  from  the  head 
waters  of  the  Koyukuk  River  to  get  a  sled- 
load  of  provisions.  This  man  reported  that 
gold  in  large  quantities  had  been  found  on 
a  branch  of  the  Koyukuk  near  the  head  of 
this  river,  and  that  he  and  others  had  staked 


out  rich  claims.  The  "  Flying  Dutchman  " 
also  reported  that  six  of  our  boys  from  the 
upper  Penelope  Camp  had  already  started 
with  sleds  for  that  region,  and  that  Dr. 
Coffin  had  reached  the  Penelope  Camp  in 
safety  and  was  now  on  his  way  back  to  give 
us  the  news.  We  expect  his  party  to-night. 
This  news,  if  true,  changes  the  whole  aspect 
of  things.  We  have  heretofore  had  no  as- 
surance that  gold  had  been  found  in  this 
country,  and  we  believed  ourselves  to  be  the 
victims  of  "  fake  "  stories.'  What  a  change 
of  feeling  in  our  camp!  Although  this  re- 
port may  also  be  a  fake,  we  will  enjoy  these 
happy  expectations  until  further  develop- 
ments. One  thing  is  true,  and  that  is  that 
our  boys-  above  here  have  started  a  party 
to  the  head  of  the  Koyukuk,  and  must  have 
learned  something  favorable.  When  the 
doctor  and  the  rest  get  back  to-night  we 
shall  certainly  know  all  about  it. 

It  was  just  a  day  or  two  ago  that  I  was 
writing  a  discouraging  entry.  So  hope  fol- 
lows despair,  and  again  despair  may  follow 
on  the  heels  of  hope,  with  gold-hunters. 

We  have  two  sleds  now  nearly  finished,  so 
that  if  the  doctor  confirms  the  news,  we 
will  be  ready  to  start  immediately  for  the 
Koyukuk  in  the  teeth  of  an  Arctic  winter. 
Let  it  growl!  What  care  gold-hunters  for 
old  Boreas?  We  are  in  high  spirits.  Last 
night  we  had  what  is  denominated  with  us 
"a  high  old  time."  We  yelled,  and  danced, 
and  sang  impromptu  songs,  such  as  the  fol- 
lowing, which  needs  the  camp  conditions  to 
give  it  the  true  ring: 

The  Flying  Dutchman  came  round  the  bend, 

Good-by,  old  Kowak,  good-by ; 
Shouting  the  news  to  all  the  men, 

Good-by.  old  Kowak,  good-by. 
Gold  is  found  on  the  Koyukuk, 
The    people    here    will    be    piechuck    (Eskimo 

for  "  gone  "). 

The  "  Penelope  "  gang  have  made  a  sleigh, 
And  part  are  now  upon  the  way. 
If  you  get  there  before  I  do, 
Stake  a  claim  there  for  me,  too. 
We'll  start  right  now  with  spade  and  shovel, 
And  dig  out  gold  to  beat  the  devil. 

This  immortal  song  proves  that  we  are  a 
lively  crowd.  With  the  banjo  and  autoharp 
as  accompaniment,  we  demonstrate  a  "  good 
time  "  while  we  feel  like  it. 

Meanwhile,  'until  further  news,  we  shall 
continue  to  get  ready  between  the  songs. 
Brown  and  I  and  the  two  Harrys  are  mak- 
ing a  sled. 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


29 


II 

I 


Last  Sunday  we  had  a  good-sized  congre- 
gation for  morning  "  services."  Twenty-five 
white  men  were  present,  but  only  a  few  na- 
tives. We  were  wondering  why  the  Eski- 
mos were  not  coming,  and  Harry  Reynolds 
went  up  to  the  village  to  see.  He  found 
them  all  playing  poker.  Harry  finally  per- 
suaded two  men  to  come,  after  they  had  won 
all  the  stakes.  The  rest  kept  on  playing. 
Natives  who  cannot  speak  a  word  of 
English  —  and  very  few  can  —  know  how  to 
play  cards,  and  can  read  the  numbers  in 
their  own  language  and  count  up  faster 
than  we.  They  play  for  lead,  cartridges, 
tobacco,  etc.,  but  the  stakes  are  never  very 
large,  owing  to  their  limited  means-  Yester- 
day our  cabin  was  full  of 
Eskimos  all  day. 

A  couple  of  young  men 
got  hold  of  our  croconole 
board,  starting  in  at  ten 
in  the  morning  and  play- 
ing without  a  stop  until 
ten  at  night.  And  they 
can  play  well,  too;  better 
than  we  can.  We  found 
that  they  were  playing 
for  tobacco,  and  that  in 
the  house  of  a  half-way 
missionary  outfit  who 
have  just  completed  a 
chapel  for  the  regenera- 
tion of  the  natives!  A 
previously-prepared  quid 
of  tobacco,  which  may 
have  done  service  as  the 
stake  for  other  games  in 
the  past,  was  enjoyed  by 
the  winner  01  each  game,  until  he  in  turn 
was  defeated,  when  the  quid  reverted  to  the 
original  winner,  and  so  on  back  and  forth 
all  day. 

The  Indians  seldom  spit  out  the  tobacco 
juice,  but  swallow  it.  They  seem  to  have 
cast-iron  stomachs.  When  they  smoke,  they 
draw  the  smoke  into^their  lungs  and  retain 
it  several  seconds  before  exhaling.  I  have 
many  times  watched  an  Indian  inhale  a 
great  puff  of  smoke,  but  I  have  never  seen  it 
return  again.  Whether  they  swallow  it,  as 
they  seem  to  do,  or  what  becomes  of  it,  I  do 
not  know.  The  women  and  even  little  chil- 
dren all  smoke.  I  saw  a  funny  sight  last 
summer  down  near  the  Mission,  and  only 
regret  that  the  camera  was  not  along.  A 
little  "  kid  "  about  four  years  old,  without  a 
stitch  of  clothing  on,  except  an  officer's  old 
cap,  was  strutting  around  the  camp  with  an 
immense  corn-cob  pipe  in  his  mouth,  and  he 


knew  how  to  smoke,  too.  The  question  is, 
\vhere  did  he  get  the  pipe? 

At  noon  yesterday  there  were  six  or  eight 
Eskimo  men  and  one  woman  sitting  around 
in  the  cabin,  and  as  usual  at  mealtime  C.  C. 
gave  them  something  to  eat.  Among  the 
other  viands  were  some  beans  and  a  bowl  of 
gravy.  This  gravy  had  been  made  from  the 
juice  of  fried  bear  meat,  but  it  did  not  have 
a  shred  of  the  meat  in  it.  C.  C.  passed 
around  this  varied  mess  in  bowls  to  the  na- 
tives. They  began  to  eat  with  relish,  when 
one  of  the  men  suddenly  demanded  of  C.  C. 
in  a  stern  voice  whether  there  was  any  bear 
in  the  "  cow-cow  "  (food). 

C.  C.  said  at  first  there  was  not,  but  the 


Native  Visitors. 

Indian  tasted  it  again  and  looked  sus- 
piciously at  C.  C.,  who  suddenly  remembered 
the  bear  juice  and  admitted  there  was  "  a 
little."  The  woman  at  once  threw  down  her 
food  and  the  men  fell  to  talking  earnestly. 
They  said  that  bear  meat  would  kill  a 
woman  if  she  ate  it,  but  it  was  perfectly 
safe  for  men.  It  is  awful  to  think  of;  how 
we  might  have  been  held  up  for  murder  in 
that  desolate  land,  and  hung  by  a  rawhide 
rope  to  the  dome  of  the  Arctic  Circle.  It  is 
a  fact  that  this  woman  died  two  weeks  af- 
terward. The  natives  hold  many  supersti- 
tions as  to  when  and  what  to  eat.  No  In- 
dian woman  was  allowed  to  do  any  sewing 
in  the  village  yesterday  because  there  was  a 
man  very  sick  in  one  of  the  igloos.  Should 
they  dare  to  sew  it  might  cause  his  death. 

It  is  half-past  seven  now,  and  C.  C.  has 
got  up  and  is  starting  the  breakfast.  It  is 
beginning  to  be  quite  light  outside  and  I  will 


30 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN   ALASKA. 


go  out  and  examine  my  traps  before  break- 
fast. 

Sunday,  Nov.  13.— The  wind  has  blown 
from  the  north  constantly  for  two  clays  and 
is  increasing.  The  doctor  and  the  boys  are 
not  back  either,  so  they  must  have  stopped 
at  some  camp  on  the  way  down.  They  are 
wise  to  do  that.  I  went  out  on  the  river 
awhile  this  evening,  and  could  scarcely 
stand  up  against  the  wind.  And  the  sand 
was  blowing  in  clouds  across  the  ice  from 
the  opposite  side  of  the  river.  It  has  been 
at  even  zero  all  day.  In  spite  of  the  bad 
weather  there  was  a  large  attendance  at 


Entrance  to  Native  Igloo. 

church  this  morning,  there  being  thirty-two 
white  men  present.  There  were  two  from 
"  Ambler  City,"  thirty-six  miles  up  the 
Kowak,  and  two  or  three  from  the  Jesse 
Lou  Camp  twelve  miles  below  us,  while 
nearly  all  the  Hanson  boys  came  up.  Those 
from  up  the  river  came  down  on  skates  yes- 
terday and  spent  the  night  at  the  Guardian 
Camp,  four  miles  above  us.  They  had  seen 
nothing  of  the  doctor  and  his  party.  Ser- 
vices were  held  in  the  new  chapel  for  the 
first  time.  And  it  was  a  great  success;  the 
chapel,  I  mean.  The  room  was  comfortably 
filled  and  wras  quite  warm.  A  great  blazing 
fire  in  the  stone  fireplace  on  one  side  made 
it  cheerfully  warm,  and  a  great  square 
opening  in  the  roof,  covered  with  an  almost 
transparent  walrus  gut  skin,  admitted 
plenty  of  light.  The  service  consisted 
mainly  of  familiar  hymns,  accompanied  by 
the  orchestra.  The  orchestra  consists  of  the 
autoharp,  played  by  C.  C.,  the  clarionet  by 
Lyman  of  the  Iowa  Camp,  the  banjo  by 


Harry  Reynolds,  and  the  violin  by  Norman- 
din  of  the  Hanson  Camp.  The  music  is  fine, 
too.  It  alone  is  a  big  attraction  for  men  up 
in  this  country,  as  very  few  thought  of 
bringing  musical  instruments.  C.  C.  made  a 
short  talk,  and  so  did  Mr.  Dozier  of  the  Han- 
son Camp.  After  the  regular  service  a 
social  hour  was  spent.  This  was  the  first  re- 
ligious meeting  since  leaving  the  States,  for 
several  of  the  men.  It  is  very  nice,  I  think, 
to  have  these  Sunday  meetings,  if  only  for 
the  social  enjoyment.  Rumor  has  come  to 
us  by  way  of  the  Yukon  and  Koyukuk  that 
the  Spanish  war  is  at  an  end,  and  that  the 
Philippines  and  Cuba  are  free.  How  we 
would  like  to  know  the  details!  But 
alas!  by  the  time  we  do  get  them 
they  will  be  as  stale  as  last  year's 
gingerbread. 

Nine  men  accepted  our  invitation 
for  dinner,  and  our  house  might  be 
said  to  be  full.  C.  C.  had  prepared 
for  such  an  emergency,  and  a  big 
roast  of  bear  with  stuffing,  fried 
venison  and  pies  without  limit  made 
a  feast  that  everyone  enjoyed.  We 
are  all  "  prodigal  sous,"  the  only  dif- 
ference being  that  we  are  having 
our  "  fatted  calf  "  all  the  way  along. 
Two  of  the  men  declared  that  this 
was  the  first  time  they  had  eaten 
pie  since  leaving  home.  There  is 
nothing  like  pie  to  bring  a  fellow  to 
his  home  senses. 

Those  who  have  visited  all  the 
camps  on  the  Kowak,  say  that  ours 
is  the  largest  and  most  comfortable  house 
on  the  river.  I  think  this  is  the  case,  but  we 
are  not  the  only  ones  who  enjoy  its  comforts 
and  hospitality. 

I  do  not  expect  we  shall  have  so  large  an 
attendance  again  at  Sunday  services,  for 
to-morrow  ten  of  the  Iowa  boys,  our  nearest 
neighbors,  start  with  heavily  loaded  sleds 
to  get  as  far  as  possible  toward  the  Koyu- 
kuk before  the  snow  comes.  Others  are  talk- 
ing of  starting  soon,  and  if  more  favorable 
news  comes  we  may  all  skip  out.  I  would 
not  hesitate  a  moment  to  go  now  if  we  could 
be  sure  as  to  the  snowfall.  We  have  no 
snowshoes,  and  it  would  be  disastrous  to  be 
snowed  in  for  several  months  in  some  deso- 
late place  with  limited  provisions. 

Yesterday  I  made  a  hood  out  of  a  canvas 
flour  sack  to  be  put  on  outside  of  my  wool 
hood  which  mother  knit,  and  it  will  keep 
out  a  good  deal  of  wind.  I  also  put  a  heavy 
canvas  lining  over  my  woolen  mittens  and 
darned  several  pairs  of  socks.  That  is  the 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


31 


first  time  I  have  done  any  mending  since 
leaving  home.  Perhaps  there  is  no  time  in 
a  fellow's  life  when  affectionate  remem- 
brance of  his  human  sisters  so  comes  to  him 
as  when  his  garments  need  repairing.  Bless 
them!  —  the  sisters  and  mothers,  not  the  gar- 
ments. 

Last  week  an  Indian  brought  in  another 
bear,  a  larger  one  than  the  Hunt  River  bear, 
and  we  traded  for  a  hind  quarter,  about 
forty  pounds.  The  flesh  is  rather  strong. 
but  we  eat  it  with  relish.  C.  C.  has  the 
promise  of  the  hide. 

Yesterday  there  was  great  activity  in  sled 
building.  Brown's  sled  is  nearly 
done.  Chenetto,  a  young  Eskimo, 
worked  for  us  most  of  the  day  lash- 
ing the  pieces  together.  He  is  an  ex- 
pert. Luckily  I  traded  for  a  large 
quantity  of  walrus-hide  string  at 
Cape  Prince  of  Wales.  It  is  about 
the  only  material  strong  enough  to 
lash  sleds  together. 

Last   week   we   nearly   all    shaved 
our    beards    off,    which    greatly    im- 
proves the  looks  of  most  of  us.  That 
was  not  the  cause  of  their  removal. 
The    ice    forms    in    one's   moustache 
and  beard  in  chunks,  and  is  very  dis- 
agreeable and  inconvenient  to  carry 
about.     C.    C.    had    a    specially    fine 
beard  and  it  became  him.    Mine  was 
long  on  the  chin   with   rather   silky 
burnsides,  and  the  boys  then  called 
me  Si  Pumpkins.    I  then  shaved  off 
my  moustache  and  all  but  the  long, 
straggling  chin   whiskers,   and   they 
called    me    Deacon    Greentree.     But 
now  I  am   plain   "Joe"   again,   and 
they  tell  me  I  shall  never  attempt  an- 
other beard  at  risk  of  disgracing  the 
camp.     We  have  a  pair  of  grocer's 
scales  with  our  hundreds   of  other  things, 
and  weigh  ourselves  at  times.    My  weight  is 
148  pounds  as  against  127  when  I  left  home 
last   April.    This  proves  that  a  trip  to  the 
Arctics  is  favorable  to  health  and  avoirdu- 
pois. 

By  the  way,  I  saw  my  first  nuggets  to-day. 
"  Hard-luck  Jim,"  one  of  the  men  from 
Ambler  City,  had  three  small  gold  nuggets, 
But  they  were  not  taken  on  the  Kowak,  alas! 
They  came  from  Cook's  Inlet. 

The  "  Flying  Dutchman "  gave  us  a  dia- 
gram of  the  Kowak  River,  with  the  camps 
and  distances  as  he  judged  them  when  skat- 
ing up  the  river.  I  will  record  them,  begin- 
ning at  Holtham  Inlet.  It  may  be  years 
hence  that  some  other  prospecting  parties 


will  wend  their  way  into  these  parts,  and, 
seeing  our  deserted  villages,  pause  in  won- 
der at  the  lesson  they  teach.  The  first  camp 
is  forty  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  Kowak, 
the  Buckeye  Camp;  then  thirty-five  miles 
and  the  Orphans'  House;  one-half  mile  and 
Sproud's  Camp;  nine  miles,  Riley  Wreck; 
nine  miles,  Falkenberg  Camp;  one  mile. 
Lower  Kotzebue  Camp;  twelve  miles,  Indian 
Camp:  twenty  miles,  Jesse  Lou  Camp; 
twelve  miles,  Sunnyside:  one-half  mile. 
Lower  Hanson  Camp;  three  miles.  Lower 
Penelope  Camp  (our  own)  and  Lower  Iowa 
Camp;  four  miles,  Guardian  Camp;  thirty 


The  Leaning  Tree  that  Marked  our  Camp. 

miles,  Ambler  City;  three  miles,  Upper  Han- 
son Camp;  fifty  miles,  Mulkey's  Landing; 
four  miles.  Camp  Riley;  four  miles,  Agues 
Boyd  Camp;  ten  miles,  Tapper  Iowa  Camp; 
two  miles,  Kogoluktuk  River,  on  which, 
about  six  miles  from  the  mouth,  are  the 
Upper  Penelope  Camp  (our  boys)  and  river 
boat  "Helen";  ten  miles,  Stony  Camp;  one 
and  one-half  miles,  Upper  Kotzebue  Camp 
and  Kate  Sudden  gulch;  three  miles,  Farus- 
worth  Camp;  three  miles.  Nugget  Camp; 
eight  miles,  Upper  Guardian  Camp;  five 
miles.  Davenport  Camp;  five  miles,  Leslie  D. 
Camp;  eight  miles,  Ralston  Camp;  two  miles, 
Par  River,  Captain  Green's  Camp.  From 
this  point  there  are  camps  on  to  the  Reed 
River,  seventy-five  miles  further  up  the 


32 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


Kowak,  but  the  "  Flying  Dutchman "  did 
not  go  farther  than  the  Par  River.  He  re- 
ports eight  hundred  men  in  winter  quarters 
on  the  Kowak  alone.  Thus  is  this  desolate 
Kowak  country  peopled  with  expectant  gold 
seekers,  where  a  year  ago  a  white  man's 
track  in  the  snow  was  a  thing  unknown. 
And  what  will  be  the  result?  Time  alone, 
with  the  assistance  of  my  note-book,  shall 
record  it.  And  here  come  the  boys,  but  the 
doctor's  face  is  not  jubilant. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

"APOV.  15,  1898.— The  boys  returned  last 
J  \  night  very  weary.  They  gave  us  the 
news  much  as  the  "  Flying  Dutch- 
man "  had.  Six  of  our  Upper  Penelope  boys 
have  started  for  the  Koyukuk  with  four 


Starting  for  the  Koyukuk. 

months'  provisions.  They  are  Miller,  Foots, 
Alec,  Stevenson,  Shafer  and  Casey.  They 
carry  eighteen  hundred  pounds  on  two  sleds, 
three  men  to  each  sled.  Shaul  has  gone  to 
the  Pick  River,  where  "  good  indications " 
are  reported.  That  leaves  Wilson,  McCul- 
lough  and  Farrar  at  the  Upper  Camp.  Dr. 
Coffin  has  little  faith  in  the  news.  He  fears 
it  is  an  unfounded  rumor  like  many  another. 
Moreover  our  doctor  thinks  it  foolhardy  and 
dangerous  to  start  on  such  a  trip,  and  he  is 
anxious  about  the  boys  who  have  gone. 
None  of  them  have  had  any  experience  with 
cold  weather,  being  California  boys.  Casey, 
in  fact,  was  never  outside  of  Los  Angeles 


county,  until  this  trip,  and  none  of  the  crowd 
are  dressed  for  severe  weather.  They  have 
but  little  fur  clothing.  However,  timber 
covers  most  of  the  country  they  will  cross, 
and  they  will,  of  course,  put  up  a  cabin  if 
necessary.  You  couldn't  entice  the  doctor  out 
on  such  a  trip  for  all  the  gold  in  Alaska. 
It  ranged  down  to  thirty-five  degrees  below 
zero  while  he  and  the  boys  were  out,  and 
they  camped  several  nights,  although  at  all 
the  camps  on  the  river  hospitality  reigned. 
The  doctor  had  one  finger  frozen.  He  says 
he  did  not  suspect  it  was  nipped  until  he 
warmed  his  hands  over  the  camp  fire.  It  is 
very  easy  to  be  frozen  without  knowing  it, 
even  with  the  thermometer  only  thirty-five 
degrees  below.  But  what  about  sixty  below 
zero? 

News  has  come  to  us  that  hundreds  of 
other  men  are  waiting  to  get  to  Kotzebue 
at  the  earliest  possible 
moment.  The  gold-hunt- 
ers up  the  river  are 
mostly  doing  nothing, 
waiting  for  spring  to 
open  so  they  can  go 
home.  A  few  are  sink- 
ing shafts  in  favorable 
localities,  but  as  yet 
without  success,  though 
there  are  some  "  indica- 
tions," whatever  these 
are.  It  is  a  great  under- 
taking to  dig  a  hole  in 
frozen  ground.  Fires  are 
built  and  kept  burning 
for  some  time  and  then 
removed,  and  the  thawed 
dirt  and  gravel  taken 
out.  This  process  is  re- 
peated again  and  again,, 
and  the  result  is  dread- 
fully slow.  Frozen 
ground  is  tougher  than 
rock  to  dig  in.  McCullough,  Wilson  and 
Farrar  are  starting  such  a  hole  at  their 
camp. 

Our  enthusiasm  about  the  new  strike  on 
the  Koyukuk  is  subsiding.  We  sing  no  more 
impromptu  songs.  But  we  have  six  men  in 
that  direction,  and  if  they  are  fortunate 
enough  to  get  through  they  will  send  two 
men  back  for  provisions. 

Meanwhile  I  am  collecting  chickadees  and 
redpolls.  A  couple  or  three  of  our  leading 
men,  who  shall  be  nameless  in  this  connec- 
tion, are  homesick.  Yes,  blue.  They  will  be 
seen  in  Southern  California  as  soon  as  they 
can  crawl  out  of  the  Kowak  country  on  their 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


33 


hands  and  knees.    Now,  watch  and  see  who 
they  are. 

Three  of  our  neighbors  started  up  the 
river  yesterday  with  a  load  of  eleven  hun- 
dred pounds  on  a  sled.  They  started  on  the 
smooth  ice  all  right,  but  five  miles  north 
the  sand  has  covered  the  ice  clear  across  the 
river.  They  were  stuck  there  and,  after 
struggling  over  the  sand  for  a  few  hours, 
gave  it  up  and  returned.  The  Iowa  boys 
have  not  started  yet,  but  are  spending  more 
time  in  making  good  sleds  and  fixing  skates 
on  their  runners.  If  they  start  at  all,  which 
I  doubt,  they  will  certainly  have  better  suc- 
cess than  others.  Dr.  Coffin  declares  he  is 
going  to  stay  by  and  in  our  good,  warm 
cabin  the  rest  of  the  winter.  He  is  quite 
pessimistic  to-night.  He  predicts  much  suf- 
fering this  winter.  He  found  in  his  recent 
travels  that  open  fireplaces  are  a  failure. 
Cabins  heated  by  them  are  cold.  There  is 
too  much  draft  and  the  temperature  cools 
off  quickly  when  the  fire  dies  down.  We 
have  two  stoves,  and  water  never  freezes 
over  in  the  cabin. 

Nov.  18. — We  just  had  a  dreadful  catas- 
trophe. C.  C.  had  set  his  keg  of  yeast  on  the 
rafters  above  the  stove  to  keep  warm  and  do 
its  "  work."  Harry  Reynolds  had  some  poles 
near  by  across  the  rafters.  The  latter  gen- 
tleman is  at  work  on  his  new  sled  and,  re- 
quiring one  of  the  poles,  reached  for  it  rather 
hastily.  As  a  result  the  yeast  keg  turned 
over.  The  doctor  was  sitting  beneath, 
calmly  reading  some  good  book,  when  nearly 
the  entire  contents,  a  gallon  of  sour  yeast, 
poured  on  to  his  unprotected  head  and  down 
his  neck,  and  spread  itself  out  as  if  to  shield 
him  from  any  other  danger.  What  a  sight, 
it  is  impossible  for  me  to  portray.  Not  con- 
tent with  deluging  the  poor  medico,  the  stuff 
slopped  over  everything  in  the  vicinity  of 
two  or  three  yards.  Several  of  us  had  a 
dose,  but  none  was  so  seriously  affected  as 
the  doctor,  who  is  even  now  at  work  on  his 
clothes  with  warm  water  and  a  sponge. 
The  smell  of  sour  dough  permeates  the  at- 
mosphere. Brown  remarks  that  it  reminds 
him  of  the  extremely  sour  odor  which  filled 
the  cabin  of  the  "  Penelope  "  the  first  night 
out  from  San  Francisco. 

For  my  part  I  think  it  convenient  to  have 
these  little  interruptions  —  when  they  fall  on 
another  man's  head.  It  livens  things  up. 

One  or  two  other  events  have  served  to 
liven  us  up.  Last  night  one  of  the  natives 
at  the  Indian  village  died.  It  was  what  we 
expected,  for  he  has  been  very  sick  for  a 


week  with  pneumonia.  This  morning  at 
daylight  we  noticed  a  smoke  across  the  river 
and  I  walked  over  to  investigate  the  cause. 
I  regretted  finding  the  obsequies  closed  and 
the  four  natives  who  had  officiated  just  leav- 
ing. They  had  taken  the  dead  man  and  all 
his  personal  belongings  over  to  the  bank  of 
the  river  opposite  the  village,  to  a  little  knoll, 
where  they  built  a  platform  on  some  poles 
leaned  against  each  other  for  support.  The 
body  was  wrapped  in  tent  cloth  and  laid  on 
this  platform,  which  was  about  five  feet 
above  the  ground  —  as  high  as  the  men  could 
conveniently  reach.  After  this  the  whole 
was  firmly  lashed  together  with  walrus 
thong,  so  the  winds  and  the  dogs  cannot  tear 
it  down.  By  the  side  of  the  scaffold  the 


Scaffold   Burial. 

dead  man's  sled  was  laid  upside  down,  and 
hung  on  the  willows  around  were  all  the 
personal  belongings  of  the  deceased.  He 
was  "  well-to-do,"  and  these  amounted  to 
considerable  as  the  Eskimos  valued  them. 
There  were  two  nice  reindeer  skins,  his 
clothes,  mittens,  mnckluks,  handkerchief, 
tin  cup,  etc.  It  seemed  too  bad  to  see  those 
two  deerskins  left  to  decay  in  the  weather, 
when  the  dead  man's  relatives  are  in  sore 
need,  but  this  is  the  invariable  custom  of 
these  people.  No  worse  than  what  occurs 
among  Christians,  when  all  available  and 
unavailable  funds  are  used  to  defray  the 
expenses  of  an  ostentatious  funeral,  leaving 
the  family  in  destitution. 

Joe  Jury  and  Jack  Messing,  two  of  the 
Hanson  Camp  boys,  spent  the  day  with  us 
and  we  had  a  big  dinner.  This  "  having 
company "  disturbs  the  monotony  of  so 
much  "  prospecting,"  as  we  are  doing  these 
days. 

Nov.  20,  Sunday,  6  p.  m. — To-day  has  been 
a  very  enjoyable  one  at  this  camp  on  the 


34 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


Kowak.  In  fact  every  day  is.  The  Hanson 
boys  were  all  up  for  Sunday  services.  There 
were  also  two  men  from  the  Jesse  Lou 
Camp,  fifteen  miles  below  us,  who  are  visit- 
ing the  Hanson  Camp.  The  latter  have  in- 
vited our  whole  crowd  down  for  Thanksgiv- 
ing dinner  next  Thursday.  We  look  forward 
to  a  "  big  spread,"  for  this  camp  is  abun- 
dantly supplied  with  luxuries  in  the  food 
line,  as  I  can  testify,  having  taken  dinner 
with  them  twice  already.  They  are  well-to- 
do,  educated  men,  full  of  spontaneous  hilar- 
ity, and  a  great  boon  to  the  Penelope  Camp. 
Solsbury  is  a  correspondent  of  the  San  Jose 
"  Mercury."  He  is  a  lawyer  and  of  course  a 
good  talker.  He  tells  stories  by  the  hour. 

This  afternoon  he  got  started  from  some 
cause— a  predetermined  one,  I  presume— and 
talked  for  two  hours.  He  resembles  the 
newspaper  cuts  of  Mark  Twain.  It  is  very 
entertaining  when  he  tells  of  his  experience 
in  lumbering  in  the  Sierras.  His  own  boys 
say  that  he  talks  so  incessantly  that  they 
beg  him  to  quit  before  they  get  tired  of  his 
wit  or  confiscate  it  entirely.  Everyone  grows 
tiresome  to  his  fellows  on  a  trip  like  this;  it 
could  not  be  otherwise.  Constant  associa- 
tion for  months  brings  out  a  man's  faults 
and  traits  of  character  so  plainly  that  those 
which  are  of  little  note  glare  like  tiger's  eyes 
in  the  dark,  and  his  company  becomes  dis- 
agreeable, living  as  we  do  in  a  little  cabin, 
and  looking  in  each  other's  faces  if  we  take 
a  stroll,  to  keep  watch  for  frost  bites.  It  is 
better  to  be  in  a  large  company  than  in  a 
small  crowd,  so  one  can  vary  his  personal 
reflections. 

Jack  Messing  is  a  man  one  likes  to  meet. 
He  is  a  German  by  birth  and  the  most  gen- 
erous of  men  by  nature.  His  great  fault  is 
generosity,  a  vice  seldom  met  with  in  my 
remembrance,  and  the  boys  make  him  the 
butt  of  dozens  of  jokes.  He  would  give 
away  the  last  stitch  of  clothing  he  owns 
should  a  man  ask  him.  He  gives  the  Eski- 
'mos  all  sorts  of  things  and  feeds  them 
whenever  he  can,  which  is  all  the  time,  for 
these  natives  know  a  friend  and  are  faithful 
to  him.  He  has  previously  worn  a  full 
beard,  but  to-day  he  stalked  into  church 
with  his  face  shaven  clean  excepting  a  long 
fringe  of  whiskers  left  in  a  circle  from  ear 
to  ear  around  under  his  chin.  He  wore  a 
belt  and  pistol,  and  had  a  big  tin  star  on  his 
left  coat  lapel  and  carried  a  "  she-la-ly." 
He  looked  exactly  like  an  Irish  policeman, 
only  with  the  usual  recognized  attributes 
of  the  latter  highly  accentuated.  He  stated 
in  Irish  dialect  that  he  was  after  the  thief 


who  had  stolen  a  pail  of  water  from  a  cer- 
tain camp  down  the  river.  As  this  allusion 
was  in  reference  to  a  well-known  occurrence 
of  a  week  ago,  it  was  very  disastrous  to  the 
serious  feeling  which  should  prevail  at  a 
religious  meeting,  and  it  was  some  time  be- 
fore the  congregation  could  settle  down  to 
the  business  in  hand. 

This  afternoon  we  had  a  regular  concert. 
The  violin,  autoharp  and  banjo  make  tine 
harmony  in  this  noiseless  atmosphere,  and 
we  were  soon  expressing  our  feelings  in 
jumping  and  dancing.  Two  pairs  of  bones 
rattled  to  such  of  the  music  as  was  appro- 
priate, and  it  was  no  dull  time  in  the  Pene- 
lope Camp.  Clyde  took  the  pictures  of  the 
crowd.  I  say  this  afternoon,  but  I  mean  to- 
day; it  is  light  for  only  about  six  hours,  and 
at  high  noon  the  sun  scarcely  peeps  above 
the  hills  to  the  southward.  It  appears  to  be 
sundown  at  noon,  and  the  colors  of  sky  and 
landscape  are  beautiful. 

We  have  had  our  first  snow,  only  an  inch, 
but  enough  to  whiten  the  landscape  until 
the  next  wind,  that  is  booked  for  a  circus, 
whisks  it  all  into  the  hollows  and  then  cov- 
ers it  up  with  sand,  giving  it  a  sharp  rap 
and  bidding  it  "  stay  there." 

This  morning  we  saw  a  very  beautiful 
mirage.  The  mountains  and  trees  down  the 
river  from  us  were  reflected  in  the  sky 
above,  upside  down.  Then  for  another  fine 
display  we  have  the  aurora.  Last  night  it 
appeared  in  the  form  of  a  great  bow  reach- 
ing nearly  to  the  zenith.  It  consisted  of 
many  colored  scintillating  rays,  which 
brightened  and  then  almost  disappeared, 
only  to  reappear  in  different  form  as  if  they 
had  left  the  stage  to  change  their  costume. 
The  aurora  appears  in  different  form  each 
night.  And  there  is  the  beautiful  moonlight. 
The  moon  is  above  the  horizon  always  now. 
It  reverses  the  order  of  the  sun  and  shines 
all  day  in  winter,  scarcely  appearing  in  sum- 
mer. 

How  the  time  flies,  to  me  at  least!  Before 
we  know  it.  Spring  will  tap  at  the  door. 
The  unbearable  monotony  of  an  Arctic  win- 
ter, which  some  travelers  dwell  upon  so 
desolately,  is  unknown  to  us  so  far,  and  I 
for  one  will  never  know  it.  During  the  past 
few  weeks  I  have  read.  So  far  have  de- 
voured "  Last  Days  of  Pompeii,"  "  In  His 
Steps,"  "  Opening  of  a  Chestnut  Burr," 
"  The  Honorable  Peter  Sterling,"  and  "  Eti- 
dorpha."  I  spent  two  weeks  upon  the  latter 
and  think  it  is  a  wonderful  book,  coming 
upon  my  thoughts  here  in  the  Arctics  like  a 
great  semi-scientific  visitor.  There  are  more 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


35 


books  in  the  neighborhood  than  I  could  read 
in  two  winters. 

I  have  been  given  a  new  name  —  "  Chick- 
adee Joe."  At  the  Hanson  Camp  they  call 
me  "  Little  Joe,"  to  distinguish  me  from 
"  Big  Joe."  We  are  very  familiar  with  one 
another  and  change  very  suddenly  from  a 
highly  intellectual  crowd  to  one  of  stirring 
juvenility.  We  had  such  an  unexpected 
romp  the  other  day.  There  was  about  an 
inch  of  snow  out  on  the  smooth  ice,  and  it 
was  snowing  great  flakes  still.  Three  of 


After  the  Ball. 

our  boys  were  playing  snowball  with  several 
of  the  Eskimo  children,  and  washing  each 
other's  faces  and  slipping  down  all  over  the 
ice.  Two  Eskimo  "  belles "  joined  us,  Kal- 
hak  and  Aggi-chuck,  and  they  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  give  us  a  return  snowball  or  a  face 
full  of  the  same.  They  were  strong,  too, 
and  several  times  I  found  myself  sprawling 
on  the  ice  and  covered  with  snow,  to  the 
great  amusement  of  everyone.  After  all  that 
may  be  said  of  this  strange  people,  they  de- 
rive a  sort  of  very  human  satisfaction  from 
their  cold  and  narrow  life,  and  I  shall  al- 
ways think  of  them  as  finding  some  happi- 
ness in  the  long  winter  along  with  the 
aurora  and  the  moonlight. 


CHAPTER  X. 

NOV.    25.— To-day    we    are    resting    and 
slowly     recovering     from     yesterday's 
"  spree."    It   was   the   most  gratifying 
Thanksgiving,  as  far  as  the  gastronomic  and 
social    celebrations    are    considered,    that    I 


have  experienced.  At  eleven  o'clock  in  the 
morning  our  "  Penelope "  crowd  of  nine 
were  marshaled  into  line  out  on  the  ice,  and 
marched  three  miles  down  to  the  Hanson 
Camp.  Harry  Reynolds  was  elected  cap- 
tain, and  he  bore  a  streamer  of  red,  white 
and  blue.  We  were  all  dressed  exactly  alike 
in  our  brown  Mackinaw  suits,  sealskin 
uiuckluks  and  hoods.  Our  appearance  was 
picturesque,  and  we  regretted  that  there 
were  so  few  spectators  to  review  us.  We 
admired  ourselves.  When  we  reached  the 
first  of  the  Hanson  cabins,  which  are  built 
within  a  short  distance  of  each  other  in  a 
spruce  forest  on  a  hillside,  we  lined  up  and 
sang  "  Marching  Through  Georgia "  and 
other  patriotic  airs.  We  have  only  recently 
heard  of  the  defeat  of  Spain,  so  were  neces- 
sarily in  harmony  with  the  songs  we  sang. 

After  breaking  ranks  we  were  divided 
among  the  cabins  for  the  day's  entertain- 
ment. Cabin  No.  1  is  occupied  by  Joe  Jury. 
Normandin,  Jack  Messing  and  Solsbnry,  and 
these  gentlemen  invited  C.  C.  Reynolds, 
Clyde  Baldwin,  Rivers  and  myself.  We  felt 
the  honor  of  our  invitation,  for  they  had 
been  before  styled  the  "  Aristocracy  of  the 
Kowak." . 

After  the  "  Penelope  "  crowd  was  appor- 
tioned, each  division  became  the  guests  of 
the  cabin  to  which  it  was  assigned.  Until 
about  three  o'clock  our  company  sat  quietly 
engaged  in  conversation.  Meanwhile  one 
could  scarcely  believe  that  a  state  dinner 
was  in  process  of  preparation,  and  that  in 
the  same  room  in  which  wre  were  sitting. 
Solsbury  was  cook,  and  what  appeared  at 
his  touch  was  marvelous,  considering  that 
the  cabin  was  short  on  culinary  utensils  and 
he  must  "  potter "  over  a  little  sheet-iron 
stove. 

At  three  o'clock  the  table  was  ready  and 
we  sat  down  to  it,  eight  of  us.  We  were 
seated  opposite  our  hosts  —  Rivers  opposite 
Solsbury;  C.  C.,  Normandin;  Clyde,  Jack 
Messing;  and  I  opposite  Joe  Jury  (Big  Joe 
and  Little  Joe),  in  the  order  named.  At  each 
plate  was  an  "  Arctictically "  executed 
menu — a  section  of  birch,  one  of  the  logs  of 
our  hosts'  cabin;  thus  literally  were  we  the 
guests  of  the  house.  This  in  itself  was  a 
very  appropriate  memento  of  Thanksgiving 
on  the  Kowak. 

On  one  side  of  the  plaque  was  written  in- 
delibly the  menu.  In  one  corner  was  a 
sketch  of  the  cabin.  On  the  opposite  we 
later  wrote  our  names,  alternately,  in  order 
as  we  sat  at  table.  Here  is  a  partial  state- 
ment of  the  menu: 


36 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


Split  pea  soup.    Wafers. 

Roast  ptarmigan.    Jelly. 
Turkey  potpie. 
Sweet  potato.    Baked  potato.    Sweet  corn. 

Sago  pudding. 

Mince  pie.    Jelly  tarts.    Olives.    Pickles. 
Coffee.    Cocoa. 

This  spread  was  one  hardly  to  be  expected 
in  the  wilds  of  the  Arctics;  though,  as  I  have 
said,  the  Hanson  Camp  is  never  lacking 


Our  Big  Haul  of  Ptarmigan. 

in  luxuries.  Toward  the  end  toasts  were 
proposed  and  speeches  made.  My  toast  was 
to  the  ptarmigan,  "  The  Turkey  of  the 
Kowak." 

We  were  two  hours  and  a  half  at  the  table, 
and  I  hesitate  to  say  that  some  of  us,  my- 
self included,  had  eaten  more  than  was  for 
our  intellectual  good,  and  we  were  glad  to 
throw  ourselves  on  the  beds  which  bordered 
the  dining-room.  For  the  next  two  hours  we 
rested  and  gradually  revived.  Meanwhile 
our  hosts  entertained  us  in  original  style. 
One  of  the  jokes  was  as  follows:  A  pot  was 
set  in  one  corner  and  in  it  was  placed  a 
small  spruce  branch.  Then  Joe  Jury  sat 
down  behind  this  combination  and  picked 
a  tune  from  a  string  which  was  stretched 
on  a  small  wooden  block.  The  translation 
of  this  performance,  as  we  were  informed, 
was,  "  After  dinner  the  orchestra  dispensed 
sweet  music  from  behind  potted  plants." 
After  we  had  enjoyed  hours  of  fun,  all  the 
guests  were  summoned  from  all  the  cabins 
and  crowded  into  ours.  Several  speeches 


followed,  by  Solsbury,  Dr.  Coffin,  C.  C.  Rey- 
nolds, Jury,  Normandin  and  others.  Then 
came  more  jokes. 

At  last  the  party  broke  up,  and,  after  three 
cheers  for  the  Hanson  boys,  we  marched 
home  in  the  bright  Arctic  moonlight,  in  the 
order  we  had  come.  Thus  ended  the  first 
Thanksgiving  ever  celebrated  on  the 
mighty  Kowak.  On  our  return  home  we 
found  the  house  had  not  been  burglarized  — 
another  proof  that  we  were  not  in  the  limits 
of  civilization. 

And  here  we  are,  spending  the  winter  in 
ease  and  luxury,  while  our  friends  at  home 
are  "  remembering  us  in  their  prayers,"  and 
imagining  us  in  all  sorts  of  peril,  with  dan- 
ger of  overwork,  amid  privation  and  hard- 
ship. The  fact  is.  we  haven't  done  a  stroke 
of  work  worth  mentioning,  when  we  had 
expected  to  be  digging  out  the  precious  nug- 
gets. In  which  condition  are  we  the  happier 
or  best  off?  I  prefer  the  situation  as  it  is. 
What  is  gold  anyway?  It  is  the  "  root  of  all 
evil,"  according  to  a  misquotation,  and, 
conversely,  I  believe  the  less  money  a  per- 
son has,  the  happier  life  he  leads.  Anyway 
it  is  good  policy  for  us  to  advance  this  doc- 
trine until  we  strike  something.  It  tends  to 
keep  us  content. 

Nov.  28.— The  doctor  and  I  have  been  out 
hunting.  We  directed  our  course  down 
through  the  sand-dunes  on  this  side  of  the 
river,  and  had  the  best  luck  so  far  with  the 
ptarmigan.  We  got  eighteen  with  twenty- 
four  shots,  which  beats  all  records,  as  the 
birds  are  shy  and,  on  account  of  their  thick 
coat,  extremely  hard  to  kill.  We  stalked  them 
among  the  hillocks,  finding  them  feeding 
in  the  grass  or  in  the  thickets  of  dwarf 
willows  which  grow  in  the  low  places.  We 
kept  together  and  when  we  had  spotted  a 
flock  we  crept  up  behind  the  nearest  dune, 
often  getting  quite  close  before  alarming 
them.  I  got  three  at  one  pot-shot.  They  are 
hard  to  see  on  the  snow,  but  where  the  sand 
is  bare  or  with  a  background  of  bushes  they 
are  conspicuous.  I  had  one  vexatious  acci- 
dent. We  spotted  some  birds  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  lake  and  crept  around  the 
margin  on  the  ice,  hidden  by  bushes  until 
we  were  within  a  few  yards.  I  had  two 
ptarmagin  beautifully  lined  up  and  was  just 
pushing  the  trigger,  when  my  feet  slipped 
from  under  me  and  my  gun  went  off  into 
the  air.  Before  I  could  recover  myself  the 
ptarmigan  were  also  up  in  the  air.  The  ice 
is  very  slippery  where  the  snow  is  blown 
off,  as  the  sand  driven  over  it  by  the  north 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


'37 


rind  keeps  it  polished  and  prevents  the  hoar 
frost  from  forming  on  it.  The  doctor  found 
a  muskrat  frozen  to  death  near  its  hole.  It 
fell  to  my  mammal  collection.  I  also  caught 
a  gray  meadow  mouse  alive,  as  it  was  cross- 
ing a  little  pond.  It  is  but  my  second.  The 
burrows  and  runways  of  the  little  red- 
backed  mouse  are  common  in  the  woods  and 
meadows.  My  steel  traps  have  caught  noth- 
ing but  jays  so  far.  I  am  sorry  to  catch  the 
jays,  for  i  do  not  disturb  them  near  home, 
hoping  to  get  their  eggs  next  spring.  I 
shall  have  ptarmigan  to  skin  for  several 
days  now  and  so  make  recompense  for  my 
recent  idleness.  I  can  only  work  by  day- 
light, which  lasts  but  about  three  hours  now, 
—that  is,  light  enough  for  me  to  work  at  my 
table.  The  sun  scarcely  climbed  above  the 
horizon  to-day.  Clyde  took  the  doctor's  and 
my  photos  to-day  with  our  big  haul  of  ptar- 
migan. 

Yesterday  there  was  a  fair  attendance  at 
church.  Services  were  held  in  our  cabin,  as 
the  meeting-house  fireplace  fell  in.  It  will 
probably  not  be  used  again  soon,  as  it  is  too 
cold  to  mix  clay  to  mend  the  breach.  Twen- 
ty-nine degrees  below  zero,  and  one  has  to 
be  careful  to  keep  ears, and  hands  covered. 

"Uncle  Jimmy"  (Mr.  Wyse)  gave  me  a 
fatherly  talking  to  for  skinning  ptarmigan 
on  Sunday.  Hitherto  I  have  used  any  time 
available  for  skinning  birds,  but  yesterday, 
after  a  long  argument  and  discussion,  I 
yielded  for  the  winter.  Uncle  Jimmy  argued 
that  I  couldn't  fill  in  all  the  time  there  is  on 
week-days,  and  even  if  I  don't  see  a  rea- 
son for  not  working  on  Sunday,  I  should 
"  consider  the  feelings  of  those  who  do."  He 
is  a  nice  old  Scotchman,  and  I  like  him. 

I  have  just  finished  reading  "  Hugh 
Wynne."  The  doctor  brought  home  some 
numbers  of  "  Appleton's  Science  Monthly " 
from  the  Hanson  Camp,  also  some  back 
numbers  of  "  Harper's."  and  I  am  reading 
articles  in  them. 

The  doctor,  Brownie,  Uncle  Jimmy  and  I 
had  a  hot  argument  to-day  on  capital  pun- 
ishment, also  one  on  "  how  a  young  stu- 
dent should  begin  to  specialize  in  any 
branch  of  study."  I  always  take  the  side 
opposite  the  majority,  so  I  can  have  more 
opportunity  for  argument.  We  have  good 
and  instructive  times  in  this  employment. 
Wednesday  evening  next  is  the  first  of  a 
series  of  literary  entertainments  to  be  held 
weekly.  Solsbury  will  lecture  on  "  The 
Practical  Value  of  Art." 

