A
GAIN the boys are starting for the Koyuk River country. Although it is the twenty-eighth of January, and between twenty-five and thirty degrees below zero, nothing can deter Mr. L., who has made up his mind to go to the headwaters of the big river regardless of weather. L., B. and a native are to compose the party, and this time they are going with reindeer. They will take with them a tent, stove, fur sleeping bags, matches, "grub," guns and ammunition, not to mention fry pans and a few tins for cooking purposes. Then they must each take a change of wearing apparel in case of accident, and make the loads as light as possible. B. has made it a point to look well at his guns and cartridges, and has been for days cleaning, rubbing and polishing, while hunting knives have also received attention. The party may have, in some way, to depend upon these weapons for their lives before their return.
January twenty-ninth: Twenty-five degrees below zero, but without wind, and the boys have started off on their long trip up the Koyuk. The reindeer were fresh and lively, and when everythingwas loaded and lashed upon the three sleds, the animals were hitched to them, when, presto! the scene was changed in a moment. Each deer ran in several directions at the same time as if demented, overturning sleds and men, tossing up the snow like dust under their hoofs, and flinging their antlers about like implements of battle. Now each man was put to his wit's end to keep hold of the rope attached to the horns of the deer he was driving, and we who had gone out upon the ice to watch the departure feared greatly for the lives of the men interested.
At one time Mr. H., who was kindly assisting, was flung upon the ground, while a rearing, plunging animal was poised in mid-air above him; and I uttered a shriek of terror at the sight, thinking he would be instantly killed. However, he was upon his feet in an instant, and pursuing the animals, still clinging to the rope, as the deer must never, under any consideration, be allowed to get away with the loaded sleds.
When one of the boys attempted to sit upon a load, holding the rope as a guide in his hands, there would be a whisk, a whirl, and quicker than a flash over would go the load, sled and man, rolling over and over like a football on a college campus.
At this time the sun shone out brightly, tinting rosily the distant hills, and spreading a carpet of light under our feet upon the ice-covered surface ofthe bay. The clear, cold air we breathed was fairly exhilarating, sparkling like diamonds in the sun-beams, and causing the feathery snowflakes under our feet to crackle with a delightful crispness.
When the elasticity of the reindeer's spirits had been somewhat lessened by exercise, a real start was made, and we watched them until only small dots on the distant trail could be distinguished.
Something unpleasant has happened. M., the Finlander, told me this morning that he wants the room I occupy upstairs, and, of course, I will have to give it up. As the other rooms upstairs must be left for the men, of whom there are such numbers, there is no place for me except on the old wooden settle in the sitting room. To be sure, this is in a warm corner, but there are many and serious inconveniences, one being that I must of necessity be the last one to retire, and this is usually midnight.
For some time past I have been turning over in my mind the advisability of asking for the situation of nurse and teacher to Jennie and Charlie, and living in the hotel. Supplies are growing shorter in the Mission as the weeks go by, and my own are about exhausted, as is also my money. The children need me, and there is plenty of room in the hotel, though I am not fond of living in one.
I have consulted Mr. H., who sees no harm in my doing this if I want to. Meals are one dollar each everywhere in Chinik, and most kinds of "grub"one dollar a pound, while for a lodging the same is charged. To earn my board and room in the hotel by teaching and taking care of the two children I should be making an equivalent to four dollars a day, and I could have a room, at last, to myself. This is the way I have figured it out; whether Mollie and the Captain will see it in the same light remains to be seen.
Later: I ran over to see Mollie and her husband, and to present my plan to them. They both assented quickly, the Captain saying he does not want Jennie to stop her studies, and she is fond of having me with her. Besides, her mother wants to spend a good deal of time out hunting and trapping, as she thinks it better for Jennie, Charlie and herself to have fresh game, of which they are so fond, than to eat canned meats. I think it is better for them, and shall not object to some of the same fare myself when it is plenty. I am very glad, indeed, of the opportunity to earn my board and room in this way, for my work will only be with and for the two children, and I love them very much.
January thirtieth: A bad storm came up this afternoon with wind and snow. At the Mission one of the newcomers is making two strong reindeer sleds. He says he is used to Alaska winters, has been up into the Kotzebue Sound country, and is now going again with reindeer as soon as his sleds are finished. He is exceedingly fond of music,and enjoys my playing. I wonder if he will offer to stake a claim for me! I will not ask him.
January thirty-first: This terrible storm continues with snow drifting badly, and with wind most bitter cold. What about the boys on the Koyuk trail? I fear they will freeze to death. I have finished six drill parkies for the storekeeper, but cannot get them to him in the blizzard.
February first: I found when calling upon Jennie today that her mother was sick in bed with a very bad throat, so I spent most of the day and evening there. I did all I could for Jennie as well as Mollie, doing my best to amuse the child, who is still strapped down on her bed, and must find the day long, though she has a good deal of company. I had a first-class six o'clock dinner at the hotel tonight,—that is, for Alaska, at this season of the year.
February second: This is my birthday, and I have been thinking of my dear old mother so far away, who never forgets the date of her only daughter's birth, even if I do. I should like to see her, or, at least, have her know how well I am situated, and how contented I am, with a prospect before me which is as bright as that of most persons in this vicinity. If I could send my mother a telegram of a dozen words, I think they would read like this: "I am well and happy, with fair prospects.God is good." I think that would cheer her considerably.
It is beginning to seem a little like spring, and the water is running down the walls and off the windows in rivers upon the floors of the Mission, which we are glad are bare of carpets; the snow having sifted into the attic and melted. The warm rain comes down at intervals, and we are hoping for an early spring.
Mollie is really very sick, and must have a doctor, her throat being terribly swollen on one side. The pain and fever is intense, and though we are doing all we know how to do, she gets no better. Some men started out for the doctor at White Mountain, but there was too much water on the ice, and they returned.
February sixth: The man who made the two reindeer sleds for his Kotzebue trip has gone at last with two loads and three reindeer. He wanted his drill parkie hood bordered with fur, as I had done some belonging to others, and I furnished the fox tails, and sewed them on for him.
"Shall I stake a claim for you?" asked the man with a smile the day before he left the Mission.
"O, I would like it so much!" said I, really delighted. "I did not wish to ask you, because I thought you had promised so many."
"So I have," he replied, "but I guess I can stake for one more, and if I find anything good I will remember you."
"Shall I have a paper made out?" I inquired, feeling it would be safer and better from a business point of view to do so.
"You may if you like. I will take it," said he; and I thanked him very cordially, and hastened to the Commissioner to have the paper drawn up. It did not take long, and the man has taken it, and gone. Being an old mail carrier and stampeder of experience in this country, he ought to know how to travel, and, being a Norwegian, he is well used to the snow and the cold. He says he always travels alone, though I told him he might sometime get lost in a storm and freeze to death, at which he only laughed, and said he was not at all afraid. Two years afterwards he was frozen to death on the trail near Teller City, northwest of Nome. He was an expert on snowshoes or ski, both of which he learned to use when a boy in Norway.
February tenth: The two young men, B. and L., have returned from the Koyuk trip, having been able to travel only three days of the eleven since they left here on account of blizzards, but they will not give it up in this way.
Mollie and Jennie are better, the doctor having been here two days. For the little invalid there is nothing of such interest as Apuk's baby, and as the child is well wrapped and brought in often to see her, she is highly delighted. She holds the baby in her arms, and hushes it to sleep as any old womanmight, lifting a warning finger if one enters the room with noise, for fear of waking it. Little Charlie cries with whooping cough a great deal and is taken to Ageetuk's house when he gets troublesome, as he worries both Mollie and Jennie. Under no consideration is Charlie to come near enough to Jennie to give her the whooping-cough, for she coughs badly already. She and I make paper dolls by the dozen, and cloth dresses for her real dolls, which, so late in the season, are getting quite dilapidated and look as though they had been in the wars.
Many natives are now bringing beautiful furs into camp for sale, and among others one man brought a cross fox which was black, tipped with yellow, another which was a lovely brown, and a black fox valued at two hundred dollars which the owner refused to sell for less, though offered one hundred for it. I have never seen more lovely furs anywhere, and I longed to possess them.
It seems almost like having a hospital here now, for we have another patient added to our sick list. Joe, the cook, is ill, and thinks he will die, though the doctor smiles quizzically as she doses him, thinking as she does so that a few days in bed and away from the saloons will be as beneficial as her prescriptions.
Today the hills surrounding the bay were lovely in the warm sunshine both morning and evening,pink tinted in the sunrise and purple as night approached.