Dec.    3. — This    morning    Harry    Cox    and 


Harry  Reynolds  started  with  Indian  Tom  up 
the  Kowak.  Tom  was  our  guide  on  our 
first  steamer  trip  across  Holtham  Inlet  last 
summer,  and  he  has  been  camping  in  the 
delta  until  now.  He  is  on  his  way  to  the 
Par  River,  where  his  winter  igloo  is  located. 
The  Harrys  took  advantage  of  company  to 
go  along  with  Tom.  They  took  a  sled  and 
two  dogs,  with  just  enough  outfit  to  supply 
them  on  the  trip.  Their  object  is  to  visit  the 
various  camps  up  the  river  and  find  out  all 
the  news,  especially  in  regard  to  the  strike 
at  the  head  of  the  Koyukuk.  An  Indian  by 
the  name  of  Shackle-belly  visited  us  yester- 
day. He  has  just  come  down  from  the 
Kalamute  River,  about  one  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  above  us,  and  brings  exciting 
news.  He  speaks  pretty  good  English  for  a 
native.  He  said  that  be  had  heard  that  on 
the  Alashook  white  men  were  as  thick  as 
mosquitoes  and  digging  out  "  plenty  gold." 
These  men  had  come  up  the  Koyukuk  last 
summer  from  the  Yukon  with  lots  of  steam 
launches.  They  could  not  get  further  up 
than  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  below  the 
place  where  the  gold  is  found  on  the  Alas- 
hook  River,  on  account  of  the  rapids,  so  they 
had  to  wait  and  sled  up.  Shackle-belly  also 


Indian  Tom  and  Family. 

said  that  most  of  the  men  above  us  on  the 
Kowak  had  already  started  over. 

It  will  be  very  dangerous  for  these  men 
now  at  twenty-nine  degrees  below  zero,  and 
it  must  grow  much  colder  with  more  wind, 
up  on  those  barren  mountain  passes  between 
the  heads  of  the  Kowak  and  Alashook.  The 
Indian  said  one  man  had  already  frozen  to 
death  on  the  trail  this  side,  and  one  had 
fallen  through  a  hole  in  the  ice,  getting  out 
all  right,  but  before  he  could  build  a  fire  he 


38 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


had  frozen  through.  Several  are  frostbitten. 
We  are  anxious  about  our  six  boys  who 
started  from  the  Upper  Penelope  Camp  over 
three  weeks  ago.  However,  if  they  met  with 
no  accidents,  they  must  be  over  into  the 
valley  of  the  Alashook  by  this  time,  where 
the  natives  tell  us  there  is  plenty  of  large 
timber.  Tom  tells  us  that  seven  Indians 
have  died  down  the  river,  and  that  white 
men  are  very  sick.  Tom  has  his  family 
with  him  and  of  course  all  his  belongings, 
which  seldom  amount  to  much,  according  to 
our  estimation  of  values,  among  these  na- 
tives. He  has  two  sleds  and  six  dogs.  He 
and  his  family  spent  the  night  with  us.  We 
spread  tents  for  them  on  the  floor.  We  have 


Windings  of  Squirrel  River. 

not  been  affected  with  vermin  so  far,  and 
take  precautions. 

Last  Wednesday  was  the  first  evening  of 
the  proposed  literary  society.  Solsbury  was 
to  have  been  the  lecturer  of  the  night,  but 
was  sick  and  couldn't  come.  However,  the 
society  elected  officers  —  Joseph  Grinnell  as 
president,  and  Dr.  Coffin  secretary.  Then 
the  doctor  conducted  a  question  box.  Some 
of  the  questions  asked  and  written  on  slips 
of  paper,  with  the  name  of  the  man  who  was 
to  answer,  were  very  serious;  others  were 
humorous. 

By  the  way,  I  must  record  a  new  pie  which 
has  fallen  to  the  lot  of  the  Penelope  Camp. 
('.  (.'.  makes  dozens  of  pie.  We  have  pie 
every  meal  and  between  meals,  and  if  a  fel- 
low gets  hungry  in  the  night  when  the  rest 
are  snoring,  there  is  pie  for  his  satisfaction. 
An  old  Eskimo  woman  from  the  village 
brought  C.  C.  a  pail  of  what  she  considered 
a  rare  delicacy,  a  gift  expressive  of  her 
motherly  consideration.  It  was  a  concoc- 
tion of  wild  cranberries  and  seal  oil. 

It   was  suggestive  to  the  natural   bent  of 


the  cook's  mind,  and  he  made  a  pie  of  the 
stuff.  We  ate  every  bit  of  it  —  that  is,  three 
of  us  did;  the  rest  wouldn't  touch  it.  I  ate 
my  share,  and  must  say  that  if  you  overlook 
the  strong  seal  flavor,  it  would  not  be  con- 
sidered bad.  I  learned  to  eat  cranberry  done 
in  oil  when  I  was  near  Sitka  three  years 
ago.  It  is  too  extravagant  a  dish  to  be  eaten 
every  day,  and  the  natives  keep  it,  Ameri- 
can-wise, "  for  company." 

Last  Tuesday  the  wind  blew  a  gale  at  sev- 
enteen degrees  below  zero,  and  I  thought  I 
would  see  what  I  could  stand.  I  wear  now 
a  union  suit  of  fleece-lined  underwear,  a  pair 
of  blanket-lined  canvas  trousers,  and  a 
heavy  wool  shirt,  with  a  pair  of  thin  wool 
socks  and  a  pair  of  lumber- 
man's socks  inside  my 
muckluks.  I  put  on  a 
leather  corduroy  coat  and 
my  heavy  wool  hood,  with 
a  scarf  around  my  neck 
and  across  my  face.  I  was 
gone,  do\vn  among  the 
sand  dunes,  about  an  hour 
and  a  half.  The  wind  had 
an  unmolested  sweep  there 
and,  I  had  good  opportunity 
to  test  my  clothes.  It  did 
not  penetrate  my  clothing 
a  particle,  and  I  was  per- 
fectly warm  all  except  my 
face.  The  wind  pierced  like 
a  sword  right  through  my 
scarf  and  wool  hood.  When  I  got  home  the 
lobe  of  my  left  ear  was  frostbitten  and  also 
the  same  side  of  my  nose.  Both  sections  of 
my  countenance  are  now  very  sore  and  are 
peeling  off.  I  should  have  worn  a  canvas 
hood  outside  of  my  wool  hood.  Canvas 
keeps  the  wind  out  better  than  anything 
else.  Furs  are  the  best  clothing  in  this 
country,  but  are  very  scarce  among  these 
poor  Indians,  and  but  few  of  our  company 
have  any.  Again  we  regret  not  having 
traded  for  furs  at  Cape  Prince  of  Wales. 
But  we  do  not  suffer  by  any  means.  We 
have  clothing  enough  to  last  for  years.  We 
are  not  so  fortunate  in  the  provision  line. 
However,  should  we  strike  it  rich  enough, 
lying  around  in  our  warm  cabin,  to  make  it 
pay  another  winter,  it  will  be  an  easy,  mat- 
ter to  send  the  "  Penelope "  back  to  San 
Francisco  for  another  load.  The  "Penel- 
ope"! What  will  be  her  fate  when  the  ice 
breaks  up  in  the  spring  no  one  can  foretell. 
At  the  mercy  of  the  unlimited  and  savage 
ice  of  Bering  Sea.  a  frail  little  craft,  no 
longer  than  the  frontage  of  a  city  lot.  We 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


39 


do  not  think  or  speak  of  the  "  Penelope " 
very  often.  We  may  be  orphans  in  the 
spring. 

CHAPTER  XI. 

DEC.  8.— The  beautiful  snow  has  come  at 
last  and  to-day  it  is  six  inches  deep  on 
the  level.      The  trees  are  loaded  and 
the  river  and  meadows  are  painfully  white. 
We  must  get  out  our  snow-glasses,  of  which 
we  have  an  abundance  for  all.      Our  con- 
dition seems  to  resemble  that  of  the  Swiss 
Family   Robinson.    We  find   everything   we 
desire  in  our  cabin,  if  not  in  our  "  wreck." 
We   have  no   wreck.     The  north   wind   has 
been  blowing  a  gale  for  days,  which  at 
last    amounted    to    a    blizzard.     I    went 
across  the  river  in  the  teeth  of  the  wind, 
just  crawling  along  on  the  slippery  ice, 
but  the  fun  was  in  coming  back.    I  had 
but  to  keep   my   balance   and   the   wind 
did  the  rest. 

We  have  been  having  some  strange  ex- 
periences with  the  Eskimos  the  past 
week,  which  has  introduced  us  to  more  of 
their  interesting  superstitions. 

Sunday  evening,  while  we  were  all  en- 
gaged in  reading,  or  quiet  talk,  we  were 
suddenly  startled  by  a  loud  groaning  out- 
side. As  the  gruesome  sound  grew  nearer 
we  scarcely  knew  what  to  expect,  but 
were  prepared  to  give  relief  to  sick  or 
wounded  human  beings  of  whatever  type. 
We  rushed  to  the  door,  to  find  Charley,  the 
Indian  medicine  man  from  the  native  vil- 
lage above.  We  thought  at  first  that  he 
was  but  practicing  his  arts,  but  when  he 
was  brought  in  groaning  and  sobbing  we 
realized  that  he  was  really  very  sick,  and 
the  doctor  pronounced  it  pneumonia.  Soon 
Charley's  family  followed,  and  one  of  the 
little  children  was  nearly  frozen.  The 
wind  was  blowing  a  gale,  and  Charley 
told  us  that  he  had  come  down  from  his 
igloo,  four  miles. 

A  few  days  before  one  of  his  wives  had 
died,  she  who  had  eaten  the  bear  gravy, 
and,  according  to  Indian  superstition  that  a 
person  who  lives  in  a  house  after  another 
has  died  in  it  will  surely  die  himself,  he 
had  moved  out  of  his  warm  dugout  into  a 
tent.  Of  course  it  was  very  cold  in  the  tent, 
and  Sunday  morning  one  of  his  little  girls 
died  as  the  result  of  exposure.  So  Charley 
could  no  longer  live  in  either  the  tent  or  the 
igloo,  and  he  was  thrown  out  into  the  piti- 
less storm  with  his  other  wife  and  three  re- 
maining children.  They  went  to  a  neighbor- 


ing igloo,  but  a  native  would  as  soon  commit 
suicide  as  shelter  any  of  the  family  of  the 
deceased  in  his  house  or  enter  the  house 
where  one  has  died.  As  a  last  resort  Char- 
ley came  to  our  cabin,  and  no  doubt  the 
whole  family  would  have  died  but  for 
this. 

Of  course  we  warmed  and  fed  all  of  them, 
and  the  doctor  attended  upon  Charley,  who 
was  too  sick  to  object  to  another  medicine 
man's  treatment.  Several  of  us  then  went 
over  to  the  church  cabin  and,  by  stopping 
the  fireplace  and  putting  up  a  camp  stove, 
we  made  it  a  comfortable  hospital.  Charley 
is  there  now.  Not  a  single  Indian  has  been 
inside  our  cabin  since  Charley  was  here. 


Indian  Charley  and  Family. 


They  say  if  they  come  in  they  will  surely 
"  mucky "  (die).  We  are  very  glad  they 
have  taken  this  course,  as  heretofore  they 
have  been  too  numerous  altogether.  It 
would  be  to  our  advantage  to  keep  one  sick 
man  with  us.  WTe  have  tried  to  induce  a 
couple  of  young  men  to  cut  wood  for  Char- 
ley, but  they  declare  that  also  is  dangerous. 
Charley's  wife  dare  not  touch  an  axe  for  the 
same  reason,  so  we  have  to  chop  their  wood 
ourselves.  Wonder  if  we  will  any  of  us  be 
alive  in  the  spring  after  such  dangers. 
None  of  the  Indians  give  them  any  food,  so 
we  are  attending  to  that  matter.  We  are 
doing  our  best  to  get  them  to  overcome  these 


40 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


Inhuman  and  exasperating  superstitions. 
They  can  plainly  see  that  we  do  not  hesitate 
to  care  for  the  sick  or  the  dead. 

Tuesday  night  the  patient  was  so  sick  the 
doctor  thought  he  could  not  live  without 
especial  care,  so  we  decided  to  watch  with 
him.  Rivers  and  I  stayed  with  him  from 
one  to  five  o'clock  in  the  early  morning. 
And  it  was  an  odd  experience.  We  had 
Charley  bolstered  up  on  two  benches  placed 
side  by  side  near  the  stove.  We  kept  a  hot 
water  bag  on  his  chest  and  occasionally 
made  him  take  ptarmigan  broth  with  soaked 


A  Funeral  Cortege. 

hardtack.  Poor  fellow!  had  he  been  fed  on 
such  a  diet  while  well  and  able  to  appre- 
ciate it,  he  might  well  have  been  surprised. 
But  he  was  too  near  death  to  appreciate 
what  we  were  doing.  He  would  have  spasms 
of  coughing  and  loud  groaning,  catching  his 
breath  and  rolling  his  eyes.  Then  he  would 
fall  back  with  his  head  lying  limply  over 
his  shoulder,  breathing  short  and  with 
scarcely  perceptible  pulse.  We  thought  he 
was  about  to  die,  but  the  climax  passed  and 
he  revived.  While  we  were  taking  care  of 
him  his  wife  slept,  for  she  had  probably 
been  without  rest  for  days.  She  now  waits 
on  him  and  is  very  attentive  to  his  wants, 
and  does  the  best  she  knows  how,  being 
generally  more  intelligent  than  most  of  the 
women.  They  all  have  little  ingenuity  in 
caring  for  the  sick,  and  this  is  one  reason 
why  they  die.  Could  these  natives  be  per- 
suaded to  have  a  few  of  their  women  edu- 
cated as  nurses,  how  much  less  would,  be  the 
winter  mortality!  Had  we  time  we  could 
do  this,  but  it  would  take  years,  and  women 
beside.  We  have  no  women.  But  here  are, 


or  will  be,  all  the  abandoned  cabins  on  the 
Kowak  by  spring.  What  an  opening  for  the 
mission-inclined!  Free  hospitals  and  free 
beds  such  as  they  are.  And  they  are  not 
mean.  There  are  chairs,  too,  and  carpeted 
floors. 

In  the  meantime  Charley's  dead  child,  as 
we  supposed,  had  been  sole  tenant  of  the 
igloo  which  had  been  vacated.  This  fact 
gave  a  sudden  joy  to  C.  C.,  the  undertaker. 
As  if  by  instinct  he  scented  a  resurrection 
of  his  neglected  business,  and  it  was  with 
little  difficulty  that  he  persuaded  Charley 
to  let  him  give  it  a  Christian 
burial.  C.  C.  and  Joe  Jury 
went  up  to  see  about  it,  and 
found  that  the  ceremonies 
had  already  been  performed 
and  the  corpse  was  resting 
on  one  of  the  usual  scaffolds 
near  the  igloo.  This  did  not 
matter.  They  made  a  coffin 
of  boards,  sawed  at  our  mill, 
and  brought  the  corpse 
down  to  Penelope  Camp, 
Jury  as  coroner  and  C.  C. 
as  funeral  director.  The 
hearse  was  a  sled  and  the 
black  horses  a  couple  of 
dogs.  Of  course  Charley 
was  too  sick  to  attend  the 
funeral  services,  but  his 
woman  came  and  watched 
proceedings.  She  objected 
to  nothing  in  any  way  when  told  that 
was  the  way  white  men  buried  their  dead. 
But  she  insisted  on  putting  some  dishes  and 
half  a  sack  of  flour  in  the  grave  before  it 
was  filled.  The  flour  C.  C.  had  brought  down 
from  the  igloo,  intending  it  for  the  family  to 
eat.  But  they  couldn't  think  of  consigning 
a  dead  child  to  the  unknown  future  without 
supplying  it  with  sufficient  means  of  sup- 
port until  it  should  reach  its  uncertain  des- 
tination. So  twenty-five  pounds  of  good 
flour  was  interred  with  the  coffin.  C.  C. 
intended  this  burial  to  teach  the  natives  bet- 
ter methods  than  their  own  superstitious 
ways,  but  I  for  one  doubt  the  propriety  of 
burial  in  the  ground  in  this  country,  as  in 
summer  the  earth  is  saturated  and  covered 
with  water,  and  in  winter  it  is  frozen  to 
granite.  As  it  turned  out,  the  funeral  was 
not  a  very  extraordinary  object  lesson,  for 
not  a  single  Eskimo  attended,  save  the 
woman  mentioned,  though  they  were  espe- 
cially asked  to  come.  I  am  not  sure  that  the 
funeral  director  was  not  guilty  of  making  a 
"  grave  "  mistake  in  the  closing  ceremonies. 


GOLD  HUNTING  IN  ALASKA. 


41 


had  just  been  assuring  the  woman 
mourner  that  the  dead  would  need  no 
further  food  or  clothing  in  the  "  beyond " 
where  she  had  now  gone,  when  it  occurred 
to  him  that  a  simple  demonstration  of  sor- 
rowful affection  might  be  appropriate.  Just 
before  filling  the  grave  he  had  all  the  by- 
standers (gold  -  hunters  on  the  Kowak) 
throw  in  each  a  spruce  bough,  and  the 
woman  did  likewise.  I  suppose  he  chose 
the  spruce  in  place  of  impossible  flowers, 
but  the  solitary  mourner  must  have  consid- 
ered the  act  an  inconsistent  one  after  the 
remarks  which  had  been  made. 

The  doctor  and  I  felt  some  uneasiness  as 
to  a  special  feature  of  the  funeral  and  ac- 
cordingly acted.  Now  I  have  no  doubt  my 
friend  was  no  stranger  to  the  scheme,  but  I 
was;  nevertheless  I  went  about  my  duty 
with  the  approval  of  my  immature  con-* 
science.  We  went  out  as  if  to  take  a  stroll, 
as  was  our  frequent  custom,  and  dug  into 
the  grave,  removing  the  buried  sack  of  flour. 
We  very  carefully  tilled  in  the  grave  and  left 
all  as  it  had  been  before.  The  snow  which 
was  falling  at  the  time  soon  covered  our 
footprints  (whereupon  might  be  written  a 
poem),  and  no  Eskimo  will  ever  suspect  our 
subtle  deed.  We  put  the  flour  into  a  new 
clean  sack  and  presented  it  to  Charley  as  a 
mutual  gift.  This  was  Kowak  philan- 
throphy,  though,  if  the  natives  had  found  us 
out,  we  might  have  had  to  suffer.  The  doc- 
tor and  I  congratulate  ourselves  on  doing  a 
real  good  deed  in  a  naughty  world. 

Yesterday  Charley's  father  came  down 
from  the  village  to  pay  his  son  a  visit,  but 
he  evidently  did  not  intend  to  enter  the 
cabin,  carrying  on  his  conversation  from 
without,  very  much  as  white  folks  do  in 
cases  of  scarlet  fever  or  other  infectious  dis- 
ease. Some  of  us  happened  to  be  near  by 
chopping  wood,  and  we  tried  to  induce  him 
to  go  in.  Finally  the  woman  came  out  and 
built  a  fire,  putting  on  green  spruce  twigs 
to  make  a  dense  smoke.  The  old  man  then 
stooped  over  the  smudge,  spreading  a  blan- 
ket over  and  around  himself,  thus  confining 
the  smoke  about  his  body  for  several  min- 
utes. He  then  apparently  considered  him- 
self immune  from  any  evil  and  went  into 
the  cabin  without  further  hesitation.  This 
process  of  disinfection  is  certainly  reason- 
able, only  it  was  applied  at  the  wrong  end 
of  affairs.  He  is  a  very  old  man  and  of  no 
help  about  the  patient,  so  we  have  an  added 
charge. 

Dec,    12,    Monday. — I    shot    three    redpolls 


this  morning  over  in  the  willows.  J  then 
tried  to  utilize  our  brief  stint  of  daylight  to 
skin  them  by,  but  was  obliged  to  resort  to 
the  dim  light  of  a  candle  after  all.  We  get 
no  more  sunshine  here  in  the  valley.  At 
noon  only  the  snowy  mountain  peaks  are  il- 
luminated by  straggling  rays  from  the  tru- 
ant sun.  The  landscape  is  often  magnifi- 
cent. 1  stood  on  the  bank  several  minutes 
at  noon  admiring  the  views.  The  northern 
horizon  was  deep  blue,  and,  contrasted  with 
it,  were  the  snow-covered  ranges,  which  were 
tinged  a  rich  pink.  The  sky  above  was 
slightly  overcast,  as  if  covered  by  a  delicate 
pink  veil.  Dark  purple  shadows  crossed  the 
zenith,  but  toward  the  sun  all  was  bright 
yellow  and  gold.  The  snow-covered  river 
and  meadows  beyond  were  so  white  that 
they  seemed  to  have  a  blue  tint.  Then  the 
spruce  forests  with  their  ragged  outlines 
looked  dark  and  gloomy  as  they  were 
sketched  against  the  mountains  or  horizon. 
I  never  imagined  such  color  effects  as  are 
displayed  every  day  here.  I  do  not  think 
that  the  brightest  colors  on  an  artist's  pal- 
ette could  exaggerate  the  brilliant  hues  of 
the  sky  during  our  short  period  of  twilight. 
We  are  looking  for  a  tenant  for  our  cabin. 
Let  some  club  of  artists  engage  it  for  a  sea- 
son and  they  will  be  in  ecstasy. 

A  change  in  the  weather!  This  morning  a 
southeast  wind  sprang  up  and  sent  the  ther- 
mometer to  twenty-three  degrees  above  zero. 
At  this  hour  yesterday  it  was  thirty-four 
degrees  below.  Although  nine  degrees  be- 
low freezing,  the  air  feels  balmy  as  it  strikes 
our  faces.  This  is  the  first  day  in  two 
months  that  I  have  taken  a  walk  across  the 
river  in  an  ordinary  hat.  I  could  not  go  far, 
as  the  snow  is  badly  drifted  now.  I  saw  a 
few  redpolls  and  one  raven.  Rivers  and 
Uncle  Jimmy  dug  a  new  water-hole  to-day. 
The  ice  is  three  and  one-half  feet  thick. 

In  the  cabin  all  is  quiet  as  I  write.  The 
only  light  is  my  little  candle  -on  the  dining- 
table.  Uncle  Jimmy  is  asleep,  with  his  head 
on  his  crossed  hands,  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  table.  C.  C.  is  sitting  in  an  arm-chair  at 
the  further  end  of  the  room  probably  think- 
ing of  home.  Brownie  and  Clyde  went  over 
to  one  of  the  Iowa  camps  a  few  hours  ago. 
Some  of  the  boys  are  restless  and  delight  in 
visiting. 

Dr.  Coffin  got  word  from  Dr  Gleaves  to 
go  down  to  the  Hanson  Camp.  A  man  on 
his  way  up  the  river  from  one  of  the  lower 
camps  has  frozen  his  toes,  and  they  are  in 
such  a  condition  that  amputation  is  neces- 
sary. Dr.  Coffin  wanted  me  to  go  with  him 


42 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


to  assist,  thinking  me  cool  and  nervy,  but  I 
declined.  If  they  were  nice,  fresh,  sound 
members,  nothing  would  delight  me  better 
than  to  render  assistance,  but  I  have  a  re- 
pugnance to  dead,  decaying  flesh.  For  this 
and  other  reasons  I  never  would  skin  a  bird 
that  had  died  of  itself,  though  1  saw  it  fly 
against  a  telegraph  wire. 

I  am  studying  hard.  I  am  at  work  on  my 
physiology,  and  also  committing  to  memory 
a  "  Glossary  of  Scientific  Terms."  The 
boys  ridicule  me  for  reading  the  dictionary 
so  much,  saying  that  the  subject  is  changed 
too  often  to  make  it  profitable  reading.  I 
am  also  teaching  German  to  Rivers  and 
Brownie.  They  are  a  very  willing  class. 
Other  times  I  am  studying  bacteriology 


Native  Family  at  Home. 

with  the  doctor.  We  are  a  literary  and 
scientific  crowd.  Our  latest  argument  last 
night  was  "  How  to  Dispose  of  the  City 
Slums."  The  doctor  reads  portions  of  Josiah 
Strong's  "  New  Era "  to  us  and  then  we 
discuss  it.  The  Literary  Society  of  the  Ko- 
wak  met  Wednesday  evening  with  a  good 
attendance.  "  The  Practical  Value  of  Art " 
was  thoroughly  expounded  by  Solsbury  of 
the  Hanson  Camp,  though  he  required  two 
hours  to  do  it  and  some  of  the  art-less  ones 
grew  sleepy. 

Indian  Charley  is  nearly  well  now,  and, 
like  a  white  man  in  such  circumstances,  is 
appreciative  of  all  we  have  done  for  him. 
He  assures  us  that  his  woman  shall  sew  for 
us,  and  that  he  himself  will  bring  us  fish 
when  the  spring  opens.  We  hope  he  will 
continue  in  a  thankful  frame  of  mind.  An- 
other native  died  at  the  Hanson  Camp  of 
pneumonia.  Dr.  Gleaves  kept  him  in  his 
own  cabin  for  days  but  failed  to  restore 


him,  as  the  man  was  too  far  gone  when  he 
saw  him.  The  relatives  of  the  dead  man 
had  heard  how  C.  C.  buried  Charley's  little 
girl  in  a  box,  and  insisted  that  they,  too, 
have  a  "  calboona  "  (white  man's  burial). 
Again  was  our  undertaker  alert  and  in  his 
"  native  element,"  so  to  speak,  and  superin- 
tended the  making  of  a  coffin,  and  the  vari- 
ous other  incidentals  of  the  funeral.  The 
friends  of  the  deceased  brought  a  large 
number  of  articles,  including  a  new  gun, 
spy-glasses,  parkas,  skins,  etc.,  to  be  in- 
terred with  the  body,  but  were  finally 
dissuaded  from  thus  destroying  everything, 
save  the  dead  man's  pipe  and  tobacco 
pouch.  These  they  believed  he  could  by 
no  means  get  along  without  in  the  next 
world.  Before  the  In- 
dian died  he  begged 
several  times  of  Dr. 
Gleaves  to  kill  him  with 
a  knife,  and  thus  aid 
him  in  parting  from 
his  own  misery.  We 
are  assured  that  the 
native  medicine  men 
sometimes  do  this,  and 
at  first  glance  there 
seems  a  humane  side  to 
the  argument.  On  sec* 
ond  thought,  however, 
it  is  clear  that  the  duty 
of  a  physician  is  to 
allay  suffering,  while 
life  is  naturally  pro- 
longed, leaving  it  to 
some  other  One  to  name 
the  date  of  release.  We  hear  of  a  woman 
sick  at  the  village.  Surely  the  Eskimos  will 
soon  be  a  race  of  the  past  unless  civilization 
comes  to  their  aid. 

Dec.  19. — It  has  blown  a  gale  for  six  days 
and  we  have  scarcely  been  out  of  the  house 
in  that  time.  The  bright,  warm  cabin  is 
preferable.  We  only  hear  the  roar  of  the 
wind  outside,  and  occasionally  from  the  cor- 
ners comes  a  cold  draught  of  air  dumbly 
whistling  through  the  moss-crowded  chinks. 
The  two  Harrys  got  back  Wednesday  night 
after  a  very  hard  trip.  They  only  got  twenty 
miles  beyond  Ambler  City  before  they  were 
caught  by  the  snow,  which  shortly  was 
more  than  a  foot  in  depth  and  they  could 
not  travel.  Harry  R.  induced  a  severe 
attack  of  rheumatism  and  could  walk  only 
with  difficulty.  He  came  near  freezing  to 
death.  He  wanted  to  lie  down  and  sleep, 
and  Cox  had  all  he  could  do  to  force 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


43 


him  on  until  they  reached  a  cabin.  Harry 
R.  must  have  suffered  terribly,  for  he  is  as 
thin  and  pale  as  any  ghost  I  ever  met.  Al- 
though they  went  only  about  fifty  miles  up 
the  river,  they  heard  rumors  from  beyond 
which  knock  all  the  props  from  under  our 
recent  hopes.  Our  boys  of  the  upper  camp 
who  started  for  the  Allashook  have  re- 
turned, not  being  able  to  get  over  the  pass 
on  account  of  the  deep  snow.  Moreover  it 
is  rumored  that  the  golden  reports  from  the 
Allashook  were  invented  by  a  couple  of 
men,  one  of  whom  has  eight  hundred  pounds 
of  provisions  over  there  to  sell,  and  the  other 
wants  to  be  recorder  of  claims. 

There  are  other  reports  of  strikes  up  the 
river,  but  I  for  one  shall  pay  no  heed,  nor 
will  I  write  about  them.  Several  people 
have  been  up  from  camps  below,  trying  to 
get  loads  of  provisions.  They  are  having  a 
hard  time.  Several  have  returned  and  two 
are  waiting  for  better  weather.  It  is  really 
dangerous  traveling  now.  More  than  one 
man  has  nearly  lost  his  life.  One  came  to 
our  cabin  with  his  face  frozen,  and  did  not 
know  it  until  we  told  him.  It  is  useless  to 
think  of  traveling  in  this  biting  cold.  And 
here  comes  a  pounding  on  our  woodshed 
door.  Half  a  dozen  of  us  run  to  open  it, 
glad  that  we  have  shelter  for  any  wan- 
derer. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

DEC.  20. — A  man  has  just  come  up  from 
the  Orphans'  Home  with  bad  news. 
Poor  Uncle  S.  is  lost  and  probably 
frozen  to  death.  He  left  the  Orphans'  Home 
to  walk  to  the  Mission  a  mouth  ago  and  has 
not  been  seen  since,  although  several  parties 
have  come  up  from  the  Sound.  His  tracks 
were  seen  by  the  "  Flying  Dutchman "  on 
one  of  the  forks  of  the  Kowak  in  the 
delta.  Uncle  S.  had  our  letters,  so  these  will 
never  reach  their  destination  and  the  home 
folks  will  be  disappointed.  Possibly  a  whole 
year  with  no  news  from  the  gold-hunters  of 
the  Arctics.  I  suppose  the  body  will  be 
found  when  the  snow  melts  in  the  spring. 
Uncle  S.  was  a  nice  old  Quaker,  speaking 
"  thee  "  and  "  thou  "  habitually.  He  spent 
the  night  with  us  on  his  way  down  and  was 
very  entertaining.  He  played  a  game  of 
whist  with  us  in  the  evening,  and  it  was 
very  odd  and  amusing  to  hear  such  expres- 
sions as,  "  Now,  Joseph,  play  thy  hand 
properly."  "Is  this  my  trick  or  thine?" 
"Did  thee  play  thy  ace?"  etc.  Uncle 
Jimmy,  who  doesn't  believe  in  card  games, 


tried  to  start  an  argument  with  Uncle  S., 
but  the  latter  only  said  very  quietly,  "  One 
can  play  music  with  good  or  evil  inten- 
tions; so  I  think  with  a  simple  game  of 
whist."  I  never  saw  Mr.  S.  before,  and  it 
is  a  strange  incident  up  here  in  the  Arctics, 
to  hear  him  tell  me  about  my  father,  who,  in 
his  youth,  paid  some  considerable  devotion 
to  a  relative  of  his,  giving  me  many  pleas- 
ant reminiscences  of  both  my  father's  and 
mother's  families.  These  old-time  memories, 
told  in  the  dim  candlelight  of  the  peopled 
cabin,  interested  our  whole  company,  and 
we  all  took  to  calling  our  guest  "  Uncle, S.", 
as  much  out  of  respect  to  the  man  as  to  a 
possible  relationship  which  might  have  ex- 
isted between  himself  and  me.  But  he  is 
gone  now  and  we  shall  look  forward  to  pay- 
ing him  suitable  ceremonies  in  the  spring. 
Our  undertaker  is  preparing  to  embalm  the 
body  when  discovered.  He  was  a  Friend  of 
some  note  from  Ohio,  who  drifted  up  here, 
like  the  rest  of  us  "  world's  people,"  after 
gold. 

Our  camp  is  in  quite  a  bustle  this  week 
preparing  for  Christmas.  We  have  invited 
the  Hanson  boys  up  to  dinner  with  us,  and 
we  are  getting  ready  for  a  big  time.  The 
Saturday  before  Christmas  we  are  to  have  a 
tree  and  feed  all  the  natives  in  the  country. 
The  doctor  has  been  at  work  on  scrap  pic- 
ture books  for  the  children,  finding  no  end 
of  beautiful  chromos  on  the  tin  cans  about 
the  respective  camps,  besides  other  litho- 
graphs and  steel  engravings  from  various 
sources.  Art  is  taking  on  shape  and  form 
and  expression  under  the  magic  of  the  dye- 
tor's  touch  in  a  way  surprising  to  both  him 
and  us. 

The  literary  society  last  Wednesday  was 
the  best  so  far.  Thies,.  of  the  Los  Angeles 
Camp,  read  a  paper  on  Theosophy.  It  was 
entitled,  "  The  Home  of  Contentment,"  and 
was  very  reasonable  from  his  point  of  view, 
and  well  received  by  all.  The  doctor  gave  a 
short  talk  on  "  How  to  Care  for  a  Frost 
Bite."  This  was  of  great  practical  value  to 
all  present. 

Dec.  21. — Forty-six  degrees  below  zero  to- 
day, and  I,  for  the  fun  of  it,  walked  down 
to  the  Hanson  Camp.  It  was  not  at  all  un- 
comfortable, nothing  like  what  it  is  when 
the  wind  blows,  at  ten  degrees  below  zero. 
Normandin,  of  the  San  Jose  cabin,  has 
rigged  up  a  turning  lathe,  using  a  grindstone 
as  the  driving  wheel.  He  is  turning  out  all 
sorts  of  things  from  birch  and  spruce.  He 
has  sent  up  a  quantity  of  dolls'  heads  and 


44 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


tops  for  the  Eskimo  Christmas  tree.  One  of 
the  Los  Angeles  boys  is  carving  faces  on  the 
dolls'  heads,  to  distinguish  which  is  the  front 
side  of  the  head,  the  image  being  of  the 
same  proportions  all  around.  He  gives  them 
almond  eyes  and  flat  noses  just  like  the  na- 
tive babies. 

Now  that  the  first  snow  has  appeared,  the 
natives  are  busy  at  snowshoes,  and  several 
of  our  boys  are  experimenting  in  the  same 
line.  The  Eskimos  are  very  expert  in  this 
kind  of  work,  and  their  snowshoes  are 
models  of  symmetry  and  neatness. 

The  aurora  is  very  brilliant  some  nights 
now,  but  there  is  no  reason  visible  why,  on 


Near-by  Neighbors. 

other  nights  just  as  favorable,  as  far  as  we 
cap  discover,  there  is  none  at  all.  In  this 
extremely  cold  weather,  and  especially  dur- 
ing a  sudden  change  of  temperature,  the  ice 
in  the  river  cracks  and  groans  terrifically. 
This  morning,  as  I.was  walking  down  to 
the  Hanson  Camp,  the  phenomena  were  very 
much  in  evidence,  so  much  so  that  it  was 
gruesome  to  a  lonely  body.  At  one  place 
when  I  stepped  off  from  a  drift  of  packed 
snow  on  to  the  bare  ice,  there  came  a  series 
of  thundering  reports  like  cannon  shots,  and 
then  a  succession  of  sharp  reports  and 
creaks  and  other  awful  sounds,  that  finally 
died  away  into  the  dead  silence  of  Arctic 
darkness.  Such  combination  of  sounds,  to- 
gether with  a  reasonable  amount  of  imagin- 
ation sure  to  accompany  them,  is  startling, 
especially  if  it  is  quite  dark  and  one  is  all 
alone.  Sometimes  a  faint  crack  will  start 
others  like  it  all  around,  and  these  in  turn 
will  give  rise  to  a  rapid  fusillade  extending 
hundreds  of  yards  up  and  down  the  river. 
And  there  are  the  crunch  and  crackle  of  the 


dry  snow  under  one's  muckluks,  emitting 
various  modulations  of  sound,  from  the 
sharp  bark  of  a  dog  to  the  squeak  of  a 
mouse.  One  has  company  even  in  solitude, 
and  there  can  be  no  solitude  in  the  world 
like  this  in  the  Arctics.  Oh,  it  is  all  so  en- 
joyable and  fascinating  to  me!  It  is  like 
reading  a  book  on  a  new  subject,  for  one 
interested  in  Nature  to  visit  this  country.  I 
fear  I  will  be  sorry  to  leave  it  when  the 
time  comes.  However,  two  years  may 
change  one's  views  of  many  things. 

Dec.  29.— Four  men  from  the  Orphans' 
Home  on  their  way  up  the  river,  spent  last 
night  with  us,  and  were  interesting  com- 
pany. One  of  the  men,  a  Mr.  Thornton, 
knows  several  people  of  Seattle  and  Sitka 
whom  I  know.  He  was  at  Sitka  and  Mt.  St. 
Elias  with  the  Prince  Luigi  party  in  1897, 
and  has  an  article  in  the  "  Overland 
Monthly  "  just  out.  He  claims  to  have  seen 
the  Silent  City,  a  mirage  exactly  resembling 
a  distant  view  of  a  large  city.  Several  have 
seen  it,  and  one  man,  a  photographer  whom 
I  met  at  Juneau  two  years  ago,  claims  to 
have  a  photograph  of  it.  I  have  heard  it  in- 
timated that  the  photo  is  a  fake.  Prof.  Jor- 
dan's article  on  the  Silent  City  in  the  March, 
1898,  number  of  "  Popular  Science  Monthly  " 
is  to  the  point.  Thornton  says  there  is  no 
doubt  about  photos  and  cuts  of  the  mirage 
being  unauthentic,  but  he  affirms  that  he 
and  five  men  of  the  Prince  Luigi  party  saw 
it  just  as  he  describes  it.  We  had  a  big  dis- 
cussion on  mirages  last  night.  Yesterday  at 
the  literary,  my  paper  was  on  the  familiar 
topic,  "  What  Birds  Eat,"  and,  though  rather 
lengthy,  was  well  received.  I  think  our  men 
would  be  interested  in  almost  any  paper  that 
discussed  the  subject  of  eating.  Dr.  Gleaves 
lectured  a  week  ago  on  the  "  Cruise  of  the 
Revenue  Cutter  '  Bear '  in  1893."  He  was 
surgeon  on  board  of  her  during  that  year. 
He  is  now  president  of  the  Hanson  crowd, 
—  more  properly  speaking,  "  The  Kotzebue 
Mercantile  and  Trading  Company,"  — just  as 
we  of  the  "  Penelope  "  gang  are  the  "  Long 
Beach,  Alaska,  Mining  and  Trading  Com- 
pany." How  bulky  and  pompous  that 
sounds!  If  we  do  not  find  a  bit  of  gold 
while  we  are  here,  we  shall  have  the  satis- 
faction of  presuming  ourselves  to  be  one  of 
the  best  equipped  companies  on  the  Kowak, 
and  are  looked  up  to  very  much  as  the  Van- 
derbilts  are  in  New  York.  Sense  of  such 
distinction  as  this  tends  to  increase  the  size 
of  our  heads,  which  are  really  very  large 
indeed,  when  considered  in  their  covering  of 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


45 


wool  hood,  canvas  hood,  scarf,  etc.  We  are 
advised  to  enjoy  these  sensations  while  it  is 
feasible,  as  doubtless  when  we  reach  the 
wharf  at  San  Francisco  or  San  Pedro  on  our 
return  trip  we  may  have  to  foot  it  home 
just  like  common  tramps,  or  prodigal  sons 
who  have  wasted  their  substance  and  that 
of  our  grub-stakers  in  "  riotous  living." 

On  Christmas,  day  of  all  days,  didn't  we 
have  a  "spread"!  C.  C.  worked  at  it  for  a 
month  beforehand  and  even  stayed  up  all 
the  night  previous  •  cooking  and  compound- 
ing. I  suppose  he  will  have  forty  pages 
about  it  in  his  diary,  for  although  he  worked 
until  he  was  exhausted,  he  declares  it  the 


Christmas  Dinner. 

happiest  occasion  we  have  had.  And  the  re- 
sults of  all  our  labor  were  really  immense. 

The  ten  Hanson  boys  and  a  Mr.  Van  Dyke 
dined  with  us.  The  table  was  twenty  feet 
long,  covered  with  a  snow-white  cloth,  and 
lighted  by  two  candelabra  of  eight  candles 
each. 

These  beautiful  articles  of  use  and  orna- 
ment were  made  by  Clyde  from  a  many 
branched  birch,  and  the  effect  in  lighting 
our  large  cabin  was  brilliant.  The  menu 
was  gotten  up  by  Rivers.  It  was  a  sketch 
of  the  landscape  around  our  cabin  artistic- 
ally done  in  India  ink  on  thin  leaves  of  birch 
bark,  and  would  have  graced  any  table  in 
New  York. 

I  never  sat  at  a  table  in  New  York,  but  I 
just  know  they  never  had  a  handsomer 
menu  card.  The  toasts  were  classic,  and  in- 
cluded a  poem  by  Dr.  Coffin,  which  was  also 
of  a  classical  character.  I  cannot  refrain 
from  quoting  one  or  two  stanzas  of  the  lat- 
ter, on  account  of  their  sentiment  as  well  as 


literary    merit.     The    verses    were   well   re- 
ceived and  delivered  with  startling  effect. 

Now  just  a  few  things  I  would  like  to  say 
To  make  us  remember  this  Christmas  Day — 
It  isn't  very  often  you  dine  with  a  Coffin, 
When  the  cook  and  baker  is  an  undertaker. 

Now  and  again  on  a  bill  of  choice  fare 
You  find  such  a  dish  as  roasted  black  bear ; 
But  outside  of  the  valley  of  the  Kowak  river 
You  will  not  eat  pate  de  poisson  de  liver.* 

Or  white  Touste  bake  and  Ukluk  roast 
Are  rarely  served  without  Arctic  frost. 
On  these  hot  mince  pies  there  have  been  no 

flies, 
For  our  pastry-maker  is  an  undertaker,  etc.,  etc. 

Now  on  your  memories  we  would  make  a  mark 
With  a  plain,  simple  piece  of  brown  birch  bark  ; 
On  one  side  a  picture  of  the  place  we  are  at, 
And  a  list  of  the  stuff  that  we  ate  as  we  sat. 

This  is  by  no  means  the  whole  of  the  poem, 
but  it  is  enough  to  intimate  its  character. 
It  is  Christinas  and  we  are  ice-bound.  The 
day  of  all  the  days  in  a  man's  life,  when  he 
would  naturally  be  blue,  has  been  mutually 
cheered  by  those  who,  but  for  this  digres- 
sion, would  have  suffered  under  the  circum- 
stances. The  feast  lasted  for  two  hours,  and 
was  followed  by,  songs  and  instrumental 
music.  Cox  and  I  were  waiters,  Harry 
Reynolds  served  and  C.  C.  cooked.  After 
the  banquet  we  four  were  waited  on  by  four 
of  the  Hanson  boys,  who  took  everything 
into  their  own  hands.  Normandin  estab- 
lished himself  as  cook  and  Joe  Jury  as  head 
waiter,  with  Hays  and  Jack  Messing  under 
his  charge.  They  made  a  combination  so 
witty  and  droll  in  everything  they  did  that 
we  could  scarcely  eat  for  a  time.  We 
finally  succeeded  all  too  well  for  our  subse- 
quent comfort.  Fun  and  frolic  and  candies 
and  nuts  occupied  attention  for  an  hour,  the 
party  at  last  breaking  up  with  the  singing 
of  several  church  hymns. 

On  Saturday  before  Christmas  the  natives 
were  all  gathered  in,  as  well  as  the  whites, 
and  we  served  the  former  a  "  big  feed," 
afterwards  exhibiting  a  brilliant  Christmas 
tree  and  the  venerable  Santa  Claus.  Every- 
one took  part  in  contributing  toys  and  so 
forth  to  the  children.  There  were  dolls, 
tops,  whistles,  jumping-jacks,  cooky  people, 
nuts,  candy,  etc.  It  would  take  a  whole  note 
book  to  describe  this  part  of  the  Christmas 


''Pie  of  fish  liver. 


46 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


festivities  on  the  Kowak  —  how  the  old  peo- 
ple awkwardly  tried  to  use  knives  and  forks 
in  eating,  and  how  Santa  Glaus  was  greeted, 
and  the  wooden  dolls,  and  all  the  rest.  Some 
of  the  dolls  fell  to  our  boys.  I  am  sure  they 
reminded  us  of  home.  After  the  tree  the 
natives  danced,  the  girls  in  a  graceful  man- 
ner, and  the  boys  representing  fights  or 
something  of  the  kind,  all  the  while  being 
accompanied  by  a  beating  of  tin  cans, 
stamping  and  monotonous  singing.  There 
were  thirty  Indians  and  as  many  white  men 
present. 


Jan.  7,  1899.— Last 
week  we  were  sur- 
prised by  what  we 
took  at  first  for  an 
Arctic  apparition. 
Uncle  S.,  whom 
everyone  had  given 
up  for  dead,  arrived, 
accompanied  by  the 
missionaries  from 
Cape  Blossom,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Samms. 
They  had  come  up 
with  dog  sledges. 
Uncle  S.  had  brought 
mail  from  St. 


At  High  Noon. 


Michaels,  and  the  load  was  very  heavy, 
there  being  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  of 
mail  alone.  He  had  but  nine  dogs,  and  left 
most  of  the  mail  at  Kotzebue  Camp,  where 
the  snow  was  too  deep  to  travel  further  with 
it.  He  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Samms  pushed  on 
up  here,  and,  as  all  were  pretty  tired, 
several  of  the  boys  volunteered  to  go  down 
to  the  Kotzebue  Camp,  which  is  sixty  miles 
below  us,  for  the  mail  and  other  sled.  I  was 
a  volunteer,  along  with  several  from  the 
Hanson  Camp  as  well  as  of  this,  as  we  were 
all  anxious  to  get  the  delayed  mail.  But  a 
few  hours  later,  when  we  began  to  realize 
what  a  hard  trip  it  would  be,  everyone 
backed  down  until  only  Cox  and  I  were  left. 
These  boys  stood  on  the  burning  deck,  and 
made  believe  they  didn't  care,  especially  as 
that  brave  little  missionary  woman  had  just 
made  a  trip  over  the  same  road  of  more  than 
two  hundred  miles  and  on  foot. 

That  same  day  Joe  Cogan  and  Sam  Col- 
clough  came  along  on  their  way  to  the  Alias- 
hook.  They  had  a  team  of  eight  dogs,  but, 
after  inquiring  of  all  the  natives,  they  found 
they  could  obtain  no  more  dog's  food,  nor 
is  there  any  along  the  river  above  here.  So 
as  they  were  going  to  start  back  down  the 
next  day,  Cox  and  I  decided  to  go  with 


them.  I  did  not  relish  the  anticipation  of 
the  trip  at  all,  and,  now  that  it  is  over,  I 
must  say  that  it  is  the  hardest  journey  I 
ever  hope  to  make.  We  returned  last  night, 
having  been  on  foot  for  seven  days,  making 
one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  of  very,  very 
hard  walking. 