Mail came in by dog-team from Nome, going to Dawson and the outside, so I mailed several letters. I wonder if they will be carried two thousand miles by dogs—the whole length of the Yukon, and finally reach Skagway and Seattle.
What a wicked world this is anyway! My two fox skins were stolen from the living room of the hotel last night, where I hung them, not far from the stove, after having had them tanned, and forgetting to take them to my room. I can get no trace of them, and am exceedingly sorry to lose them. The captain thinks the skins will be returned, but I do not.
The Commissioner from Council came into the hotel, and he, with the resident official, proceeded to celebrate the occasion by getting uproariously drunk, or going, as it is here called, "on a toot," which is very truthfully expressive, to say the least.
February eighteenth: The doctor went home several days ago. Mollie is better, and wore, at the Sunday dinner yesterday, her new grey plaid dress made by Alma, which fits well and looks quite stylish. I sat with her at the long table which was filled with guests, employees and boarders—a public place for me, which I do not like over much, but what can I do? The two Commissioners are sobered, look sickly, and more or less repentant; the resident official declaring to me he would nowquit drinking entirely, and buy me a new silk dress if he is ever seen to take liquor again.
I had nothing to say to him, except to look disgusted, and he took that as a rebuke. The other Commissioner was exceedingly polite to me when he came into the living room to bid all good-bye, and said if, at any time, there was anything in the way of business transactions he could do for me, to let him know; he would be delighted—as if I would ever ask any favor of him!
The weather is blustery, like March in Wisconsin. Mollie asked me to go upstairs with her, look at rooms, and select one for myself, which I did, deciding to take a small unfurnished one (except for a spring cot, mirror, and granite wash bowl and pitcher), as this will be easily warmed by my big lamp, and it has a west window, through which I will get the afternoon sun.
I cleaned the floor, and tacked up a white tablecloth which I had in my trunk, for a curtain; spread my one deer skin rug upon the floor, made up the cot bed with my blankets, opened my trunk, hung up a few garments, and was settled. This is the first spring bed I have slept upon since Mr. H. took the velvet couch away from the Mission. I found the boarded walls very damp, as was also the floor after cleaning, but my large lamp, kept burning for two hours, dried them sufficiently, and I am quite well satisfied.
Ageetuk has been papering the sewing-roomwith fresh wall paper, and it looks better, but it has made a good deal of confusion all round, and there are numbers of people, both native and white, coming and going all day long.
February twenty-third: Yesterday was Washington's Birthday, but quiet here. Today Mollie and I took Jennie and Charlie out on a sled with Muky to push behind at the handle-bar through the soft, deep snow. Mollie sat upon the sled, and rode down hill twice with the children, Muky hopping on behind; but I took a few kodak views of them, which I hope will be good. I also received some mail from the outside which was written last November.
Some of the men in the hotel have tried to play what they call "a joke" on me. The steward of the house has a key which unfastens the lock on my door, as well as others; so they went into my room and tied a string to the foot of my bed, first boring a hole through the boards into the hall, and running the string through it. This string, I suppose, they intended to pull in the night and frighten me; but Mollie and I happened to go up there for something and found it.
I was indignant, but everybody of whom Mollie inquired denied knowing anything of it, and I said very little. Going to my trunk afterwards, I found that the lock had been picked and broken,—a pretty severe "joke," and one I do not relish, as now I have no place in which to keep anythingfrom these men. If they enter my room whenever they choose in the daytime, what is to prevent them when I am asleep? I took Mollie upstairs and showed her the broken lock, and she stooped to brush some white hairs from her dark wool skirt.
"Where they come from?" she asked suddenly. Then, picking at the reindeer skin upon the floor under her feet, she said, nodding her head decidedly, "I know. He—Sim—come to me in sewing-room,—hair all same this on two knees of blank pants. I say, 'Where you get white reindeer hair on you, Sim?' He say, 'I don't know.' Sim make hole in wall, and string on bed for you, Mrs. Sullivan. He make lock peeluk, too," and Mollie's face wore a serious and worried expression.
"O, well, Mollie," said I, "don't worry. I shall say nothing to any of the men as they are mad at me now."