We  had  five  dogs  from  here;  these,  with 
Cogan's,  made  thirteen.  We  loaded  our 
blankets  and  clothing  on  Cogan's  sled  and 
hitched  up  the  thirteen  dogs  to  it  in  a  line. 
The  sled  was  a  very  heavy  one  and  the  load 
resembled  it.  It  went  all  right  until  we  got 
on  some  sand-bars  about  a  mile  below  the 
Hanson  Camp,  and  there  our  trouble  began. 
The  snow  was  light  and  the  heavy  runners 
cut  through  to  the  gravel  beneath,  making 
hard  pulling.  We  were  trying  our  best  to 
get  over  when  the  sled  struck  a  rock,  and, 
in  dragging  it  off,  two  of  the  standards 
broke  off  at  the  runner.  Of  course  we  had 
to  return,  leaving  the  load  cached  on  the 
trail.  At  the  Hanson  Camp  we  got  some 
wire  and  necessary  tools,  and  by  this  time 
it  was  afternoon.  The  San  Jose  crew  of  the 
Hanson  Camp  must  have  us  stop  for  dinner, 
and  it  was  a  fine  one,  too,  with  the  immedi- 
ate future  ahead  of  us.  Had  we  not  been 
thus  refreshed,  I  do  not  think  we  could  have 
made  the  Jesse  Lou  Camp  that  night.  Col- 
clough  declared  our  bad  luck  was  all  on  ac- 
count of  the  dogs,  thirteen  in  number,  so  we 
borrowed  two  more  and  also  another  sled. 
The  dogs  pull  much  better  in  small  teams 
and  we  now  made  good  time.  They  carry 
their  bushy  tails  curled  up  gracefully  over 
their  backs,  and  trot  along  the  trail  with 
ears  erect  and  pointed  forward,  the  very  pic- 
ture of  lively  animation.  It  was  three 
o'clock  by  the  time  we  got  our  second  start 
and  darkness  was  soon  upon  us.  Besides, 
it  was  cloudy,  with  no  moon,  and  snow  was 
falling.  Light  snow  had  fallen  to  the  depth 
of  four  or  five  inches,  obscuring  the  old  trail 
so  that  we  soon  lost  it.  And  then  our  fun 
began.  It  is  twelve  miles  from  the  Hanson 
to  the  Jesse  Lou  Camp,  and  it  was  not  until 
ten  o'clock  that  we  came  around  the  bluff  at 
the  latter  camp.  The  snow-covered  river 
bed  was  a  uniform  blank  whiteness,  bor- 
dered by  the  dark  line  of  willows  and 
spruces,  and  whoever  was  in  the  lead  had 
nothing  to  guide  him  but  kept  as  near  as  he 
could  between  the  banks. 

Occasionally  the  sleds  would  meet  and 
grapple  with  snags  and  rocks  or  sand-bars 
with  little  snow  on  them,  and  then  we 
would  have  to  strike  off  at  right  angles. 
Just  before  we  reached  our  destination  for 


GOLD    BUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


47 


the  night,  we  got  into  a  large  field  of  broken 
ice  in  which  we  floundered  about  for  half  an 
hour.  The  ice  was  in  plates  or  narrow  strips 
an  inch  or  less  in  thickness,  all  up  on  edge, 
jammed  thus  when  the  river  had  first  frozen 
over.  These  sharp  plates  mostly  leaned 
obliquely  up  stream  and  stuck  out  of  the 
snow  as  high  as  two  feet,  with  gaps  and 
holes  between.  We  had  a  dreadful  time. 
Our  sled  tipped  over  and  the  dogs  dragged  it 
on  its  side  for  several  yards  before  we  could 
stop  them  and  fix  the  pack  again.  And  then 
our  shins!  We  could 
not  see  a  thing,  and 
sometimes  a  step  would 
be  down  into  a  hole 
and  the  next  step  on  top 
of  a  sharp  edge  of  ice.  If 
I  fell  down  once  I  did 
twenty  times.  Cox  had 
never  worn  muckluks  be- 
fore, and  it  was  particu- 
larly hard  on  his  feet. 
By  the  time  we  got  to 
camp  we  were  tired 
enough  to  lie  down  any- 
where, whether  we  froze 
to  death  or  not. 

We  were  warmly  wel- 
comed at  the,  first  of  the 
three  Jesse  Lou  cabins 
which  we  struck,  and 
they  got  us  a  hot  supper 
and  fixed  our  beds  in  true 
Kowak  hospitality.  It  was  New  Year's  Eve, 
1899,  before  we  got  to  bed. 

By  nine  the  next  morning  we  were  off 
again.  The  next  halt  was  an  Indian  igloo 
thirty  miles  below.  Before  we  had  gone  a 
third  of  the  way  my  legs  began  to  pain  me 
so  that  I  walked  with  difficulty.  One  of 
them  was  strained  by  a  fall  on  the  ice  the 
night  before,  and  I  was  in  absolute  torture 
all  day.  It  was  my  first  real  suffering. 
Finally,  when  we  had  gone  about  fifteen 
miles,  as  it  was  getting  dark  and  we  did  not 
care  for  a  repetition  of  the  previous  night's 
experience,  we  made  camp.  Cogan  had  a 
tent  and  stove,  and  his  companion  was  a 
"  rustler."  A  patch  of  snow  was  soon 
scraped  off  and  the  tent  put  up.  But  it  took 
a  long  time  to  heat  the  interior  above  the 
freezing  point.  Too  much  of  the  exterior 
gets  into  a  tent. 

It  was  forty  degrees  below  zero  that  night 
and  the  next  day.  After  one  has  perspired 
a  good  deal  during  the  day  he  soon  chills 
when  he  stops,  if  he  forgets  to  put  on  more 
clothes.  I  had  a  big  reindeer  parka  and  also 


a  j>air  of  huge  deerskin  mittens.  Without 
the  latter  I  should  surely  have  frozen  my 
hands.  The  dogs  ate  up  Cox's  leather-cov- 
ered mittens,  and  I  gave  him  one  of  my 
pairs.  The  pair  I  wore  got  soaked  with 
sweat  and  then  froze  on  my  hands  as  hard 
as  a  rock.  If  I  had  not  happened  to  have 
the  deerskin  mitts  to  change  with,  I  might 
have  lost  a  few  of  my  extra  fingers.  Cox 
did  blister  his.  Colclough  got  up  some  hot 
flapjacks  and  bacon  and  we  were  filled.  I 
slept  in  the  parka  and  kept  pretty  warm. 


The  Jesse  Lou  Camp. 

The  rest  occupied  the  big  deerskin  sleeping 
bag,  which  is  the  only  safe  bed  in  an  Arctic 
camp. 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

OUR  midwinter  trip  for  the  mail  was  a 
chapter  in  our  icy  history  never  to  be 
forgotten.  We  made  the  next  fifteen 
miles  to  the  Indian  Igloo  in  good  time.  Cox 
and  I  slept  in  the  igloo,  but  the  rest  in  the 
tent.  The  fourth  day  we  made  the  last  fif- 
teen miles  to  the  Kotzebue  Camp,  where  the 
sled  and  mail  had  been  left.  Besides  the 
mail,  there  were  two  pipes  about  twenty 
feet  long  and  weighing  perhaps  one  hundred 
pounds  each.  Then  there  were  our  blankets 
and  extra  clothes  and  dog  food,  bringing 
the  return  load  up  to  four  hundred  pounds 
for  our  six  dogs.  Cogan  and  Colclough  went 
on  down  to  the  Riley  wreck  with  all  their 
belongings,  so  we  had  no  stove  or  tent  for 
the  return  trip,  trusting  to  good  weather  in 
making  the  long  stretches.  There  is  only 
one  cabin  at  the  Kotzebue  Camp,  and  this  a 


48 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


very  small  one,  but  we  managed  to  find 
room  to  lie  down  somewhere.  We  also  made 
a  big  stew  of  canned  beef,  dessicated.  pota- 
toes and  onions,  with  lots  of  pepper  and 
sage.  It  was  good  and  stimulating,  and 
upon  this  we  based  our  courage.  It  was  a 
fine  base.  We  found  the  load  pretty  heavy 
for  the  dogs,  one  of  which  wasn't  of  much 
account,  and  our  progress  was  slow.  Where 
the  snow  was  deep  and  the  trail  rough  we 
had  to  help  some  ourselves.  An  animal  with 
four  feet  has  much  advantage  over  a  human 
with  but  two.  We  made  the  return  trip  in 
three  days,  fifteen  miles  from  the  Kotzebue 
Camp  to  the  igloo,  thirty  miles  from  the 
igloo  to  the  Jesse  Lou,  and  fifteen  miles 


Winter  Travelers. 

from  there  to  the  Penelope  Camp,  making 
one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  in  seven  days. 
By  the  third  day  out  my  limbs  became  ac- 
customed to  the  hard  walking  and  my  lame- 
ness disappeared.  The  thirty-mile  stretch  we 
made  in  twelve  hours,  starting  from  the  ig- 
loo before  daylight.  The  northern  lights 
were  not  visible  during  our  return  trip,  al- 
though previously  one  could  read  by  them. 
The  cold  was  not  excessive  nor  did  we  meet 
with  any  terrible  accidents,  but  I  will  record 
that  I  have  had  enough  of  winter  travel  in 
the  Arctics.  I  am  of  the  same  mind  as  Hard- 
luck  Jimmy,  who,  after  attempting  to  reach 
the  site  of  the  "  latest  strike  "  and  getting 
caught  out  in  a  snowstorm,  said  in  his  slow, 
comprehensive  manner  of  speech:  "  It 
would  take  all  the  men  in  Ambler  City  with 
a  great  big  hawser  to  pull  me  away  from  my 
warm  cabin  and  grub  again  this  winter." 

The  thirty-mile  stretch  of  our  road  was 
long.  No  change  of  scenery  for  entertain- 
ment. When  we  got  around  one  bend  in  the 
river  it  was  just  to  plod  along  until  we  got 


to  the  next.  It  took  three  hours  for  us  to 
cover  one  straight  piece  of  trail.  We  ate 
nothing  that  day  but  a  little  frozen  bread. 
We  had  nothing  to  cook,  and  there  was  no 
time  to  cook  it  if  we  had,  and  no  dishes  or 
stove.  But  we  were  served  to  a  fine  sup- 
per at  the  Jesse  Lou.  The  dogs  did  finely  that 
day.  We  gave  them  a  feed  in  the  morning 
before  starting.  Usually  dogs  are  fed  but 
once  a  day,  at  night,  and  then  only  about  one 
pound  of  frozen  or  dried  fish  to  the  animal. 
At  night  we  let  the  dogs  loose  and,  if  at  a 
village,  they  forage  around  for  scraps  of 
anything,  which  of  course  are  extra  rations. 
They  steal  any  provisions  left  unprotected. 
They  ate  Cox's  leather  mittens,  the  thongs 
on  Cogan's  snowshoea, 

and  a  leather  gun  case. 

One  night  they  broke  into 
the  "grub-box,"  and  got 
away  with  everything  in 
it,  including  a  sack  of 
oatmeal  and  a  side  of 
bacon.  Owing  to  their 
preference  for  leather, 
we  had  to  sleep  on  the 
harnesses  and  with  our 
heads  on  the  "  grub-box." 
These  Eskimo  dogs  look 
just  like  wolves,  but  are 
docile  and  often  playful. 
They  do  not  bark  like 
civilized  dogs,  but  snarl 
and  growl.  Some  nignts 
they  would  howl  in  con- 
cert for  hours  at  a  time,  making  a  weird 
sensation  in  the  silence  of  the  ice. 

In  sledding,  the  dogs  are  tied  by  their  har- 
ness strings  alternately  to  a  straight  lead- 
rope.  One  dog  is  "  leader,"  and  he  is  the 
most  intelligent  of  the  pack.  During  the 
trip  Cox  walked  about  a  hundred  yards 
ahead  of  the  lead  dog,  now  and  then  turning 
back  and  whistling  or  calling.  I  walked  be- 
hind, keeping  the  sled  straight,  and  un- 
tangling the  team  when  it  got  mixed  up. 
Each  dog  has  a  name,  and  his  character 
qualities  become  as  well  known  to  us  as 
those  of  a  human  individual.  Ours  were 
named  Eniik,  Kubuck,  Auboon,  Nanuk  and 
Tingle.  One  day  Emik  jumped  on  to  the 
dog  that  was  not  pulling  his  share  and  gave 
him  a  sound  whipping.  The  whple  pack 
joined  in  and  I  had  to  beat  them  off  with  a 
club. 

Ordinary  animals  would  have  died  of 
broken  bones,  but  it  took  a  "  sore  chastise- 
ment "  to  bring  these  dogs  to  their  senses. 
Fights  are  frequent  and  always  mean  two 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


49 


or  three  minutes'  delay  in  untangling  the 
lines.  The  harnesses  are  provided  with 
swivels  or  else  the  lines  would  soon  become 
hopelessly  twisted. 

The  two  pipes  I  mentioned  as  part  of  the 
load,  stuck  out  behind  some  eight  feet  be- 
yond the  sled,  and  many  a  time  when  the 
dogs  slowed  up  suddenly  my  shins  would 
come  in  contact  with  the  sharp  iron  in  a 
painfully  emphatic  manner.  The  crunching 
of  the  dry  snow  under  the  sled  runners  is  a 
combination  of  sounds  in  which  one  can  but 
imagine  he  hears  familiar  voices,  and  one 
falls  to  day-dreaming  as  he  plods  along,  un- 
til he  is  surprised  by  running 
against  the  slacking  sled  or  step- 
ping into  a  hole. 

The  two  nights  we  spent  in 
the  Eskimo  igloo  were  interest- 
ing in  detail.  On  the  way  down 
I  was  so  tired  that  I  paid  little 
attention  to  anything,  curling 
up  and  thankfully  sleeping.  On 
the  return  trip  we  made  the 
igloo  just  at  dusk.  The  trail 
was  poor  and  the  snow  deep  and 
the  load  heavy,  so  that  we  had 
made  scarcely  more  than  two 
miles  to  the  hour.  When  we  got 
within  sight,  of  the  igloo  the 
dogs  pricked  up  their  ears,  as  is 
their  wont,  and  started  forward 
at  an  increasing  gait.  Dogs 
will  sometimes  smell  a  camp 
long  before  it  comes  into  view, 
and  their  quickened  pace  testi- 
fies to  their  hope  of  food.  When 
our  team  rushed  up  to  the  igloo,  , 
we  followed  at  a  trot  behind,  ' 
and  nearly  all  the  inmates  hur- 
ried out,  curious  to  see  us.  These  poor 
people  are  very  hospitable,  and  at  once 
invited  us  inside.  We  did  not  enter, 
however,  until  everything  was  attended 
to,  for,  after  one  has  straightened  out 
to  rest  before  a  warm  fire,  it  is  very 
hard  to  get  up  and  crawl  out  again  on  stiff- 
ened limbs  to  attend  to  duties  easier  per- 
formed before  one  settles  down.  The  native 
boys  helped  us  to  untie  knots,  and  soon  the 
dogs  were  loose,  scurrying  everywhere  for 
bits  of  anything  devourable,  and  frequently 
having  a  savage  fight  over  some  imaginary 
tidbit.  Everything  but  the  two  iron  pipes, 
which  we  trusted  the  dogs  would  not  eat, 
was  deposited  on  the  scaffold  for  the  night. 
This  scaffold  is  a  necessary  feature  of  every 
igloo.  It  consists  of  a  platform  of  poles  and 
boughs  raised  about  eight  feet  above  the 


ground  and  supported  on  four  posts.  On 
this  are  stored  all  the  fish,  skins,  nets,  har- 
nesses, sleds,  kyaks,  and,  in  fact,  every 
article  not  needed  for  immediate  use  in  the 
igloo. 

After  the  dogs  were  fed,  we  took  a  blanket 
apiece  and  crawled  into  the  igloo.  We  were 
motioned  to  a  vacant  place  on  one  side, 
where  we  stretched  out  as  far  as  the  limits 
of  the  room  permitted.  This  igloo  was  built 
like  a  Sioux  wick-i-up.  Long,  slender  poles 
are  fastened  into  the  ground  at  one  end, 
bent  over  and  lashed  with  thongs  on  the  op- 
posite side.  These  are  planted  about  a  foot 


Native  Igloo,  with  Scaffold  for  Stores. 


apart  all  around,  until  the  whole  completed 
frame  is  like  an  inverted  hemisphere.  Over 
this  are  fastened  thicknesses  of  spruce  bark 
stripped  from  the  trees  in  sheets  one  or  two 
feet  wide  and  twice  as  long.  At  the  top  a 
circular  opening  is  left,  a  foot  in  diameter, 
for  the  exit  of  smoke.  The  whole  structure 
is  covered  and  packed  with  six  inches  of 
snow,  which  effectually  keeps  out  every  bit 
of  wind  and  incidentally  every  particle  of 
fresh  .air,  except  what  steals  in  through  the 
smoke-hole  and  door  jvhen  they  are  open. 
The  entrance  is  closed  by  several  strips  of 
sail-cloth  attached  above  and  weighted,  so 
that  it  always  hangs  over  the  opening  and 
completely  covers  it.  When  one  enters  he 
must  get  down  on  his  hands  and  knees  and. 
lifting  up  a  corner  of  this  canvas  door,  crawl 
through  the  passage.  The  door  falls  .bad: 


50 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


into  its  place  behind.  The  passageway  is  so 
narrow  and  low  that  a  large  man  can  with 
difficulty  crawl  through.  The  floor  inside, 
with  the  exception  of  a  space  around  the 
fireplace,  is  carpeted  with  slender  willow 
saplings,  laid  parallel  and  fitted  closely  to- 
gether, forming  a  fairly  good  paving  or 
heavy  matting,  sufficient  to  protect  the  occu- 
pants from  direct  contact  with  the  ground. 
A  few  old  deerskins  are  spread  out  where 
the  elders  sleep.  The  space  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  fireplace  from  the  door  is  not 
occupied  by  anyone,  but  is  filled  with  cook- 
ing utensils,  the  water  bucket  with  its 
wooden  dipper,  carved  wooden  bowls,  and 
birch  bark  baskets.  In  this  igloo  — about 


Getting1  Supper  Under  Omiak-puk. 

twelve  feet"  in  diameter  —  fifteen  people  live 
almost  all  the  time,  only  going  outside  when 
they  must  for  wood  and  water.  No  books  to 
read,  no  politics  to  discuss,  no  school  to  get 
ready  for,  and  no  visiting  to  do.  Ori.ce  in 
this  residence,  we  were  allotted  a  space  next 
to  the  oldest  man  of  the  igloo.  We  were  con- 
tent with  our  small  lot,  for  we  were  tired 
and  hungry. 

The  light  was  furnished  from  seal  oil.  A 
plate  of  this,  with  a  pinch  of  moss  for  a 
wick,  furnished  the  light.  The  penetrating 
smell  of  burning  seal  oil  is  very  stifling,  and 
a  white  man  can  hardly  stand  it.  Consider- 
ing our  distinguished  character,  these  people 
dispensed  with  the  oil  and  lighted  candles 
instead,  which  I  suppose  had  been  obtained 
from  the  whites  by  tr^ade.  Our  scanty  grub- 
bag  next  claimed  our  attention  and,  consid- 
ering it  good  policy  under  the  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances, we  distributed  the  remainder  of 
the  hardtack,  which  had  been  reduced  to 
crumbs,  among  our  hosts,  who  watched  our 
every  movement.  We  also  had  a  little  flour, 
but,  as  we  had  no  means  of  cooking  it,  we 


presented  that  also  to  the  woman  on  the  far 
side  of  the  igloo,  who  was  apparently  the 
mistress  of  ceremonies;  for,  although  three 
other  women  were  in  the  house,  she  carried 
all  the  water,  chopped  all  the  wood  and  pre- 
pared the  meals.  We  made  our  supper  from 
a  can  of  corned  beef  and  a  loaf  of  bread, 
baked  for  us  at  the  Kotzebue  camp.  Seeing 
our  destitution,  with  true  American  hospi- 
tality the  woman  before  mentioned  left  the 
igloo  and  shortly  returned  with  a  birch-bark 
basket  about  eighteen  inches  long  by  six 
inches  wide  full  of  a  frozen  mass  of  blue- 
berries. This  was  evidently  a  "  company 
dish,"  the  best  in  her  possession.  She  de- 
tached a  large  chunk  of  the  preserves  and 
placed  it  in  a  frying  pan  over  the  fire.  As  it 
melted  into  individual  berries  she  stirred  the 
mixture  constantly.  After  the  mess  was 
thoroughly  melted  she  passed  the  pan  over 
to  me,  and,  by  the  smell  which  arose,  I  was 
aware  that  the  blueberries  were  put  up  in 
seal  oil,  as  a  sort  of  salad,  I  suppose.  Cox 
declared  his  appetite  lacked  severity  suf- 
ficient to  tempt  him  to  even  taste  the  com- 
pound, but  I  was  hungry  enough  to  eat  any- 
thing, and  partly  because  I  did  not  want 
to  disappoint  the  motherly  old  woman, 
who  had  taken  all  that  trouble  to  treat 
us  to  the  greatest  luxury  possible,  I  ate 
with  apparent  relish.  I  did  no  more  nor 
less  than  hundreds  of  my  people  do  at 
any  civilized  banquet  or  even  a  meal  at 
a  friend's,  when  they  pretend  to  like  oys- 
ters or  shrimps  or  anything  from  sheer 
politeness,  the  which  they  thoroughly  de- 
test. I  got  away  with  the  entire  panful, 
along  with  a  slab  of  dried  salmon  given  to 
me  by  the  old  man.  These  kind  people  evi- 
dently looked  upon  me  as  a  good-natured, 
hungry  little  boy  whom  they  enjoyed  enter- 
taining out  of  their  natural  hospitality  of 
heart.  I  have  no  doubt  my  mother  will  long 
to  grasp  that  old  Eskimo  woman's  hand  and 
possibly  kiss  her  ugly  but  kind  features,  for 
the  sake  of  her  goodness  to  her  "  wandering 
boy." 

Truly  the  fish  was  not  at  all  bad,  and  I 
secured  a  piece  for  my  lunch  the  next  day. 
It  proved  to  be  just  the  thing,  as  I  could 
chew  it  while  tramping  along,  and  one  does 
not  need  water  to  drink  with  it.  The  native 
next  to  me  in  the  igloo  showed  me  how  to 
strip  the  skin  from  the  piece  of  dried  salmon 
and  prepare  it  for  eating.  He  held  the  skin 
side  over  the  fire  until  it  began  to  crinkle 
and  writhe.-  The  oil  which  it  contains  is 
thus  melted  and  the  dainty  rendered  more 
toothsome. 


GOLD  HUNTING  IN  ALASKA. 


51 


After  our  hunger  was,  with  these  native 
articles  of  food  besides  our. own  bread  and 
corned  beef,  sufficiently  subdued,  we 
stretched  out  as  far  as  possible  in  our 
limited  space.  Cox  was  soon  asleep.  We 
agreed  that  in  order  to  make  the  thirty  miles 
next  day  it  would  be  necessary  to  start  be- 
fore daylight,  as  there  was  then  a  waning 
moon  to  light  us  a  little.  Cox  was  especially 
impressed  with  this  idea,  and  went  to  sleep 
determined  to  wake  up  the  minute  the  moon 
rose,  which  would  be  about  five  in  the  morn- 
ing. He  had  scarcely  been  asleep  ten  min- 
utes, and  I  had  not  dozed  off  yet,  when  he 
started  up,  and  I  had  all  I  could  do  to  per- 
suade him  that  the  night  had  hardly  begun. 

Later,  and  until  we  finally  did  start,  he 
woke  me  several  times  and  would  go  out  and 
look  for  the  moon,  which  he  was  sure  was 
behind  the  schedule  time.  We  could  not  see 
the  trail  until  it  did  appear,  so  each  time  he 
would  return  and  drop  to  sleep  again.  This 
crazy  conduct  on  his  part  vexed  me  not  a 
little,  as  I  wanted  to  sleep,  being  prevented 
by  other  disturbances  besides  his  own. 

After  we  had  eaten  our  supper  and  got 
settled  down,  the  other  people  ate  theirs, 
which  consisted  entirely  of  dried  salmon. 
This  was  eaten  raw,  each  mouthful  being 
chewed  for  a  long  time.  The  young  men  say 
that  this  kind  of  diet  is  what  makes  the 
Kowak-mitts  (natives  of  the  Kowak  valley) 
so  strong.  I  must  confess  to  the  apparent 
truth  of  this  statement,  for  the  whole  house 
knows  it  when  an  Eskimo  enters;  that  is,  if 
there  hasn't  been  one  around  long  enough 
to  have  allowed  an  airing.  Even  the  pretty 
girls  are  so  fishy  that  a  tenderfoot  in  this 
land  can  scarcely  endure  their  remote  pres- 
ence. The  salmon  is  cured  during  the  sum- 
mer and  kept  on  scaffolds,  being  brought 
down  only  as  it  is  required  for  use.  The  old 
men  soak  it  up  in  water  a  while  before  eat- 
ing it. 

Directly  after  their  simple  supper  the  na- 
tives began  arranging  themselves  in  their 
proper  nooks  in  any  place  where  there  was 
room  enough  to  lie  down.  The  men  and  older 
women  and  all  the  children  in  the  igloo  wore 
nothing  but  skin  pants,  being  entirely 
naked  from  the  waist  up.  At  night,  how- 
ever, they  put  on  their  skin  parkas,  as  the 
temperature  in  the  room  falls  quickly  when 
the  fire  goes  out.  When  all  are  ready,  the 
woman  of  the  household  goes  outside  and 
covers  up  the  smoke-hole  in  the  top  of  the 
house  with  an  old  skin,  and  besides  piles 
snow  over  it  thickly  so  not  a  particle  of  cold 
can  get  in.  The  fire  in  the  center  of  the 


room  has  meanwhile  been  allowed  to  burn 
down  to  a  bed  of  coals,  so  there  is  no  smoke 
or  flame  left.  In  returning  the  woman  also 
tightly  closes  the  doorway.  If  any  air  is  get- 
ting in  anywhere  one  can  see  the  stream  of 
dense  vapor  caused  by  the  extremely  cold 
outside  air  striking  the  warm,  moist  air  of 
the  interior.  If  the  door  is  left  the  least  bit 
ajar  a  stream  of  this  vapor  is  seen  flowing 
along  the  floor  straight  into  the  fire.  If 
one's  feet  meet  this  current  of  cold  they 
soon  chill.  After  the  coals  are  heaped  to- 
gether and  all  other  preparations  for  the 
night  completed,  the  light  is  extinguished 
and  sleep  reigns.  For  a  while  after  the  igloo 
has  been  closed  the  air  seems  extremely  hot 
and  stifling  and  the  odors  are  terrific.  In 
an  hour  or  two  the  fire  is  dead  and  the  air 
cools  off. 

My  night's  rest  might  have  been  quite 
sound  but  for  certain  disturbances.  I  had 
just  dozed  off  after  being  aroused  by  Coxie, 
when  one  of  the  men  began  to  sing  some 
Eskimo  ditty  in  a  weird  monotone.  He 
would  drone  it  through  and  stop,  and  I 
would  just  be  dropping  off  to  sleep  when  he 
would  start  it  up  again.  He  continued  for 
fully  half  an  hour,  and  I  was  so  thoroughly 
tried  by  it  that  I  could  have  choked  the  fel- 
low. The  natives  all  slept  soundly  and 
probably  considered  it  a  lullaby.  Another 
time  I  was  awakened  by  the  old  man  next 
to  me  singing  in  a  high,  jerky  voice.  He 
got  up,  all  the  time  singing,  and  went  over 
to  the  old  woman,  who  was  saying  some- 
thing to  him.  Then  followed  a  series  of  the 
most  diabolical  noises  —  hisses,  swishes, 
grunts,  groans,  guttural  rattles  and  so  forth. 
It  hardly  seemed  possible  that  some  of  these 
sounds  could  originate  in  a  human  throat, 
but  as  they  were  without  intermission,  I  sup- 
pose they  did.  This  was  finally  interrupted 
by  a  loud,  ripping  swish,  as  if  something  had 
been  forcibly  torn  up.  All  was  then  quiet, 
and  the  old  man  returned  and  lay  down 
next  to  me.  I  did  not  know  but  he  would 
practice  his  incantations  upon  me  next,  but 
my  fears  were  groundless.  During  the 
creepy  performance  it  was  pitch  dark,  and 
I  could  almost  imagine  we  were  about  to  be 
sacrificed  in  some  heathen  rite.  I  asked  one 
of  the  young  men  what  was  the  matter,  and 
he  told  me  that  the  woman  had  a  pain  in  her 
stomach,  probably  from  swallowing  her  sal- 
mon in  too  much  haste,  and  the  old  man 
had  cured  her  by  driving  the  demon  out 
This  practice  is  like  that  I  have  heard  my 
father  say  existed  among  the  Comanche 
Indians  in  the  Southwest. 


52 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


At  last,  after  one  of  his  frequent  observa- 
tions, Coxie  reported  that  the  moon  was  up. 
The  candle  was  lighted  and  we  soon  had  all 
our  traps  out  of  the  igloo.  Our  mitts,  scarfs, 
socks,  etc.,  had  been  hung  up  to  dry.  The 
dryer  one's  clothes  are,  the  warmer  he 
keeps.  Rain  is  not  necessary  to  dampness 
either,  perspiration  every  walking  moment 
being  free  and  persistent.  We  soon  had  the 
dogs  hitched  up,  all  but  one,  Nanuk,  who 
caused  us  considerable  delay  by  running  off 
into  the  brush  and  hiding  himself.  Finally 
after  several  of  the  natives  had  helped,  he 
was  secured  and  our  pack  arranged. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

GAMP  PENELOPE,  Jan.  10,  1899.— Yes- 
terday  morning  Uncle   S.   and   Samms 
started  on  up  the  river  with  their  dog 
sleds  and  mail.    C.  C.  and  Cox  went  with 
them.    They  hope  to  reach  the  Upper  Pen- 


The  Departure. 

elope  Camp  and  learn  as  much  as  they  can 
of  the  outlook  and  the  wish  of  the  men  as  to 
segregation  in  the  spring.  They  will  have 
no  easy  trip  of  it,  but  C.  C.  seems  to  covet 
experience  in  winter  traveling,  and  I  think 
he  will  be  the  recipient  of  it  this  time. 

When  Cox  and  I  got  in  with  the  mail,  all 
the  neighbors  crowded  into  our  cabin  and 
there  was  general  excitement  until  the  sacks 
were  gone  through  and  the  fate  of  each  de- 
termined. Nearly  everyone  got  letters.  The 
latest  news  was  dated  August  22,  and  we 
had  full  accounts  as  to  the  probable  closing 
of  the  war.  I  received  six  letters.  Down  at 
Kotzebue  Camp  I  opened  only  one  of  these, 
the  one  of  the  latest  date,  and  found  it  so 
bright  and  jolly  that  my  spirits  were  at  the 


highest  pitch  all  the  way  home.  Moral:  Folks 
at  home,  write  cheery  letters  to  absent  ones 
wherever  they  may  be.  The  snow  may  be 
deep,  and  the  dogs  may  be  mad,  and  the 
trail  rough. 

We  are  beginning  to  talk  about  "going 
home."  and  of  the  probability  of  our  cold 
welcome  among  our  town's  folk,  who  will 
possibly  ridicule  us  as  "  fake  gold-hunters," 
"prodigal  sons,"  and  all  that.  I  was  read- 
ing an  article  in  one  of  the  magazines  last 
night,  proving  that  an  ambitious  poor  man 
nowadays  has  far  more  chances  for  success 
in  any  line  than  a  rich  one,  and  that  "  ex- 
treme poverty  does  not  debar  a  man  other- 
wise endowed,  from  entrance  into  the  best 
society  in  the  land."  This  in  America  of 
course.  So  we  are  saying  in  concert,  while 
the  latest  news  of  gold  fades  into  vapor, 
"  Poverty  is  a  blessing."  It's  a  comfort  to 
look  at  it  in  that  light  anyway.  But  it  does 
not  help  some  of  our  boys  over  the  blues. 
Several  put  all  they  had  into  this  venture, 
and  on  -  their  return 
are  destined  to  start 
all  over  again  at  day's 
work.  I  must  own 
that  I  am  myself  the 
victim  of  some  reluct- 
ance to  return  with 
empty  gold-pan,  and 
the  old  story  of  put- 
ting "  gold  into  the 
fire  and  behold  there 
came  forth  this  calf  " 
comes  to  me.  We  may 
have  sufficient  sup- 
plies to  keep  us  in 
Alaska  another  year. 

Uncle  S.  is  one  man 
that  is  making  a  suc- 
cess. He  charges  fifty 

cents  for  each  letter  or  package  he  brings  up 
the  river.  My  bill  would  have  been  six  dol- 
lars at  that  rate,  but  of  course  my  trip  down 
more  than  met  that.  The  doctor  got  twen- 
ty-four letters  and  many  papers.  Don't 
know  whether  he  has  settled  his  bill  or  not. 
Mrs.  Samms  is  with  us  until  the  return  of 
Mr.  Samms,  which  will  be  not  less  than 
three  weeks  if  the  weather  is  good.  It  seems 
odd  to  have  a  lady  in  the  cabin,  but  she  is 
very  agreeable  and  we  like  her  company. 
We  modify  our  usual  reckless  behavior  and 
serve  her  in  every  possible  way. 

She  is  teaching  a  class  of  children  at  the 
mission  cabin.  Mr.  Samms  is  on  an  errand 
to  get  a  census  of  native  population  and  to 
note  the  condition  of  the  Kowak  Eskimos. 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


53 


There  is  likely  to  be  a  famine  among  them 
before  spring,  as  they  have  spent  too  much 
time  in  watching  the  whites  this  year,  neg- 
lecting to  fish  and  hunt  at  the  season. 
There  is  now  little  game  in  the  country  ^  and 
by  next  winter  they  will  be  destitute  in 
clothing  as  well  as  food  unless  they  receive 
help  from  outside. 

Jan.  11,  6  a.  m. — The  doctor  and  I  have 
just  got  out  of  bed,  hours  before  the  usual 
time  of  rising.  We  think  we  can  write  bet- 
ter, or  read,  early  in  the  morning  before 
everybody  is  up  and  story-telling  and  mak- 
ing noises  in  the  room.  When  we  are  all 
active  it  is  difficult  to  think. 

The    north    wind    is    blowing    a         

gale  again,  and  its  steady  roar 
through  the  spruces  outside,  ac- 
companied by  the  monotonous 
whisper  or  undertone  whistling 
doAvn  the  stovepipe,  gives  one  a 
lonesome,  dreary  feeling.  I  almost 
shivered  just  now  all  on  account 
of  the  sounds,  although  there  is  a 
blazing  fire  in  the  heater  and  the 
whole  cabin  is  warm  and  comfort- 
able. 

We  have  had  no  trouble  in  keep- 
ing warm.  In  the  corners  near 
the  ground  there  is  always  plenty 
of  frost,  and  if  one  sits  or  stands 
long  in  such  a  locality  his  feet  get 
cold.  But  out  in  the  room  it  is  al- 
ways pleasant.  We  have  not  put 
in  double  windows,  as  we  ex- 
pected to  do,  there  being  no  need 
of  them.  The  single  large  sheet  of  glass  in 
each  window  is  all-sufficient,  though  the 
frost  collects  in  very  thick  layers  on  the 
inside.  This  is  probably  one  reason  why  it 
is  so  warm.  We  took  out  the  window  panes 
the  other  day  and  melted  off  the  ice.  It  was 
nearly  two  inches  thick  on  the  lower  part. 
The  panes  are  over  two  feet  square,  and 
the  frost  work  on  them  is  beautiful  to  look 
at.  The  designs  are  constantly  changing. 
Sometimes  great  fern  fronds  extend  from 
the  bottom  clear  to  the  top,  and  then  another 
time  the  pattern  is  small,  like  delicate  moss. 
When  it  is  thick  one  can  see  cities  and 
mountain  crags  and  almost  anything  besides, 
if  his  imagination  is  alert. 

The  days  are  perceptibly  longer  now  and 
yesterday  sunlight  touched  the  tops  of  the 
trees  near  the  cabin.  But  it  will  be  many 
weeks  before  the  sun  has  sufficient  effect  to 
make  any  change  in  the  temperature.  Mrs. 
Sanmis  says  that  February  is  our  coldest 


month.  We  are  getting  along  quite  harmo- 
niously in  domestic  affairs  now.  C.  C.'s 
term  of  office  as  culinary  chief  expired  at 
Christmas,  and  Rivers  was  elected  -to  take 
his  place,  with  myself  as  assistant.  So  I  am 
back  at  my  old  stand  again.  There's  one 
thing  certain  —  we  shall  have  less  pies  now. 
I  think  I  shall  be  able  to  obtain  a  place  as 
cook  in  a  restaurant  when  I  go  back  to  the 
States  if  nothing  better  turns  up.  Our  sup- 
ply of  some  articles  is  getting  short.  We  are 
going  slow  on  mush  and  sugar,  and  the  flour 
will  not  last  longer  than  April  at  the  rate 
we  are  using  it  now.  However,  our  motto  is 
to  eat  while  we  have  the  means,  and  go 


Some  of  Mrs.  Samms'  Pupils. 

without  when  it  is  gone.  Of  course  there  is 
plenty  in  the  "  Penelope,"  if  she  is  safe.  We 
have  a  great  deal  of  company  at  meals. 
Everyone  traveling  on  the  river  stops  in, 
either  for  a  single  meal  or  for  the  night. 
We  like  to  be  hospitable,  and  one  has  to  be 
in  this  country.  Wherever  our  own  boys 
have -been,  up  or  down  the  river,  they  are 
treated  royally  at  every  camp,  as  I  can  per- 
sonally testify. 

We  do  not  feed  the  Indians  any  more  at 
all,  and  it  is  better  for  them.  They  have 
become  so  dependent  upon  the  whites  that 
they  do  not  work  for  themselves  any  more. 
When  they  might  be  fishing  or  trapping, 
they  are  hanging  around  our  cabins.  They 
do  not  visit  us  as  often  now  as  in  the  fall. 
Rivers  and  I  send  them  outside  whenever 
meal-time  comes,  and  they  are  beginning  to 
learn. '  We  must  do  this  or  suffer  ourselves 
from  hunger  in  a  late  spring. 

Uncle  S.  reported  that  he  found  the  "  Pen- 


54 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN   ALASKA. 


elope "  in  a  safe  place  in  a  small  inlet  in 
Escholtz  Bay.  We  received  letters  from  the 
captain  and  Jett  and  Fancher.  They  have 
been  on  a  sled  trip  up  to  the  Buckland  River, 
but  with  no  success.  However,  they  are  in 
good  spirits,  hoping  that  something  will  be 
found  before  spring.  Rumors  reach  us  as  to 
"  finds  "•  on  the  Noatak  River,  but  we  do  not 
pay  the  least  attention  to  them.  The  "  Fly- 
ing Dutchman "  dropped  in  on  us  again 
yesterday.  He  is  a  "  rustler,"  and  will  make 
it  pay  under  any  circumstances.  He  has 
more  grit  than  all  the  rest  of  the  men  on 
the  Kowak.  He  has  a  partner  now  in  carry- 
ing mail,  and  a  sled  with  dogs. 

Jan.  15,  Sunday,  6  a.  m.— I  am  up  alone. 
The  doctor  is  a  great  fellow  to  lie  in  bed, 


On  the  River  Bank. 

excepting  on  rare  occasions,  when  he  is  very 
smart.  He  even  takes  his  afternoon  nap 
regularly,  and  then  sleeps  ten  hours  at 
night.  The  wind  is  blowing  at  the  same 
rate  it  has  been  going  for  a  week.  One  day 
it  was  a  fearful  storm.  It  blew  so  one  could 
scarcely  stand  up  against  it,  and  the  snow 
and  sand  were  driven  along  in  blinding 
blasts. 

We  can  easily  see  now  how  the  hills 
and  dunes  on  the  south  side  of  the  Kowak 
valley  are  formed.  It  blows  with  such  force 
that  all  the  snow  is  taken  off  from  the  sand- 
bars, and  all  the  loose  sand  as  well,  and 
finally  the  coarse  gravel  is  driven  off  on  to 
the  ice,  where  it  travels  until  it  reaches  the 
south  bank  of  the  river,  where  drifts  ten  feet 
deep  have  been  formed  the  last  week.  The 


natives  tell  us  that  in  two  moons  from  this 
the  wind  will  blow  harder  than  ever,  and 
that  it  will  be  much  colder.  Yesterday  we 
piled  more  sand  and  brush  around  the  north 
and  east  side  of  the  house.  The  wind  had 
carried  away  a  good  deal  of  the  original 
banking.  The  doctor  was  quite  snowed  into 
his  bed  one  morning.  We  couldn't  find  the 
place  of  entrance,  but  it  is  now  doubtless 
covered. 

Yesterday  was  washing-day  for  me  person- 
ally.   We  do  our  washing  one  at  a  time  for 
reasons  of  necessity.    I  had  a  large  wash, 
as  a  part  of  it  had  been  accumulating  since 
August  of  last  year.    It  is  our  habit  to  put 
off  this  very  disagreeable  duty  as  long  as  we 
decently  can.    I  put  in  two  faithful  hours 
over  the  tub  until  my  knuckles  were  sore 
and  my  back  so  lame  I 
could    only    with    diffi- 
culty straighten  myself. 
I   succeeded  at  last   in 
"  doing "    ten    pairs    of 
socks,    seven    handker- 
chiefs, three  towels  and 
a  suit  of  underwear,  be- 
sides   other    .things.     I 
can     now     sympathize 
most  heartily  with  the 
washerwoman    of    his- 
tory. I  have  the  clothes 
drying    on    the    rafters 
above    the    stovepipe. 
The    union    suit    is    an 
awkward    thing    to 
handle    in    washing."    I 
would    rather    tackle   a 
blanket.    A  blanket  has 
not  two  arms  and  two 
legs   to    be    continually 
in  the  way.    I  could  not 

wring  it  out  very  well,  and  after  hanging  it 
up  to  dry  it  dripped  for  several  hours,  sprink- 
ling anyone  who  ventured  under  it.  Uncle 
Jimmy  sat  down  comfortably  to  read  a  good 
book,  but  he  chanced  to  be  in  the  line  of 
gravity,  and  a  splash  on  top  of  his  bald  head 
prompted  him  to  address  some  words  to  me. 
It  was  only  a  few  days  ago  that  Uncle 
Jimmy's  washing  was  "  out,"  and  I  fre- 
quently had  the  edifying  sensation  of  a 
sloppy,  dripping  drawers  leg  slapping  me  in 
the  face  as  I  moved  about  the  kitchen  stove 
in  my  culinary  duties.  We  have  to  be  pa- 
tient and  charitable  when  it  is  washing 
day,  and  other  days.  I  will  say  that  our  do- 
mestic life  is  not  often  marred  by  so  small  a 
trifle  as  water  dripping  from  a  drawers  leg. 
If  we  were  sensitive  to  little  things  we 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


55 


would  find  frequent  opportunity  for  grum- 
bling. 

Jan.  23,  9  a.  m.— Just  got  through  with 
breakfast.  Our  menu  is  much  the  same 
these  days  —  corn-meal  mush,  biscuit  or 
flapjacks,  hash,  bacon,  flour  gravy  and  cof- 
fee. Kowak  hash  is  a  work  of  art,  and  is 
deserving  of  especial  mention.  It  is  a  sort 
of  literary  review  of  the  previous  day's 
dishes.  This  morning  it  was  simpler  than 
usual,  and  consisted  of  only  split  peas,  corn- 
meal  mush,  bacon,  rice,  toasted  bread,  salt- 
horse  and  beans,  seasoned  to  taste.  And 
yet  the  "  beasts  "  claim  their  appetite  is  im- 
paired! Needn't  have  eaten  up  all  the  lux- 
uries the  first  thing. 

Several  of  the  boys  like  to  go  out  visiting 
the  other  camps  in  the  evening,  and  not  get 
home  till  morning  "  or  thereabouts."  I  am 
a  "  good  little  boy,"  and  go  to  bed  at  nine 
and  get  up  at  six.  I  have  the  breakfast 
ready  shortly  after  eight,  and  then  the  fun 
begins,  getting  the  boys  up.  They  want  to 
lie  in  bed  till  twelve,  and  Uncle  Jimmy  joins 
us  in  making  it  so  uncomfortable  for  them 
they  prefer  rising. 

Harry  Reynolds  is  washing  to-day.  He 
has  just  discovered  that  he  has  made  a  sad 
mistake.  He  dumped  his  bundle  of  clean 
socks  into  the  tub  instead  of  the  soiled  ones. 
General  laughter  at  his  expense.  But  H. 
wrings  them  out  "  dryly."  He  knows  the 
laugh  will  not  be  on  him  next  washing 
day. 

The  jolly  missionary's  wife  is  singing  in 
my  ear  something  .  about  "  Darling  Joe." 
Now,  she  thinks  because  she  happens  to  be 
married  that  I  must  be  much  younger  than 
she  —  in  fact  "  quite  a  lad."  In  point  of  fact 
I  am  the  older.  It  was  my  turn  to  shave 
yesterday,  and  I  did  so,  consequently  my 
chin  is  smarting.  It  is  an  unnatural  pro- 
cess, and  I  think  should  be  prohibited  by 
act  of  congress. 

I  have  been  reading  "  A  Scientific  Demon- 
stration of  the  Future  Life,"  by  Hudson.  It 
interested  me  very  much,  and  the  doctor 
and  I  got  into  many  a  warm  argument  over 
it.  It  is  a  strange  fact  that  we  never  argue 
upon  subjects  we  agree  upon.  I  always 
stick  to  my  sharp  point  and  he  to  his.  Our 
discussions  are  usually  on  some  biological 
topic,  and  the  rest  of  the  men  do  not  know 
what  we  are  talking  about.  One  night,  after 
a  long  argument  in  which  I  would  not  yield 
a  single  point  when  the  doctor  thought  I 
ought,  he  wrote  me  the  following 


ODE. 

Mon  ami.  Joe, 
A  thing  I  know 
Is,  you  are  Joe. 
Why  this  is  so 
I  do  not  know ; 
But  well  I  know 
You  ic ill  be  Joe, 
Until  you  go 
From  earth  below. 

But  even  so, 
My  young  friend  Joe, 
Before  you  go 
You'll  not  be  Joe, 
(The  same  /  know) 
For  you  will  grow 
Both  old  and  slow, 
And  fall  below 
To  what  you'd  grow 
In  things  to  know 
Of  what  is  so. 

On  things  you  know 
And  say  are  so, 
Hard  winds  will  blow, 
And  light  will  grow, 
And  change  them  so 
You  will  not  know 
That  they  are  so. 

And  then,  by  Joe, 
You'll  be  more  slow 
To   say  you   know 
A  thing  is  so. 
'Cause  then  you'll  know 
That  what  was  so 
When  you  were  Joe 
May  not  be  so 
When  you're  not  Joe ; 
And  that  is  so 
Which  was  not  so 
When  you  were  Joe 
Down  here  below. 

I  like  you,  Joe, 
I'd  have  you  know ; 
And  that  is  so, 
Because  you're  Joe. 
And  be  it  so, 
Mon  ami,  Joe, 
As  to  and  fro 
The  world  you  go ; 
That  which  you  know 
Declare  'tis  so; 
And  so  be  Joe, 
The  Joe  I  know, 
"  Chickadee  Joe." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

JAN.  23,  2  p.  m.— I  went  out  to  look  at  the 
thermometer,  when  I  heard  the  cackling 
of  ptarmigan  the  other  side  of  the  river. 
Harry  Reynolds  and  I  armed  ourselves  and 
started  out  for  game.    We  spotted  the  flock 


56 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


in  a  willow  thicket  where  the  sun,  which 
nowadays  is  just  at  the  horizon,  had  prob- 
ably attracted  them.  Several  of  the  birds 
were  perched  on  top  of  the  bushes,  and  were 
very  conspicuous  against  the  dark  sky.  We 
sneaked  up  to  them  and  got  a  shot.  Harry's 
gun  got  choked  with  snow  and  missed  fire. 
We  followed  up  the  birds  and,  after  two 
hours  of  hard  tramping,  I  had  four  shots, 
securing  three  ptarmigan.  The  walking  was 


Grave  Decorations. 

extremely  difficult.  The  snow  from  the 
tundras  northward  was  deeply  drifted  along 
the  willow  thickets.  It  was  packed  just 
hard  enough  on  top  so  that  at  about  every 
other  step  it  would  sustain  one's  weight, 
but  the  alternate  steps  would  break  through 
nearly  to  one's  waist.  In  some  places  we 
fell  and  floundered,  and  we  considered  our 
sport  rather  too  well  earned,  One  of  my 
cheeks  was  frosted,  but  Harry  brought  it 
out  all  right  by  a  vigorous  rubbing  with 
snow. 

It  is  too  cold  for  hunting.  I  cannot  shoot 
with  gloves  on,  and  my  bare  fingers  get 
burned  by  the  cold  steel  of  the  hammers  and 
triggers.  Harry  had  the  doctor's  Winchester 
repeating  shot-gun  Although  a  fine  gun  in 
warm  weather,  it  seems  to  get  out  of  gear 
now.  My  plain  double-barreled  Remington 


is  the  stand-by.  I  look  at  it  and  it  seems  to 
say,  "  Wait  till  spring  comes,  Joe,  and  we'll 
get  in  our  work." 

The  literary  society  is  as  interesting  as  at 
first.  Last  Wednesday  Joe  Jury  talked  on 
the  "  Art  of  Printing."  He  is  a  printer  by 
trade  and  has  quite  a  business  in  San  Jose. 
The  week  before  Jack  Messing  told  us  about 
the  Hawaiian  Islands.  He  was  there  for 
two  months  a  year  ago.  Nearly  all  of  us  are 
in  favor  of  sailing  around  and 
visiting  our  new  islands  on  the 
way  home.  It  is  only  about  two 
thousand  miles  out  of  our  way. 
Personally  I  would  like  to  make 
a  long  cruise  and  visit  the  Phil- 
ippines and  Ladrones.  Several 
of  the  boys  are  growing  desper- 
ately homesick.  Time  drags  for 
them,  and  tney  are  counting  the 
days  to  next  July  when  they  can 
get  out  of  the  Kowak  Valley  and 
start  for  home.  I  have  over- 
heard a  couple  of  them  planning 
how  they  might  even  now  go 
across  country  to  St.  Michaels, 
so  as  to  be  ready  for  the  first 
steamer  in  the  spring.  Enthusi- 
asm is  a  myth.  It  was  less  than 
a  year  ago  that,  "  No  matter 
what  happens,  we  will  push  on 
into  the  interior  and  explore  the 
unknown  mountains  until  we 
strike  gold."  Now  it  is,  "  How 
soon  can  we  get  home?"  Such 
is  human  nature. 

Everyone  is  making  snowshoes 
or  getting  the  natives  to  make 
them.  I  must  get  a  pair  as  curi- 
osities to  send  home.  The  natives 
do  nice  work,  and  are  improving  their  oppor- 
tunities to  get  a  good  price.  They  get  three 
to  five  dollars  worth  of  food  or  clothes  for  a 
pair  of  muckluks.  Snowshoes  bring  ten  dol- 
lars. Indian  Charley  has  made  the  doctor  a 
nice  miniature  sled  and  pair  of  snowshoes 
for  treating  him  when  he  was  sick.  Charley 
shows  more  gratitude  and  good-will  than 
any  other  of  the  natives.  But  he  has  some 
great  ideas.  Last  week  he  worked  hard 
from  daylight  till  dark  in  a  cold  wind  clear 
ing  away  the  trees  and  brush  from  his  little 
child's  grave.  He  cut  down  everything 
clean  between  the  grave  and  the  river,  say- 
ing this  was  so  "  the  Kowrak-mitts  traveling 
up  and  down  the  river  "  could  see  his  "  mick- 
aninie's "  burial-place.  He  took  the  tree 
trunks  and  poles  and  leaned  them  together 
over  the  grave,  tepee  fashion,  so  the  dogs 


and  wolves  cannot  dig  in.  He  left  several 
of  the  taller  trees  immediately  surrounding 
the  grave,  and  climbed  to  their  tops,  trim- 
ming off  the  branches  as  he  came  down. 
He  then  fastened  flags  to  these  poles  until 
he  had  fourteen  up,  with  every  prospect  of 
more.  He  used  everything,  such  as  sail- 
cloth, handkerchiefs  and  sacks.  We  thought 
if  he  kept  on  he  might  have  all  the  clothes 
he  possessed  fluttering  in  the  wind  like  a 
Monday  morning  wash,  only  the  clothes 
lines  were  perpendicular  instead  of  horizon- 
tal. We  remonstrated  with  him,  telling  him 
the  "  cabloonas  "  never  put  flags  over  their 
graves;  but  he  insisted  .that  he  wanted  to 
make  this  spot  conspicuous  so  that  everyone 
would  notice  it.  The  doctor  thought  of  a 
scheme  and  Clyde  put  it  into  operation.  He 
made  a  windmill  about  four  feet  in  diameter 
and  with  a  big  fan.  It  was  well  made,  and 
took  Clyde  two  whole  days  to  finish.  Char- 
ley was  very  much  pleased  with  it,  and  it 
was  promptly  lashed  to  the  top  of  the  tall- 
est tree,  whence  resound  its  mournful 
creaks  whenever  the  wind  blows.  Charley 
wanted  to  know  if  all  cabloonas  put  wind- 
mills over  the  graves  of  their  dead.  Charley 
is  very  ambitious  to  do  exactly  like  a  white 
man  and  yet,  like  many  another,  he  seems 
to  think  a  disregard  of  native  superstitions 
would  be  disastrous.  He  asked  us  yesterday 
if  he  would  die  if  he  should  take  some  little 
pills  the  doctor  gave  him  for  some  trifling 
ailment.  He  said  that  some  Kowak-mitts 
told  him  so.  There  is  an  old  woman  in  the 
middle  igloo  of  the  village  who  keeps  these 
natives  in  such  ideas.  The  sooner  she  goes 
"  mucky  "  (dead)  the  better  it  will  be  for  her 
people.  About  New  Year's  an  old  man  at 
her  igloo  was  very  sick  and  was  expected  to 
die.  For  fear  of  having  him  die  in  her  igloo, 
and  thus,  as  she  believed,  render  the 
house  uninhabitable,  she  turned  him  out  into 
the  extreme  cold.  His  son  stayed  with  him 
and  made  a  big  fire.  As  soon  as  we  found 
it  out  the  nearest  cabin  took  the  sick  man  in, 
and  did  all  they  could  for  him,  although  he 
died  in  a  short  time.  Women  here  have  a 
harder  life  than  can  be  imagined.  A  child 
is  never  born  in  an  igloo,  but,  no  matter  how 
cold  the  weather  is,  the  mother  is  driven  out, 
not  to  return  with  her  child  until  it  is  five 
days  old.  There  have  been  three  such  cases 
so  far  near  us.  The  last  was  during  a  ten- 
days'  windstorm.  The  woman  went  alone 
back  into  as  sheltered  a  place  as  she  could 
find  in  the  woods,  and  made  a  screen  of 
spruce  boughs  to  protect  her  from  the  storm. 
In  front  of  this  she  kept  a  small  fire  burning 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


57 


Native  Sweethearts. 


and  there  she  remained  with  but  little  cloth- 
ing all  the  bitter  days  of  her  allotted  time. 
An  old  woman  occasionally  visited  her  and 
brought  her  food  and  wood.  The  baby  froze 
to  death. 

Jan.  28.— Who  should  drop  in  on  us  night 
before  last  but  three  of  our  boys  from  the 
upper  camp,  Miller 
Casey  and  Alec.  They 
report  everyone  in 
good  health,  but  the 
gold  outlook  is  alto- 
gether "  nil."  All  the 
reports  have  been 
run  down  and  there 
is  no  encouragement 
offered  anywhere. 
The  boys  staked  out 
fifteen  claims  in  the 
districts  which 
showed  "indications." 
Holes  have  been  dug, 
but  in  a  few  feet  they 
strike  water  and  can 
go  no  further.  This 
report  is  for  the  late 
fall.  C.  C.  and  Mr. 
Samms  had  just  ar- 
rived when  the  boys  left.  Uncle  S.  and 
Samms  had  seven  out  of  their  nine  dogs 
killed  by  poison  in  some  unexplained  way 
at  one  of  the  camps.  They  bought  five  more 
at  the  Riley  Camp  for  fifty  dollars.  Our 
dog  Tingle  was  among 
the  killed.  C.  C.  and 
Samms  intended  to  go 
twenty-five  miles  further 
to  a  village  at  the  Par 
River.  This  party  will 
remain  with  us  until  the 
return  of  C.  C.  They 
came  down  "just  to  kill 
time."  They  say  it  is 
pretty  monotonous  at  the 
other  camp.  They  car- 
ried a  pack  of  about 
thirty  pounds  each  and 
were  very  tired.  Foote 
started  with  them,  but 
gave  up  half  way  down. 
Casey  and  Miller,  as  well 
as  Alec,  are  jolly  good 
fellows  and  we  hope 
they  will  stay  with  us  a  good  while.  Our 
grub  is  getting  rather  low.  The  boys  up 
the  river  had  the  larger  share.  It  will 
probably  carry  them  through  to  July.  But 
I  think,  unless  we  can  borrow  from  neigh- 


Superstitious  Old 
Woman. 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


bors,  a  delegation  of  us  from  this  camp  will 
have  to  go  down  to  the  "  Penelope  "  at  Es- 
choltz  Bay  and  bring  supplies.  I'm  sure  it 
will  not  be  I.  I  shall  be  here  when  spring 
opens  for  the  bird  migrations.  The  boys 
report  that  two  of  the  river  steamers  are 
lost.  They  were  put  into  a  side  stream  to 
freeze  up  for  the  winter.  This  stream  is  fed 
by  warm  springs  which  kept  running  after 
the  stream  froze  over,  depositing  successive 
layers  of  ice  around  the  boats  until  one  of 
them  is  buried  entirely  out  of  sight,  smoke- 
stack and  all.  The  other,  the  "Agnes  E. 
Boyd,"  belonging  to  the  Hanson  Company, 
is  about  half  buried.  If  these  boats  had  been 
watched  at  the  start  and  dams  put  around 
them  and  then  raised,  they  could  have  been 
saved.  But  now  they  are  entombed  in  solid 
ice,  and,  unless  they  are  chopped  out  before 
spring,  the  torrents  when  the  thaw  comes 
will  smash  them  to  pieces.  The  little 
"  Helen "  is  so  far  all  safe.  That  slow, 
ugly-looking  little  scow,  which  everybody 
made  fun  of  last  fall,  may  be  ahead  of  all 
the  big  steamers  next  spring.  Already  the 
Hanson  boys  are  talking  about  making  ar- 
rangements with  us  for  taking  them  down 
to  the  Mission.  Thus  shall  the  first  be  last 
and  the  last  first.  The  general  opinion  of 
our  boys  now  seems  to  be,  if  nothing  is 
found  in  this  country  by  next  July,  to  sail 
down  along  the  coast  to  Bristol  Bay  and 
way  stations,  inquiring  as  to  the  news  from 
those  sections,  and  finally  taking  in  the 
Aleutian  Islands.  This  suits  my  inclina- 
tions. Reports  are  coming  directly  from  the 
Yukon  region  that  there  is  nothing  to  en- 
courage one  to  go  there.  It  is  safe  to  con- 
clude that  newspaper  reports  are  as  nine  to 
ten  exaggerated.  There  are  thousands  of 
disappointed  people  in  all  sections  of  cen- 
tral Alaska.  Travel  is  almost  impossible. 

Jan.  31,  Tuesday.— We  are  having  cloudy 
weather  with  a  little  snow.  The  thermom- 
eter stands  at  ten  degrees  below  zero,  and  it 
te  uncomfortably  warm  in  our  winter 
clothes.  I  shot  four  ptarmigan  yesterday, 
two  of  which  I  have  just  finished  skinning. 
I  got  three  at  one  shot,  standing,  and  the 
other  on  the  wing.  The  doctor  is  out  now 
hunting  the  birds.  Whenever  I  get  any 
game  it  excites  him  so  that  he  immediately 
goes  hunting.  He  seldom  starts  until  I  have 
set  the  example.  I  do  not  have  success 
oftener  than  each  third  hunt.  Walking 
through  the  snow  is  very  tiresome,  but  one 
must  be  persistent  in  this  as  in  other  things. 
It  seems  to  be  only  chance  that  I  ever  do 


find  the  ptarmigan.  I  usually  search  for 
fresh  tracks  along  the  bushy  margins  of 
lakes  or  sloughs  and  then  follow  them  up. 
Mornings  I  find  them  mostly  near  their 
roosting-places,  and  they  seldom  fly  far. 
They  sleep  on  the  ground,  burrowing  into 
the  snow  and  clearing  a  bare  wallow  on  the 
warm,  soft  moss.  It  is  difficult  to  see  them 
on  the  snow,  and  this  accounts  in  part  for 
my  ill  success.  Yesterday  I '  walked  right 
into  a  flock  without  seeing  them  until  they 
flew.  I  also  got  two  pine  grosbeaks  and  two 
redpolls.  The  days  are  growing  rapidly 
longer.  Only  three  months  until  the  spring 
birds  come. 

Sunday  there  were  fifty-seven  persons  at 
church,  including  thirty-two  white  men.  A 
stranger  conducted  the  services  in  C.  C.'s 
place.  Nothing  occurred  of  an  unexpected 
nature  excepting  the  fact  that  one  of  our 
boys  went  to  sleep  and  snored  so  loud  that 
it  made  us  all  think  we  were  back  in  the 
States  at  church  somewhere.  Last  night  we 
had  what  Kowak  boys  call  a  "great  blow- 
out." Brownie  made  a  big  wad  of  taffy  and 
we  ail  pulled  at  it.  By  the  way,  three  or 
four  of  us  were  surprised  at  Christmas  by 
receiving  a  box  each,  "  straight  from  home." 
They  had  been  packed  and  given  into  the 
care  of  different  persons,  so  that  the  re- 
cipient of  each  box  did  not  suspect  that  he 
was  to  have  one.  By  some  oversight  of  the 
party  to  whom  my  own  was  committed,  I 
did  not  get  my  Christinas  box,  but  am  as- 
sured that  it  is  "  safe  somewhere,"  and  will 
come  to  light  when  somebody  stumbles  over 
it.  Dr.  Coffin  received  his  on  time,  and  the 
contents  have  yielded  us  no  end  of  comfort. 
Brownie  drew  upon  its  nuts  and  crystallized 
fruits  for  his  taffy.  After  the  candy  was 
washed  off  from  the  table  and  chairs  and 
candle-sticks  and  faces  and  hands,  we 
played  a  game  of  crokonole,  which  lasted  far 
into  the  night.  The  result  was  that  I  did  not 
have  breakfast  on  time.  Miller  and  I 
played  the  doctor  and  Rivers,  the  latter 
combine  winning  two  out  of  three  games 
after  a  very  close  struggle.  They  had  the 
"  ha-ha  "  on  me.  The  game  finally  depended 
on  the  last  shot,  which  was  mine.  We  both 
had  195  —  200  to  make.  There  were  three 
blacks  on.  the  board  and  two  whites.  The 
whites  are  Miller's  and  mine.  I  had  a  fairly 
good  split  shot  to  take  off  two  blacks,  which 
would  have  given  us  the  odd  game  by  a  good 
margin.  Everyone  was  talking  and  the  op- 
position was  doing  its  best  to  "  rattle  "  me. 
Anyhow,  by  some  extraordinary  roundabout, 
my  shot  cleared  the  board  of  every  white 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


59 


one  and  put  all  three  blacks  in  the  center 
ring.    Oh,  but  the  howl  from  the  enemy! 

Several  cases  of  scurvy  are  reported  along 
the  line.  One  man  is  nearly  dead.  It  is 
supposed  to  be  due  to  a  sameness  of  diet  and 
two  little  exercise.  Men  settle  down  in  their 
cabins  and,  not  being  obliged  to  go  out,  just 
sleep  the  time  away.  Dr.  Coffin  suspects  an- 
other cause.  A  poor  grade  of  food-stuffs  has 
been  brought  up,  probably  with  adultera- 
tions. Brownie  is  just  now  pounding  up 
lumps  of  sugar  on  the  table  where  I  am 
writing.  He  is  using  the  end  of  my  rolling- 
pin  with  great  effect  and  much  scattering  of 
sweetness,  much  to  the  delight  of  several 
Eskimo  "  mickaninies,"  who  are  hav- 
ing an  active  picnic  in  consequence. 

Feb.  2.— C.  C.  and  party  have  re- 
turned, whole  but  tired.  Besides 
C.  C.,  Cox  and  Mr.  Samms,  there  are 
four  fellows  from  the  Upper  Agnes 
Boyd  Camp,  so  that  we  are  pretty 
well  crowded  as  to  sleeping.  I  had 
eighteen  men  to  feed  for  three  meals, 
serving  them  at  two  tables.  I  had  to 
"  rustle  "  for  breakfast  this  morning. 
Made  two.  big  pans  of  biscuit,  a 
kettle  of  mush,  a  mass  of  salt-horse 
hash,  bacon  and  gravy.  The  repast 
was  successful,  excepting  that  the 
gravy  was  somewhat  salty.  It  is  a 
great  idea  this,  my  cooking  for  eigh- 
teen men,  after  I  have  declared 
"  quits  "  so  many  times.  The  fellows 
laugh  now  when  I  "  resign." 

Scurvy  and  "  black-leg "  are  get- 
ting common  up  the  river.  One  man 
at  the  Jesse  Lou  Camp  has  died  of  the 
latter.  The  "  black-leg  "  is  what  the  doc- 
tors call  phlebitis.  Black  patches  ap- 
pear on  the  lower  limbs,  which  swell  and 
become  very  painful.  Many  are  affected 
and  at  some  of  the  camps  above  us 
they  have  instituted  regular  "  scurvy 
trails,"  five  to  ten  miles  long,  which  they 
tramp  every  day.  Exercise  and  a  change  of 
food  seem  to  help  and  also  to  prevent  the 
disease.  Those  who  are  suffering  have  been 
confined  to  their  cabins  so  long,  eating  pork 
and  beans  and  baking-powder  bread,  to  the 
exclusion  of  fruit  and  fresh  meats,  that  their 
cases  are  almost  hopeless.  C.  C.  reports 
nothing  new  above.  He  and  Samms  visited 
the  big  Indian  village  at  the  Par  River.  C.  C. 
got  a  black  bear  skin  in  trade.  Samms  took 
a  census  of  the  native  population  and  finds 
about  four  hundred  and  fifty  on  the  Kowak. 
C.  C.  had  rather  a  hard  trip  I  guess,  but  he 


was  anxious  to  get  it.  Nothing  like  having 
plenty  of  hardships  to  relate  on  one's  return 
home.  I  expect  to  do  some  of  the  relating 
myself.  He  is  a  pretty  heavy  man  and  it 
would  seem  could  not  endure  as  much  as  a 
slender  person.  But  he  manages  to  make  it. 
Last  night  and  to-day  we  have  our  heaviest 
snowfall.  Until  a  thaw  comes  to  form  a 
crust  traveling  will  be  difficult.  Yesterday 
the  literary  was  well  attended.  Mr.  Young 
of  the  Iowa  Camp,  talked  on  "  Butter  Mak- 
ing and  Creamery  Methods,"  and  I  on  the 
"  Bacteria  which  Assist  in  the  Making  of 
Cheese  and  Butter."  Casey  sang  two  comic 
songs,  "  The  Irish  Jubilee,"  and  "  Put  Me 


Home  from  the  Mission. 

Off  at  Buffalo."  Miller  sang  "Just  Behind 
the  Times "  and  "  The  Queen's  Hussars." 
Miller  has  a  fine  voice.  The  literary  is 
growing  more  popular  as  the  season  ad- 
vances, and  it  may  well  be  considered  an 
important  factor  in  helping  many  of  us  to 
pass  the  winter  profitably.  We  try  to  bring 
in  subjects  which  will  interest  everyone, 
those  who  are  not  literarily  inclined  as  well 
as  the  rest,  and  I  think  we  have  been  quite 
successful.  It  seems  to  me  that  the  mind 
must  be  employed  in  these  long  winter  even- 
ings at  different  points  of  Alaska,  as  a 
means  of  moral  and  physical  health.  The 
doctor  and  I  agree  as  to  this. 

Feb.  4.— The  other  day  one  of  the  boys  was 
rummaging  about  among  the  stores  to  see 
what  he  could  come  across  of  interest  piled 
above  the  rafters,  when  he  accidentally 
knocked  down  a  box.  It  fell  to  the  floor  and 


60 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


one  corner  burst  open,  disclosing  the  con- 
tents, which  were  not  "  Sugar  Corn,"  as  the 
label  on  the  end  indicated.  A  very  insig- 
nificant legend  near  one  end  read  " C.  C. 
Reynolds."  and  it  was  set  aside  as  belong- 
ing to  him.  Yesterday  it  was  given  to  C.  C., 
who  at  once  recognized  it  as  the  very 
Christinas  box  which  had  been  entrusted  to 
him  for  me  before  we  left  home,  by  my 
mother  and  sister.  He  turned  it  over  to  me 
with  many  regrets,  etc.  It  contained  every- 
thing that  could  give  pleasure  to  a  boy  from 
two  years  old  to  twenty-one  —  from  tooters 
and  jumping-jacks  to  warm  woolen  hoods 
and  handkerchiefs  and  books.  Stockings 
were  stuffed  full  of  candies  corked  tightly 
in  bottles  and  tin  boxes,  and  nuts  were  pro- 
fuse. A  touch  of  home-thought  mingled 
with  the  Arctic  storms.  I  wish  we  had  had 
it  for  Christmas  on  account  of  the  toys  and 
candies,  which  would  have  added  greatly 
to  the  presents  on  the  natives'  Christmas 
tree.  The  hoods  were  especially  acceptable. 
They  are  knit  with  a  piece  across  the  nose, 
openings  only  for  the  eyes  and  mouth,  and 
are  tied  under  the  chin.  They  fit  like  the 
skin  itself.  The  books  are  all  .new  to  our 
library,  which  has  been  pretty  thoroughly 
digested  by  this  time.  I  brought  the  three 
novels  out  and  they  were  immediately 
pounced  upon.  The  doctor  is  reading  "  A 
Tennessee  Judge,"  Miller  "  A  Kentucky 
Colonel,"  and  Mrs.  Samms  "  Oliver  Twist." 
I  shall  get  at  them  in  course  of  time. 

I  have  read  very  little  of  late  aside  from 
my  physiology.  There  is  a  growing  faction 
in  our  company  now  favoring  an  expedition 
to  the  Philippines.  We  have  the  "  Pen- 
elope "  and  sufficient  supplies  to  go  around 
the  world,  for  that  matter.  For  my  part  I 
think  we  ought  not  to  hurry  about  leaving 
Alaska.  Resolutions  in  regard  to  prospect- 
ing are  dimly  waning.  Last  summer  it  was, 
"We  will  stay  in  Alaska  and  push  on  until 
we  find  gold,  if  it  takes  three  years."  In 
the  fall  they  thought  "two  years  enough." 
Last  month  it  was,  "  We  will  prospect  all 
summer  and  start  for  home  as  late  as  the 
boat  can  leave  the  Sound."  And  now  it  is, 
"  How  can  we  the  soonest  reach  home?" 
Several  men  from  up  the  river  are  going  to 
start  overland  for  St.  Michaels.  Time,  and 
plenty  of  it,  seems  to  be  an  antidote  for  en- 
thusiasm. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

FEB.  8.— Mr.  and  Mrs.  Samms  left  for  the 
Mission  yesterday.  Harry  Reynolds 
goes  with  them,  and  will  either  stay 
there  or  go  down  to  the  "  Penelope."  That 
lessens  our  number,  but  we  will  still  have 
eleven  in  the  house.  C.  C.  talks  of  following 
them  later.  There  will  be  no  more  prospect- 
ing done  by  this  company  this  year,  except 
by  myself,  and  that  for  birds.  I  got  a  pair  of 
muckluks  in  trade,  and  am  now  bartering 
for  a  pair  of  snowshoes.  The  snow  is 
eighteen  inches  deep  and  very  light  and  dry, 
I  shot  four  redpolls  near  the  house  this 
morning.  I  would  like  to  see  it  sixty-five 
degrees  below  zero  just  for  the  experience 
of  it.  I  have  already  shot  ptarmigan  at 
forty-four  degrees  below,  and  could  have 
stood  it  much  colder  without  wind. 

Feb.  11.— It  must  be  admitted  that  life  is 
getting  a  little  humdrum.  There  is  nothing 
in  particular  to  write  about  unless  one  has 
a  poetic  turn.  Poetry  doesn't  come  to  any 
of  us  any  more.  The  poetry  is  wearing  off 
from  the  L.  B.  &  A.  M.  &  T.  Co. 

If  I  were  a  Mark  Twain,  with  humor  to 
relate  the  doings  of  people  about  me,  I  could 
write  a  few  pages  of  good  reading.  Re- 
sources are  unlimited  to  the  right  person 
applying.  The  story  of  our  "  Fool's  Er- 
rand "  into  this  out-of-the-way  country,  if 
written  by  an  expert,  would  be  as  rich  a 
theme  as  one  could  desire.  But  alas!  I  am 
only  a  bird-hunter  by  nature,  and  a  gold- 
hunter  on  the  Kowak  by  grace  of  my  father, 
and  am  unable  to  depict  the  fortunes  of  this 
crowd  in  an  acceptable  manner.  There  is 
unrest  everywhere.  All  admit  that  they 
have  been  duped.  Some  are  making  the 
best  of  circumstances,  but  others  are  taking 
it  to  heart  in  a  pitiful  degree.  Although 
for  the  most  part  good-natured,  chagrin  is 
the  rule.  There  are  many  pathetic  tales 
half  hinted  at.  Men  left  families  to  live  as 
best  they  might,  in  vain  hope,  in  narrowed 
circumstances  at  home,  selling  or  mortgag- 
ing all  they  possessed  to  outfit  themselves, 
confidently  expecting  to  return  with  quickly- 
acquired  wealth.  About  twenty-five  men 
have  lost  their  lives  so  far  from  drowning, 
freezing  or  scurvy,  several  of  whom  we 
know  to  have  dependent  families  at  home. 
It  is  worse  than  war,  for  there  is  no  pension. 
And  then  the  ridiculousness  of  this  mad 
rush!  How  a  company  of  excited  men  fol- 
lowed an  Eskimo  three  days  across  the 
tundras  and  over  the  mountains,  only  to  be 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


61 


shown  a  little  brook  with  yellow  mica  glist- 
ening in  the  sandy  bed!  How  another  party 
had  a  "  sure  thing,"  and  several  others  got 
wind  of  it  and  followed,  scarcely  giving 
themselves  time  to  sleep,  until  they  all 
reached  the  same  spot  together  in  a  mood  to 
fight,  but  finally  laughed  at  themselves  as  if 
provoked  by  a  humorous  ice  demon.  Sev- 
eral parties  paid  an  old  sailor  at  San  Fran- 
cisco forty  dollars  each  for  a  "  tip  "  as  to 
the  exact  spot  where  gold  had  been  dug  out, 
"  fifteen  thousand  dollars  in  two  hours  with 
a  jack-knife"!  They  all  met  at  the  supposed 
place.  We  have  had  the  laugh  on  them 
many  times,  though  I  fail  to  see  the  exact 
grounds.  The  ludicrous  sometimes  changes 
to  the  doleful  even  while  I  am  laughing. 
"We  paid  $600  apiece 

for    our     tip,"     someone     

says.  Several  have 
owned  up  that  they  fol- 
lowed the  "  Penelope  " 
crowd  into  this  country 
believing  that  we  had  "  a 
sure  thing;"  and  the  mis- 
sionaries told  us  that  it 
has  been  rumored  that 
nearly  five  hundred  men 
came  into  the  Sound  last 
summer  following  our 
"  scent."  I  cannot  see 
anything  "  funny  "  about 
it,  though  some  do. 

Feb.  12.— This  morn- 
ing after  breakfast  I 
amused  myself  about  an  hour  before  ser- 
vice by  paying  strict  attention  to  affairs 
about  me  in  the  cabin.  It  is  astonishing 
how  entertaining  the  meaningless,  helter- 
skelter,  careless  conversation  can  be.  And 
yet  there  are  points.  We  are  all  doing  some- 
thing, if  only  yawning  or  looking  out  of  the 
frosty  window. 

C.  C.  to  clipping  Cox's  whiskers  and  makes 
inaudible  remarks.  Rivers  is  shaving,  just 
like  any  Christian  of  a  Sunday  morning. 
Miller,  Alec,  Clyde,  Casey,  Brownie  and  the 
doctor  are  reading.  I  am  writing  at  the 
table.  Uncle  Jimmy  is  standing  by  the  stove 
with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  facing  the  win- 
dow and  whistling.  A  pail  of  water  is  set 
into  the  top  of  the  heating  stove  and  sizzles 
in  varying  tones.  All  is  quiet  for  a  while, 
when  positions  are  changed.  Ablutions  are 
going  on  behind  closed  canvas.  Uncle  Jimmy 
sits  down  on  a  bench  and  pulls  his  beard  in 
a  slow,  rhythmical  motion.  He  is  abstracted. 
Cox  fills  a  stew-pail  with  water,  pieces  of 


ice  striking  the  sides  with  a  tinkling  sound, 
and  puts  it  on  the  cook  stove.  Uncle  Jimmy 
gets  his  Bible  and  sits  down  at  the  table, 
spending  several  moments  in  wiping  his 
spectacles.  He  reads  a  verse  and  pushes  his 
specs  high  up  on  his  forehead,  rests  his  head 
on  his  hand  and  dozes  off.  Casey  and  Cox 
exchange  some  words  about  a  "  shirt "  that 
has  shrunken  in  washing.  Rivers  takes  the 
thermometer  and  goes  outdoors.  Returns, 
saying  that  it  is  "  thirty  below,"  and  bids  me 
put  that  in  my  diary.  Clyde  brings  his 
camera  outfit  to  the  window  and  explains 
what  the  several  pictures  represent.  Cox 
asks  me  to  "  blow  out  the  lamp  if  I  don't 
need  it,"  which  I  do.  Cox  gets  a  book  and 
sits  down  near  the  window.  He  lights  his 


After  Whitefish. 

big  corn-cob  and,  after  puffing  several  dense 
clouds  of  smoke,  asks,  "Will  I  disturb  you 
smoking,  Uncle  Jimmy?"  The  latter  says, 
"  Oh,  no;  oh,  no!"  Rivers  gets  "  Hamlet " 
and  sits  down  to  the  table  to  read.  C.  C.  is 
in  his  bedroom  humming  a  tune.  Ceases 
humming  and  whistles;  is  again  humming; 
whistles;  sings.  The  doctor  gets  up,  saying, 
"  Uncle  Jimmy,  I  didn't  know  I  took  your 
Bible."  Goes  into  bedroom  and  puts  on  hood 
and  mitteqs.  Says  he  is  "  going  up  to  see 
Bentz."  And  the  morning  passes,  while  I 
see  and  hear  much  more  of  no  greater  im- 
portance than  what  I  have  recorded.  Half- 
past  eleven  the  natives  and  "  cabloonas " 
begin  to  arrive  for  church.  C.  C.  speaks, 
and  as  usual  we  all  listen. 

Is  it  monotonous,  does  one  think  who  has 
not  spent  months  in  a  cabin  with  the  same 
faces  and  the  same  voices  and  the  same  rou- 
tine of  endless  twilight?  I  marvel  how 
some  who  have  not  inward  resources  can 
endure  it. 


62 


GOLD  HUNTING  IN  ALASKA. 


I  let  "  Cingato  "  have  my  shot-gun  yester- 
day, and  he  brought  me  four  ptarmigan, 
two  of  which  were  the  rock  ptarmigan,  which 
I  have  not  before  taken.  I  wanted  to  skin 
them  to-day,  but  Uncle  Jimmy  wouldn't  let 
me.  If  I  insisted  Casey  said  I  might,  from 
Uncle  Jimmy's  threatening  look,  "  precipi- 
tate a  rough  house."  I  put  the  birds  away 
to  freeze  until  to-morrow,  so  there  is  no 
further  danger  of  a  "  rough  house." 

Last  night  we  had  the  most  beautiful 
aurora  of  the  winter.  The  more  brilliant 
display  was  south  of  the  zenith,  although 
there  was  scarcely  a  part  of  the  sky  which 
was  not  illuminated  at  some  time.  Broad 
curtains  of  pale  blue  light  seemed  suspended 


On  a  Journey. 

in  the  heavens.  They  were  constantly 
changing  in  form  and  intensity,  and  waves 
slowly  swept  across  them  as  if  they  were 
disturbed  by  a  breeze.  The  lower  edge  was 
the  brighter,  and  alternate  light  and  shadow 
chased  each  other  endlessly  from  west  to 
east.  The  effect  was  like  that  of  a  stage 
with  the  curtain  drawn,  with  a  succession  of 
persons  passing  in  front  of  the  footlights. 
And  then  there  were  ribbons  of  light  sweep- 
ing slowly  across  the  sky.  These  bands 
were  often  abruptly  broken  and  continued 
at  right  angles  with  the  other  section.  Little 
patches  of  light,  like  a  fleecy  cloud  in  a 
sunny  sky,  appeared  for  a  few  minutes,  to 
gradually  fade  out  again.  There  was  no 
moon,  and  yet  the  landscape  was  illumin- 
ated as  if  by  the  brightest  moonlight,  but 
there  were  no  shadows. 

Feb.  17. — Alec,  Miller  and  Casey  started 
back  up  the  river  and  Brownie  went  with 
them.  The  four  "  Agnes  Boyd  "  boys  who 


came  down  with  C.  C.  also  went  up.  and  two 
of  the  Hanson  boys  with  them.  Yesterday 
Casey,  Clyde  and  three  of  the  Iowa  people 
also  left,  and  will  catch  up  with  the  first 
party  at  Ambler  City.  Alec,  Miller,  Clyde 
and  Brown  will  return  in  a  month.  The 
party  had  two  sleds  and  four  dogs.  The 
cabin  seems  almost  empty.  We  have  had 
from  eleven  to  eighteen  sleeping  and  eating 
here  for  the  past  month  or  more,  and  now  we 
are  only  six.  The  comparative  quiet  is  a 
relief  and  I  shall  be  able  to  do  more  study- 
ing. I  want  to  read  some  more  books  as 
well.  I  expect  we  shall  be  few  in  numbers 
from  now  on.  When  Alec  and  Miller  get 
back  from  the  upper  camp  they,  with  C.  C. 
and  Rivers,  are  planning  to  go 
down  to  the  vessel  at  Escholtz 
Bay.  Casey,  our  engineer,  will 
stick  by  the  "  Helen "  until  the 
river  opens.  I  am  going  to  stay 
here  until  ihe  "  Helen  " -picks  me 
up  on  her  way  to  the  Sound.  I 
can  do  more  work  in  the  spring 
collecting,  with  a  warm  cabin  to 
dry  specimens  in,  than  chasing 
over  the  country  prospecting,  with 
a  will-o'-the-wisp  in  view.  The 
weather  is  very  gloomy.  The  air 
is  heavy  with  mist  and  full  of  a 
fine  frost  which  falls  constantly. 
The  sun,  although  it  shines  for 
seven  hours  a  day,  doesn't  get  far 
enough  above  the  horizon  to  get 
in  its  genial  work.  It  was  forty- 
five  degrees  below  zero  this 
morning  and  we  stay  in  the  cabin.  Last 
week  Rivers  and  I  were  relieved  from  culin- 
ary duties  and  Cox  took  our  place.  Coxie 
proves  himself  to  be  the  best  cook  the  Long 
Beach  and  Alaska  Mining  and  Trading  Com- 
pany has  produced.  We  feel  our  loss  in  not 
having  discovered  his  talents  in  this  line  be- 
fore. He  has  been  too  modest.  His  art 
shall  no  longer  be  in  obscurity. 

He  sits  straddle  of  the  stove  all  day  long 
concocting  original  dishes  and  improving 
upon  old  ones.  He  gives  us  a  quarter  of  a 
pie  apiece  three  times  a  day,  and  as  much  as 
we  want  between  meals.  His  bread  is  per- 
fect. We  had  the  finest  kind  of  fried  eggs 
for  breakfast  —  fish  eggs.  The  only  impedi- 
ment to  his  cooking,  to  my  mind,  is  his  in- 
ability to  make  mush.  It  is  too  thin.  We 
have  made  a  fortunate  deal  with  the  Han- 
son Company,  who  have  fifty  tons  of  pro- 
visions in  their  storehouse  here,  to  get  all 
the  extra  grub  we  need  until  summer.  Their 
steamer,  the  "  Agnes  Boyd,"  is  nearly 


L  a  "  glacier  creek,"  and  it  will  prob- 
avtj  Ldii  to  the  "Helen"  to  ship  their  pos- 
sessions down  next  summer.  I  was  down  to 
the  San  Jose  cabin  for  dinner.  We  were 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


63 


We  have  a  new  lounge,  which  invites  indi- 
gence in  an  already  lazy  crowd.  I  have  read 
over  and  over  the  six  letters  I  received  in 
the  New  Year's  mail.  It  will  be  six  months 
served  to  an  individual  yet  before  we  get  any  more.  We  heard  from 
can  apiece  of  sauer-  an  Indian  that  Harry  R.  and  Samms  had 


A  Child  in  the  Cabin. 


kraut  and  sausages 
steaming  hot.  I  had 
been  hunting  across  the 
tundra  for  several 
miles  through  the  snow, 
and  my  appetite  was  as 
keen  as  C.  C.'s  razor 
after  he  has  stropped  it 
on  a  section  of  the  belt 
which  was  made  at 
home  and  fastened 
around  his  waist  with 
the  charge  that  on  no 
account  wras  it  to  be 
taken  off  unless  he  was 
found  dead  in  the  snow. 
It  has  his  name  on  it  for 
identification.  Guy  Sols- 
bury  has  just  come  up  with  Dr.  Coffin  to 
stay  with  us  for  a  few  days'  visit.  We  have 
plenty  of  room  now,  and  are  ready  to  re- 
ceive in  decent  style. 

Feb.  20,  12  o'clock  noon.— Cox  and  Rivers 
and  I  are  the  only  ones  in  the  room.    The 
rest   are    cutting    wood.     The    sunshine    is 
flooding  the  cabin  with  light,  although  the 
thermometer    shows    forty    degrees    below 
zero.    One  of  our  Eskimo  neighbors,  "  Poth- 
luk,"  is  visiting  us,  probably  more  for  the 
benefit  he  derives  from  the  stove  than  from 
a   particularly   friendly   feeling.    His   little 
girl  is  with  him,  and  is  romping  around  the 
room  like  any  white  child.     "  Kop-puk  "  is 
the  prettiest  native  child  I  have  seen.    She 
is  "  four  snows  old,"  so  Poth-luk  tells  me. 
Her  costume  is  typically  Eskimo  —  a  heavy 
deerskin  parka  with  a  big  hood,  lined  with 
wolverine,  strips  of  minkskin  hanging  from 
her  shoulders  and  waist,  and  deerskin  com- 
muks.    Her  hood  lies  back  from  her  head 
exposing  her  black  hair,  cut  bang-wise  in 
front.    Her  face  is  round  and  fat  and  her 
mouth  really  very  pretty.    She  has  shining 
dark  brown  eyes  and  perfectly  white  teeth. 
At  this  moment  she  is  playing  "peek-a-boo" 
with  me  from  behind  a  chair.    Her  laugh- 
ing face,  surrounded  by  the  broad  fringe  of 
wolverine  fur,  and  her  chubby  figure,  make 
a  pretty  picture.    I  would  like  to  take  her 
home  with  me.    But  what  could  I  do  with 
her?    If  taken  from  her  native  climate  she 
would  probably  soon  die. 


reached  the  Orphans'  Home  safely,  though 
they  have  had  hard  traveling.  Saturday 
night  Brownie,  Clyde,  two  of  the  Iowa  boys 
and  one  Hausonite  returned,  having  given 
up  the  trip.  They  only  went  fifteen  miles 
up  the  river.  The  snow  is  so  deep  they  had 
to  carry  the  sled  in  some  places,  and  those 
who  are  continuing  with  it  have  to  double 
up  with  the  loads;  that  is,  go  over  the  road 
twice  in  order  to  get  the  entire  load  up. 
They  will  have  a  rough  time.  Brownie  came 
near  freezing  to  death  and  had  to  return. 
This  gave  the  other  boys  who  came  with 
him  an  excuse  for  returning.  Brownie  has 
been  around  home  all  winter,  not  exercising 
much,  and  was  not  sufficiently  hardened  for 
such  a  trip.  The  first  day,  after  they  had 
been  out  but  a  few  hours,  he  sat  down  ex- 
hausted and  said  he  would  come  on  as  soon 
as  he  had  rested  a  few  minutes  (the  old 


\ 


Our  Artist  Snowed  In. 

story).  The  boys  had  presence  of  mind  to 
know  what  the  real  matter  was  and  tried 
to  get  him  to  walk  on,  but  he  completely 
collapsed  and  became  unconscious.  They 
quickly  unloaded  the  sled  and  several  went 
on  ahead  to  prepare  the  tent  and  get  a  fire 
going,  while  the  rest  got  Brownie  on  the 


64 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


sled  and  hauled  him  to  camp.  He  was 
finally  restored,  but  a  few  minutes  more 
and  another  would  have  been  added  to  the 
Kowak  silent  ones.  It  was  thirty-five  de- 
grees below  zero,  not  so  very  cold,  but  his 
feet  and  face  were  frozen.  The  boys  plied 
the  art  of  thawing  him  out  so  well  that  he 
will  lose  nothing  but  some  skin.  He  makes 
a  pretty  picture  with  a  black  nose.  His  toes 
are  sore,  too.  Nothing  will  induce  him  to 
leave  the  cabin  again.  It  is  no  use  making 
light  of  it,  it  is  dangerous  traveling  unless 
one  is  in  the  best  physical  condition  and 
with  proper  clothes  and  outfit.  The  rest  of 
the  party  are  used  to  it,  and  we  have  no  fear 
for  their  safety.  So  many  together  can  take 
care  of  each  other.  Brownie  says  that  when 
he  sat  down  to  rest  he  only  felt  tired  and  a 
little  numb.  This  numbness  crept  on  him 
with  little  pain  until  he  gradually  lost  per- 
ception. He  says  he  "  felt  good  "  and  didn't 
like  to  be  disturbed.  He  lost  all  power  of 
movement  and  speech  until  he  was  warmed 
up  and  rubbed  for  two  or  three  hours. 
Death  by  freezing  must  be  very  easy  and 
pleasant.  Perhaps  it  is  easier  to  die  almost 
any  death  than  we  suspect.  I  must  have  an 
argument  with  the  doctor  about  that. 

Saturday  brought  me  a  new  experience  — 
that  of  writing  a  sick  man's  will.  B.,  who 
lives  alone  in  a  little  cabin  near  the  first 
Iowa  Camp,  is  very  sick  and  will  probably 
die.  He  dictated  his  will  to  me,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  Uncle  Jimmy  as  witness.  It  appor- 
tions all  his  goods  and  possessions  here, 
which  are  all  he  has  in  the  world,  among  the 
residents  of  this  community,  naming  in  par- 
ticular several  who  have  waited  upon  him. 
Dr.  Coffin  is  willed  his  dory.  B.  is  a  queer 
character.  He  is  more  or  less  insane,  evi- 
dently from  drink.  The  way  he  begs  for 
hypodermic  injections  of  cocaine  and  mor- 
phine indicates  that  he  may  have  been  a 
"  dope  fiend."  He  has  been  here  since  last 
summer.  For  some  time  previous  his  record 
was  not  sustaining,  but  his  people  thought 
he  might  be  benefited  by  a  change  of  cli- 
mate. He  says  his  folks  are  well  off  and  he 
doesn't  want  any  of  his  things  sent  home. 
The  different  camps  are  sharing  in  his  care 
now,  and  he  may  live  indefinitely.  His  legs 
are  affected  very  much  like  the  scurvy  vic- 
tim's, though  the  doctors  do  not  call  it  that. 
Several  of  the  people  have  frost-bitten 
cheeks,  but  otherwise  this  is  a  healthy  neigh- 
borhood. What  little  sickness  we  have  had 
tends  to  make  the  well  ones  kind  and  char- 
itable and  helpful.  They  chop  wood  for  one 
another  and  in  many  ways  give  evidence 


of  having  sprung  from  a  long  line  of  Chris- 
tian ancestors.  I  have  heard  that  this  is 
the  case  always  and  everywhere  at  mining 
camps.  And  ours  is  a  mining  camp. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

FEB.  24,  Friday,  9  p.  m.— I  went  hunting 
for  the  first  time  on  snowshoes.  I  got 
along  famously  until  I  struck  a  soft 
snowdrift,  and  the  shoes  turned  on  edge  and 
I  fell  headlong.  Otherwise  I  received  no 
casualties  and  got  over  the  ground  rapidly, 
skirting  the  brushy  margins  of  lakes  back 
on  the  tundra  and  following  up  the  creeks. 
I  shot  three  rock  ptarmigan,  and  learned 
many  interesting  items  about  their  notes 
and  habits,  which  are  duly  set  down  in  my 
special  bird  notes.  The  weather  is  calm  and 
clear  and  cold,  ranging  from  fifteen  to  fifty- 
one  degrees  in  the  twenty-four  hours. 

Wednesday  afternoon  the  literary  was 
again  well  attended,  as  we  had  a  very  inter- 
esting programme.  Dr.  Coffin  had  arranged 
the  east  end  of  the  room  in  a  patriotic  man- 
ner, the  designs  being  his  own.  A  large  flag 
made  of  a  red  blanket  with  parallel  stripes 
of  white  cheese  cloth  folded  across  it,  and  in 
the  corner  a  square  of  blue  mosquito  netting 
with  paper  stars  pinned  on  it,  formed  the 
background.  On  a  platform  in  front  of  this 
were  stacked  three  guns,  one  an  old  rusted 
muzzle-loader  which  C.  C.  found  out  in  the 
woods,  one  an  old-fashioned  breech-loader, 
and  the  third  a  modern  nitro-repeater,  to 
represent  the  three  great  wars  —  the  Revo- 
lutionary, the  Civil,  and  the  Spanish.  On 
the  wall  were  magazine  cuts  of  Schley, 
Sampson,  Dewey,  Hobson,  and  other  heroes, 
while  in  the  center  of  the  blanket  flag  was 
a  large  picture  of  George  and  Martha  Wash- 
ington. 

Mr.  Legg,  of  the  Jesse  Lou  Camp,  gave  a 
talk  on  Honduras,  where  he  was  a  banana 
grower  some  years  ago.  Several  George 
Washington  speeches  followed,  by  Solsbury, 
Jury,  Thees,  C.  C.,  and  others.  Just  at  the 
close  of  the  meeting  Uncle  S.  came  bluster- 
ing in  from  up  the  river.  He  brought  a  lot 
of  news  that  kept  the  people  here  until  late 
in  the  night.  Two  or  three  more  men  have 
been  frozen  to  death.  Several  have  scurvy. 
Our  boys  were  at  Ambler  City  waiting  for 
the  weather  to  moderate  before  going  on  up. 
There  has  been  absolutely  no  gold  heard 
from.  There  are  thousands  of  men  in  the 
lower  Yukon  regions,  one  hundred  and  fifty 
steamers  and  various  kinds  of  launches 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


65 


along  the  Koyukuk  alone,  and  no  encourag- 
ing prospects.  Hundreds  of  men  haven't  a 
cent  to  pay  their  passage  back  to  the  States. 
One  good  thing  makes  affairs  better  than 
they  might  be  —  there  is  plenty  to  eat  in  the 
country.  It  is  said  that  a  good  many  have 
signed  a  petition  to  the  government  to  come 
and  get  them  out  of  their  trouble. 

We  feel  pretty  sure  of  our  return  tickets. 
But  the  "  Penelope "  is  at  the  mercy  of 
Arctic  demons,  and  if  she  is  saved  it  will  be 
marvelous. 

Feb.  26,  Sunday.— I  will  confess  that  I  did 
not  behave  well  in  church  this  morning.  I 
took  a  seat  over  in  the  corner  behind  Rivers, 
where  I  thought  my  scribbling  would  not  be 
noticed,  and  there  I  am  writing.  I  guess  no 
one  will  be  harmed  by  it  unless  it  be  myself. 
10:30  a.  m.,  and  the  first  arrivals  for  meeting 
are  Charley  Lund  and  Beam  of  the  first 
Iowa  Camp — that  is,  representing  the  white 
population.  Services  are  supposed  to  begin 
at  eleven,  but  two  benches  of  Eskimo  are 
already  seated.  They  are  quite  well  behaved, 
but  keep  up  an  incessant  jabbering.  Char- 
ley Lund,  Beam  and  the  doctor  are  holding 
an  animated  conversation  about  the  sick 
man  B.  B.  is  a  good  deal  better. 

Guy  Solsbury  and  Normandin  of  the  Han- 
son Camp  have  just  arrived,  all  muffled  up, 
their  masks  thickly  frosted.  It  is  forty-five 
degrees  below  zero,  but  they  report  that 
their  three-mile  walk  was  "  quite  comfort- 
able." Normandin  brought  me  a  big  box 
nicely  finished  with  cover  and  shallow  trays, 
for  my  skins.  It  is  in  trade  for  a  stuffed 
ptarmigan.  He  is  quite  a  genius  in  the  me- 
chanical line.  The  box  was  rather  too  heavy 
to  carry,  so  he  fastened  a  pair  of  runners 
on  blocks  at  the  bottom  and  dragged  it  up 
by  a  rope  tied  to  a  handle  on  one  end.  Ly- 
man  comes  in  w/th  his  clarionet  case  under 
his  arm.  Dr.  Gleaves  and  D.  arrive,  and 
then  Young,  Dougherty  and  Montgomery, 
from  the  middle  Iowa  cabin,  and  Legg  of  the 
Jesse  Lou,  who  is  staying  with  them.  Sev- 
eral more  natives  come  in  with  friendly 
"  Halloas!"  "  Big  Jones  "  from  the  further 
Iowa  Camp  arrives,  and  Brennan  and  Mal- 
colm from  the  Sunnyside.  Brennan  is  nick- 
named "  Noisy,"  because  he  is  always  very 
quiet  and  has  nothing  to  say  to  anyone. 
Remarks  as  to  the  "  cold  weather,"  wooden 
snow-glasses  and  snowshoes,  are  numerous. 
The  conversation  is  mainly  desultory,  car- 
ried on  piecemeal  from  opposite  sides  of  the 
room.  But  there  is  a  low  hum  from  two  or 
three  couples  who  are  carrying  on  a  more 


earnest  conversation.  Dr.  Coffin  and  Dr. 
Gleaves,  for  instance,  I  overhear  discussing 
Fish's  condition.  Fish  is  the  man  whose 
toes  were  amputated.  One  can  see  that 
Sunday  services  on  the  Kowak  are  rather  of 
a  social  nature.  The  orchestra  begins  to 
tune  up;  general  silence  falls  on  the  congre- 
gation, and  individuals  seek  permanent 
seats.  Dr.  Coffin  gives  out  the  song  books, 
of  which  C.  C.  brought  plenty.  The 
orchestra  consists  of  the  banjo  by  C.  C.,  vio- 
lin by  Normandin,  and  clarionet  by  Lyman. 
There  is  some  delay  and  more  tuning  of  the 
banjo  and  clarionet,  which  do  not  seem  to 
jibe  (to  use  a  musical  term).  A  low  buzz  of 
conversation  is  again  audible,  and  the  leaves 
of  the  hymn  books  rustle.  Several  of  the 
natives  have  colds  and  there  is  considerable 
coughing.  It  is  very  quiet;  sort  of  an  air  of 
suspense.  The  sunshine  streaming  across  the 
room,  reflected  from  yellow  Mackinaw  suits, 
gives  a  brownish  tint  to  the  scene.  Nor- 
mandin and  C.  C.  are  discoursing  "  sharps  " 
and  "  flats  "  in  a  low  voice,  yet  audible  in  the 
room.  The  violin  and  banjo  are  not  quite 
tuned  together.  Solsbury  is  talking  aloud 
about  "  Moth  balls  in  furs,  back  in  the 
States."  At  last  C.  C.  announces  the  num- 
ber of  the  hymn  in  a  loud,  hurried  voice,  as 
though  he  were  just  startled  out  of  a 
reverie,  "  No.  17,  Jesus  Saves."  The  clar- 
ionet sounds  the  pitch  and  C.  C.  leads  in 
the  singing.  The  time  is  awfully  slow. 
Nearly  everyone  sings,  the  Eskimos  follow- 
ing the  air  nearly  as  well  as  the  whites.  Al- 
though many  sing  out  of  tune,  and  individ- 
ually would  make  a  horrible  discord,  the 
aggregation  is  a  somewhat  musical  droning 
of  a  quality  that  would  soon  put  one  to 
sleep.  After  four  verses  of  this  hymn,  "  No. 
64  "  is  announced,  "  Wait  and  Murmur  Not." 
Some  further  tuning,  and  four  verses  of  this 
hymn  are  gone  through  with.  They  always 
do  sing  all  the  verses  of  any  hymn.  Dr. 
Coffin  now  rises  and  reads  the  second  chap- 
ter of  Matthew.  Mr.  D.  is  in  charge  of  the 
meeting  to-day,  and  he  calls  on  Mr.  W.  to 
"lead  in  prayer."  Uncle  Jimmy  slowly 
rises,  takes  a  step  or  two  forward,  clasps  his 
hands  in  front  of  him,  and,  closing  his  eyes, 
raises  his  face  slightly.  He  is  a  good  man 
and  I  like  to  see  and  hear  him  pray.  I 
haven't  anything  against  Uncle  Jimmy. 
When  anyone  prays  the  Eskimos  always 
bow  their  heads  low,  resting  their  elbows  on 
their  knees.  They  say  "  Amen "  in  unison 
when  the  prayer  is  finished.  So  much  is  the 
result  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Samms'  missionary 
work.  Uncle  Jimmy  terminates  with  the 


66 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


Lord's  Prayer,  in  which  all  join.  When  the 
praying  is  over  there  is  quite  a  hubbub  of 
coughing  and  sneezing.  C.  C.  announces 
"  No.  49,"  and  the  orchestra  tunes,  "  There 
shall  be  showers  of  blessing,"  four  verses. 
The  clarionet  doesn't  seem  to  know  this  very 
well  and  makes  several  breaks.  Toward 
the  end  of  the  last  verse  the  hymn-books  are 
closed  and  there  is  a  general  settling  down. 
D.  rises  and,  after  a  pause,  proceeds  to  apol- 
ogize for  his  inability  as  a  public  speaker. 
But  he  tells  us  he  will  do  the  best  he  can, 
and  we  ask  for  nothing  more.  His  subject 
is  "  The  Divinity  of  Christ."  I  should  like 
to  take  down  the  various  points,  but  my  con- 


Church  Service  at  Cape  Blossom  in  July. 


tinued  scratching  is  noisy  and  attracts  atten- 
tion. I  might  get  taken  out  of  meeting  by 
the  ear  and  so  suffer  for  being  a  "  naughty 
little  boy."  A  couple  of  men  came  in  late 
during  the  sermon  and  caused  some  disturb- 
ance until  they  finally  got  seated,  mopping 
the  melting  ice  from  their  beards.  D.  winds 
up  his  discourse  with  a  prayer.  The  most  of 
his  sermon  was  written,  and  delivered  in  his 
usual  halting  manner,  but  the  substance  was 
good  for  any  location  and  showed  that  he 
had  given  a  good  deal  of  study  to  his  sub- 
ject. After  the  prayer  and  a  chorus  of 
"  Amens "  from  the  natives,  who  haven't 
understood  a  word  of  what  was  said,  there 
is  a  sort  of  recovery,  with  coughing  and 
clearing  of  throats  and  shuffling  of  feet. 
"  No.  139  "  is  announced,  "  Bringing  in  the 
sheaves,"  three  verses.  C.  C.  starts  another 
song,  which  he  observes  "  will  be  familiar 
to  the  natives,"  "  No.  39,  At  the  Cross." 
The  Eskimos  catch  a  tune  quite  readily,  the 
women  and  children  carrying  the  air  very 
nicely.  They  try  hard  to  imitate  the  words. 


Two  verses  conclude  this  song.  "  No.  14, 
Jesus,  I  Come,"  is  announced.  It  is  a  new 
piece  and  is  sung  very  scatteringly.  Guy 
Solsbury  calls  for  "  Sunshine."  He  thinks  it 
appropriate,  because  at  this  moment  the 
sunshine  is  flooding  the  room  with  more 
than  usual  brightness.  But  C.  C.  says  he 
hasn't  the  music,  so  the  orchestra  can't  play 
it.  C.  C.  asks  all  to  rise,  and  he  prays  and 
gives  the  benediction.  The  congregation 
slowly  disperses,  little  knots  remaining  to 
discuss  various  topics.  Legg  declares  he 
will  not  go  back  to  the  Jesse  Lou  until  the 
weather  moderates.  Thus  with  gossip  and 
swapping  of  news  the  Kowak  Sunday  ser- 
vices  are  finally 
ended  and  the  room 
is  cleared  in  time  for 
the  2  o'clock  dinner. 

March  3.— I  have 
been  pretty  busy  to- 
day. Got  up  just  in 
time  for  breakfast, 
which  I  don't  have 
to  get  any  more,  for 
a  while  at  least,  and 
took  my  snowshoes 
up  to  the  village  to 
b  e  mended.  Then 
Rivers  and  I  went 
ptarmigan  hunting. 
We  tramped  across 
the  tundras  from 
eight  till  two,  bag- 
ging two  ptarmigan  and  a  redpoll.  It  was 
tiresome.  In  the  ravines  where  the  wind  did 
not  strike,  the  snow  was  soft  and  deep  and 
hard  to  get  over  even  with  snowshoes. 
Rivers  wore  snowshoes  for  the  first  time, 
and  he  got  several  tumbles,  but  always 
struck  in  a  soft  place. 

We  got  into  a  large  flock  of  ptarmigan 
which  kept  flying  around  us,  but,  after  two 
or  three  shots,  our  hands  became  too  cold 
and  we  had  to  give  them  up.  My  mitts  were 
sweaty,  and  froze  while  I  had  them  off 
shooting,  and  when  I  put  them  on  again  my 
hands  nearly  became  frosted.  It  is  too  cold 
for  comfortable  hunting.  When  we  got  back 
we  were  late  for  dinner,  but  Coxie  got  us  a 
fine  lunch,  hot  pea  soup,  biscuits,  and  apple 
cobbler.  After  dinner  I  put  up  two  ptarmigan 
skins  that  I  shot  last  Tuesday.  Rivers  is 
learning  how  to  skin  birds  now.  He  expects 
to  go  down  to  Escholtz  Bay  pretty  soon  to 
be  with  the  vessel  when  the  ice  breaks  up, 
and  will  collect  eggs  and  skins  for  me  there. 
I  would  like  to  turn  the  whole  company 


into  an  egg  collecting  concern  for  a  month 
in  May  and  June.  But  I  guess  the  doctor 
and  Rivers  are  the  only  ones  who  will  take 
much  active  interest.  Last  night  I  had  a 
very  nice  dream.  The  first  swallows  had 
come.  There  were  barn  swallows  and  bank 
swallows  flying  along  the  river  and  I  was 
after  them.  Before  many  weeks  this  is  just 
what  will  happen.  It  will  be  an  exciting 
time  for  me.  More  exciting  than  gold  hunt- 
ing. 

Monday  was  my  birthday,  and  there  was 
quite  a  celebration  in  the  cabin.  The  first 
thing  in  the  morning,  before  I  was  fairly 
awake,  I  was  attacked  by  the  doctor,  and 
we  had  a  five-minute  squabble,  pitched  high. 
At  the  close  of  the  seance  he  claimed  to  have 
given  me  twenty-two  spanks.  They  were 
more  in  the  nature  of  bunts  and  kicks  than 
square  spanks.  I  made  the  doctor  lots  of 
hard  work.  We  rolled  around  the  floor  and 
under  the  bed  and  on  the  beds,  and  tore 
things  up  generally,  including  Brownie,  who 
got  in  the  road  with  his  sore  leg.  At  break- 
fast Coxie  served  me  a  big  bowl  of  oatmeal 
mush.  We  had  been  out  of  mush  material 
for  a  long  time,  much  to  my  personal  sor- 
row, as  all  the  boys  and  most  of  the  neigh- 
bors well  know.  Mr.  Lyman,  hearing  of  my 
birthday,  kindly  sent  me  in  a  package  of 
oatmeal.  Good  birthday  present  that! 

I  also  received  a  birthday  box  from  home, 
smuggled  like  the  Christmas*  box,  not  to  be 
opened  until  the  day  appointed."  There 
was  everything  in  it—games,  books,  candies, 
duly  bottled  and  boxed,  etc.  We  all  had  a 
treat.  At  dinner  a  big  platter  of  ptarmigan 
was  set  at  my  place  (some  I  had  shot),  and 
all  in  all  it  was  a  very  pleasant  occasion. 
A  birthday  in  the  Arctics,  on  the  banks  of 
the  mighty  Kowak,  is  not  often  the  thing 
that  happens  to  a*  fellow, 

Wednesday,  at  the  literary,  C.  C.  talked 
on  "  Reminiscences  of  an  Undertaker."  It 
was  very  interesting,  being  his  favorite  and 
familiar  theme.  It  was  held  at  the  Hanson 
Camp,  and  I  remained  as  guest  of  Guy  Sols- 
bury'  Jack  Messing  and  Joe  Jury  came  here 
and  visited  our  boys  at  the  same  time.  We 
have  to  visit  about  tJiese  cold  nights  and 
sleep  under  one  cover  when  possible. 
Blankets  are  none  too  plentiful. 

Normandin  mended  my  shot-gun,  which 
had  lost  a  rivet,  for  which  I  paid  him  the 
sum  of  a  stuffed  ptarmigan.  Everybody 
wants  ptarmigan  skins  now,  but  I  have  to 
be  rather  "  stingy,"  as  I  am  frequently  told, 
or  else  I  won't  have  a  ghost  of  a  "  series  " 
to  take  home  lor  comparison.  Home!  When? 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


67 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


Coming  to  Trade. 


ARCH  7,  1899.— I  have  succeeded  at 
last  in  trading  for  two  pairs  of  snow- 
shoes,  from  some  Eskimos  who  have 
just  come  up  the  river.  The  dickering  en- 
gaged the  entire  afternoon,  and  I  am  com- 
pletely exhausted.  It  is  a  stupendous 
undertaking  to  attempt  to  trade  for  any- 
thing. The  natives  want  the  earth,  and  then 
"  some  more."  The  following  is  an  illustra- 
tion of  the  proceedings:  An  Indian  brings 
in  a  pair  of  snowshoes  and  we  all  rush  to 
see  them,  commenting 
on  their  size  and  qual- 
ity. "  Mickaninny  "  (too 
small);  "  anganinny  " 
(too  big) ;  "  naguruk  " 
(good) ;  "  caprok  pec- 
hak "  (string  loose); 
"  b  y  m  e  by  fixem." 
And  then  "  capsinic " 
(how  much?)  The  na- 
tive invariably  replies, 
"  You  speak."  You  can 
never  make  an  Indian 
state  what  he  wants. 
You  begin  by  offering 
him  "  sox."  "  Konga  " 
(no).  He  wants  "  cow  cow "  (something 
to  eat).  "Flour?"  "Capsinic  flour?"  "  Ne- 
leuea "  (I  don't  know).  Being  urged  on 
flour,  the  native  intimates  "  two  sacks." 
"  Oh,  apazh,  apazh "  (too  much).  One 
sack  flour  all  right?  "No,  too  small."  The 
Indian  then  proceeds  to  look  over  the 
sack  of  flour  brought  for  his  inspection  and 
he  finds  "potoa"  (hole).  After  this  is  sewed 
up  he  finds  that  it  has  been  wet  at  one  end 
and  the  flour  is  a  little  caked  in  advance  at 
the  bottom.  He  therefore  states  that  the 
whole  thing  is  "  no  good,"  and  "  dauxic 
pechak "  (no  trade).  He  wants  bacon,  "  so 
long  and  so  broad,"  indicating  the  measure- 
ments in  the  air  with  hands.  "  No,  we 
pechak "  (haven't  any  for  him).  Then  I 
bring  out  a  shirt  to  add  to  the  sack  of  flour. 
He  looks  at  the  shirt  and  finds  a  torn  place. 
"  Stoney-house  "  (no  good). 

"  Stoney-house "  means  torn  or  broken, 
and  has  a  queer  derivation.  Fort  Cosmos  is 
called  stoney-house  by  the  natives,  because 
Lieutenant  Stoney  and  his  party  wintered 
there  in  1884.  The  cabin  they  lived  in  at 
Fort  Cosmos  (there  is  no  fort  or  anything 
else  there  now)  is  all  broken  down.  So,  with 
an  Eskimo,  "  All  same  stoney-house,"  or 
simply  "  stoney-house,"  means  broken. 
After  two  hours  of  sweating  and  bargain- 


68 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN   ALASKA. 


ing  the  trade  is  consummated,  and  the  "  cal- 
boona  "  is  satisfied.  It  is  much  to  the  relief 
of  both  parties.  From  the  foregoing  it  will 
be  plainly  seen  that  a  native  is  amply  able 
to  care  for  his  own  interests,  and  has 
learned  from  a  probably  bitter  experience 
to  "  look  a  leetle  out." 

I  got  a  very  nice  pair  of  snowshoes  to  take 
home  as  curiosities  for  one  sack  of  flour  and 
a  pair  of  socks,  and  another  pair,  stronger 
but  not  so  prettily  made,  for  everyday  use, 
for  a  half  sack  of  flour  and  half  a  pound  of 
tea.  This  is  very  reasonable  and  some  un- 
der winter  prices.  Snowshoes  make  nice 
wall  decorations  for  halls  and  dining-rooms, 
with  a  suitable  picture  stuck  in  them  where 
the  foot  belongs. 

Wednesday,  March  8.— Our  extremely  cold 
weather  is  at  an  end,  I  hope.  But  it  is  more 
disagreeable  outside.  I  put  up  a  spruce 
grouse  and  two  redpolls  this  afternoon. 
Birds  are  becoming  noisier  and,  I  presume, 
happier  and  in  better  spirits  as  the  sunshine 
increases.  An  Alaskan  three-toed  wood- 
pecker drums  taps  on  a  dead  spruce  near  the 
cabin  every  morning.  The  jays  are  quiet, 
but  have  a  stealthy,  sly  manner  which  indi- 
cates that  they  are  about  to  engage  in  nest- 
building.  Rivers  has  finished  up  two  ptar- 
migan skins  in  fair  shape.  He  is  very  pains- 
taking and  I  hope  he  gets  some  good  speci- 
mens down  on  the  coast.  I  have  everyone 
posted  as  to  keeping  birds  and  eggs  for  me, 
and,  with  this  generous  promise  of  help,  I 
ought  to  obtain  some  rare  things  this  spring. 

The  literary  met  this  afternoon,  with  good 
attendance  and  a  talk  "  On  the  Eye  "  by  Dr. 
Gleaves.  A  week  ago  the  other  officers  and 
myself  thought  our  terms  of  office  had  about 
expired,  so  we  "resigned,"  and  our  successors 
were  elected;  Joe  Jury,  president;  Clyde,  sec- 
retary; Young,  vice-president.  To-day,  as  I 
was  retiring  from  the  chair,  Dr.  Coffin  arose 
and,  after  a  most  elaborate  speech,  pre- 
sented me  with  a  gavel.  He  spoke  of  its 
rare  value  on  account  of  its  associations, 
and  grew  quite  sentimental.  It  was  part  of  a 
birch  tree,  chopped  down  by  Uncle  Jimmy 
near  our  winter  home  "  on  the  Kowak  far 
away."  Dr.  Coffin  selected  the  pieces  and 
worked  them  down.  The  head  was  turned 
by  Normandin  on  the  famous  grindstone 
lathe  of  the  San  Jose  cabin.  Joe  Jury 
worked  the  crank,  yielding  "  two  barrels  of 
sweat  by  measure,"  and  Dr.  Coffin  turned 
the  handle  and  finished  up  the  gavel.  It  is 
a  very  valuable  and  beautiful  souvenir  to  be 
kept  "as  long  as  memory  lasts." 


Joe  Jury  took  the  chair  which  I  had  va- 
cated to-day  and  made  things  lively,  using  a 
big  hand-ax  for  a  gavel  and  otherwise  mak- 
ing this,  probably  our  final  meeting,  a  merry 
one.  Several  of  the  Kowak  men  are  about 
to  leave.  Nine  of  the  Sunnysiders  started 
up  yesterday  with  their  sled  loads.  They 
have  lots  of  courage  and  perseverance,  but 
I  doubt  their  making  the  mountain  passes 
with  their  supplies.  Solsbury  and  Joe  Jury 
start  down  to-morrow  on  a  three  weeks' 
trip  to  look  after  the  condition  of  their 
barge,  sixty-eight  miles  below  us.  Dr. 
Gleaves  and  the  boys  from  "  Quality  Hill " 
are  getting  ready  for  a  hunting  trip  across 
to  the  Naatak.  Oh,  I  believe  I  have  not 
made  previous  mention  of  Quality  Hill.  It 
is  an  interesting  spot,  the  cabin  being  occu- 
pied by  four  young  men  of  the  aristocracy. 
They  have  been  exclusive,  as  became  men  of 
their  distinction.  Few  of  us  have  been  on 
intimate  terms  with  them,  but  they  are  said 
to  lie  in  their  bunks  until  twelve  o'clock 
noon,  and  to  stay  up,  when  once  out,  until 
two  the  following  morning.  They  divert 
themselves  by  shooting  at  mice  which  run 
across  the  floor,  using  their  six-shooters. 
Various  boxes  and  knot-holes  about  the 
walls  of  their  residence  suggest  targets. 
The  walls  themselves  are  riddled  with  bullet 
holes.  They  are  said  to  have  trained  a 
young  Eskimo  as  personal  attendant,  who 
does  all  the  work  of  the  cabin,  building 
fires,  bringing  wood  and  water,  and  even 
cooking.  He  sleeps  on  the  floor,  so  that  he 
may  be  handy  to  rekindle  the  fires  of  a 
cold  night.  The  first  man  to  arouse  in  the 
morning  tosses  a  boot  or  other  article  at  the 
native  servant,  which  reminds  him  of  his 
domestic  duties.  He  blacks  their  muckluks, 
it  is  rumored,  and  serves  coffee  and  cigars 
in  bed.  They  live  in  style  on  Quality  Hill. 
Thus  even  the  remote  Kowak  has  its  aristo- 
cratic society. 

March  10.— I  put  up  five  more  rock  ptar- 
migan to-day.  They  are  difficult  to  skin  and 
it  is  slow  work,  and  their  being  pure  white 
makes  it  necessary  to  be  extra  nice  with 
them.  I  have  already  used  more  than  half 
of  my  supply  of  plaster-of-paris  and  the 
migrations  have  not  begun.  I  use  this  plas- 
ter in  cleaning  the  skins. 

Yesterday  the  doctor  and  I  went  hunting 
for  three  hours  in  the  forenoon  and  secured 
eight  ptarmigan.  It  was  pleasant  when  we 
started,  but  after  a  while  the  north  wind 
blew.  We  were  about  to  return  when  we 
discovered  a  flock  of  ptarmigan  on  a  hillside. 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


69 


II 


The  fine  snow  was  driving  along  the  ground 
in  a  continuous  blinding  stream.  The  birds 
squatted  down  close  in  the  snow,  facing  the 
wind,  evidently  tired.  They  paid  little  at- 
tention to  us  until  we  were  within  easy 


The  Doctor  Makes  a  Good  Start  — 

shot,  when  they  rose  and,  after  a  short 
flight,  settled  again.  I  felt  sorry  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  them,  they  are  usually  so  wary. 
The  doctor  wore  his  snowshoes  for  the  first 
time  and  on  the  whole  got  along  pretty  well. 
Once,  however,  he  got  mixed  up  in  a  snow- 
drift He  tripped,  the  pointed  heel  of  one 
shoe  stuck,  and  down  went  the  toe  of  the 
other.  He  plunged  head  first  into  the  snow, 
where  he  could  scarcely  move.  During  the 
progress  of  his  wallowing  his  shot-gun  got 
crammed  full  of  snow,  and  he  poked  it 
out  just  in  time  to  see  four  ptarmigan  fly 
past. 

March  15,  9  a.  m.— It  has  been  storming 
three  days.  This  morning  the  wind  is  roar- 
ing among  the  trees  louder  than  ever,  and 
the  snow  fills  the  air  so  thickly  one  cannot 
see  a  hundred  yards.  It  is  warmer,  how- 
ever, as  it  always  is  with  an  east  wind; 
warmer  than  we  have  seen  it  since  last  Sep- 
tember. I  have  been  on  my  first  hunt  for 
jay's  nests.  When  it  is  cloudy  one  can  see 
through  the  foliage  of  the  spruces  more 
readily  than  when  the  sun  shines,  throwing 
shadows  everywhere.  Last  week  several  of 
the  "  Amblerites  "  came  down.  They  report 
many  cases  of  scurvy  at  Ambler  City,  and 
they  came  to  our  camps  to  get  tomatoes, 


fruit  and  pickles.  They  are  now  stormbound, 
and  two  of  them,  Phillips  and  La  Voy,  are 
with  us.  They  will  have  hard  sledding  back 
again  unless  it  thaws  enough  to  form  a 
crust.  Money  is  very  scarce  up  here  now 
and  provisions  and  clothing  are  below  par. 
With  half  the  money  we  spent  in  the  States 
one  could  buy  up  a  good  outfit.  If  one  could 
only  see  ahead!  But  in  that  case  we  would 
not  have  been  here,  and  I  should  probably 
never  have  seen  the  spring  migrations  on  the 
Kowak.  An  ill  wind  that  blows  nobody  any 
good. 

March  18. — The  cloudy  weather  continues. 
The  warmth  from  the  room  is  penetrating 
the  roof  and  the  water  is  dripping 
through  in  several  places.  The  frost  and  ice 
in  the  lean-to  are  melting,  making  a  sloppy 
place.  Icicles  hang  down  from  above,  like 
stalactites  in  a  cave,  and  slippery  cones  rise 
from  the  floor  like  stalagmites.  The  snow  is 
about  two  feet  deep  on  the  level  and  is  soft 
and  damp,  making  walking  even  with  snow- 
shoes  difficult.  I  went  into  the  woods  this 
morning  a  few  hundred  yards,  wading  in 
snow  above  my  knees,  which  was  tiring.  I 
got  a  shot  at  a  raven,  but  lost  it.  I  heard  a 
woodpecker  drumming  and  a  couple  of  pine 
grosbeaks  calling.  I  long  for  the  time  when 
the  birds  will  arrive.  Every  moment  will  be 


&•> 


But  Finds  Himself  in  a  Changed  Position. 

precious  then,  but  the  time  hangs  a  little 
heavy  now.  I  am  glad  I  have  something  to 
look  forward  to.  "  Looking  forward  to 
something "  is  about  half  the  pleasure  of 


70 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


life.  I  have  compiled  my  last  year's  bird 
notes,  have  loaded  all  my  shells,  gotten 
boxes  ready,  and  still  must  wait.  I  spend 
some  of  the  time  in  getting  as  much  infor- 
mation from  the  natives  as  possible  about 
the  birds.  They  know  the  natural  history  of 
the  region  pretty  well,  and  but  for  their  su- 
perstitions would  be  of  practical  service  to 
me.  I  have  been  looking  for  jay's  nests  and 
watching  these  birds  for  several  days  now. 
I  cannot  induce  the  natives  to  hunt  for  me, 
or  even  to  tell  me  of  nests.  They  tell  me 
that  if  a  person  looks  at  the  eggs  of  a  jay  or 
spruce  grouse  he  will  surely  "  mucky  "  (die). 
They  firmly  believe  what  they  say.  Kallak 
told  me  that  a  man  who  lived  in  her  father's 
igloo  several  snows  ago,  looked  into  a  jay's 
nest  and  promptly  went  "  mucky."  Doctor 
Charley  tells  me  the  same  thing,  except  that 
if  the  person  who  disturbs  the  nest  shoots 
one  of  the  parent  birds  and,  holding  it  be- 
hind his  back,  extracts  the  entrails  and 
throws  them  away  out  of  his  sight,  he  pos- 
sibly may  not  die.  I  am  afraid  it  will  be 
hard  for  me  to  obtain  assistance  from 
these  people  at  the  time  when  I  shall  most 
need  it,  and  which  I  had  fondly  hoped  for 
all  along. 

March  20. — My  eyes  are  smarting  with 
snow  blindness  while  I  write.  They  feel  full 
of  sand.  To-day  the  sun  shone  and  the  glare 
was  dreadful.  Last  evening  I  went  down  to 
the  Hanson  camp  and  spent  the  night  with 
Dr.  Gleaves,  and  to-day  have  been  hunting 
jays.  I  found  one  nest  just  started  and  feel 
very  much  elated.  It  was  only  by  accident 
that  I  found  it,  for  the  birds  are  so  shy.  I 
saw  a  jay  flying  in  the  direction  of  a  strip 
of  spruces,  but  lost  sight  of  it  on  account 
of  intervening  timber.  I  did  not  see  the 
birds  again,  but  followed  in  the  direction  of 
their  flight,  keeping  up  a  systematic  search 
through  the  spruces.  By  chance  I  caught 
sight  of  a  small  aggregation  of  twigs  in  a 
young  tree,  which,  by  a  few  tell-tale  feathers 
clinging  around  the  edge,  gave  me  the  scent. 
The  nest  was  not  more  than  half  built  and 
I  made  haste  to  leave  the  vicinity  so  as  not 
to  disturb  the  birds.  I  think  the  full  set  of 
eggs  will  be  ready  in  about  three  weeks. 
This,  with  the  snow  several  feet  deep  and 
the  landscape  white!  I  returned  to  Dr. 
Gleaves'  in  time  for  dinner  at  two  o'clock, 
and  was  treated  to  "  Gleaves'  Justly  Cele- 
brated," which  is  an  original  soup  of  the 
doctor's  own  concoction. 

After  a  half  day's  tramp  on  snowshoes 
through  deep,  damp  snow,  one  enjoys  a  din- 


ner   of    the    "  Gleaves'    consomme,"    hash, 
baked  sweet  potato  and  sweet  corn. 

Last  night  an  Eskimo  died  at  the  village, 
and  every  savage  neighbor  of  the  deceased 
has  moved  into  tents  out  of  their  warm 
igloos,  which  are  vacated  for  good.  They 
are  all  going  to  move  across  the  river  and 
put  up  wick-i-ups.  The  person  who  died  was 
an  old  woman  who  went  by  the  natural 
route  of  old  age.  She  was  dragged  out  of 
her  igloo  a  few  yards  and  left  in  the  snow, 
for  the  dogs  to  eat  up,  we  are  told,  as  she 
had  no  especial  friends.  C.  C.'s  instinct  was 
aroused,  and  he  and  Dr.  Coffin  went  up  to 
attend  to  the  ceremonies.  Wonderful  to  re- 
late, the  undertaker  did  not  bury  the  body, 
but  put  it  on  a  scaffold  in  true  native  style. 
He  is  being  convinced  that  this  is  the  proper 
form  of  burial.  It  is  expected  that  he  will 
institute  the  same  on  his  return  to  Cali- 
fornia. 

March  24. — Guy  Solsbury  and  Joe  Jury  re- 
turned from  their  trip  to  look  after  the 
barge.  Guy  has  some  big  stories  to  relate 
about  their  "  perilous  trip,"  which  is  the 
identical  one  Cox  and  I  made  last  New 
Year's.  They  have  been  absent  two  weeks, 
part  of  the  time  snowed  in.  We  shall  prob- 
ably have  a  full  account  of  it  in  the  San  Jose 
"  Mercury  "  next  summer.  It  will  bring  the 
mercury  down.  Colclough  came  up  with 
them.  He  had  been  to  the  Mission,  and 
brought  us  a  letter  from  Harry  Reynolds 
and  Captain  Delano,  who  report  everything 
"  all  right."  Several  men  have  lately  come 
down  the  Kowak.  The  word  from  every- 
where, Naatak,  Buckland,  Allashook,  Koyu- 
kuk,  and  the  entire  Kowak  region,  is  "  noth- 
ing." Men  are  waiting  impatiently  for 
spring  to  open  up  so  they  can  "  go  home." 
C.  C.,  Rivers  and  Clyde  are  now  waiting  for 
the  boys  to  come  down  from  the  upper 
camp,  when  they  will  all  go  down  to  the 
"  Penelope."  There  is  little  of  note  going 
on  about  the  cabin  these  days.  We  have  al- 
together too  much  sunshine.  The  doctor  and 
I  were  hunting  ptarmigan  Thursday.  We 
tramped  seven  hours  and  never  saw  a  bird 
save  a  few  redpolls  and  a  small  squad  of 
chickadees.  As  a  result  of  his  tramp  the 
doctor  is  laid  up  with  snow  blindness.  I  am 
not  so  far  affected.  I.  cannot  hunt  with 
snow-glasses  on,  as  they  dim  the  vision. 
But  I  have  some  natural  advantage.  My 
ancestors,  who  did  not  hunt  ptarmigan  on 
the  Kowak,  bequeathed  to  me  a  pair  of 
rather  deep-set  eyes  with  roofing  brows, 
which  are  the  best  protection. 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


71 


"  Doctor  Charley,"  the  Eskimo  who  re- 
ceived so  much  kindness  from  Dr.  Coffin  last 
fall,  has  been  anxious  to  return  the  courtesy, 
and  yesterday  his  opportunity  came. 

The  doctor  was  attacked  with  snow  blind- 
ness with  great  suffering.  Dr.  Charley  called 
on  him  professionally,  and  advised  him  to 
try  a  treatment  at  the  hands  of  his  wife, 
who  was  a  specialist  in  eye  cases  of  this 
nature.  The  doctor  was  ready  to  submit  to 
almost  anything  at  the  hands  of  his  friends, 
thinking  that  perhaps  they  might  possess 
some  secret  worthy  of  note.  Such  proved 
to  be  the  case.  Indian  Charley's  wife  called 
and  looked  at  the  patient's  eyes,  swollen  and 
inflamed  and  painful  to  a  degree.  She 
pointed  to  some  toothpicks  on  the  cabin 
table,  and,  being  told  to  "  proceed,"  she 
whittled  three  of  them  to  a  sharp  point. 
Handing  one  to  the  suffering  doctor,  she  bade 
him  thrust  it  into  his  nostril.  He  did  so  and 
found  to  his  astonishment  that  the  mucous 
membrane  was  without  sensation.  Obeying 
his  doctress,  he  continued  to  thrust  in  the 
point  of  this  pick  and  likewise  the  two 
others,  when  a  hemorrhage  of  considerable 
severity  occurred.  This  was  the  thing 
greatly  to  be  desired.  In  an  hour  the  nose 
was  inflamed  and  very  painful,  but  the  eyes 
were  relieved.  After  a  few  hours  both  nose 
and  eyes  were  normal,  and  the  doctor  be- 
lieves the  operation  rational.  He  declares 
that  he  will  practice  it  upon  himself  and 
others  at  the  first  opportunity.  When  he  re- 
turns to  California  he  will  doubtless  hang 
out  his  sign  as  "  Specialist  on  Snow  Blind- 
ness." Only  there  is  no  snow  in  California. 
I  will  remind  him  of  this  fact. 

We  have  a  "  scurvy  trail "  now,  and  every 
day  it  is  traveled.  There  are  two  cases  at 
the  Los  Angeles  Camp.  Our  boys  keep  busy 
at  something.  Rivers  started  the  idea  of 
making  rustic  furniture,  and  several  others 
followed.  This  resulted  in  a  search  through 
the  woods  nearly  every  day  for  crooked 
birch  sticks.  Piles  of  these  awkward 
"  crooks  "  adorn  our  back  yard,  only  a  select 
few  ever  coming  up  to  all  the  requirements 
of  a  "  natural  crook."  They  might  be  of 
some  use  as  stove  wood,  but  it  is  impossible 
to  get  at  them  with  a  saw.  The  doctor 
spent  days  and  days  whittling  out  candle- 
sticks, and  so  must  C.  C.  It  is  nice  to 
have  something  to  keep  the  people  busy.  It 
helps  time  to  limp  by.  One  of  our 
"  best  and  bravest "  walks  the  floor  as  if 
he  had  the  toothache,  he  is  so  homesick. 
He  will  not  let  Eskimo  Charley  treat  him  for 
nostalgia. 


March  30.— To-day  the  crowd  left  for  the 
Mission.  They  are  C.  C.,  Clyde,  Cox,  Rivers, 
Alec  and  a  Mr.  Drlggs,  a  stranger.  The 
most  of  them  will  stay  on  the  "  Penelope  " 
at  Escholtz  Bay,  and  be  on  hand  there  to 
help  when  the  ice  breaks  up.  Miller,  who 
came  down  from  the  upper  camp,  will  remain 
here  with  us.  That  leaves  us  five,  Dr.  Coffln, 
Uncle  Jimmy,  Brownie,  Miller  and  myself. 
It  is  a  relief  after  the  congestion.  Yesterday 
we  had  seventeen  for  dinner.  The  doctor 
is  trying  his  hand  at  cooking  now.  He  is  a 
specialist  on  toasted  cheese  and  macaroni. 
We  expect  to  have  this  combination  served 
up  three  times  a  day,  or  until  the  material 
is  exhausted.  We  each  seem  to  have  our 
culinary  idiosyncrasies;  Cox  for  light  bread 
and  pea  soup;  Rivers  for  beans;  C.  C.  for 
pie;  and  I  for  mush  and  hash. 

This  man  Driggs  has  joined  our  company 
till  we  get  back  to  the  States.  He  is  a  sailor 
and  navigator,  with  captain's  papers,  and 
may  be  of  use  to  us  later.  We  have  also 
another  prospective  addition  to  our  numbers, 
a  Mr.  Van  Dyke,  a  preacher.  He  will  join 
us  in  the  spring  and  take  passage  on  the 
"  Penelope."  He  knows  of  a  "  sure  thing." 
He  says  that  on  his  way  up  here  last  year 
his  party  stopped  on  the  mainland  near 
Sledge  Island,  and  he  and  another  man  in 
three  hours  panned  out  two  dollars'  worth  of 
gold  from  a  creek  bed.  He  had  the  gold  in 
a  bottle  last  fall  and  some  of  our  boys  ex- 
amined it. 

That  is  certainly  a  much  better  prospect 
than  we  have  heard  of  this  side  of  Circle 
City;  that  is,  that  we  have  any  reason  to 
rely  on.  He  joins  us  under  the  condition 
that  we  furnish  him  passage  back  to  the 
States  if  nothing  results,  but  he  promises 
to  take  us  to  this  place  within  two  days, 
towing  up  a  stream  from  the  coast,  and  he 
firmly  believes  himself  that  he  has  a  "  sure 
thing."  We  shall  see.  We  have  heard  so 
many  stories  of  this  sort  that  even  a 
preacher,  cannot  arouse  much  enthusiasm. 
However,  we  have  taken  up  his  offer  and 
will  sail  for  the  place  indicated  as  soon  as 
the  "  Penelope "  can  get  away  from  her 
moorings.  I'd  give  five  dollars  for  the 
chance  to  pan  out  two  dollars'  worth  of  gold- 
dust. 

Oh,  yes,  Van  Dyke  says  that  he  met  an 
Indian  near  Sledge  Island  who  had  nuggets, 
and  took  him  to  a  spot  covered  many  feet 
by  a  snowdrift,  which  he  assured  him  was 
a  mother  lode,  or  something  that  sounded 
very  nice.  Ah,  I'd  like  to  see  a  mother  lode! 
She's  what  we  are  after. 


72 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


rj  PRIL  2,  Sunday.— Evidently  our  Kowak 
jl  church  is  dwindling.  Only  fifteen  in 
attendance  to-day.  In  C.  C.'s  absence 
Dr.  Coffin  and  Uncle  Jimmy  conducted  ser- 
vices. Van  Dyke  also  took  part.  Miller 
and  Van  Dyke  sang  a  duet,  "  Though  Your 
Sins  be  as  Scarlet."  It  was  as  fine  as  any- 
thing I  remember  to  have  heard  anywhere. 
And  this  in  our  little  cabin  on  the  lonely 
Kowak!  It  snows  a  great  deal  and  the  north 


Ancient  Indian  Grave. 

wind  blows.  Collecting  is  slow  and  birds 
are  scarce.  I  got  a  couple  of  Siberian 
chickadees  the  other  day.  They  are  good 
birds  to  have,  an  Asiatic  species  which  boils 
over  into  Alaska  a  little.  This  makes  three 
species  of  chickadees  I  have  found  here — the 
long-tailed,  Hudsonian  and  Siberian.  Wood- 
peckers are  drumming  on  the  dead  spruces, 
but  I  take  care  to  keep  away  from  them. 
Miller  continues  to  be  my  partner  in  taxi- 
dermy. We  are  planning  to  stop  at  Dutch 
Harbor  next  winter. 

April  12. — Busy  days  are  beginning  to 
come  and  I  have  less  time  for  my  diary.  We 
get  more  sunshine  than  is  convenient.  To- 
day is  cooler,  fifteen  degrees  below  zero 
again.  We  used  to  think  there  wasn't  much 
snow  in  this  country,  but  are  learning  our 
mistake.  It  snows  every  day  and  is  three 
feet  deep  on  a  level.  The  doctor  and  I  spent 
the  last  four  days  at  the  Jesse  Lou  Camp. 


I  got  thirty-eight  birds  and  a  porcupine  skin. 
Miller  and  I  are  hard  at  work  upon  them. 
The  doctor  is  laid  up  with  snow  blindness 
again.  We  had  a  feast  at  Jesse  Lou  on  por- 
cupine, boiled,  roasted  and  stewed.  It  is 
like  veal  and  fine  eating.  An  Indian  shot  it. 
Many  people  are  traveling  on  the  river,  so 
as  to  get  as-  far  as  the  Mission  before  the 
ice  breaks  up.  Scurvy  is  on  the  increase. 
Two  more  men  have  died  of  it  at  Ambler 
City.  Four  at  the  Iowa  cabins  are  down 
with  it.  None  of  us  are  in  the  least  affected. 
Brownie  is  cook  now  and  we  have  plenty  to 
eat.  Miller  and  I  have  begun  trading  some 
of  our  bird  skins  for  personal  supplies  for 
next  winter  at  Dutch  Harbor.  We  traded  a 
pair  of  ptarmigan  for  a  sack  of  flour  and 
fourteen  pounds  of  bacon  to-day.  We  can 
get  almost  anything  we  ask  in  trade  for 
bird  skins,  but  money  is  scarce.  After  tramp- 
ing all  day  have  just  had  a  magnificent  din- 
ner. Here,  as  elsewhere,  something  to  eat 
is  the  first  need.  The  doctor  and  I  have  had 
fine  success.  Got  twenty-three  rock  ptar- 
migan. But  we  are  tired  and  the  poor  doc- 
tor is  attacked  again.  He  is  at  this  moment 
applying  a  solution  of  boracic  acid  to  his 
eyes.  I  continue  unaffected.  We  are  sun- 
burned as  dark  as  natives.  For  a  while  I 
burnt-corked  my  face,  but  no  need  of  it 
now.  I  wear  a  broad-brimmed,  black  slouch 
hat,  drawn  close  over  my  eyes,  and  find  it 
better  than  snow-glasses. 

April  15.— Twenty  degrees  below  zero. 
The  Indians  say  that  in  the  last  thirteen 
years  there  were  three  summers  when  the 
ice  never  melted  out  of  Kotzebue  Sound  at 
all.  And  they  say  this  is  just  like  those 
years,  no  snow  until  late.  When  the  snow 
comes  early  it  prevents  the  water  and  the 
ground  from  freezing  so  deep.  Men  are  be- 
ginning to  worry  about  our  condition.  The 
ice  in  the  river  is  seven  feet  thick,  and  there 
isn't  snow  enough  to  float  out  all  the  ice 
when  it  melts,  so  they  say.  Last  winter 
there  were  seven  or  eight  feet  of  snow,  and 
now  only  two  or  three  feet.  It  does  look 
dreary  for  those  who  are  in  a  hurry  to  get 
out. 

I  was  out  to-day  on  snowshoes.  I  like 
them.  One  acquires  a  long,  sliding  gait  that 
is  very  easy.  On  the  ridge  back  of  the 
Guardian  Camp  I  had  a  fine  view  of  the 
country  north  and  west.  The  snow  is  drifted 
over  the  west  side  of  the  ridges  by  the  east 
winds,  forming  great  shelving  banks  with 
protruding  crests  twenty  to  forty  feet  above 
their  bases.  We  are  getting  almost  enough 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


73 


sunshine  to  start  a  thaw.  Miller  has  gone  to 
Ambler  City  in  the  interests  of  our  new 
"  firm."  He  will  look  after  the  jays  in  that 
vicinity. 

I  had  almost  forgotten  to  record  the 
latest  excitement.  The  "  Flying  Dutch- 
man "  arrived  Thursday  from  St.  Michaels. 
He  has  a  dog  team  and  is  hurrying  on  up  the 
river,  expecting  to  return  to  Cape  Nome  be- 
fore the  thaw  comes.  The  news  he  brought 
is  of  a  "  big  strike  "  at  Cape  Nome  on  the 
coast  near  Sledge  Island.  "  Richer  than 
Klondike."  Three  men  took  out  $600  in 
ten  hours."  There  may  be  some  truth  in  it, 
as  this  is  about  the  place  Van  Dyke  was  to 
take  us  to.  But  I  am  hard  to  convert  to  any 
gold  proposition  now.  I  shall 
have  to  see  it  to  fully  believe 
it.  All  are  excited  over  this 
rumor,  but  it  is  useless  to 
think  of  travel.  We  got  a  let- 
ter from  the  "  Penelope " 
crew  stating  that  Harry  Rey- 
nolds and  Jett  had  already 
started  for  the  new  gold 
fields.  They  took  grub  and  a 
team  of  dogs,  so  our  company 
will  be  represented  at  Cape 
Nome.  I  am  afraid  to  think 
there  is  something  in  it.  It 
excites  one  unduly  after  the 
disappointments  of  a  year. 
The  "Flying  Dutchman"  says 
flour  is  ten  dollars  a  sack  at 
Cape  Nome  and  other  things 
to  eat  as  high.  We  heard  that 
C.  C.  and  party  had  reached 
the  Kotzebue  camp  after  a  hard  pull.  Rivers 
and  Clyde  gave  out  and  had  to  be  hauled  to 
camp.  Several  were  s^ow  blind.  They 
had  hired  two  Eskimos  to  draw  the  sled  to 
the  schooner.  Such  is  life  in  the  Arctics. 

April  19,  Wednesday,  9  p.  m.— Two  men 
came  in  from  Ambler  City  to-day  with 
frozen  feet.  We  rubbed  the  frost  pretty  well 
out  with  snow,  but  they  will  be  laid  up  for 
a  month  and  one  of  them  may  lose  his  toes. 
The  nights  are  cold,  fifteen  to  twenty  de- 
grees below  zero.  By  noon  it  is  thawing. 
A  man's  socks  and  boots  become  soaked 
with  perspiration  and,  as  the  afternoon  ad- 
vances, the  temperature  falls  and  the  wet 
footgear  freezes.  Then,  too,  in  many  places 
the  river  ice  cracks  and  the  water  flows  up 
through  and  soaks  into  the  snow  so  that  a 
traveler  steps  through  into  the  slush  and 
water  deep  enough  to  fill  his  shoes.  Before 
camp  is  reached  the  feet  freeze.  The  Cape 


Nome  excitement  is  spreading  and  many  are 
starting  overland  with  light  loads  for  the 
new  diggings.  Our  neighbors  of  the  Iowa 
cabin  are  getting  ready  and  eight  will  start 
to-morrow.  None  of  us  here  feel  called  upon 
to  attempt  the  trip. 

We  have  received  news  through  other 
channels  than  the  one  mentioned  in  regard 
to  the  Cape  Nome  district.  It  looks  more 
hopeful.  Captain  Ingraham,  who  was  up 
the  Kowak  last  fall,  is  on  the  grounds,  and 
has  staked  several  claims.  He  took  $158 
out  of  three  prospect  pans.  Hundreds  of 
men  are  rushing  into  the  country.  There 
are  fights  over  claims  and  two  men  are  shot. 
Miller  returned  from  Ambler  City  Monday 


Looking  Northward. 

with  eight  ptarmigan.    We  have  put  up  the 
skins  in  fine  shape. 

April  22,  Saturday. — It  is  snowing  heavily 
this  morning,  with  a  strong  north  gale.  The 
doctor  went  down  to  the  Hanson  Camp  yes- 
terday, expecting  to  return  to-day,  but  he 
hasn't  arrived  yet.  I  feel  anxious  about 
him,  it  is  so  easy  to  get  lost.  This  cold  will 
put  a  stop  for  a  while  to  the  Cape  Nome 
procession.  Men  have  been  passing  down 
the  river  every  day,  and  we  have  lots  of 
visitors  for  meals  and  to  stay  all  night. 
John  Miller,  the  man  with  the  frozen  feet, 
is  still  with  us  and  probably  will  be,  for  he 
has  no  other  place  to  go.  His  feet  are  in 
bad  shape;  great  blisters  run  across  them, 
and  he  suffers.  Dr.  Gleaves  is  back  from  his 
trip  to  the  Agnes  Boyd  Camp,  and  is  about 
starting  for  Cape  Nome.  It  is  very  interest- 
ing and  amusing  to  those  who  stay  at  home 
to  note  the  efforts  and  trials  of  the  poor  peo- 


74 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


pie  toiling  along  the  trail.  Most  of  them 
start  out  with  two  or  three  hundred  pounds 
apiece,  but  they  lighten  their  load  each  day 
until  it  is  reduced  to  one  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds.  I  am  convinced  myself,  from  what 
the  Eskimos  tell  us,  that  it  is  useless  to 
start  for  Cape  Nome  now.  It  will  thaw  be- 
fore half  the  distance  is  covered.  By  the 
route  generally  traveled  it  is  about  four  hun- 
dred miles  from  here.  Yesterday  a  snow- 
flake  came  hopping  about  the  woodpile  on 
the  sunny  side  of  the  cabin  —  the  first 
arrival  from  the  South.  It  spends  the  win- 
ter as  far  south  as  the  northern  tier  of  the 
United  States,  where  it  is  the  familiar  snow- 
bird. 

A  man  up  the  river  sent  down  the  left 
hind  foot  of  a  "  snowshoe  rabbit"  to  be 
stuffed.  He  had  the  tendons  pulled  apart 
so  that  by  pulling  on  them  the  toes  were 
moved.  He  wants  the  foot  preserved  in 
some  way  so  that  this  mechanism  will  re- 
main and  the  toes  move  by  pulling  an  in- 
visible string.  Don't  know  as  I  can  do  it. 

April  25.— We  finished  putting  up  our  ptar- 
migan yesterday  and  have  more  on  hand 
now.  The  past  few  days  are  warm,  with 
southeast  winds.  I  started  out  this  morn- 
ing but  found  the  snow  too  sticky  and  soft. 
It  clings  to  the  snowshoes  like  lead  weights. 
It  is  uncomfortably  warm. 

We  think  the  main  part  of  the  Cape  Nome 
rush  has  passed  us.  Several  went  by  this 
forenoon  from  as  far  up  as  the  Riley  Camp. 
Saturday  night  at  ten  o'clock  two  fellows 
got  in  from  Ambler  City.  The  boys  had  all 
retired  but  Miller  and  me,  so  we  got  them 
their  supper.  They  had  come  thirty  miles 
that  day,  pulling  a  sled,  and  were  nearly 
ready  to  drop  from  exhaustion,  when  they 
got  inside.  Sunday  at  2  p.  m.  eight  more 
arrived.  They  came  staggering  into  the 
cabin,  groping  their  way  to  the  nearest  seat, 
almost  dead.  Nearly  all  were  snow  blind 
to  a  more  or  less  extent.  One  fellow's  eyes 
were  paining  him  so  that  he  sobbed  and 
cried  like  a  child.  The  crowd  spent  the 
night.  Saturday  night  it  had  snowed  ten 
inches.  Unless  we  get  a  hard  freeze  to  make 
a  crust  I  doubt  if  these  men  can  reach  the 
Mission  even. 

We  have  to  entertain  so  many  visitors 
that  it  is  getting  tiresome  naturally.  I 
judge  we  have  fed  sixty  men  in  the  past 
week,  or  at  least  have  served  that  many 
meals.  We  call  our  camp  the  "  Penelope 
Inn,"  or  "  Cape  Nome  Recuperating  Sta- 
tion." John  Miller  is  getting  well  rapidly 


and  can  stand  on  his  feet  to-day.  They  are 
sloughing.  Several  men  we  know  are  down 
with  the  mumps.  We  have  all  been  ex- 
posed. 

April  29,  Saturday.— An  Indian  arrived 
with  letters  from  the  schooner  "  Penelope." 
C.  C.'s  party  arrived  all  right.  C.  C.'s  letter 
confirms  the  Cape  Nome  report,  and  he  and 
Cox,  Fancher,  Alec  and  Driggs  are  to  start 
in  a  couple  of  days  from  date.  If  they  reach 
there  all  right,  it  will  make  seven  of  us  on 
the  ground.  That  left  only  the  captain,  with 
Rivers  and  Clyde,  on  the  schooner,  so  C.  C. 
suggested  that  Miller  and  Brown  from  this 
camp  make  all  possible  haste  to  get  there, 
that  they  may  assist  at  the  breaking  up  of 
the  ice. 

It  didn't  take  the  two  boys  long  to  decide, 
and  yesterday  they  spent  in  remodeling  an 
old  sled  and  making  up  as  light  an  outfit  as 
possible.  They  left  at  four  o'clock  this 
morning  with  a  one  hundred  and  fifty  pound 
sled  load,  and,  if  the  weather  continues  cold 
enough  to  keep  the  present  crust  on  the 
snow,  they  ought  to  make  the  trip  in  twelve 
days.  That  leaves  only  Uncle  Jimmy,  Dr. 
Coffin  and  myself  to  take  care  of  the  stuff  at 
this  camp.  If  anything  should  happen  to  the 
"  Helen "  above,  we  should  have  some  ex- 
perience in  raft  building  and  getting  down 
the  river  as  best  we  could.  It  is  lonesome, 
only  three  out  of  the  original  twenty,  and 
after  having  had  so  many  neighbors,  too, 
who  are  mostly  gone.  The  latest  word  from 
further  up  was  that  our  boys  are  at  work 
on  the  "  Helen  "  digging  her  out  of  the  ice, 
and  she  is  so  far  all  right.  The  "  Agnes  E. 
Boyd,"  which  was  buried  in  a  glacier  creek 
during  the  winter,  stands  little  chance  of 
being  saved.  So  also  with  the  "  Hero."  The 
firm  of  "  Miller  &  Grinnell "  have  disasso- 
ciated on  account  of  Miller's  "  summons," 
but  if  the  Cape  Nome  prospect  fails,  as  I 
think  very  likely,  we  will  join  again  as  soon 
as  we  meet  and  prepare  to  spend  the  winter 
at  Dutch  Harbor.  Miller  will  collect  birds 
down  in  the  Sound  this  spring.  With  Miller 
and  Rivers  at  work  there,  and  myself  here, 
I  ought  to  get  a  good  collection  by  spring. 
Dr.  Coffin  does  a  good  deal  ot  shooting.  Out 
of  every  five  birds  he  brings  in  in  good  con- 
dition, I  skin  one  for  him.  That  rate  is  fa- 
vorable for  us  both.  He  already  has  a  box 
full  and  by  spring  will  have  quite  a  collec- 
tion. I  am  getting  a  good  deal  of  freight  on 
my  hands.  It  is  bulky.  I  keep  the  neighbor- 
hood gleaned  of  empty  boxes  of  all  sorts. 
I  am  very  short  of  cotton,  either  for  wrap- 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


75 


ping  or  stuffing.  I  use  dry  hay  and  moss  for 
even  the  smaller  birds  now. 

Last  week  the  doctor  and  I  took  a  long 
tramp,  staying  out  all  night.  When  we 
started  we  had  no  idea  of  being  away  twen- 
ty-four hours  and  only  had  a  light  lunch, 
consisting  of  a  little  corned  beef,  four  half 
slices  of  bread  and  butter,  a  dozen  walnuts, 
a  handful  of  raisins,  and  some  malted  milk 
tablets.  And  this  was  all  we  had  for  four 
meals.  The  doctor  says  it  is  good  for  a  per- 
son's health  for  him  to  fast  occasionally, 
and  I  am  certain  that  this  opportunity  ought 
to  fully  demonstrate  the  assertion.  But  I 
do  not  think  my  health  demands  any  further 
treatment  of  the  same  nature.  We  kept  go- 
ing farther  from  home,  hunting  for  likely 
places  for  ptarmigan  and  other  birds,  until 
we  got  pretty  tired;  so  we  thought  it  a  good 
time  to  try  the  experiment  of  sleeping  out  on 
the  snow  with  no  protection  whatever.  I  do 
not  say  we  were  lost.  Gold-hunters  are 
never  lost. 

We  lived  through  the  experiment.  We  did 
not  sleep  more  than  half  an  hour  all  the  time 
put  together.  We  had  to  keep  "  flopping " 
over  to  keep  one  side  from  freezing  and  the 
other  from  roasting.  We  built  a  fire  against 
a  spruce  in  a  dense  patch  of  woods.  The 
snow  was  beaten  down  in  front  of  it,  and  a 
mass  of  spruce  boughs  gathered  and  formed 
into  a  real  comfortable-looking  nest.  This 
kept  us  from  contact  with  the  snow,  but  al- 
lowed of  a  too  free  circulation  of  fresh  air. 
A  number  of  decayed  trees  in  the  vicinity 
afforded  fuel  for  the  fire  with  little  trouble 
on  our  part,  our  hunting  knives  being  the 
only  tool  we  had  carried  with  us.  Once 
during  the  night  I  had  dozed  off  very  re- 
luctantly when  the  doctor  happened  to 
notice  the  smell  of  burning  wool.  A  spark 
of  fire  had  snapped  out  and  lighted  on  the 
front  of  my  jumper,  where,  in  less  time  than 
it  takes  to  write  it,  it  had  eaten  through  my 
clothes,  including  my  sateen  shirt  and  un- 
dershirt, and  was  progressing  towards  my 
vitals  when  the  doctor  rang  up  the  fire  de- 
partment. I  was  awakened  by  a  sudden  ap- 
plication of  cold  on  my  diaphragm  and  the 
loud  tones  of  my  companion,  who  declared 
he  did  not  come  to  the  Arctics  to  be  burnt 
to  death.  In  spite  of  the  sleepless  night  we 
enjoyed  everything.  We  started  again  at 
three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  after  a  break- 
fast consisting  of  two  walnuts  apiece,  a 
dozen  milk  tablets  and  a  few  raisins.  The 
doctor  wanted  to  roast  some  of  the  birds  we 
had  shot  the  day  before,  but  I  would  sooner 
starve  than  spoil  such  rare  things  as 


Alaskan  three-toed  woodpeckers,  hawk 
owls,  Alaskan  jays,  and  whitewinged  cross- 
bills. I  should  think  anyone  would.  On  a 
hillside  where  the  snow  had  been  nearly  all 
blown  off  and  the  sun  had  thawed  the  rest, 
we  found  a  large  bare  place.  The  mosses 
and  lichens  looked  just  as  fresh  and  green 
as  if  it  were  midsummer,  and,  growing  close 
on  the  ground,  were  lots  of  last  year's  ber- 
ries, all  the  more  sweet  and  juicy  for 
their  eight  months'  cold  storage.  The  ptar- 
migan were  on  hand,  too,  and  I  shot  two  old 
roosters.  The  male  ptarmigan  are  changing 
now,  and  specimens  shot  show  some  beauti- 
ful mixtures  of  the  bright  brown  summer 
plumage  and  the  snow-white  winter  plum- 
age. The  willow  ptarmigan  are  all  in  pairs, 
and,  though  mostly  shy,  may  be  located  by 
the  loud  cackling  of  the  males.  A  very  good 
crust  on  the  snow  makes  snowshoeing  a  de- 
light for  a  few  hours,  but,  like  any  walking, 
it  grows  tiresome.  One's  feet  get  worn  and 
blistered  where  the  foot-straps  work.  If  the 
snow  is  damp  it  balls  on  the  center  lacing 
and  a  blister  is  raised  before  one  knows  it. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

MAY  6,  Saturday,  8  p.  m.— This  is  the 
strangest  May  wreather  I  have  ever 
experienced.  The  wind  has  blown  a 
gale  from  the  north  without  a  moment's 
cessation  for  four  days.  It  is  twenty-five  de- 
grees below  the  freezing  point.  I  was  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  Hanson  Camp  yesterday,  but 
got  no  birds.  I  saw  only  one  pair  of  chick- 
adees and  one  redpoll.  They  were  never  so 
scarce  all  winter  as  now.  The  natives  as- 
sure me  that  a  change  is  due  shortly,  and 
then  there  will  be  "  emik  apazh,"  and  the 
"  ting  emeruk  "  will  come. 

The  Hanson  boys  came  near  getting  me 
into  serious  trouble  yesterday.  It  was  one 
of  Joe  Jury's  jokes.  When  I  left  his  cabin 
I  started  back  into  the  woods.-  Nolan,  of  the 
Sunnyside,  called  in.  Joe  told  him  that  I 
had  reported  seeing  two  caribou  across  the 
river  on  the  way  down.  Joe  garnished  the 
tale  with  a  few  extra  details,  and  Nolan  left 
for  Sunnyside  pretty  well  excited.  He  got 
nearly  everyone  in  camp  out  before  noon.  I 
happened  along  on  their  trail  about  four 
o'clock,  and  the  first  fellow  I  met  was  Nolan, 
just  returning  from  a  long  tramp.  He  in- 
formed me  that  he  had  seen  the  caribou 
tracks  (?)  and  wanted  to  know  where  I  had 
last  seen  the  animals.  I  was  taken  by  sur- 
prise and  told  him  that  I  hadn't  seen  a 


76 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


caribou  in  Alaska.  It  then  dawned  on  Nolan 
that  he  had  been  the  victim  of  a  joke,  and 
he  was  somewhat  "  beside  himself."  I  tried 
to  explain  matters  by  telling  him  that  I  had 
said  to  Joe  Jury  something  about  having 
seen  "  ptarmigan,"  which  no  doubt  he  had 
taken  for  "  caribou."  The  rest  of  the  fellows 
took  the  joke  all  right,  but  said  they  would 
"  get  even  "  with  Joe  some  way.  One  man 
fired  his  rifle  at  a  target  and  split  the  barrel 
over  two-thirds  its  length,  owing  to  snow 
in  the  end,  I  suppose.  The  gun  was  ruined 
and  so  the  joke  was  a  costly  one. 

There  is  a  string  telephone  between  two 
cabins  at  Sunnyside  which  is  a  real  novelty. 
The  box  resonators  in  each  cabin  are  fixed 
up  with  features  like  a  human  face  with  a 
tin  mouth.  It  was  exceedingly  funny  to  see 
the  expression  on  the  faces  of  the  natives 
when  they  first  heard  that  box  "  talk." 
Greenberg  was  talking  in  at  the  other  end, 
and  they  recognized  his  voice.  One  old  woman 
fled  in  terror.  She  thought  it  was  a  "  doo- 
nak "  (evil  spirit).  It  is  no  wonder  these 
things  frighten  the  Eskimos  so.  Doubtless 
our  own  ancestors  would  have  been  burned 
at  the  stake  by  their  townspeople  for  witch- 
craft in  the  early  days  of  New  England  had 
they  dared  to  make  a  tin  box  "  talk." 

I  bought  eighteen  pounds  of  No.  8  shot  for 
$1.20  at  the  Hanson  Camp.  It  took  me 
nearly  three  hours  to  bring  it  three  miles 
against  the  wind.  I  had  no  snowshoes,  as 
I  had  let  Brownie  have  mine  when  he 
started  for  the  schooner.  The  extra  weight 
was  just  enough  to  make  me  break  through 
the  crust  every  five  steps,  and  down  I  went 
to  my  knees.  That  eighteen  pounds  grew 
to  one  hundred  pounds  before  I  reached 
home. 

John  Miller,  the  cripple,  has  moved  over  to 
one  of  the  Iowa  cabins,  so  we  are  alone  for 
the  first  time  in  many  weeks.  Only  three  of 
us.  We  cannot  use  all  the  game  we  shoot 
now,  and  I  am  rather  glad  to  have  the  op- 
portunity of  giving  it  to  the  hungry  natives. 
I  do  not  waste  a  bird  body.  I  give  some  of 
them  to  Charley  for  his  mickaninies,  and  he 
loans  me  his  snowshoes  whenever  I  want 
them  for  hunting.  At  first  the  boys 
dubbed  me  "the  bird  fiend,"  but  they  have 
quit  that  now.  Too  many  scurvy  victims 
have  blessed  me  for  the  ptarmigan  which,  in 
some  cases,  have  been  all  the  fresh  meat  ob- 
tainable, not  to  mention  our  own  possible 
suffering  had  it  not  been  for  the  birds  I 
shot.  And  now  I  do  not  object  at  all  to  the 
wordless  thanks  of  these  poor  natives,  who 
devour  every  scrap  of  a  bird  of  any  sort, 


excepting  the  skin,  which  only  I  claim.  I 
save  souls,  bird  skins  being  the  only  visible 
or  invisible  soul  of  which  the  creatures  are 
possessed. 

"We  have  just  learned  of  a  superstition 
which  is  the  most  cruel  of  any  noted  among 
these  strange  people.  It  has  roused  our  civ- 
ilized horror.  A  very  pretty  little  girl  about 
thirteen  years  old,  who  has  been  the  pet  of 
the  camps  all  winter,  and  whom  the  boys 
have  looked  upon  as  a  "  little  sister,"  has 
been  shut  up  all  by  herself  in  a  small  snow 
cave  back  in  the  woods.  There  she  is 
doomed  to  stay  until  the  snow  melts,  with- 
out, speaking  to  anyone  or  leaving  her 
cramped  position,  with  no  fire  and  with  only 
such  cold  food  as  may  be  brought  to  her. 
And  she  must  live  alone  in  such  an  igloo  for 
one  year,  so  their  statutes  decree.  This  is 
the  law  concerning  all  Kowak-mitt  women 
when  they  are  supposed  to  have  reached 
marriageable  age. 

This  is  but  the  beginning  of  the  little 
woman's  punishments,  which  will  be  many 
and  varied  from  this  date. 

The  "  cabloonas  "  around  this  vicinity  are 
very  much  incensed  over  this  new  supersti- 
tious cruelty.  To  demonstrate  our  convic- 
tions in  the  matter,  eight  of  us  armed  our- 
selves with  guns,  marched  over  to  the  vil- 
lage and  demanded  that  old  Omechuck  and 
his  wife,  Atungena,  Kalhak's  parents,  take 
the  child  back  into  their  igloo.  The  man  laid 
all  the  blame  on  the  mother  and  grand- 
mother (as  it  was  in  the  beginning),  and  we 
had  a  big  wrangle.  We  informed  them  that 
if  they  did  not  end  this  and  other  cruelties, 
and  liberate  the  girl  by  to-morrow  noon,  we, 
would  come  over  in  a  great  body  and  tear 
down  the  cave  and  take  her  away.  They 
were  pretty  well  frightened.  It  gave  us  lots 
of  fun,  though  we  didn't  change  our  austere 
countenances.  We  meant  what  we  said. 
Uncle  Jimmy  headed  the  expedition.  He 
had  a  great  big  knife  belted  on,  and  we  all 
presented  a  dangerous  front.  What  if  the 
Eskimos  had  taken  it  seriously  and  mobbed 
us?  Mobbing  is  not  their  tendency.  They 
are  gentle  in  spite  of  other  things,  and  were 
actually  in  fear  of  our  threats.  We  are  not 
sure  of  the  full  extent  of  our  influence,  but 
we  stirred  them  up  and  they  may  conclude 
that  this  "  missionary  association  "  of  gold- 
hunters  is  not  here  for  nothing.  Later  the 
girl  was  released. 

May  14,  Sunday.— Spring  is  breaking 
the  winter's  reign  at  last.  The  snow  has  al- 
most disappeared  from  the  sand-dunes  and 


GOLD  HUNTING  IN  ALASKA. 


77 


is  softening  everywhere.  Little  pools  of 
water  are  appearing  in  the  low  places.  A 
gentle  rain  is  falling,  the  first  since  last  Sep- 
tember —  eight  months.  The  days  of  slush 
and  water  are  upon  us,  but  oh,  such  exciting 
days  for  me!  The  first  geese  and  gulls  have 
arrived,  very  shy  and  very  few,  and  I  saw 
two  swans.  They  stay  about  the  muddy 
places  across  the  river.  I  got  a  fairly  good 
shot  at  a  goose,  but  missed  it.  Everyone  is 
after  the  poor  geese  and  lots  of  rifle  balls 
are  wasted,  with  never  a  goose  as  yet.  I 
shot  a  solitary  glaucus-winged  gull  sitting 
on  the  ice,  with  a  thirty-calibre  Winchester 
rifle  at  143  yards  range.  The  bullet 
went  straight  through  the  neck,  cut- 
ting a  very  clean  way.  and  the  skin 
made  a  beautiful  specimen.  Yester- 
day was  my  red-letter  day.  I  found, 
almost  by  accident,  a  jay's  nest  and 
eggs,  the  thing  I  have  been  looking 
for  so  constantly  for  three  months. 
I  also  found  a  fine  set  of  hawk  owls 
—  six  eggs,  three  newly  -  hatched 
young  and  both  parents.  The  nest 
was  in  a  hole  in  a  rotten  spruce  stub 
about  twelve  feet  above  the  snow. 
When  I  tapped  on  the  tree  the  male, 
which  was  sitting,  left  the /nest  and 
flew  away  about  a  hundred  feet, 
turned  and  made  for  my  head  as 
straight  and  swift  as  an  arrow, 
planting  himself  full  force,  and  draw- 
ing blood  from  three  claw  marks  in 
my  scalp.  My  hat  was  knocked 
about  twelve  feet  and  the  crown 
torn  out.  All  this  the  owl  did  with- 
out stopping  in  its  swoop.  I  recov- 
ered myself  just  in  time  to  receive  a  second 
charge  and  had  to  dodge  clear  to  the  ground. 
When  the  courageous  defender  of  home  and 
country  turned  for  its  third  attack  a  charge 
of  No.  10  met  it,  and  it  died  an  honorable 
death,  deserving  to  be  ranked  among  heroes. 
I  have  the  entire  set  preserved. 

I  have  a  flock  of  white-winged  crossbills 
spotted  in  a  spruce  forest  ten  miles  away, 
which  I  expect  will  nest  in  a  couple  of 
weeks,  but  I  doubt  if  I  can  reach  the  place, 
now  the  snow  is  going.  I  wore  snowshoes 
nest-hunting  yesterday,  but  probably  for  the 
last  time  this  year.  It  is  far  easier  snow- 
shoeing  over  the  snowy  tundras  than  walk- 
ing through  the  peat  and  water  and  "  nigger 
heads  "  after  the  snow  is  gone. 

May  21,  Sunday. — Uncle  Jimmy  and  Dr. 
Coffin  still  keep  up  the  Sunday  services. 
Three  of  the  Iowa  men  and  half  a  dozen 


Eskimos  have  come  in.  As  I  have  just  fin- 
ished a  bird  I  thought  it  a  good  idea  to 
desist  until  after  church,  on  Uncle  Jimmy's 
account.  So,  until  singing  begins,  I  will 
have  a  little  time  to  write.  I  cannot  afford 
to  waste  a  second  these  days.  Most  of  the 
snow  is  gone.  All  the  ponds  and  sloughs  are 
full  of  water  and  the  river  has  risen  fully 
eight  feet. 

All  the  slush  ice  has  gone,  but  the  thick 
winter  ice  is  on  top  and  extends  unbroken 
down  the  middle  of  the  river.  The  Eskimos 
say  that  if  the  warm  weather  and  high 
water  continue  this  ice  will  break  up  and 


The  Prisoner  We  Rescued. 

float  away  very  soon.  And  then  it  would  be 
"  finis  "  to  bird  collecting,  for  the  steamers 
would  whistle  and  we  would  all  have  to 
pack  up  and  start.  I  am  just  living  in  dread 
of  the  "  Helen."  I  would  not  cry  should  she 
spring  a  leak  or  otherwise  disable  herself,  so 
that  she  would  be  laid  up  until  the  last  of 
June.  This  is  a  wicked  thought  and  I  repent 
of  it.  Solitary  sandpipers  and  Baird's  sand- 
pipers are  here,  and  I  know  they  will  nest 
by  the  middle  of  June.  Small  birds  are  be 
ginning  to  arrive.  I  heard  the  beautiful  song 
of  the  fox  sparrow  for  the  first  time  this 
morning,  also  the  tree  sparrows  and  varied 
thrush.  I  saw  a  single  robin  yesterday  with 
its  familiar  call  note.  We  have  goose  din- 
ners galore,  but  the  geese  are  lean  and 
tough,  far  from  such  eating  as  they  were  in 
the  fall.  We  prefer  duck  and  ptarmigan. 
The  doctor  has  made  some  very  nice  cran- 
berry jelly  from  the  berries  which  have  been* 


78 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


stored  on  the  vines  under  the  snow  all  win- 
ter. The  native  women  and  children  picked 
over  two  gallons  yesterday,  which  they 
brought  to  us. 

May  24.-The  Kowak  is  breaking  up  and  it 
is  a  tremendous  sight.  The  water  has  risen 
until  it  is  on  a  level  with  the  bank  on  this 
side,  and  on  the  opposite  side  it  is  spreading 
out  over  the  tundras.  It  is  covered  com- 
pletely from  side  to  side  with  a  crunching, 
grinding  mass  of  ice  from  three  to  five  feet 
thick.  Yesterday  there  was  a  jam  on  a 
sand-bar  below  and  the  ice  course  was 
stopped.  Then  that  from  above  came  down 


The  Kowak  Breaking  Up. 

with  force,  crushing  and  piling  into  great 
ridges  of  blue  and  green  blocks  from  ten  to 
fifteen  feet  in  height.  There  must  be  a  tre- 
mendous momentum  in  a  moving  field  of 
ice.  In  one  place  a  field  many  yards  in 
diameter  was  forced  up  a  steep  bank  until  it 
toppled  over  on .  itself.  The  banks  are 
plowed  by  the  resistless  stream  and  trees 
are  broken  off  like  threads. 

Indian  Charley  borrowed  our  kyak,  which 
belongs  to  Rivers,  three  days  ago  to  go  up 
and  look  after  a  birch  canoe  which  he 
wanted  to  carry  out  of  reach  of  the  ice.  He 
was  only  going  as  far  as  the  Guardian 
Camp,  and  there  was  plenty  of  water  along 
the  edges  there.  He  was  expected  back  the 
same  day,  but  has  not  returned  yet.  We 
fear  he  has  lost  his  life.  His  father,  an  old, 
withered  man,  who  smoked  himself  last 
winter  when  Charley  was  sick,  walks  the 
river  bank  all  day  watching,  and  yesterday 
afternoon  cried  and  howled  a  long  time, 
mourning  "  Kayuruk "  who,  he  said,  was 
surely  "  mucky "  (dead).  I  saw  a  birch 
canoe  yesterday  crushed  and  lying  on  a 
passing  cake  of  ice. 


If  this  was  Charley's  he  must  have  met 
with  misfortune.  One  would  think  that  a 
native,  who  has  experienced  many  such  oc- 
currences, would  know  enough  to  keep  out 
of  harm's  way.  Night  before  last  a  couple 
of  the  Iowa  boys  spent  two  or  three  hours 
tramping  through  the  swamp  looking  for 
ducks  which  they  kept  hearing.  But  they 
were  not  able  to  catch  sight  of  the  authors 
of  the  numerous  "  quacks,"  which  always 
lured  them  to  greater  distance.  To-day, 
after  telling  everyone  of  the  strange  birds, 
the  boys  are  being  "  joshed  "  in  true  camp 
fashion.  The  bullfrogs  are  appearing  in 
every  pond  and  to-day  one  has  begun  his 
warble  in  a  pool  a  few  feet  from 
the  door.  We  did  not  expect  to 
see  frogs  so  far  north.  I  fail  to 
see  how  they  resemble  the  quack- 
ing of  ducks,  but  some  imagine 
the  sound  to  be  the  same.  The 
first  mosquitoes  are  abroad,  just 
a  few,  a  sort  of  "  foretaste,"  ac- 
cording to  Scripture.  The  birds 
are  arriving  in  large  numbers,  like 
a  stampede,  and  the  woods  are 
full  of  the  songs  of  robins, 
thrushes,  sparrows  and  warblers. 
I  am  working  hard,  too. 

May  31.  —  Oh,  but  spring  is 
lovely!  I  am  sure  I  never  spent 
three  such  happy  weeks,  and 
I  have  been  happy  all  my  life.  Yet  I  have 
been  working  hard,  some  days  until  I 
was  tired  enough  to  drop.  Last  week  I  went 
up  to  the  mountains  and  was  gone  forty- 
three  hours,  with  only  about  one  hour's 
sleep.  We  tramped  fifteen  miles  across  the 
tundra  with  heavy  rubber  boots  on,  sinking 
into  the  moss  and  among  the  "  nigger 
heads"  every  step.  And  then  through 
streams,  and  snow,  and  tangles  of  brush. 
The  second  day  it  rained  heavily  and  we 
started  home  at  7  p.  m.,  tramping  until  mid- 
night, when  we  reached  a  point  where  we 
had  left  our  boat  in  a  slough  about  two 
miles  below  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  Ko- 
wak. While  we  had  been  gone  the  river  had 
fallen  and  the  heavy  boat  was  high  and  dry. 
We  had  to  drag  it  through  a  narrow  channel 
over  mud  and  grass  a  hundred  yards  to  the 
river.  And  then  there  was  a  stiff  east  wind 
and  a  swift  current  to  cross  the  river 
against,  and  we  finally  had  to  tow  up  to  the 
landing.  There  were  four  of  us,  including 
Dr.  Coffin,  who  has  been  my  companion  in 
many  of  these  bird  hunts,  so  soon,  alas!  to 
be  over.  I  was  so  tired  when  I  got  in  that 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


79 


I  fell  asleep  half  undressed  and  without 
supper.  But  I  obtained  what  I  went  for, 
and  it  was  worth  the  hardships  —  white- 
winged  crossbill's  nests.  Young,  an  Iowa 
man  who  was  with  us,  fell  to  his  chest  in  a 
narrow  stream  of  ice  water,  and  we  were 
all  soaked  from  the  rain  and  dripping  under- 
brush. 

The  river  is  entirely  free  of  ice  now  and 
people  are  starting  down.  Many  are  passing 
every  day,  but  they  will  be  unable  to  go 
farther  than  the  delta,  for  the  Sound  doesn't 
clear  earlier  than  July  1. 

We  have  heard  that  the  "  Helen "  is  all 
right  and  is  expected  down  in  a  day  or  two. 
She  may  get  stuck  on  a  sand-bar.  If  so  I 
shall  have  a  week  longer  for  the  birds.  We 
have  been  packing  all  day.  I  have  a  good 
deal  of  stuff  in  bulk,  though  not  heavy.  I 
wouldn't  blame  the  boys  if  they  "  kicked." 
We  may  have  to  make  two  trips  from  here 
down.  We  learned  that  our  barge,  which 
we  left  last  fall  on  the  bank  of  the  Squirrel 
River  eighty  miles  below  us,  was  burned 
last  winter,  so  our  carrying  capacity  is 
limited.  The  steamer  "  Riley  "  has  been  re- 
paired. She  came  up  as  far  as  the  Hanson 
Camp  yesterday.  Indian  Charley  has  turned 
up  all  safe.  He  has  been  down  to  a  village 
below,  gambling  for  another  wife. 

According  to  the  Eskimos  I  am  to  die  be- 
fore the  snow  is  all  melted  off,  because  I 
robbed  that  jay's  nest.  Grass  is  springing 
up,  and  last  night,  while  I  was  strolling 
through  the  woods,  I  found  a  patch  of  cro- 
cuses. The  woods  were  beautiful,  the  long, 
deep  shadows  contrasting  with  the  yellow 
sunlight.  The  silence  was  intense,  and  yet 
there  were  many  sounds— the  quavering  song 
of  the  thrush,  breaking  out  and  then  dying 
back;  the  chorus  of  frogs  from  a  distant 
pond,  and  the  occasional  demoniacal  laugh 
of  a  loon.  Yet  it  was  silence  broken  in 
pieces.  The  scene  from  the  sand-dunes 
north  across  the  river  was  most  beautiful. 
I  wish  I  were  able  to  depict  the  scene  as  I 
perceived  it  and  the  indescribable  sensations 
it  awakened.  I  wonder  if  I  were  the 
same  age  as  Uncle  Jimmy  if  I  would  be  im- 
pressed the  same  way.  It  is  something  for 
me  to  remember  all  my  life,  this  wonderful 
winter  on  the  mighty  Kowak.  And  I  must 
bid  it  "  Good-by." 

We  had  a  regular  thunder  storm  to-day, 
with  a  heavy  shower  which  set  the  roof  to 
leaking,  in  spite  of  the  tents  stretched  over 
it.  Dr.  Coffin  has  inaugurated  a  new  decor- 
ation. It  denotes  rank  of  vice-president  of 
the  L.  B.  A.  M.  &  T.  Co.  A  double  row  of 


safety  pins  up  his  shirt  front.  There  are 
only  three  of  this  illustrious  company  at 
present  in  the  "  Penelope  "  cabin,  but  all  the 
more  need  of  distinctive  decorations. 

B.,  the  partially  demented  individual  who 
might  have  died  of  scurvy  last  winter  if  we 
hadn't  drawn  up  his  "  will "  for  him,  is  the 
source  of  amusement  to  us,  with  his  various 
tricks.  He  spends  most  of  his  time  on  the 
river  bank  watching  for  passing  boats.  He 
hails  everyone  with  a  mixed  set  of  ques- 
tions; first,  "Have  you  any  white  lead  for 
sale?"  second,  "Did  you  have  the  scurvy?" 
third,  "  Where'd  you  come  from?"  etc.,  until 
the  boat  is  out  of  hearing.  B.  has  a  skiff  he 
is  very  proud  of,  and  he  threatens  anyone 
who  touches  it.  I  am  on  very  good  terms 
with  him  and  he  tells  me  whenever  he  sees 
a  goose  on  the  river  (usually  it  is  a  loon). 
He  makes  a  noise  in  his  throat  like  a 
chicken  disturbed  after  it  has  gone  to  roost. 
I  do  not  know  what  will  become  of  him.  He 
is  perfectly  harmless. 

This  evening  I  traded  three  pounds  of 
raisins  for  a  sailor  bag.  I  have  more  clothes 
now  than  when  I  left  San  Francisco,  enough 
to  last  me  five  years.  Dr.  Coffin  is  a  real 
convert.  He  is  himself  a  "  bird  fiend  "  now, 
after  starting  that  nickname  for  me  in  the 
beginning.  He  thinks  of  stopping  this  sum- 
mer at  Dutch  Harbor.  If  it  keeps  on  I  shall 
have  the  whole  crew.  I  think  we  shall  pull 
out  from  the  company  entirely  and  so  es- 
cape the  turmoil  of  the  ultimate  disband- 
ment.  There  is  little  hope  of  realizing  from 
the  trip,  even  on  the  "  Penelope."  She  cost 
us  enough  in  the  first  place,  but  who  knows 
where  she  is  now? 

I  just  now  thought  I  heard  the  whistle  of 
the  "  Helen."  There  is  nothing  in  sight. 
That  "  Helen "  haunts  me.  She  it  is  who 
will  bear  me  away  from  this  fascinating 
region.  By  the  way,  she  has  a  fine  whistle. 
A  better  one  than  any  other  boat  on  the 
river.  Perhaps  we  can-  trade  that  whistle 
for  something,  even  if  nobody  will  accept 
the  gift  of  the  boat  and  engines.  Oh,  I  for- 
got; there's  Cape  Nome.  The  boys  there 
may  have  staked  out  rich  claims  for  us  by 
this  time.  However,  I  would  be  willing  to 
trade  all  my  stock  in  the  L.  B.  A.  M.  &  T. 
Co.  for  some  plaster-of-paris,  cotton  bat- 
ting and  some  arsenic. 

June  6.— My  last  date  on  the  Kowak.  The 
"  Helen  "  arrived  on  the  evening  of  the  2d. 
She  is  O.  K.  and  the  eight  boys  well.  They 
brought  down  with  them  a  man  who  is 
afflicted  with  black-leg,  too  helpless  to  leave. 


80 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN   ALASKA. 


We  shall  take  him  to  the  Mission,  so  we  are 
now  quite  a  large  family.  Nearly  every- 
one above  has  already  passed  down  the 
river  in  all  sorts  of  boats  and  rafts.  We 
have  persuaded  the  rest  to  remain  here  a 
few  days,  as  it  will  be  impossible  to  get  into 
the  Sound  so  early.  We  are  having  a  little 
more  time  for  game.  I  have  taken  several 
sets  of  rare  eggs,  and  have  a  number  of 
nests  "  spotted."  But  the  boys  are  getting 
restless  and  I  fear  we  will  have  to  pull  out 
to-morrow  or  next  day.  We  are  living 
"  high."  A  varied  assortment  was  served 


Some  Friends  We  Left  Behind. 

up  in  the  fricassee  yesterday  —  ten  old- 
squaws  (.ducks),  a  curlew,  two  ptarmigan, 
one  loon  and  a  blackbird.  Indian  Charley 
brought  us  twenty  fish,  so  we  have  plenty 
of  fresh  meat,  a  welcome  change  of  diet  for 
the  boys  of  the  upper  winter  camp,  as  they 
have  not  been  afflicted  with  a  bird  fiend  in 
their  crowd. 

The  steamer  "  Agnes  Boyd "  was  saved 
from  the  ice,  but  is  now  high  and  dry  on  a 
sand-bar  and  the  river  is  still  falling.  The 
hanson  boys  are  having  a  peck  of 
trouble  and  the  prospects  are  now  that 
they  will  not  get  out  until  the  August  rains 
come.  I  was  out  collecting  until  one  a.  m. 
night  before  last,  and  the  pink  sunlight 
never  left  the  mountain  peaks.  The  trees 
are  nearly  full  foliaged  to  a  beautiful  fresh 
green,  and  several  varieties  of  flowers  are 
in  bloom.  It  is  too  bad  to  be  compelled  to 
leave  here  just  at  this  season.  I  certainly 
can  never  regret  leaving  a  place  or  home  so 


much.  But  such  is  life.  We  hesitate  moving 
always.  And  yet  who  knows  but  there  may 
be  better  prospects  further  on?  It  is  with 
something  of  a  lump  in  my  throat  and  heart 
that  I  turn  my  back  on  what  has  been  the 
scene  of  such  wonderful  experiences  to  me. 
Still  I  must  say  it,  "  Good-by,  old  Kowak, 
good-by!"  Good-by,  mice,  little  redbacks; 
good-by,  sand-dunes  and  tundras,  winter, 
spruces,  birches,  cabin,  all.  Good-by,  Eski- 
mos, funny  people,  who  have  a  kind  heart 
in  a  little,  brown,  superstitious  body.  Here's 
the  deserted  village  for  missionary  souls, 
houses,  woodpiles,  pictures  yet  pinned 
on  the  walls,  echoes  of  Sunday  services 
and  literary  societies  —  and  voices  of 
gold  hunters. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

JUNE  12.— We  are  steaming  down 
one  of  the  numerous  channels  of 
the  Kowak  delta,  and  I  am  sitting 
on  the  upper  deck  of  the  "  Helen." 
The  channel  is  narrow  but  deep  and 
very  tortuous.  Half  an  hour  ago  we 
were  going  in  an  exactly  opposite  di- 
rection. The  banks  are  low  and  are 
lined  continuously  with  willows  whose 
branches  have  not  even  budded  out,  al- 
though up  the  river  we  left  the  trees 
in  full  foliage,  thus  indicating  the  sea- 
son to  be  much  later  along  the  coast 
than  in  the  interior.  We  have  met  no 
ice  in  the  stream,  but  there  is  plenty 
stranded  on  the  bars.  Some  Indians 
told  us  to-day  there  will  be  plenty 
of  ice  in  the  inlet  for  many  sleeps  yet, 
but  our  boys  want  to  see  for  themselves. 
I  think  it  a  great  mistake  to  have  left  the 
timber  so  early.  We  left  our  winter  home 
on  the  8th  of  June  and  traveled  three  days. 
Yesterday  we  tied  up  all  day  at  the  last 
timber  and  I  put  in  the  time  collecting.  I 
obtained  eight  sets  of  eggs,  a  little  brown 
crane  skin  put  up.  greasy  as  a  duck,  besides 
several  small  birds.  I  put  in  every  minute 
on  shore  and  am  getting  some  good  things, 
—sets  of  varied*  thrush,  gray-cheeked  thrush, 
etc. 

We  got  a  good  deal  of  game  yesterday. 
Everything  that  has  meat  on  it  goes  into  the 
pot.  The  fricassee  to-day  consisted  of  a 
crane,  two  ducks  and  a  loon,  all  cut  up  and 
boiled  together.  Jesse  Farrar  is  cook; 
Stevenson  is  fireman;  Casey,  engineer;  Wil- 
son and  Foote,  pilots;  Shafer,  Shaul.  Uncle 
Jimmy  and  I,  deck  hands;  the  doctor  and 
Colclough  comprise  the  fire  department. 


GOLD  HUNTING  IN  ALASKA. 


81 


And  this  last  is  a  very  important  organiza- 
tion. Sparks  from  the  smoke  stacks  catch 
on  sacks  or  anything  inflammable  and  soon 
start  a  smudge.  The  fire  department  imme- 
diately "  smell  smoke,"  and  extinguish  the 
conflagration  with  a  teacup  of  water.  The 
usual  seat  of  combustion  is  Casey's  jumper. 
Then  the  back  of  the  boiler  gets  almost  red 
hot  and  several  planks  get  to  scorching,  and 
even  some  of  the  cargo  is  in  danger.  With 
its  other  duties  the  department  has  put  in 
ventilators,  so  we  have  less  trouble.  The 
crowd  is  in  very  good  spirits.  The  quartette 
is  frequently  heard,  and  just  before  bed- 
time Poote  gets  out  his  banjo. 

This  morning  we  passed  a  camp  of  natives. 
Six  of  their  kyaks  came  out  and  followed 
us  a  long  way.  They  could  sail  circles 
around  the  scow.  They  are  very  dextrous 
with  their  funny  craft.  Just  before  leaving 
us  they  sang  in  chorus  "  There'll  Be  a  Hot 
Time."  Evidences  of  the  great  Kotzebue 
rush  will  be  found  among  the  Eskimos,  in 
their  language  as  well  as  in  other  ways,  for 
many  years  to  come. 

A  cold  west  wind  from  off  the  sea  ice 
blows  constantly,  and  the  weather  is  not  to 
be  compared  with  what  we  left  at  "  home." 
My  sorrow  at  leaving  the  cabin  does  not 
lessen.  The  "  Helen  "  is  loaded  very  heavily, 
but  we  managed  to  get  everything  on.  We 
have  great  times  keeping  her  on  an  even 
keel.  The  order,  "  Everyone  go  aft,"  or, 
"  Everyone  go  forward,"  is  frequently  heard. 
She  only  stuck  on  a  bar  once  coming  down, 
and  then  there  wasn't  much  trouble  in  get- 
ting her  off.  That  is  one  thing  in  which  our 
steamer  excels  many  others.  It  is  difficult 
to  make  her  run  aground  hard  enough  to 
stick.  She  doesn't  move  fast  enough.  The 
wheel  has  been  enlarged,  but  it  makes  little 
difference  in  her  speed;  the  engines  are  not 
large  enough.  Stevenson  keeps  from  150  to 
175  pounds  of  steam  in  her  boiler,  which  is 
really  more  than  ought  to  be  carried  for 
safety.  It  is  getting  cold  up  here  on  deck, 
and  I  am  going  down  to  the  boiler-room  to 
warm  up. 

June  18.— This  is  Sunday  und  Uncle  Jimmy 
thinks  I  ought  to  do  something  besides  skin 
birds  all  day,  so  probably  the  most  righteous 
act  would  be  to  write  in  my  mother's  diary. 
It  is  a  very  disagreeable  day.  It  has  snowed 
heavily  all  day,  melting  as  fast  as  it  falls 
and  sticking  to  everything.  We  have  the 
big  12  x  20  tent  up  among  the  spruces,  and 
the  cooking  range  keeps  the  interior  quite 
pleasant. 


The  crowd  has  been  in  the  tent  all  day 
singing  and  reading,  while  I  have  one  end 
of  the  long  table  for  "the  morgue."  The 
Iowa  party  is  camped  near  us,  and  their 
launch  "  Iowa  "  takes  trips  every  other  day 
to  the  inlet  ten  miles  down  the  river,  to  see 
the  state  of  the  ice.  Shaul  went  down  with 
her  yesterday,  but  they  report  the  ice  packed 
firmly  in  the  inlet  and  as  far  as  they  could 
see  towards  Kotzebue  Sound.  We  are 
camped  in  the  timber  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Kowak.  A  couple  of  warm  days  last  week 
brought  a  foretaste  of  the  mosquito  scourge 
which  we  expect,  but  they  do  not  promise 
to  bother  me  much.  Dr.  Coffin  is  so  kind  to 
me.  He  hunts  birds'  eggs  and  gives  me 
more  than  my  share.  Even  Uncle  Jimmy 
hunts  nests  in  the  woods,  having  located 
five  for  me  in  the  last  two  days.  Some  of 
the  good  things  we  have  taken  are  the  little 
brown  cranes,  black-throated  loon,  Hud- 
sonian  curlew  and  scaup  duck.  We  were  out 
over  the  tundra  all  day  yesterday  and  did 
not  get  back  until  this  morning.  I  remem- 
bered that  it  was  my  little  brother's  birth- 
day (the  one  who  is  so  fond  of  insects),  and 
I  managed  to  catch  two  butterflies  with  my 
hat  for  him.  I  saw  several,  but  they  were 
pretty  active,  and  it  is  hard  running  over 
the  mossy  hummocks  and  bogs  after  them. 
I  shot  a  crane  yesterday  and  the  doctor  got 
one  a  few  days  before.  They  are  fine  eat- 
ing, better  than  any  birds  except  ptarmigan. 
We  have  two  seines,  and  Casey,  Shafer  and 
Foote  comprise  the  fishery  department.  Dr. 
Coffin  and  I  keep  the  camp  in  game,  so  we 
have  plenty  of  fresh  meat.  We  got  three 
dozen  duck  eggs  one  day,  and  now  Shafer 
makes  fine  cookies  and  doughnuts.  I 
blow  all  the  fresh  eggs,  and  the  contents  are 
therefore  all  ready  for  "  scrambles  "  or  bak- 
ing. 

We  are  a  jolly  crowd  and  no  one  would 
believe  us  to  be  disappointed  gold-hunters. 
The  main  occupation  of-  this  branch  of  the 
L.  B.  A.  M.  &  T.  Co.  at  present  is  bird-nest- 
ing. I  hope  we  have  to  stay  here  two  weeks 
yet.  Day  and  night  are  all  the  same  to  us 
nowadays.  I  seldom  get  to  bed  before  one 
a.  m.,  and  am  up  for  breakfast  at  eight.  The 
snow  is  beginning  to  stay  this  evening  and 
the  landscape  is  whitening.  This  is  such 
weather  as  the  old  Arctic  explorers  met  with 
all  summer  when  they  suffered  so  much 
from  exposure,  but  a  warm,  dry  tent  like 
ours,  with  plenty  of  wood,  keeps  us  comfort- 
able and  very  far  from  martyrs  to  the 
"  cause."  The  winds  are  very  chilly,  and  I 
really  suffered  more  from  cold  last  night  as 


82 


GOLD  HUNTING  IN  ALASKA. 


we  were  sailing  up  the  river  to  camp  than  I 
did  all  last  winter.  It  is  hard  to  keep  one's 
feet  dry.  If  I  wear  hip  boots  I  am  sure  to 
step  into  some  hole  in  a  swamp  and  get 
them  full.  One  time  I  went  in  to  my  waist 
by  surprise  when  I  was  wading  in  the  edge 
of  a  pond  after  a  grebe's  nest.  For  an  in- 
stant I  was  deprived  of  speech,  which  was  a 
great  hardship.  The  ice  is  getting  "rotten  " 
rapidly,  with  the  heavy  winds  breaking  it 
up. 

Kowak  Delta,  Sunday,  June  25.— I  am  sit- 
ting on  a  heap  of  spruce  boughs  before  an 


Steamer  on  the  River. 

open  fire  in  the  woods.  There  is  a  heavy 
wind  blowing  and  the  tents  and  steamer  at 
the  river  bank  are  altogether  too  airy.  This 
is  a  much  more  sheltered  and  comfortable 
spot.  We  have  been  at  this  camp  two  weeks, 
but  will  probably  pull  out  to-morrow  and  go 
down  to  the  mouth  of  the  river,  and,  as  soon 
as  the  weather  is  favorable,  go  across  the 
dreaded  Holtham  Inlet  and  on  to  the  Mis- 
sion. The  launch  "  Iowa "  reports  the  ice 
breaking  up  at  the  river  mouth  and  moving 
out.  For  a  while  there  was  quite  a  large 
community  of  tents  along  the  river  each  side 
of  ours,  but  they  have  all  started  down  now. 
The  "  Agnes  Boyd  "  passed  us,  having  been 
laid  up  on  a  bar  several  days.  She  brought 
the  sad  news  of  the  death  of  Jack  Messing, 
one  of  the  San  Jose  crew  of  the  Hanson 
Camp.  He  was  found  dead  in  his  bed  on  the 
steamer.  Five  other  men  were  sleeping 


with  him,  but  noticed  nothing  unnatural  un- 
til they  attempted  to  arouse  him  for  break- 
fast. Jack  was  a  sociable,  good-hearted 
fellow,  and  many  were  the  pleasant  visits 
exchanged  between  him  and  members  of  our 
camp  last  winter.  It  is  reported  that  an  In- 
dian shot  two  white  men  over  on  the  Selawik 
this  spring.  As  the  natives  tell  the  story, 
the  Indian  was  entirely  justified.  They 
forced  him  to  mend  a  sled  at  the  muzzle  of  a 
revolver,  and  scared  him  so  that  he  finally 
tried  to  run  away.  They  picked  up  rifles 
and  started  after  him.  But  he  got  behind  a 
tree  with  his  own  rifle  and  anticipated  them 
to  the  number  of  one  man. 
_ ^__M-_—-.  Many  men  are  still  crippled 
with  the  scurvy.  On  the 
Pick  River  fifty-two  men 
out  of  sixty  were  down  with 
black-leg.  The  schooner 
"  Life  "  wintered  near  Sela- 
wik Lake  with  nine  men 
aboard.  Missionary  Samms 
received  word  by  the  Eski- 
mos that  these  men  were 
sick  with  the  scurvy  and 
were  helpless.  So  he  set  out 
to  their  aid.  He  returned  a 
few  days  ago.  reporting  that 
five  out  of  the  nine  had  died 
and  the  other  four  were  re- 
covering. It  is  an  awful 
disease,  and  many  more 
have  perished  from  that 
cause  than  from  disaster  or 
accident.  It  is  strange  that 
our  company  has  escaped 
so  far  all  such  mishaps,  but 
we  are  not  out  of  danger  yet. 
As  we  see  them,  the  general  run  of  people 
are  impatient  to  get  home,  are  cross  and 
quarrelsome.  Many  are  the  "  scraps "  and 
differences  among  companies.  It  is  a  com- 
mon thing  to  hear  men  cursing  each  other 
bitterly  over  such  trivialities  as  loading  a 
boat  or  setting  up  a  tent.  Sometimes  part- 
ners will  divide  their  supplies,  even  break- 
ing a  spoon  or  knife  in  two  to  "  make  it 
even."  I  am  glad  to  say  that  our  crowd  is 
remarkably  free  from  such  things.  The 
usual  sounds  are  of  singing  and  joviality. 
The  doctor  and  I  have  frequent  friendly 
word  fights  over  such  topics  as,  "Which 
way  the  wind  blows  to  bring  rain."  whether 
a  "  light  object  floats  down  stream  as  fast 
as  a  heavy  one;"  or,  "how  close  to  the  wind 
we  can  sail  the  boat."  But  if  there  is  one 
of  us  assailed  on  any  point  by  anyone  else 
we  both  agree  at  once,  and  bring  consterna- 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


83 


tion  to  the  ranks  of  the  enemy.  Someone 
made  the  statement  the  other  day  that  a 
razor  becomes  sharper  if  left  for  a  while 
unused,  and  every  man  except  the  doctor 
and  myself  was  of  the  same  mind.  Think 
of  such  a  tradition  in  this  enlightened  age! 
Several  maintained  that  for  that  reason  they 
kept  two  razors,  using  them  alternate  weeks. 
When  we  especially  feel  the  need  of  mental 
exercise,  the  doctor  and  I  argue  on  physical 
and  mental  evolution,  and  on  this  subject 
the  other  boys  let  us  alone  for  good  reasons. 

Last  night  the  doctor,  Casey  and  I  went 
hunting,  and  did  not  return  before  2  a.  m. 
this  morning.  We  started  about  four  and 
went  up  a  slough  until  we  came  to  open 
tundra.  It  began  storming  about  eight  and 
blew  and  rained  heavily  all  night.  We  had 
agreed  to  be  back  to  the  skiff  by  nine,  and 
Casey  and  I  were  on  hand  before  that  time, 
but  the  doctor  did  not  appear.  In  spite  of 
our  oil  coats  we  were  soon  wet  and  shiver- 
ing. After  waiting  a  while  and  hearing  no 
shooting  which  might  announce  the  doctor's 
approach,  we  set  out  and  walked  to  where 
he  was  last  seen  by  us  at  the  edge  of  a  lake, 
but  could  discover  no  sign.  We  began  to  be 
alarmed  and,  returning  to  the  slough,  spent 
a  couple  of  the  most  miserable  hours.  We 
managed  to  start  a  fire  at  the  foot  of  a  soli- 
tary scrub  spruce  and  were  speculating 
gloomily  as  to  what  might  have  happened, 
when  we  heard  a  distant  shot.  The  doctor 
came  wearily  tramping  across  the  tundra, 
and  was  more  happy  than  we  to  get  back  to 
the  boat.  He  had  become  mixed  up  among 
some  sloughs  and  lakes.  He  had  followed 
around  a  large  lake  several  miles,  only  to 
find  progress  stopped  by  a  slough  joining 
that  lake  with  another.  He  then  retraced 
his  steps  to  his  first  starting  point  and  be- 
gan over  again.  His  boots  were  full  of 
water  and  he  was  of  course  drenched,  for 
he  had  left  his  oil  coat  at  the  boat.  When 
we  got  home  we  were  glad  to  find  Shafer  up 
and  a  warm  tent.  He  got  us  a  hot  supper 
and  to-day  we  are  none  the  worse.  The  doc- 
tor got  an  old  goose  with  her  four  downy 
young.  I  found  a  set  of  pin-tail's  eggs  and 
shot  some  ducks  and  a  ptarmigan. 

The  tundra  is  curiously  marked  off  in 
many  places  by  ridges  and  ditches  running 
at  right  angles  to  one  another.  The  ditches 
are  full  of  water,  and  the  tundra  resembles 
a  California  alfalfa  field  laid  off  in  squares 
by  irrigating  ditches.  I  cannot  think  of  a 
cause  for  this  formation.  The  numerous 
lakes  and  ponds  are  many  of  them  higher 
than  the  surrounding  laud,  and  are  hemmed 


in  by  dykes  three  or  four  feet  high.  These 
are  thrown  up  by  the  floes  of  ice  in  the 
lakes  which,  decreasing  in  size  as  the  sum- 
mer advances,  are  driven  back  and  forth 
across  the  lakes  by  changing  winds,  and 
thus  crowd  up  the  mud  and  sod  around  the 
edges.  The  dryer  parts  of  the  tundra  are 
covered  with  the  white  reindeer  moss,  really 
a  lichen,  and  under  and  among  this  a  thick 
mat  of  sphagnum  and  other  mosses.  This 
is  soaked  full  of  water,  and  it  is  like  walking 
over  a  bed  of  sponges,  where  one  "  sloshes  " 
in  five  or  six  inches  at  every  step,  to  travel 
over  such  ground.  Then  on  lower  ground 
a  sort  of  bunch  grass  grows  in  big,  stout 
tussocks,  "  nigger  heads,"  with  water  and 
loose  moss  between.  This  last  is  the  worst 
walking. 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

MISSION  INLET,  Cape  Blossom,  July  1, 
1899.— We  came  across  Holtham  Inlet 
in  good  order  Tuesday.  That  was  the 
only  day  so  far  that  any  steamers  have  come 
through.  The  weather  was  fine  for  us  and 
a  broad  channel  was  open  and  clear  of  ice 
as  far  as  the  Mission.  The  same  evening  a 
west  wind  arose  and  the  ice  has  been  shift- 
ing back  and  forth  across  the  inlet  ever 
since.  The  "  Riley,"  "  Agnes  Boyd,"  "  De- 
light," "  Mattie  Farington,"  "  Nugget,"  and 
"  Iowa  "  came  through  the  same  day,  and 
all  are  here  in  the  little  harbor  safe  from  the 
ice  floes.  The  sea  ice  stretches  unbrokenly 
from  a  couple  of  miles  below  the  Mission 
across  to  the  north  side  of  the  Sound,  and 
no  one  has  been  able  to  get  in  or  out  of  the 
Sound  except  a  couple  of  natives,  who 
crossed  from  Point  Hope  on  a  sled.  They 
report  the  ice  as  firm  as  winter,  with  no 
prospect  of  its  breaking  up,  and  say  that  it 
will  be  "  twenty  sleeps  "  before  we  can  ex- 
pect to  get  through,  and  "  maybe  the  ice 
won't  break  up  at  all."  The  beach  from 
here  to  the  Mission  is  lined  with  tents  and 
presents  quite  an  animated  scene.  Every- 
one expects  to  go  to  Cape  Nome  as  early  as 
possible.  We  have  no  word  from  our  good 
ship  "  Penelope  "  later  than  May  3,  and  she 
was  all  right  then.  She  wintered  seventy 
miles  below  Cape  Blossom.  The  weather  is 
very  cold  and  disagreeable.  Heavy  winds 
bring  penetrating  fogs  from  off  the  ice,  with 
storms  of  rain  and  sleet,  and  we  have  had  a 
heavy  snowstorm.  We  have  our  two  10  x  20 
tents  up,  end  to  end,  on  the  gravel  bar  sep- 
arating the  "  goose  pond  "  from  the  Sound, 
and  have  very  comfortable  quarters.  In  one 


84 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


tent  is  the  cook  stove  and  dining-table.  and 
the  other  is  a  sort  of  parlor  with  the  big 
heater  in  use.  We  loaded  up  heavily  with 
wood  before  leaving  timber  on  the  Kowak, 
but  I  think  we  shall  have  to  make  another 
trip  for  wood  before  long.  Everything  in 
the  line  of  driftwood  is  cleaned  up  in  this 
vicinity,  but  there  will  be  the  usual  annual 
crop  when  the  ice  breaks  up. 

I  just  now  heard  a  gull  squalling  and  ran 
out  with  my  gun  in  time  to  get  a  shot  at  a 
Pomarine  jager  which  was  in  pursuit  of  it. 
I  got  the  jager  all  right  and  it  is  a  fine  bird, 
the  first  I  have  obtained  of  this  species.  The 
long-tailed  and  parasitic  jagers  are  quite 
common.  I  found  a  nest  of  each  on  the 
Kowak  delta.  Yesterday  I  found  four  sets 
of  the  eggs  of  the  northern  phalarope,  and 
shot  three  golden  plover,  which  are  the  first 
I  have  taken.  Collecting  now  is  very  un- 
comfortable. I  wrear  the  same  heavy  mit- 
tens, July  1,  which  I  wore  all  winter,  and 
in  fact  heavier  clothing  all  through  than  was 
worn  at  thirty  degrees  below  zero.  Our 
warm  parlor  tent  is  quite  an  attraction  and 
we  have  plenty  of  company  as  usual  with 
us.  We  are  talking  about  mail.  No  news 
from  the  outside  world  since  September  15 
of  last  year. 

July  15. — Somewhere  in  Bering  Sea  off  the 
Alaskan  Coast. — I  am  sitting  on  the  coal-box 
in  the  galley  on  board  the  "  Penelope."  I 
am  a  fixture  between  the  fire-box  of  the 
cooking  range  and  the  window,  and  have  to 
flatten  myself  against  the  wall  to  keep  from 
burning  my  clothes.  There  are  four  "  gal- 
ley slaves "  in  this  6x8  coop,  but  this  is 
absolutely  the  only  place  possible  to  write 
in.  The  sea  is  smooth,  with  a  light  breeze, 
which  is  ahead.  Foggy  as  usual  and  very 
chilly.  The  galley  is  the  only  place  except 
in  bed  where  one  can  warm  up,  and  it  is  in 
pretty  lively  demand  whenever  the  cook 
does  not  claim  full  possession.  There  are 
twenty-four  men  aboard,  but  all  have  gone 
to  bed  save  the  captain  and  three  men  on 
watch.  The  captain  has  scarcely  slept  a 
wink  since  we  started  a  week  ago.  The 
strong  currents,  unfavorable  winds,  and 
thick  weather  are  retarding  us  unexpectedly. 

We  were  watching  on  the  Sound  on  July  3 
when  two  schooners  were  sighted  through 
the  ice  off  Cape  Blossom.  On  the  4th  five  of 
us  went  out  in  a  small  boat  and  were  de- 
lighted to  find  one  of  them  to  be  the  "  Pen- 
elope," all  safe  and  in  good  time.  Captain 
Delano  and  the  four  boys,  Miller,  Clyde, 
Brown  and  Rivers,  must  have  Ijad  a  very 


rough  experience,  being  on  duty  twenty-four 
hours  at  a  time.  The  ice  in  Escholtz  Bay, 
where  the  schooner  wintered,  began  break- 
ing up  and  moving  out  on  June  15,  and  from 
that  date  until  she  anchored  off  Cape  Blos- 
som, the  "  Penelope "  and  her  little  crew 
were  at  the  mercy  of  the  ice  floes.  They 
had  very  narrow  escapes  from  being  pinched 
between  floes  or  crowded  aground.  Once 
they  were  forced  on  a  bar  and  only  got  the 
ship  out  of  her  danger  by  breaking  the  ice 
up  around  her  and  "  kedging "  out.  At  one 
place  their  stint  of  open  water  was  narrow- 
ing, as  the  ice  pack  drifted  toward  shore, 
and  something  had  to  be  done  immediately 
or  they  were  lost.  A  strong  off-shore  wind 
was  blowing,  and  the  captain  set  all  sail 
and  headed  straight  for  the  ice.  When  the 
"  Penelope  "  met  it  with  full  force  she  raised 
herself  up,  sliding  gracefully  on  to  the  floe, 
and  then  her  weight  broke  it  down.  Then 
she  plowed  through  the  ice  until  she 
reached  a  strip  of  open  water  beyond,  where 
she  was  safe  for  the  time  being.  And  with 
all  her  battlings  the  "  Penelope "  came 
through  with  scarcely  more  than  a  skin 
scratch  on  her  sides.  Before  the  ice  broke 
up  the  captain  had  repaired  her,  painting 
her  white  with  blue  trimmings,  and  renovat- 
ing her  from  deck  to  hold.  Six  vessels  win- 
tered near  her  and  their  captains  all  agree 
that  it  was  little  less  than  a  miracle  that 
any  were  saved.  Two,  the  "  Ainsworth " 
and  one  other,  were  wrecked  by  the  ice. 
The  "  General  McPherson  "  and  "  Penelope  " 
had  about  the  best  anchorage  for  the  winter, 
in  a  cove  behind  the  Chain  Peninsular. 

July  5  and  6  were  stormy  and  nothing 
could  be  done  but  straighten  out  accounts 
with  various  parties  at  the  Mission.  Many 
who  left  earlier  in  the  Cape  Nome  rush,  bor- 
rowed or  bought  provisions  from  the  stores 
on  the  "  Penelope,"  and  left  orders  for  us  to 
collect  from  their  representatives  when  we 
should  get  down  in  July.  They  thus  saved 
the  labor  of  hauling  their  stuff  on  the  first 
part  of  their  trip,  as  the  "  Penelope  "  was  a 
hundred  miles  on  the  way.  We  have  heard 
nothing  of  our  Cape  Nome  contingent.  On 
July  7  we  had  fine,  calm  weather,  and 
loaded  the  "  Penelope,"  making  two  trips 
out  to  where  she  was  anchored,  nine  miles 
from  the  Mission  off  Cape  Blossom.  These 
two  trips  were  our  last  with  the  "  Helen." 
We  also  took  on  six  passengers  and  their 
freight  to  Cape  Nome,  besides  two  sailors 
who  worked  their  passage.  It  was  decided 
that  the  poor  "  Helen  "  must  be  left,  and,  in 
case  we  should  not  return  for  her  this  sum- 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


85 


mer,  Missionary  Samms  could  have  her. 
She  never  could  stand  a  sea,  and  if  we  took 
her  machinery  back  to  San  Francisco  it 
would  not  be  worth  much  more  than  old 
iron.  There  goes  $1,800!  Be  this  her  epi- 
taph: "She  served  her  purpose,  if  she  was 
slow." 

We  set  sail  southeast  from  Cape  Blossom 
on  the  8th  and  anchored  off  Chamisso  Island 
on  the  9th  for  water.  It  was  too  rough  to 
load  the  water  tanks  until  night,  and  we  had 
until  midnight  on  the  island.  I  was  de- 
lighted—fairly wild!  There  are  big  rookeries 
of  murres,  puffins  and  gulls  on  a  detached 
islet,  and  a  party  of  us  made  landing  and 
collected  forty  dozen  eggs.  I  went  over  the 
cliffs  on  a  rope  and  was  hauled  up  and  down 
their  faces.  There  was  little  danger  except 
from  falling  rocks  which  might  be  loosened 
above  me,  and  we  were  always  very  careful 
about  that.  I  had  a  good  crew,  with  Dr. 
Coffin  as  foreman.  The  murres  lay  their 
eggs  on  little  projections  or  narrow  shelves 
of  rocks  on  the  face  of  the  cliff,  in  most 
places  entirely  inaccessible  save  from  above. 
At  the  last  descent  I  had  one  scare. 
Whether  the  boys  above  me  had  an  equal 
scare  I  will  leave  them  to  say.  I  was  about 
fifty  feet  below  the  edge  of  a  precipice  and 
probably  the  same  distance  above  the  rocks 
in  the  surf.  I  had  obtained  everything 
within  reach  and  had  yelled  to  "  hoist 
away,"  but  got  no  response.  I  was  too  far 
down  to  hear  the  voices  of  those  above, 
neither  could  they  hear  me.  The  rope  didn't 
budge  and  I  continued  swaying  in  uncer- 
tainty in  mid-air,  rather  dubious  as  to  the 
result.  Finally  I  gave  a  successful  "  yank  " 
on  the  rope,  and  was  then  jerked  upward  at 
a  great  rate  of  speed,  scraping  my  elbows 
and  shins  in  my  frantic  efforts  against  being 
thumped  against  the  sharp  projecting  rocks. 
When  I  rose  over  the  edge  I  found  six  men 
on  the  rope.  Three  were  usually  sufficient, 
but  this  last  trip  the  three  could  not  start 
the  rope,  and  not  until  the  sixth  man,  Casey, 
took  hold,  did  it  give  an  inch.  We  found 
that  the  rope  had  caught  in  a  narrow  chink 
in  the  rocks.  Had  it  required  one  more  man 
to  start  me,  where  would  he  have  been 
found?  I  probably  should  have  been  left  to 
swing  for  many  hours.  But  I  wasn't.  Noth- 
ing happened  wherewith  to  satisfy  the  ad- 
venture-loving and  "  narrow  escape  "  crav- 
ing modern  journal,  and  I  haven't  all  the 
eggs  blown  yet.  Either  I  have  been  seasick 
or  on  duty.  Besides,  popular  sentiment  is 
against  me.  The  boys  don't  like  the  idea  of 
eating  the  egg  after  it  is  blown  by  my  pipe 


from  the  shell.  In  vain  I  assure  them  that 
the  blow-pipe  is  thoroughly  disinfected  ac- 
cording to  the  latest  advices  of  science. 
They  insist  upon  seeing  the  shells  cracked 
open,  lest  there  might  lurk  some  hidden 
secret  within  known  only  to  Shafer  and  my- 
self. This  new  lack  of  faith  on  the  part  of 
the  hitherto  "  nice  boys  "  is  very  disastrous 
to  scientific  investigation.  I  thmk  they 
might  trust  me,  for  I  eat  at  the  same  table 
and  get  away  with  my  share  of  doughnuts 
and  cookies.  I  leave  it  to  Shafer  if  I  don't. 
Dr.  Coffin  and  Rivers  have  taken  the  egg 
craze,  so  between  us  three  I  hope  a  good 
series  will  be  saved  out  of  the  lot. 

On  Chamisso  Island  we  saw  records 
carved  on  logs  in  a  fair  state  of  preservation 
of  the  visit  of  "  H.  B.  M.  S.  Blossom,  1826," 


Iceberg. 

"  H.  B.  M.  S.  Herald,  1848,"  and  some  Rus- 
sian vessel  1837.  Those  were  some  of  the 
old  Arctic  explorers. 

At  2  a.  m.  July  10,  the  "  Penelope  "  set  sail 
westward  out  of  Kotzebue  Sound,  and  after 
dodging  through  scattering  ice  and  close 
along  the  south  shore,  sometimes  in  thirteen 
feet  of  water,  she  got  safely  out  into  the 
open  beyond  Cape  Espinberg.  We,  with  one 
other,  were  the  first  boats  out  this  year. 
The  ice  opened  first  this  season  on  just  the 
opposite  side  of  the  Sound  to  that  of  last 
year.  We  had  a  good  gale  in  the  Arctic  and 
another  in  Bering  Sea  just  after  getting 
through  the  Straits.  It  was  fearfully  rough 
and  how  the  "  Penelope"  did  pitch  and  roll! 
Worse  than  any  time  in  the  Pacific  last  year. 
I  was  seasick  and  so  was  almost  everyone. 

I  belong  to  the  Sailors'  Union  this  year. 
Brownie  is  assistant  cook,  as  I  was  last 
year.  WTe  sailors  are  divided  into  watches 
of  four  hours  each,  three  men  in  each  watch, 
giving  one  hour  and  twenty  minutes  at  the 
wheel  to  each  man.  I,  with  Clyde  and 


86 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


Rivers,  am  on  from  12  to  4.  Eight  hours  a 
day  on  deck  and  sixteen  off,  doesn't  read  like 
hard  work,  but  it's  plenty. 

We  have  had  only  the  worst  weather. 
Until  we  got  through  the  Straits  we  encoun- 
tered frequent  squalls  of  snow  and  sleet. 
To-day  it  has  been  rainy  and  foggy.  It  is 
difficult  to  keep  one's  hands  and  feet  warm 
during  the  hour  and  twenty  minutes  at  the 
wheel,  even  with  our  best  clothing  on.  I 
could  not  report  for  duty  during  the  gales. 
We  have  seen  several  vessels,  and  last  night 
spoke  the  whaling  tender  "  Bonanza."  Her 
captain  yelled  at  us  that  there  is  "  A  big 
strike  at  Cape  Nome!"  I  am  inclined  to 
think  that  the  whole  world  is  making  fun  at 
the  expense  of  these  "  fool  gold-hunters,"  as 


Off  Cape  Nome. 

we  are  called.  I  wish  I  were  at  Dutch  Har- 
bor collecting  birds.  Later,  11 : 30. — A  breeze 
has  sprung  up  favorably  and  the  captain 
says  we  are  within  fifty  miles  of  Cape 
Nome. 

Cape  Nome,  July  20.— Got  in  all  safe  and 
anchored  close  off  shore.  Boys  have  located 
seven  claims  not  yet  developed.  Plenty  of 
gold  in  sight.  Hurrah  for  the  Arctic  gold- 
hunters  of  the  "Penelope"  crew! 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

NOME,  July  26.— After  an  eleven 
£)    days'    voyage    from    Kotzebue    Sound 
we    anchored    off    Anvil    City    on    the 
morning   of   the   20th.      Those   eleven   days 
make   a   nightmare.    A   succession    of   head 
gales    with    dense    fogs.     We    were    almost 


within  sight  of  our  destination  when  a 
southeaster  began  to  hum  through  the  rig- 
ging and  a  thick  fog  set  in.  The  "Pen- 
elope "  hove  to  and  for  two  days  we  ex- 
perienced a  mtist  disagreeable  combination 
of  rolling  and  pitching,  with  their  inevitable 
conditions.  When  the  clouds  finally  lifted 
we  were  back  in  Bering  Straits.  The  north- 
ward current  is  remarkably  strong  at  this 
season  and  it  is  almost  impossible  to  stem 
it  unless  there  is  a  fair  wind,  which  in  our 
case  did  finally  favor  us.  We  found  our 
Cape  Nome  representatives  all  here  save 
Cox,  who  was  left  with  some  claims  toward 
Fish  River.  All  are  well,  but  from  their 
account  they  must  have  had  some  sorry  ex- 
periences. Dr.  Gleaves,  Gale  and  party  were 
lost  in  the  overland 
trip  and  ran  out  of 
provisions,  resort- 
ing to  their  seven- 
teen dogs  for  food 
in  the  last  pinch. 
They  finally 
reached  supplies 
with  barely  enough 
meat  for  two  days 
longer.  Close 
shave.  The  body  of 
Dr.  De  France  of 
the  "  Iowa  "  party, 
was  found  frozen 
in  the  trail  in  the 
mountains. 

On  the  22d  the 
"  Penelope  "  sailed 
up  the  coast  to  our 
claims,  which  are 

located  on  the  beach  seven  miles  west  of 
Anvil  City.  Here  we  have  unloaded  sup- 
plies and  will  proceed  to  work  the  claims 
far  enough  to  see  what  they  are  good 
for.  I  have  not  visited  "  town "  yet, 
but  there  must  be  two  thousand  in- 
habitants living  mostly  in  tents  or  drift- 
wood shacks.  Several  warehouses  have 
been  built  and  two  substantial  frame  build- 
ings are  going  up.  They  say  there  are  ten 
thousand  men  in  this  district,  mostly  scat- 
tered out  among  the  hills.  Five  thousand 
claims  are  recorded,  but  of  these  only  about 
a  dozen  are  known  to  be  of  value.  Four 
are  so  far  being  worked,  but  these  I  know 
to  be  extremely  rich,  for  anyone  can  look  on 
and  see  the  "  shining "  as  it  is  separated 
from  the  gravel  in  the  sluice  boxes.  Shafer 
and  Stevenson  were  at  these  workings  a  day 
or  two  ago  and  saw  two  shovelfuls  taken 
up  indiscriminately  pan  out  one  $6  and  the 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


87 


other  $8.  These  rich  claims  are  in  little 
caiions  or  ravines  seven  miles  back  from  the 
coast  in  the  hills.  This  is  really  a  gold  bear- 
ing region,  for  one  can  find  colors  almost 
anywhere.  We  can  get  from  twenty-five  to 
two  hundred  colors  to  a  pan  on  our  claims 
here,  but  they  are  very  fine,  and  I  doubt 
their  being  saved  in  sluice  boxes.  The 
beach  claims  contain  plenty  of  gold,  but  it 
will  require  improved  machinery  to  make 
them  pay. 

I  have  left  my  bird  skins  and  everything 
except  a  single  change  of  clothing  on  the 
"  Penelope,"  as  we  all  have  done.    But  I  am 
afraid  my  collection  is  liable  to  damage  from 
rats  or  mould.    There  is  no  place  on  shore 
to  put  the  stuff  and  no  through  vessels  that 
I  know  of  to  ship 
it  by.      The  "  Pen- 
elope "    left    night 
before  last  to  take 
a  prospecting  party 
thirty   miles   down 
the  coast  to  exam- 
ine   some    country 
there  and  then  to 
visit     the     claims 
where     Cox     was 
left.     Nine    of    us 
are  left  here,  with 
Harry  Reynolds  as 
foreman.     We    are 
at  present  digging 
holes   in   various 
places  to  see  if  we 
can  find  the  "pay 
streak."     No    suc- 
cess   yet.    The 
gold  on  the  beach 

is  not  "  wash "  cjold,  but  no  doubt  comes 
from  the  bluff  which  borders  the  beach 
about  one  hundred  feet  back  from  the 
surf.  From  this  bluff  the  smooth  tundra  ex- 
tends back  some  five  miles  to  the  hills.  An- 
vil City  is  at  the  mouth  of  Snake  River, 
which  extends  back  through  the  hills  and 
heads  in  the  high  mountain  ranges  which 
we  can  just  see  through  the  gap.  Anvil 
Creek,  Snow  Gulch  and  Glacier  Creek,  the 
rich  spots,  are  tributaries  of  Snake  River. 
To  the  westward  is  Penny  River,  but  this 
whole  country,  including  thirty  miles  along 
the  water  front,  is  all  staked  out.  The  dis- 
trict is  under  military  control,  and  twenty 
soldiers  are  stationed  at  Anvil  City.  With- 
out them  there  might  be  trouble.  It  seems 
that  the  first  men  to  this  region,  the  so-called 
"  discoverers,"  staked  out  as  many  as  one 
hundred  claims  each  under  power  of  attor- 


ney. They  then  formed  a  mining  district 
and  passed  a  law  that  powers  of  attorney 
cannot  hold,  thus  handicapping  those  who 
have  come  in  since,  so  one  man  can  take  up 
but  one  claim.  The  other  night  a  miners' 
meeting  was  called  in  town  to  consider  the 
matter.  A  resolution  was  brought  up  which, 
if  carried,  would  throw  the  whole  district 
open  to  be  restaked.  The  lieutenant  was 
there  and  he  knew  that  if  this  passed  there 
would  be  serious  trouble.  He  informed  the 
meeting  that  if  this  resolution  was  brought 
up  he  would  clear  the  house.  After  some 
deliberation  the  resolution  was  couched  in 
a  different  form,  disguising  its  intent,  but 
the  officer  kept  his  word  and  ordered  the 
house  cleared.  There  was  some  hesitation 


Main  Street,  Anvil  City. 

and  several  toughs  even  looked  resistance, 
but  the  order  was  given  to  fix  bayonets. 
The  meeting  was  thus  broken  up  and  noth- 
ing more  has  been  done. 

The  original  staking  was  doubtless  unfair, 
but  if  the  district  were  now  reopened  it 
would  be  worse.  There  'is  little  lawlessness 
in  Anvil  City,  on  account  of  the  militia.  A 
good  many  claims  have  been  jumped  and 
some  of  them  two  or  three  times.  This  will 
give  work  to  the  lawyers.  Several  of  our 
own  claims  have  been  jumped,  but  we  are 
on  them  now  and  possession  is  nine  points 
of  the  law. 

July  30.— This  is  Sunday  and  a  day  of  rest 
for  us.  We  have  worked  pretty  hard  the 
past  week.  In  fact  this  is  the  first  mining 
the  L.  B.  A.  M.  &  T.  Co.  has  done.  Prospect 
holes  have  been  dug  in  different  parts  of  the 
claims.  Uncle  Jimmy  and  I  were  set  to  dig- 


88 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


ging  a  hole  back  on  the  tundra,  and  if  any- 
one doubts  the  work  is  hard  let  him  try  it 
for  himself.  We  worked  three  days  and  got 
to  a  depth  of  ten  feet  with  no  favorable  re- 
sults. The  tundra  is  thawed  barely  through 
its  covering  of  moss,  seldom  more  than  six 
inches.  The  rest  of  the  way  the  frozen 
ground  was  as  hard  as  rock  and  had  to  be 
chipped  off  bit  by  bit.  The  hole  was  about 
four  by  five  feet,  just  room  enough  to  wield 
a  heavy  pick.  We  broke  the  points  off  the 
pick  every  day.  A  strata  of  pure  ice  a  foot 
thick  was  encountered,  but  most  of  the  way 
we  worked  through  a  sort  of  frozen  muck  or 
packed  mass  of  unrotted  vegetation  which, 
when  it  thaws,  looks  and  smells  like  barn- 
yard filth. 

After  the  first  day  the  walls  began  to  melt 
and  cave  in  little  by  little,  so  that  each  morn- 
ing and  noon  we  would  have  to  bale  out  a 
foot  or  more  of  mud  and  water.  It  was 
about  as  dirty  work  as  one  can  imagine. 
The  fresh  clods,  as  we  picked  them  out  of 
the  bottom,  were  so  cold  that  for  a  time 
frost  formed  on  the  outside  just  like  a  cold 
piece  of  iron  brought  into  a  warm  room  in 
winter.  Although  as  cold  as  a  refrigerator 
down  in  the  pit,  the  perspiration  poured  off 
from  us  from  the  stifling  air.  Only  one  of 
us  at  a  time  could  work  in  the  hole,  so  we 
had  half  hour  shifts,  Uncle  Jimmy  and  I. 
The  man  on  the  outside  had  to  haul  up  the 
bucketfuls  of  dirt  and  water,  but  he  other- 
wise rested.  After  our  long  yachting  trip 
this  work  was  especially  hard.  But  such 
labor  gives  one  a  tremendous  appetite.  Jesse 
Farrar  is  cook  now.  Shafer  has  deserted 
the  company.  He  has  obtained  a  position  in 
a  restaurant  uptown  at  $150  per  month  and 
expenses,  with  prospects  of  $200  next  month. 
C.  C.  Reynolds,  Dr.  Coffin,  Clyde,  Baldwin 
and  Colcough  have  left  on  the  steamer 
"  Albion "  for  home.  Yes,  for  home!  All 
have  made  satisfactory  arrangements  with 
the  company.  As  to  the  rest  of  us  who 
"  stay  by  the  ship,"  there  are  none  but  could 
better  his  condition  by  leaving  the  company. 
But  we  who  have  a  good  deal  of  money  in- 
vested, hate  to  leave  everything  when  affairs 
are  looking  better  than  ever  before. 

We  are  in  a  gold  country  here  and  none 
can  tell  what  may  turn  up.  I  never  saw  a 
single  color  in  the  Kowak  region,  but  here 
the  sand  is  sprinkled  with  them,  though  not 
in  paying  quantities  everywhere.  I  must 
admit  that  even  I,  who  do  not  know  what 
homesickness  is,  would  like  very  well  to  be 
at  home  for  a  while.  I  am  losing  time  now. 
No  matter  if  I  were  shoveling  gravel  and 


digging  holes,  that  isn't  improving  myself 
any,  is  it? 

I  am  still  intent  upon  Dutch  Harbor  as 
soon  as  the  company  leaves  Alaska.  I  do 
not  suppose  I  will  ever  return  to  Alaska 
again,  and  I  think  a  few  months  among  the 
Aleutians  would  be  time  well  put  in,  in 
the  natural  history  line. 

By  the  way,  "  Uncle  S.,"  the  Quaker  gold- 
hunter  whom  we  had  given  up  for  lost  last 
winter,  came  aboard  the  "  Penelope  "  when 
we  first  anchored  at  Anvil  City.  He  has 
bought  a  small  steam  launch  and  makes 
money  ferrying  people  and  their  goods  up 
and  down  the  coast  The  Snake  River  is  not 
navigable  except  after  heavy  rains.  I  have 
also  seen  the  "  Flying  Dutchman  "  here.  He 
is  gray.  He  had  black  hair  and  beard  last 
fall.  His  forced  journey  ings  over  the  frozen 
Arctic  have  left  a  witness  to  his  hard- 
ships. The  "  Bear  "  came  in  last  night  from 
Kotzebue  Sound,  bringing  eighty  victims  of 
scurvy.  The  sickness  up  there  has  been 
awful  this  spring  and  the  death  rate  as 
high  as  ten  per  cent. 

We  hear  of  a  great  many  disasters.  There 
are  but  few  who  would  spend  another  win- 
ter on  the  Kowak  for  a  mint  of  gold,  unless 
it  be  myself.  To  crown  it  all,  we  have  news 
of  a  strike  on  the  Kowak!  "  Nuggets  as  big 
as  hickory  nuts!"  This  story,  when  we  are 
scarcely  four  hundred  miles  away  from 
there!  Somebody  is  starting  another  boom. 
This  may  start  some  more  "fools  "  up  there. 
But  it  will  take  something  new  to  get  any  of 
us  back.  We  have  bit  at  "  the  hickory  nut " 
once,  and  I  do  not  think  we  shall  again.  We 
hear  that  the  transportation  companies  are 
booming  this  country.  It  is  overrun  now 
and  there  is  sure  to  be  crowding.  Wages  are 
five  to  eight  dollars  a  day  back  at  the  mines, 
but  only  a  limited  number  of  men  can  get 
employment  at  that.  Expenses  are  high, 
and  a  man  had  better  stick  to  $1.50  per  day 
back  in  civilization  than  to  come  here  and 
sleep  on  the  damp  ground  in  a  tent  without 
a  fire  and  live  on  salt-horse  and  beans. 

The  hot  weather  is  upon  us  at  last  and  the 
last  four  days  have  been  "  sweaters."  It  is 
like  an  oven  in  the  tent  where  I  am  writing. 
Dr.  Coffin  got  us  each  a  box  of  lemons  and 
oranges  on  the  "  Alaska,"  just  in,  before  he 
left.  Jesse  just  brought  in  a  big  stew  kettle 
full  of  ice-cold  lemonade.  Two  bowls  full 
just  serve  to  make  one  want  more.  It  tastes 
so  good.  We  have  had,  one  mess  of  fresh 
potatoes  and  onions.  We  ate  the  latter  raw 
with  vinegar.  It  does  a  fellow  good  to  be 
without  such  things  a  while,  if  not  too 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


89 


long.    He  knows  better  how  to  appreciate 
them. 

And  now  I  record  a  fact  that  ought  to 
make  every  face  blush  that  turns  an  upward 
glance  at  Old  Glory.  The  United  States  has 
passed  "  a  law,"  permitting  saloons  in  Cape 
Nome.  The  natives  get  all  they  want  and 
are  killing  each  other  when  drunk.  The  na- 
tive girl  who  mends  some  of  our  shoes,  came 
in  drunk,  and  when  sober  she  was  asked 
where  she  obtained  the  liquor.  She  gave  the 
name  of  the  man.  Our  foreman  told  him 
that  he  would  report  him  to  the  captain  of 
our  squad,  and  was  offered  $50  by  the  crim- 
inal to  "  keep  mum." 

Aug.  5.— It  is  nothing  now  but  "  work " 
from  7  a.  m.  to  6  p.  m.  After  ten  hours  of  it 
one  is  more  ready  to  rest  than  to  write.  I 
do  not  get  a  minute  to  so  much  as  look  at  a 
bird  except  Sunday,  which  we  have  voted  to 
observe.  And  then  there  is  plenty  to  fill  in 
every  minute  when  one  comes  along,  includ- 
ing mending  and  washing.  But  I  can 
scarcely  help  seeing  the  birds  that  fly  past 
along  the  beach  just  as  if  to  taunt  me. 
Bands  of  Pacific  kittiwakes  pass  up  and 
down  the  surf  on  the  lookout  for  herrings, 
and  an  occasional  glaucus,  or  rather  the 
Port  Barrow  gull,  comes  sailing  along.  A 
pair  of  Arctic  terns  feeding  their  full-grown 
young,  afford  almost  the  only  bird  notes  of 
any  kind.  The  young  have  a  pleading,  and 
yet  harshly  strong,  succession  of  calls,  and 
hover  along  the  beach  ever  ready  for  the 
fish  caught  in  the  surf  by  the  parent  birds. 
The  precision  with  which  the  terns  can  drop 
on  a  tiny  fish  or  crustacean  in  the  boiling 
surf  is  remarkable.  And  yet  they  seem  so 
light  on  the  wing  and  nse  from  the  water 
with  so  little  apparent  exertion.  Long- 
tailed  jagers  are  common,  coursing  back 
and  forth  over  the  tundra  or  poising  against 
the  wind  with  fluttering  wings  much  like  a 
sparrow-hawk.  Their  long,  pointed,  streamer- 
like,  central  tail  feathers  distinguish  them 
at  almost  any  distance  from  the  other 
jagers.  They  feed  on  meadow  mice  and 
caterpillars  mostly,  but  their  habit  of  forc- 
ing gulls  to  disgorge  is  of  frequent  notice. 
As  there  are  no  mud  flats  or  marshes  here 
the  waders  are  scarce.  I  saw  a  godwit, 
probably  the  Pacific,  flying  back  toward  the 
interior.  Several  golden  plover,  which  I 
have  no  doubt  are  rearing  their  young,  are 
always  on  the  back  part  of  our  claims. 
Their  melodious,  warbling  call  reminds  me 
strongly  of  the  robin.  These  plover  show 
decided  preference  for  the  dryest  tundra  and 


uplands,  and  at  Cape  Blossom  I  found  them 
on  the  hillsides  in  the  interior  of  the  penin- 
sula. One  day  last  week  while  I  was  at 
work  in  a  prospect  hole  back  of  the  bluff, 
three  turnstones  lit  in  the  mossy  hummocks 
within  a  few  yards  of  me.  They  were  very 
tame  and  remained  an  hour  or  more  near 
me,  feeding  on  insects  or  their  larvae.  I  have 
never  taken  this  species  (the  common  turn- 
stone),  although  I  saw  it  at  Cape  Prince  of 
Wales  and  Cape  Blossom,  and  tried  hard  to 
get  some  specimens.  I  took  several  of  the 
black  turnstones  in  Sitka  in  1896,  and  also  in 
San  Clemente  Island  last  year.  Black- 
throated  loons  are  numerous  and  are  con- 
stantly seen  and  heard  overhead  as  they  fly 
back  and  forth  from  the  lakes  on  the 
tundra  to  their  feeding  grounds  out  at  sea. 
This  is  the  only  loon  I  have  seen  here, 
though  I  saw  the  red-throated  at  Kotzebue. 
I  have  kept  special  watch  for  the  yellow- 
billed  loon  which  is  ascribed  to  this  region, 
but  have  never  identified  it.  The  Eskimos 
make  clothing  of  loon  skins,  and  I  have  par- 
ticularly examined  such  evidences,  but  have 
never  found  a  scrap  of  yellow-billed  loon 
skin.  This  species  cannot  therefore  be  very 
numerous.  Land  birds  are  very  scarce  here, 
probably  on  account  of  the  awful  barren- 
ness of  the  region.  I  flushed  one  snowy  owl 
back  of  camp  one  day,  and  the  boys  say  they 
saw  a  hawk  of  some  kind  yesterday,  I  think 
from  their  description  a  gyrfalcon.  I  saw 
two  juvenile  Lapland  longspurs  yesterday 
feeding  about  the  bluff,  and  also  heard  a  yel- 
low wagtail.  I  have  noted  a  pair  of  juvenile 
redpolls  several  times  along  the  bluff. 

This,  I  think,  comprises  our  avifauna  up  to 
date,  and  it  will  be  seen  that  a  collector 
would  have  rather  "  slim  picking."  They 
tell  me  that  back  in  the  hills  where  the  ra- 
vines are  lined  with  willow  scrubs,  birds 
are  more  numerous  and  that  large  flocks  of 
juvenile  ptarmigan  are  appearing.  I  would 
like  to  go  back  and  see  i-f  this  is  true,  but  it 
is  all  "  business  "  now.  The  financial  pros- 
pects of  our  party  are  brightening  every  day. 
Our  beach  claims  may  become  a  paying 
proposition  when  properly  developed.  Eight 
or  ten  of  us  are  working  on  one  of  them  in 
a  very  crude  fashion,  using  "  rockers,"  and 
are  taking  out  $50  to  $60  per  day.  With  im- 
proved machinery  this  would  be  a  rich  thing, 
but  of  course  considerable  capital  would  be 
required  to  start.  I  am  "  cleaner-up;"  tak- 
ing out  the  previous  day's  clean-up,  which 
consists  of  several  pans  of  mixed  black  sand 
and  gold  dust  (the  latter  in  smallest  propor- 
tion), and  panning  it  down  so  far  as  I  can 


90 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


without  losing  any  colors  or  fine  flakes  of 
the  yellow.  Then  I  mix  in  mercury  thor- 
oughly, which  takes  up  all  the  dust,  forming 
an  amalgum,  which  is  finally  separated  and 
retorted,  leaving  the  buttons  of  pure  gold. 
We  are  figuring  on  another  proposition  and 
may  not  continue  at  this  much  longer.  We 
have  prospected  these  claims  enough  to 
know  their  value,  and  this  is  enough  for  this 
year.  There  is  a  good  deal  of  trouble  about 
the  strip  of  beach  between  high  and  low 
tide,  some  claiming  it  to  be  public  reserve 
and  open  to  be  worked  by  anyone.  Several 
"  squatters  "  are  working  on  our  claims  who 
refuse  to  get  off,  but  the  judge  will  settle 
this  next  week. 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

GAPE  NOME,  Alaska,  Aug.  6,  1899.— It  is 
Sunday  evening  again  and  I  am  reclin- 
ing against  my  roll  of  blankets  in  the 
warm  tent.  Foote  is  playing  the  banjo, 
beautiful  music,  too!  I  never  appreciated 
music  until  this  trip.  Foote's  marches  and 
familiar  songs,  associated  as  they  are  with 
the  freedom  of  camp  life  and  that  feeling  of 
rest  after  a  day's  work,  have  impressed  their 
memory  as  the  sweetest  music  I  ever  heard. 
We  are  still  on  our  beach  claims;  that  is, 
part  of  us.  The  "  Penelope "  is  back  at 
anchor,  having  left  Jett  and  Wilson  on  the 
scent  of  something  under  guidance  of  an  In- 
dian. Cox  has  not  reported.  Our  property 
is  advancing  in  value  and  so  is  the  stock  of 
the  L.  B.  A.  M.  &  T.  Co.  The  same  stock 
which  I  was  ready  to  trade  a  few  weeks  ago 
for  some  cotton  batting,  arsenic  and  plaster- 
of-paris!  We  own  a  lot  in  Anvil  City  200  x 
300  feet.  The  beach  claims  are  proving  bet- 
ter. If  we  can  hold  clear  to  the  water  line 
we  are  safe.  The  past  week  we  have  taken 
out  $250  in  gold  dust.  Trouble  with  jumpers 
continues.  Over  six  hundred  men  are  work- 
ing with  rockers  on  the  beach  in  sight.  Some 
are  making  from  $60  to  $150  per  day.  One 
fellow  struck  a  pocket  and  took  out  $400  at 
one  clean-up.  Our  claims  are  not  as  good 
as  those  nearer  Snake  River.  Several  jump- 
ers are  at  work  on  them  now  and  we  cannot 
put  them  off  except  by  force,  and  that  means 
fight.  None  of  us  want  to  be  disfigured 
after  our  successful  encounter  with  the  frost 
last  winter.  We  appealed  to  the  lieutenant 
in  charge,  but  he  says  he  can  do  nothing 
until  the  arrival  of  the  district  judge  next 
week.  Several  of  our  boys  have  gone  up  to 
one  of  the  rich  gulches  to  consider  a  new 
proposition.  Maybe  we  will  get  a  good  lay. 


A  "  lay  "  is  a  lease  given  by  a  claim  owner 
to  a  party  to  work  a  claim  for  a  certain  per- 
centage of  the  outcome. 

Aug.  13.— Another  week  has  passed  away 
and  very  quickly,  too,  in  spite  of  the  hard 
work.  From  six  to  twelve  of  us  are  still 
working  on  one  of  the  beach  claims.  Up  to 
Friday  night  we  had  taken  out  $750  in  dust. 
If  the  whole  company  were  working  at  the 
same  rate  this  would  be  good  wages,  but 
there  are  twenty  to  share  with.  The  "  Pen- 
elope "  has  gone  down  the  coast  again  to 
look  after  the  prospectors  and  may  bring 
good  news.  Jesse  Farrar,  the  cook,  went  to 
town  last  night,  and  I  have  been  cooking  to- 
day. We  were  troubled  quite  a  little  at  first 
by  our  numerous  Kotzebue  friends  dropping 
in  for  meals  on  their  way  up  and  down  the 
beach.  So  we  put  up  a  sign,  "  Meals,  $1," 
more  to  rid  ourselves  of  the  extra  care  than 
to  go  into  the  restaurant  business.  Really 
it  became  unbearable. 

%  The  town  is  booming.  The  beach  claim 
trouble  is  not  settled  yet,  and  everyone  is 
working  where  he  pleases.  Claim  owners  up 
in  the  gulches  are  looking  for  men  at  $10  per 
day  and  board,  and  cannot  get  them.  A 
$310  nugget  was  taken  from  a  sluice  box 
the  other  day,  and  one  man  cleared  $20,000 
for  four  days'  work.  Our  boys  have  been  up 
to  see,  and  I  ought  to  go.  A  fellow  hasn't  a 
chance  every  day  in  his  life  to  see  such  a 
lot  of  gold  in  the  rough,  at  its  birth  as  it 
were,  before  it  is  washed  or  dressed  or  al- 
loyed. Most  of  the  lucky  ones  are  Swedes 
or  Laplanders,  they  being  on  the  ground  at 
the  beginning  of  the  rush  last  spring. 

Gold  can  only  bring  $15  per  ounce  at  the 
highest,  and  only  $14  at  some  stores.  In 
other  words,  coin  is  at  a  big  premium.  The 
beach  gold  runs  very  high,  being  much  purer 
than  that  from  the  hills.  Some  was  sent  to 
St.  Michaels  and  assayed  $18.40  per  ounce. 
If  one  had  the  cash  he  could  buy  up  the 
raw  gold  and  sell  it.  That  is  where  the  com- 
panies make  the  bulk 'of  their  money.  It 
is  a  great  temptation  for  some  of  our 
party  to  desert  and  start  into  private  enter- 
prises. But  I,  and  most  of  the  boys,  will 
stay  together  and  I  believe  will  come  out 
better  in  the  long  run. 

They  say  Dawson  is  played  out  and  that 
this  is  the  next  place  for  a  boom.  But  I 
wouldn't  advise  anyone  to  come  here  if  they 
have  any  way  of  making  a  living  at  home. 
Ten  dollars  a  day  sounds  big,  but  when  one 
pays  $90  each  way  for  transportation  and 
ten  prices  for  things  here,  there  isn't  much 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


91 


left  from  the  short  period  of  three  months' 
work,  and  one  is  not  sure  of  that. 

We  have  a  short  fish  net  set  out  beyond 
the  surf.  This  morning  I  found  four  salmon 
in  it,  the  first  we  have  had  since  leaving 
Kotzebue.  Only  four  of  us  are  here  to-day, 
but  I  had  three  "  boarders."  Three  dollars 
in  "  dust  "  was  good. 

I  have  forgotten  to  describe  what  "rock- 
ing "  is.  A  rocker  runs  just  like  a  baby's 
cradle,  from  side  to  side.  At  the  top  is  a 
hopper  with  holes  in  the  bottom  to  keep  out 
the  coarse  stuff.  The  sand  falls  through  the 
hopper-holes  and  washes  over  two  "  aprons  " 
slanting  back  and  forth  to  the  bottom, 
where  it  runs  out  through  a  sluice-box.  The 
aprons,  and  sometimes  the  sluice-box,  have 
"riffles,"  or  strips  of  cloth  fastened  in 
crosswise,  to  catch 
the  gold.  The  • 
aprons  and  the 
whole  bottom  of  the 
box  and  riffles  are 
of  blanket,  so  that 
the  finer  dust 
catches  in  the  nap 
or  wool.  A  man 
stands  dipping 
water  into  the  hop- 
per with  one  hand 
and  rocking  with 
the  other,  while  the 
other  man  puts 

in  a  shovelful  of  the  pay  dirt  every  now 
and  then,  and  keeps  the  water  tub  full 
and  the  tailings  cleaned  away.  Two  men 
run  a  rocker,  though  when  the  "  Penelope  " 
crew  is  ashore  there  are  three  men  to  each 
of  our  four  rockers.  We  have  to  carry  all 
our  water  from  the  surf.  Some  of  the  rockers 
have  copper  plates  amalgamated  with  mer- 
cury on  the  upper  sides.  These  are  better, 
as  the  finer  particles  are  caught  and  amalga- 
mated. To  "  clean  up  "  a  rocker,  the  aprons 
and  blankets  are  takfen  out  and  washed  in 
a  tub  and  the  resulting  debris  panned  out. 
I  am  amalgamator,  and  have  nothing  to  do 
with  the  rockers.  I  pan  out  the  previous 
day's  clean-up  and  amalgamate  the  dust, 
squeeze  "  dry "  the  amalgam  and  weigh  it. 
We  have  no  retort  as  yet  and  I  have  on 
hand  nearly  ten  pounds  of  dry  amalgam.  I 
have  experimented  with  it  and  find  that  the 
amalgam  is  one-half  gold  by  weight.  Oh, 
the  boys  have  a  little  joke  on  me.  It  was 
the  result  of  my  first  experiment  and  I  shall 
never  hear  the  last  of  it.  There  must  have, 
been  something  else  in  the  spoon  1  was  us-' 
ing,  nickel  or  silver,  for  the  gold  melted 


right  into  the  spoon.  I  poured  the  stuff  out 
on  to  a  shovel-blade  to  save  what  was  left. 
What  did  it  do  but  melt  right  into  and  all 
over  the  shovel!  The  result  of  this  is  that 
the  L.  B.  A.  M.  &  T.  Co.  has  a  gold-plated 
shovel.  We  are  a  wealthy  company  and  can 
afford  it. 

Later.  Anvil  City,  Cape  Nome.— I  came  to 
town  after  supper  and  am  writing  in  our 
"  city  cabin,"  which  is  just  back  of  the  A.  C. 
Company's  store.  We  own  a  very  fine  resi' 
dence  in  the  city  12  x  16  feet,  on  a  150  x  300 
foot  lot.  It  is  a  good  eight  miles  from  our 
beach  claims  here,  and  as  I  walked  it  I 
thought  it  twenty.  I  wore  heavy  shoes,  and 
the  best  walking  I  could  select  was  on  the 
wet  sand  along  the  surf.  For  the  entire 


Tenting  on  Cape  Nome. 

eight  miles  there  is  scarcely  one  hundred 
feet  without  one  or  more  tents  on  it.  The 
beach  is  riddled  with  ditches  and  holes,  and 
hundreds  of  rockers  of  all  descriptions 
gyrate  in  various  rhythm.  I  spoke  to  many 
Kotzebue  people  whom  we  knew  last  winter, 
and  all  are  doing  well.  The  beach  is  still 
being  worked  by  everyone,  irrespective  of 
original  locators,  a  dozen  or  more  on  our 
own  claims.  The  officer  arrested  several, 
but  discharged  them  again.  The  townspeo- 
ple, saloonkeepers  and  transportation  com- 
panies are  against  claim  owners,  as  it  is  to 
their  own  interest  to  keep  the  mob  taking 
out  money.  And  they're  doing  it,  too. 
Anvil  City  is  booming.  Dozens  of  frame 
buildings  are  being  erected.  Three  big  two- 
story  sheet-iron  buildings  are  going  up, 
which  comprise  the  government  barracks. 
Several  steamers  have  gotten  over  the  bar 
and  are  in  the  mouth  of  Snake  River.  About 
two  dozen  saloons  are  raking  in  fhe  money. 
This  is  a  speedy  place.  I  wish  I  had  my 
time  for  the  next  two  months  here.  Ptar- 
migan are  $1  each  for  eating.  Wages  are 
$1  per  hour. 


92 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


Cape  Nome,  Aug.  22. — I  am  quite  sure  that 
I  do  not  aspire  to  the  realm  of  cookery,  but 
yet,  for  all  that,  I  am  in  the  kitchen  again, 
"  monarch  of  all  I  survey."  I  do  not  blame 
the  cook  for  stubbornly  declaring  his  inten- 
tion to  resign  and  refusing  to  leave  his 
bed.  No  one  heeded  his  warning  given  the 
day  before.  Pandemonium  ensued.  A  dish- 
pan  of  mush  finally  appeared  at  the  hands 
of  Uncle  Jimmy.  No  one  consented  to  fill 
the  vacancy  at  any  wages.  Three  "  board- 


Rocking  Out  Gold  at  Cape  Nome 

ers  "  came  in  and  were  turned  away.  The 
dissolution  of  the  company  was  imminent, 
all  because  there  was  no  one  in  the  crowd 
to  perform  a  duty  which  is  considered  by 
all  to  be  the  most  disagreeable  of  any  on  the 
list.  I  told  them  so,  and  several  other  em- 
phatic truths.  "Practice  what  you  preach!" 
was  hurled  at  me.  Then  I  rose  up  like  a 
martyr  and  declared  that  I  would  "  risk 
death  "  in  the  interests  of  the  L.  B.  A.  M  & 
T.  Co.,  and  here  I  am  in  imminent  peril  of 
being  wiped  off  the  face  of  the  earth  by 
some  "  beach  comber  "  whom  I  charge  fifty 
cents  for  a  loaf  of  bread.  I  sold  three  loaves 
at  that  rate  yesterday.  Also  served  fifteen 
meals  to  outsiders  at  the  rate  of  $1  per  meal. 
One  man  came  in  for  supper  last  night  who 
planked  down  a  bag  of  dust  worth  fully 


$800  for  me  to  weigh  the  dollar  from.  I 
poured  out  a  little  too  much  and  he  grabbed 
the  bag  and  went  out,  saying,  "  Keep  the 
change!"  Most  of  the  money  taken  in  is 
dust.  Cash  is  scarcer  than  ever.  Copper 
plates  are  not  obtainable,  and  silver  dollars 
and  halves  are  at  a  premium  for  covering 
the  bottoms  of  rockers.  The  coins  are  amal- 
gamated with  mercury  to  catch  the  fine  gold 
dust.  I  saw  fifty  arranged  in  rows  in  one 
rocker.  Our  claims  are  now  covered  with 
beach  jumpers  and  we 
cannot  get  them  off. 
Mob  law  rules.  There 
are  one  hundred  beach 
combers  to  one  claim 
owner,  and  the  author- 
ities will  not  or  cannot 
do  anything.  The  lieu- 
tenant in  charge  gave 
us  some  notices  to  "  va- 
cate," but  the  people 
pay  no  attention.  It 
fell  to  me  to  go  up  to 
one  of  our  claims,  and 
I  showed  the  notice  to 
each  of  the  workers 
along  the  beach.  Some 
laughed  at  me.  Some 
sneered.  One  "  tough  " 
consigned  me  and  the 
notice  to  a  warmer 
place  than  Cape  Nome 
in  August.  He  con- 
tinued to  swear  at  me, 
and  when  I  respectfully 
asked  him  to  "  be  rea- 
sonable and  give  me  a 
hearing,"  he  told  me  to 
get  to  that  same  place  I 
have  mentioned  "  and 
quick,  too."  This  at  my  own  claim!  I  never 
knew  I  had  a  temper  before,  but  for  a  minute 
then  I  do  not  think  I  would  have  been  re- 
sponsible. I  can  easily  see  how  murders  are 
committed  in  the  rage  of  anger,  and  if  all 
judges  and  juries  could  put  themselves  in 
the  place  of  the  tempted,  perhaps  capital 
punishment,  at  least  for  such  crimes,  would 
be  annulled.  The  man  who  threatened  me 
was  bigger  than  I,  and  I  went  on.  And  he 
is  still  working  there,  taking  out  $100  per 
day,  so  I  am  told.  He  is  in  a  "  pocket."  Our 
pocket.  We  have  discussed  the  advisability 
of  using  force,  but  have  abandoned  it. 
Fancher  says  we  "  might  get  disfigured," 
for  there  are  people  here  just  awkward 
enough  to  hit  a  fellow  in  the  face. 
We  are  hemmed  in  on  all  sides  and  soon 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


93 


our  beach  claims  will  be  worthless.  Sun- 
day I  retorted  all  the  amalgam  we  had  on 
hand,  and  eighty-five  ounces  of  pure  gold 
was  the  result.  Seven  pounds  of  the  pretty 
yellow  stuff!  I  broke  the  big  chunks  as  they 
came  from  the  retort  into  small  pieces  with 
a  cold  chisel.  It  was  fascinating  work  to 
weigh  out  the  rare  metal  and  lift  the  same 
when  it  was  put  into  the  chamois-skin  sack. 
I  have  turned  it  over  to  Treasurer  Rivers,  so 
it  is  off  my  hands.  But  what  is  fifteen  hun- 
dred dollars  divided  among  twenty  men?  It 
would  certainly  be  better  to  divide  up  the 
company  right  now,  for  the  individuals  here, 
but  we  cannot  lawfully 
do  it.  Complete  deser- 
tion is  the  only  alterna- 
tive to  staying  with  it. 

Anvil  City,  Aug.  24.— 

We  have  left  the  beach 

claims  and  are  on  our 

way    to    Nome    River, 

We  have  leased  a  fifty 

per  cent,  lay  on  Buster 

Creek,  and  are  going  to 

see  what  is  in  it.    It  is 

our  last  chance  for  this 

year.    It  may  turn  out 

poor,  but  we  have  very 

good  reports  from  that 

section.     We     hope     to 

feel    assured    of    some- 
thing    good     to     come 

back    to    next    spring. 

Ice  last  night,  and  prob- 
ably   an    early    winter. 

The   schooner   is   going 

up  to  Safety  Harbor  in 

Port     Clarence    to     re- 
main until  October  1st, 

which  is  about  as  late 

as  we  dare  stay  here.    I  must  go  ashore  now 

for  a  boat-load  of  lumber  for  sluice-boxes. 

Later.— The  rats  got  into  a  box  of  my 
geese  and  entirely  ruined  them.  I  do  not 
know  how  much  else  is  destroyed.  I  have 
not  been  so  absolutely  down-hearted  for 
many  moons.  All  on  account  of  those  mis- 
erable rats.  I  came  near  taking  all  my  col- 
lection ashore  and  quitting  the  company. 
But  then  I  suppose  "gold  is  to  be  desired 
above  all  things,"  at  least  this  is  what  I  am 
told  by  wiser  heads  than  mine,  judging  by 
their  whiteness  and  baldness.  There  is  a 
prospect  of  getting  some  new  potatoes 
ashore  to-night,  and  these  will  be  an  all- 
sufficient  antidote  to  low  spirits.  Somehow 
potatoes,  and  even  onions,  go  straight  to  the 


seat  of  low  spirits  when  a  fellow  has  been 
without  them  a  year  or  two.  Strange  to  me 
that  a  man  ever  commits  suicide  in  the 
midst  of  local  markets  where  fresh  vege- 
tables can  be  obtained.  Ah,  we  shall  have 
a  great  supper  to-night!  One  menu  three 
times  a  day  —  beans,  dessicated  vegetables, 
rice,  dried  fruit  and  bacon  — grows  weari- 
some unless  the  appetite  is  awfully  sharp. 

Buster  Creek,  Sept.  3.— Here  we  are  twelve 
miles  up  among  the  mountains  back  of  Cape 
Nome*  It  took  two  days  towing  up  Nome 
River,  which  is  really  nothing  more  than  a 


Placer  Mining,  Cape  Nome. 


creek.  There  were  bars  to  drag  the  boat  over 
every  hundred  yards.  That  brought  us  to 
the  mouth  of  Buster  Creek,  three  miles  from 
here,  and  from  there  we  had  the  sweet  job 
of  packing  up  all  our  supplies  and  lumber 
on  our  backs.  Rain  most  of  the  time  and 
nothing  but  green  willow  brush  to  burn. 
It  was  very  disagreeable,  hard  work,  but 
here  we  are  now,  well  settled,  with  an  oil 
stove  to  depend  on  when  the  willow  wood 
fails.  We  have  a  fairly  good  looking  claim 
here,  No.  4.  Have  it  opened  up  and  the  first 
gravel  through  yesterday.  The  riffles  show 
coarse  gold,  though  in  no  fabulous  amount. 
We  cannot  get  much  out  before  freeze-up 
this  year,  but  ought  to  do  fairly  well  next 
summer  from  present  prospects.  Some  ice 


94 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


and  considerable  frost  already.  We  will 
probably  return  to  the  coast  the  last  of  Sep- 
tember, The  "  Penelope  "  rode  out  the  late 
storm  safely  when  so  many  other  vessels 
were  lost.  My  latest  news  is  that  the  rats 
have  taken  my  goose  box  for  a  nesting  den. 
One  of  the  boys  will  watch  from  this  on. 
I  am  cooking  and  it  keeps  me  jumping  side- 
ways to  feed  the  fourteen  hungry  gravel- 
heavers.  I  have  to  be  up  at  five  in  the 
morning  and  am  seldom  through  untilnine 
at  night.  Have  to  bake  every  day,  and  have 
nothing  larger  than  a  single  camp  stove 
oven  to  do  it  in.  Everyone  is  working  for 
all  there  is  in  him.  We  hope  to  strike  a  pay 
streak,  as  they  have  on,  the  claim  above  us, 
rich  enough  to  take  out  $800  per  day.  I 
have  scarcely  time  to  breathe  outside  of  the 
cook  tent  these  days.  But  I  frequently  hear 
the  notes  of  familiar  birds — golden-crowned 
sparrows,  gray-cheeked  thrushes  and  ptar- 
migan. I  shot  nine  ptarmigan  the  other 
evening  close  by.  We  are  feasting  on  fresh 
venison.  Yesterday  morning  a  reindeer  ap- 
peared on  the  hillside  above  the  tents. 
Without  malice  aforethought  one  of  the  boys 
aimed  and  it  fell  —to  our  lot.  It  is  now 
hinted  that  the  wild  creature  was  a  tame 
reindeer,  and  that  the  Laps  from  over  on 
Anvil  Creek  who  have  the  animals  in  charge, 
will  most  likely  come  to  hunt  it  up.  If  they 
get  a  peep  into  our  provision  tent  we  may 
have  to  pay  $100,  otherwise  it  will  be  fin- 
ished by  us  with  a  relish  such  as  few  can 
appreciate.  These  Laplanders  own  very  rich 
claims  and,  though  they  are  really  a  lower 
class  of  people  than  the  Indians,  the  latter 
cannot  become  citizens. 

Last  wreek,  while  we  were  coming  up 
along  Nome  River,  birds  were  quite  numer- 
ous, especially  the  smaller  species  in  the 
willow  thickets.  I  saw  or  heard  the  yellow, 
black-poll  and  Wilson's  warblers;  tree,  fox, 
golden-crowned  and  intermediate  sparrows, 
gray-cheeked  thrush,  redpoll,  snowy  owl, 
flocks  of  golden  plover  and  pectoral  sand- 
pipers, one  young  Sabine's  gull  on  a  sand- 
bar; lots  of  large  gulls,  either  glaucus  or 
glaucus-winged,  and  perhaps  both;  loons, 
black  and  red-throated;  little  brown  crane, 
pin-tails,  and  other  ducks  not  identified.  The 
last  two  or  three  days  small  birds  have  been 
very  scarce.  On  August  27  and  28  the  fall 
migrations  were  in  progress.  Most  of  the 
birds  were  heard  singing,  especially  the 
warblers,  as  in  spring.  The  ptarmigan  are 
very  nicely  plumaged  now  in  parti-colored 
costume.  I  wish  I  could  save  some,  but  the 
L.  Bo  A>'M.  &  T.  Co.  is  mining  now.  I  can 


hardly  decide  in  my  own  mind  to  stay  an- 
other winter  here.  I  will  let  circumstances 
decide.  There  are  hundreds  of  Dawson  peo- 
ple here  who  say  this  will  be  a  greater  gold 
country  than  the  Klondike.  Some  of  the 
creeks  are  turning  out  immensely  rich. 
One  Swede  came  down  from  his  claim  the 
other  day  with  $88,000.  He  got  rid  of  $30,- 
000  of  it  in  a  saloon  Almost  immediately.  It 
will  be  seen  that  the  saloon  people  are  tak- 
ing in  most  of  the  gold.  However,  I  think 
we  are  on  the  right  track,  though  it  may 
take  two  more  years  to  bring  us  material 
returns.  In  a  few  days  now  it  will  be: 

"  Penelope  !   Penelope !   zip  !  boom  !  bah  ! 
Going  home  from  Kotzebue !   rah !  rah !   rah  !" 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

BUSTER  CREEK,  Cape  Nome,  Sept.  16, 
1899.— A  week  ago  Casey  went  to  Anvil 
City,  across  country  twelve  miles,  and 
brought  a  batch  of  mail,  containing  our  first 
letters  from  home  since  our  arrival  here  in 
answer  to  our  own.  I  received  six,  which  I 
have  committed  to  memory,  sitting  alone  in 
the  cook  tent.  If  people  at  home,  the  wide 
world  over,  would  write  faithfully  to  absent 
ones,  there  would  be  joy  in  many  a  wan- 
derer's heart. 

Here  we  are,  working  like  beavers,  thir- 
teen of  us,  including  me,  the  cook.  It's  the 
last  struggle  of  a  dying  company.  But  it 
isn't  dead  yet.  In  fact  there  are  many  good 
signs  of  reviving,  possibly  to  a  more  pros- 
perous condition.  We  have  done  little  so  far 
on  Buster  Creek  but  hunt  for  pay  dirt.  Just 
now  we  are  making  wages.  Took  out  $400 
last  week,  including  some  very  pretty  nug- 
gets. The  claims  are  too  spotted;  that  is, 
the  gold  runs  in  narrow  streaks,  and  neces- 
sitates moving  quantities  of  barren  dirt  to 
get  at  it.  Our  largest  nugget  so  far  is  $4.13, 
with  a  good  many  $1  ones.  Over  on  Anvil 
Creek  they  took  out  a  twenty-seven  ounce 
one  last  week.  That  is  a  better  size.  While 
we  have  done  little  but  "  prospect "  on  the 
claims  here,  we  have  gained  a  good  idea  of 
their  value,  and  expect  to  work  them  next 
year.  A  cold  snap  struck  us  three  days  ago 
and  threatens  to  put  a  stop  to  our  mining  for 
this  season.  The  creek  is  bordered  with  ice, 
and  icicles  adorn  the  edges  of  the  sluice- 
boxes.  We  shall  remain  as  long  as  we  can 
possibly  work.  It  is  snowing  quite  heavily 
to-day.  I  saw  the  last  Siberian  yellow  wag- 
tail on  the  8th,  also  a  gray-cheeked  thrush. 
I  saw  a  gyrfalcon  and  snowy  owl  flying 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


95 


along  the  canon  yesterday.  Scattering 
flocks  of  golden  plover  have  been  quite  com- 
mon the  past  few  days  on  the  hillsides  feed- 
ing on  blueberries.  I  shot  one  near  the  tent 
this  morning,  although  the  ground  was 
whit£  with  snow.  I  can  hear  their  clear 
notes  every  few  minutes  while  I  write. 
They  are  flying  past  along  the  creek  or  up 
the  hills.  I  wish  I  could  save  some  skins. 
But  wishes  do  not  count  with  a  gold-hunter 
when  gold  is  in  sight.  Yesterday  immense 
flocks  of  little  brown  cranes  passed  south 
overhead. 

I  am  pretty  sure  this  is  the  same  species 
we  see  and  hear  so  much  of  during  the  mi- 
grations in  southern  California,  and  not  so 
often  the  sand-hill  crane. 

This  "  cooking  job,"  which  has  been  thrust 
upon  me  by  circumstances  entirely  outside 
my  control,  is  something  terrible.  I  will 
never,  never  get  into  another  scrape  like  it. 
And  yet  "  I  am  in  the  hands  of  my  friends." 
No  President  of  these  United  States  ever 
accepted  his  office  "  by  the  will  of  the  peo- 
ple "  more  surely  than  I  now  occupy  my 
office  as  cook  for  the  L.  B.  A.  M.  &  T.  Co. 
But  for  all  that,  I  am  elected  by  a  sweeping 
vote.  I  repeat  my  previous  oft-made  declar- 
ation that  I  will  never  be  caught  running 
for  this  office  again.  In  fact  I  never  did 
run  for  it.  It  ran  for  me.  An  unquestion- 
able illustration  of  the  office  seeking  the 
man  and  not  the  man  the  office.  I  get  up  at 
five  in  the  morning;  nearly  dark  now  at  that 
early  hour.  How  cold  it  is!  And  I  never 
was  eager  to  get  up,  under  any  circum- 
stances. For  a  week  nearly  every  night  ice 
forms  in  the  tent.  I  have  an  oil  stove,  with- 
out which  I  should  never  be  able  to  prepare 
breakfast.  Green  willow -brush  is  hard  to 
burn  in  the  little  camp  stove.  I  have  break- 
fast ready  at  6:30,  dinner  at  12,  and  supper 
at  6.  It  keeps  me  "  hustling  "  to  be  prompt. 
The  office  is  no  "  snap."  I  am  given  a  man 
to  chop  wood  when  necessary,  otherwise  I 
must  do  everything  alone.  And  the  dish- 
washing three  times  a  day!  Let  who  will 
envy  me.  Up  to  the  beginning  of  the  cold 
snap  I  made  light  bread,  six  loaves  per  day. 
But  since  it  has  been  freezing  in  the  tent  at 
night  the  sponge  will  not  rise.  And  there's 
no  way  to  keep  it  warm.  Fuel  too  dear  and 
scarce.  The  camp  stove  oven  is  about  ten 
inches  square,  with  bake  pans  to  fit,  two 
loaves  to  a  pan,  one  pan  at  a  time.  Light 
bread  went  a  good  deal  further  than  baking- 
powder  biscuit.  It  takes  nine  slabs  of  the 
latter  a  day  to  satisfy  us  now.  We  are  re- 
duced to  the  bare  necessities,  no  butter  nor 


canned  milk.  For  breakfast  I  give  them 
corn-meal  mush,  bacon,  bread,  beans  and 
coffee.  For  dinner  bacon,  beans,  bread,  pea 
soup,  apple  sauce  and  coffee.  For  supper 
either  bacon  gravy,  made  of  flour  and  water, 
or  stew,  if  we  have  ptarmigan  or  meat, 
beans,  rice,  apple  sauce,  bread,  hard-tack 
and  tea.  Our  reindeer  was  fine,  but  lasted 
only  a  few  days.  One  unaccustomed  to  this 
fare  of  ours  may  think  we  are  in  luck  for 
miners,  and  so  we  are,  but  one  gets  tired  of 
the  same  menu  for  so  long.  And  then  the 
staleness  of  it,  after  being  shipped  and 
towed  and  packed  and  unpacked,  and 
swapped,  and  crushed,  and  dampened,  for 
nearly  two  years!  Little  freshness  in  it. 

The  boys  are  having  no  easy  job  at  shov- 
eling. Their  feet  are  swollen,  and  sore  from 
standing  in  rubber  boots  in  ice  water,  and 
their  hands  are  cracked  and  chapped.  These 
every-day  monotonies  are  the  real  hardships 
of  a  miner's  life.  He  can  tramp  across  the 
country  for  a  few  weeks  and  know  that  the 
end  of  his  journey  is  at  hand,  and  besides 
be  getting  some  satisfaction  from  the 
thought  of  "  glory  "  when  he  shall  relate  his 
perils  to  gaping  friends  at  home.  But  this 
"  peg-away  "  daily  toil,  in  heat  and  cold  and 
sleet  and  rain,  after  what  may  come  to  light 
in  the  next  shovelful,  and  possibly  never 
show  up  at  all— this  is  hardship.  But  through 
it  all  the  boys  who  have  stuck  to  their  work 
are  in  good  spirits,  and  this  in  face  of  the 
fact  that  the  "  clean-ups "  do  not  always 
show  up  wages  even. 

I  have  plenty  of  time  to  think  nowadays 
all  by  myself,  for  I  do  not  necessarily  keep 
all  my  thoughts  upon  the  grub.  I  do  a 
good  deal  of  my  wyork  from  sheer  habit  now, 
or  mechanically.  The  boys  are  working  on 
Claim  No.  1,  and  these  tents  are  on  No.  4, 
so  I  am  quite  alone  except  at  meal  time.  A 
regulation  claim  is  one-fourth  of  a  mile  long 
lengthwise  of  a  creek,  and  one-eighth  wide. 

The  "  Penelope "  is  at  Port  Clarence, 
where  Fancher  and  Jett  went  prospecting. 
The  boat  will  be  at  Anvil  City  about  Octo- 
ber 1st,  according  to  programme,  and  we 
will  sail  for  home  as  soon  after  that  date  as 
we  can  get  away.  Yes,  home!  I  am  heartily 
tired  of  this  kind  of  living.  I  shall  be  will- 
ing to  take  a  six  months'  rest  before  taking 
another  trip,  I  am  sure.  I  long  to  get  back 
to  my  father's  house  and  up  in  those  cool, 
high  chambers  of  mine,  where  I  may  once 
more  feel  "like  a  Christian  and  a  gentle- 
man." 

The  season  is  earlier  than  usual,  and  the 
weather  much  more  disagreeable  than  at  the 


96 


GOLD    HUNTING    IN  ALASKA. 


same  date  last  year  on  the  Kowak.  Every 
moment  or  two  while  I  write  I  have  to  stop 
and  stir  the  beans  or  apple  sauce,  or  look  at 
a  batch  of  bread.  The  beans  are  boiling 
with  rather  a  melodious  gurgle,  while  the 
sizzling  rice  and  the  patter  of  sleet  on  the 
canvas  overhead  furnish  a  rather  pleasing 
accompaniment.  But  it  makes  a  person  feel 
kind  of  lonesome-like.  There!  the  old  stove 
is  smoking  again!  Whenever  the  wind  shifts 
around  the  hill  the  draft  is  damaged,  and  the 
stinging,  irritating  green  willow  smoke  fills 
the  tent.  My  eyes  smart  and  are  very  pain- 
ful from  this  cause.'  I  long  for  the  voyage 
home  across  the  water  for  the  sake  of  my 
eyes.  And  now  the  snow  is  coming  and  it 
will  but  increase  the  mischief.  I  should  hate 
to  lose  my  good  eyesight. 

A  few  cases  of  typhoid  fever  are  reported, 
but  none  on  this  creek.  We  are  all  in  good 
health.  No  one  would  doubt  this  last  at 
meal  time.  The  boys  eat  an  immense 
amount  of  our  monotonous  grub  and  say 
their  "  grace  "  as  thankfully  as  if  it  were  a 
banquet.  Little  Brownie,  the  boy  who  was 
going  to  work  eighteen  hours  a  day  if  only 
he  could  "  find  the  nuggets,"  comes  dragging 
himself  home  at  night  completely  tired  out, 
sore  feet  and  blistered  hands.  The  work  is 
pretty  hard  on  the  older  men,  Shaul,  Wilson 
and  Uncle  Jimmy.  But  we  have  no  hard- 
ships from  other  causes  than  voluntary  hard 
work.  Our  foreman,  Harry  Reynolds,  knows 
his  business  well,  and  we  all  like  him. 

Anvil  City,  Sept.  20. — We  were  frozen  out 
on  Buster  Creek,  and  here  we  are  in  town 
again.  Winter  is  upon  us,  the  landscape  is 
white  and  the  glare  is  very  painful.  The 
ground  is  frozen  hard,  which  makes  walk- 
ing much  easier  than  through  a  foot  of  mud 
and  ooze.  We  are  living  in  our  cabin  on 
our  city  lot  just  back  of  the  A.  C.  Company's 
big  warehouse.  WTe  made  the  entire  trip 
from  No.  4  on  Buster  Creek  in  one  day,  and 
were  just  in  time,  for  next  morning  a  snow- 
storm began,  lasting  until  yesterday.  We 
made  the  trip  down  Nome  River  in  five 
hours  in  our  boats,  and  then  around  to  Anvil 
City  outside  the  surf,  which  luckily  was  not 
heavy.  And  how  cold  it  was!  I  was  one  of 
three  to  bring  a  boat  around,  and  by  the 
time  we  got  here  I  was  so  stiff  I  could 
scarcely  bend  my  limbs.  Rubber  boots  and 
damp  clothing  inside.  It  would  have  been 
much  worse  had  wTe  waited  a  day  longer. 
However,  we  are  all  well  in  spite  of  hard- 


ship, and  are  patiently  (?)  waiting  for  the 
"  Penelope."  We  heard  a  rumor  that  a  white 
schooner  was  wrecked  a  short  time  ago  on 
the  rocks  near  Port  Clarence.  It  was 
thought  to  be  the  "  Penelope."  Alas,  my 
dear  collection!  But  if  it  were  the  ".Pen- 
elope "  we  would  have  been  informed  by 
this  time.  Then  we  have  heard  that  the 
"  Penelope "  has  been  chartered  to  go  back 
up  to  Kotzebue  again  for  freight,  and  to  go 
over  to  Siberia  to  trade  for  dog-feed.  But 
a  person  must  make  a  rule  to  believe  noth- 
ing he  hears  in  this  country  or  he  would  be 
worrying  all  the  time. 

This,  for  a  boom  town,  beats  anything  we 
ever  saw  in  the  States.  Thousands  of  people 
are  now  pouring  in  from  Dawson  to  stay 
through  the  winter,  and  they  say  that  this 
is  a  bigger  place  than  ever  Uawson  was. 
Steamer  loads  of  people  and  freight  are  com- 
ing in  every  day.  The  town  is  full  of  money. 
The  town  is  incorporated,  with  mayor, 
councilmen  and  police  force.  Franchises 
have  been  let  for  electric  lighting,  sew- 
erage, water  works,  and  all  modern  im- 
provements. Hundreds  of  houses  are  build- 
ing, many  large  ones.  Lumber  is  $150  per 
thousand. 

I  have  a  job  for  to-morrow  in  the  mayor's 
office  aligning  a  caligraph.  Wages  are  $1 
per  hour.  I  could  have  all  I  could  do  for  the 
winter,  type-writing  and  doing  mechanical 
drawing  in  the  Nome  City  Attorney's  office. 
But  I  wouldn't  stay  here  for  $300  per  month. 
No,  nor  for  anything.  I  hate  the  place. 
There's  the  toughest  crowd  of  people,  sport- 
ing Dawsonites,  everyone  ready  to  "  do " 
everybody  else.  It  is  the  liveliest,  speediest, 
swiftest  mining  camp  ever  seen  in  Alaska. 
And  what  will  it  be  next  year?  All  sorts  of 
sharks  are  making  fortunes. 

Sept.  27,  1899.— Heigh-o!  The  "  Penelope  " 
has  just  dropped  anchor  off  Anvil  City  and 
we  are  in  high  glee.  Higher  glee  than  we 
ever  experienced  on  the  Kowak,  for  we  are 
going  home!  Our  hunt  for  gold  is  over.  We 
shall  take  some  passengers  aboard  for  San 
Pedro.  I  shall  go  on  ship  at  once  and  see 
how  it  fares  with  my  precious  birds.  They 
are  my  gold.  We  shall  start  at  high  noon 
October  2d,  and  expect  to  make  the  trip  in  a 
month  or  six  weeks.  Depends  upon  the 
wind.  Now  for  our  good  ship's  yell: 

"  Penelope  !  Penelope  !  zip  !  boom  !  bah  ! 
Going  home  from  Kotzebue!  rah!  rah!  rah!" 


THE     END. 


r 


TH H  NEW  SABBATH  LIBRARY — ( Continued  from  second  par*  cover. ) 


In  League  With  the  Powerful 

BY  EUGENIA  D.  BIGHAM. 


In  this  book  the  a-ihor  tells  a  story  concerning  the 
fate  of  a  little  babe  separated  by  shipwreck  from  its 
parents,  and  God's  care  over  the  child. 


A  Star  in  a  Prison 

BY  ANNA  MAY  WILSON. 

The  central  figure  is  a  young  man  who,  in  the  peni- 
tentiary on  circumstantial  evidence,  learns  to  under- 
stand Christ's  self-giving,  and  is  finally  set  free. 


Clyde 


BY  KATB  W.  HAMILTON. 

This  story  tells  of  a  bright  young  girl  and  her  praise- 
worthy resolution.  The  account  of  her  failures  and 
victories  is  interesting  and  helpfuL 


The  Prince  of  the  House  of  David 

BY  REV.   J.   H.   INQRAHAU. 

The  fame  of  this  book  has  been  long  established,  and 
Its  fascination  has  held  sway  over  multitudes  of  de- 
lighted readers.  The  scene  is  laid  in  Jerusalem. 


The  Awakening  of  Kohaih  Sloane 

BY  JTJLIA  MACNAIB  WEIGHT. 

This  is  one  of  the  most  intensely  interesting,  pleasing, 
and  helpful  stories  for  young  people  ever  published. 
It  will  thrill  the  hearts  of  all  who  read  it. 


ChonitfV 

BY  ANNIE  MARIA  BARNES. 

The  gifted  author  of  this  book  has  here  produced  a 
vivid  story  of  the  Mexican  Mines.  It  first  appeared 
in  the  YOUNG  PEOPLE'S  WEEKLY. 


Ruby;  or,  A  Heart  of  Gold 

BY  A.    LLLA  RlLEY. 

This  story  is  of  Southern  life,  and  the  author  has 
portrayed  the  different  characters  in  a  clever  way  that 
will  charm  the  reader,  while  all  will  love  "Ruby." 


The  Days  of  Mohammed 

BY  ANNA  MAY  WILSON. 

Yusuf ,  a  Persian  of  the  fire- worshiping  sect,  has  re- 
volted against  his  religion.  In  his  travels  he  meets  that 
strangest  character  of  ancient  times,  Mohammed. 


The  Young  Ditch  Rider 

BY  JOHN  H.  WHTTSON. 

The  author  writes  after  a  protracted  experience  in  the 
West  The  story  forms  a  rare  picture,  and  the  portrayal 
of  scenes  and  events  is  a  fascinating  one.  r 


Out  of  the  Triangle 

BY  MARY  E.  BAMFORD. 

This  is  a  story  of  the  days  of  persecution  of  Chris- 
tians. The  book  relates  the  narrow  escapes  of  w 
Egyptian  lad  who  has  become  a  Christian. 


A   Double   Story 

BY  GEORGE  MACDONALD. 

This  beautiful  and  fascinating  story  is  one  of  the 
most  popular  ever  written  by  the  great  author  who 
won  the  title  of  "  A  Lover  of  Children." 


Titus:  a  Comrade  of  the  Cross 

BY  FLORENCE  M.  KINGSLBY. 

The  publishers,  desiring  to  secure  a  Life  of  Christ  o 
superior  merit,  offered  a  prize  of  $1,000.  The  committee 
decided  in  favor  of  "  TITUS." 


Intra  Muros;  a  Dream  of  Heaven 

BY  MRS.  REBECCA  R.  SPRINGER. 

An  entertaining  book,  calculated  to  make  heaven 
seem  nearer  and  more  real  to  us,  and  death  far  less 
gloomy. 


The  Wrestler  of  Philippi 

BY  FANNIE  E.  NEWBBRHY. 

A  tale  of  the  times  of  the  early  followers  of  Jesus,  am 
how  they  lived  the  Christ-life  in  the  first  century 
Its  Oriental  setting  gives  it  a  peculiar  interest 


Ten  Nights  in  a  Bar- Room 

BY  T.  S.  ARTHUR. 

New  edition  of  this  famous  work,  which  has  acquired 
a  world-wide  reputation  as  the  most  thrilling  and 
powerfully  written  temperance  story  ever  produced. 


A  Devotee  and  a  Darling 

BY  BECCA  MIDDLETON  SAMPSON. 
Fannie,  an  impulsive  girl  of  sixteen,  is  severely  tried 
and  in  a  manner  both  strange  and  startling,  her  ey« 
are  opened  to  see  her  own  mistaken  life. 


Pamphlet  Edition.  In  quarto  form,  enameled  paper  covers,  96  large  pages,  beautiful!] 
illustrated,  8  cents  per  copy,  postpaid,  to  any  address,  in  quantities  to  suit. 

Cloth  Edition  on  extra  heavy  paper,  handsomely  illustrated,  heavy  covers,  cloth  baol 
and  corners,  ornamented  sides,  25  cent*  per  copy,  postpaid,  to  any  address. 


jPRlCEsf 


ADDRESS: 


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for  young  people.    It  con- 
tains eight  pages  of   four  wide  columns   each,  illustrated   in  the  most  elaborate  manner  with  beautifuj 
original  "  half-tone  "  engravings.    It  is  the  best  and  cheapest  paper  for  young  people  ever  published. 

CONSECRATED  TALENT  OF  WRITERS.  CONSECRATED  OUTLAY  OF  PUBLISHI 

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E  Youth  of  To-day  need  the  best  paper  that 
can  be  devised.  We  are  the  only  Christian  pub- 
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answers  to  this  need.  No  other  publishers 

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Every  effort  possible  is  put 

forth  to  make  it  not  only 

the  most  attractive  paper 

for  young  people  but  also 

the  most  helpful. 
The  times   demand   that 

our    intelligent    boys     and 

girls  of  the  Sunday-school 

should  be  provided  with  the 

best   literature   reliable 

workers  can  supply. 

SERIAL 
STORIES. 

Believing  that  a  judicious 
use  of  serial  stories  of  the 
highest  character  is  to  be 
heartily  commended,  but 
believing  also  that  the 
greatest  care  must  be  ex- 
ercised lest  in  seeking  to 
quicken  interest  and  chain 
attention,  we  foster  sensa- 
tional tastes,  we  allow  only 
our  most  trusted  workers  to 
prepare  SERIAL  STOKIES. 

Besides  Serial  Stories, 
there  will  be  Short  Stories, 
illustrated;  Educational 
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Incidents  from  the  personal 
experience  of  the  World's 
best  workers. 

YOUNG  PEOPLE'S  SOCIETIES. 

Christian  Endeavor,  Epworth  League,  and  Baptist  Young 
People's  Union,  are  given  prominent  place.  Each  depart- 
ment carefully  edited  by  a  well-known  worker  connected 
with  the  Society. 


SPECIAL  NUMBERS. 

The  great  pleasure  our  special  numbers  have  affc 
stimulates  us  to  still  greater  effort,    Special  nui 
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Filled  by  workers  abJ 
and  containing  letters,  j 
dents,  stories,  etc ,  g£ 
by  personal  experie] 
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children  of  other  landsJ 

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this  introduced  somet 
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Gold  hunting  in  Alaska 


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