Mollie nodded significantly and said: "Your fox skins peeluk, Mrs. Sullivan. Sim knows where—he never tell—sell for whiskey, maybe," and Mollie turned to go, as though he were a hopeless case, and beyond her government.
"Yes, Mollie, I think so; but you can not help what these bad men do. I know that, and do not blame you."
"My husband very sorry 'bout fox skins. He cannot find—he no blame," and she seemed to fear that I would attach some blame to the captain.
"No, indeed, Mollie, I don't think your husband can help what they do. I should not have left my fox skins hanging in that room, and will be careful in future, but if they come into my room they may steal other things, and I do not like it."
"I know, I know,—Sim no good—Joe no good—Bub no good," and she went away in a very depressed state of mind to Jennie and Apuk's baby.
Of course Mollie told all to the captain, who immediately accused the men in the bar-room, and they all swore vengeance upon me from that on, so I suppose they will do all they can to torment me.
We are having a sensation in Chinik. The "bloomin' Commissioner" is about to be deposed from office, for unfitness, neglect of duty, and dissipation; and a petition is being handed around the camp by the Marshal, praying the Nome authorities that he be retained. The honest storekeeper refused to sign it, as have many of the Swedes. The Commissioner swears by all that is good and great to quit drinking, and be decent. Time will tell—but I have no faith in him.
Mollie goes often these days to look for foxes and to shoot ptarmigan, taking with her a dog-team, and a native boy or two with their guns. When it is bright and sunny, I take the two little children out in the fur robes on the sled, with a native to push the latter, and I enjoy the outing fully as well as they. Jennie is put to bed again on her return, and the weight—a sand bag—attachedto her foot, according to the doctor's orders.
The weather is very springlike, and we have wind "emeliktuk," as little Charlie says when he has a plenty of anything. Snow storms are sandwiched nicely in between, but many "mushers" are on the trails. Mollie gets now and then a fox, either white or crossed, and one day she brought in a black one.
Liquor is doing its fiendish work in camp each hour of the twenty-four. Some are going rapidly down the broad road to destruction; a few turn their backs upon it, and seek the straighter way. Some half dozen of the men headed by Sim and Bub are drinking heavily most of the time, gambling between spells for the money with which to buy the poison.
Very late one night a party of drunken men pounded with their fists upon my door.
"She's in—hic—there, boys," said one of the men in a halting way customary with tipplers.
"Bust in the door!" blurted another.
"Drive her out'n here, Bub, ye fool!" yawned another, almost too sleepy for utterance.
In the meantime I lay perfectly still. Not a sound escaped me, for although my heart beat like a sledge hammer, and I was trembling all over, I knew it was best not to speak. After a little more parleying they all went off to finish their "spree" elsewhere. Next day I reported the affair to the captain, who, with his wife, in their ground floorapartments in the farther end of the building, had not heard the noise of the night before. Of course the men were now furious, denying everything, calling me a "liar," ad infinitum.
A fine-looking young man, a dentist and doctor, claiming to come from an eastern city, while sitting at the table last evening, after much insane gibberish, fell back intoxicated upon the floor, and lay insensible for some time. He was finally, when the others had finished eating, dragged off to bed in a most inglorious condition, to suffer later for his dissipation. O, how my heart ached for his dear old mother so far away! If she had seen him as I saw him, I think she would have died. It is better for her to believe him dead than to know the truth.
W
HEN Sunday comes, Jennie and I always wear our best clothes, neither sewing, studying, nor doing any work, but we read Bible stories, learn verses, look at pictures, and keep the big music box going a good share of the time. Sometimes if it is bright and warm, I take the two children out for a ride, and Jennie likes to call upon her grandmother.
The long front porch of the hotel has been opened again, the sides having been taken off, and the ice and snow cut away from the steps, so the little ones often play upon the porch in the sun for an hour or two. There are now a number of little puppies to be fed and brought up, some of them of pure Eskimo breed, and Charlie likes to frolic with them by the hour. They are very cunning, especially when Mollie puts a little harness which she has made upon each one, making them pull the sticks of wood she fastens behind in order to teach them to haul a load. Mollie is frequently gone for two days hunting, and if she does not find what she looks for the first day she sleeps uponher sled a few hours rolled in her furs, then rises and "mushes" on again.
Far and near she is known and respected, and the name of "Mollie" in this country is the synonym of all that is brave, true and womanly; hunting and trapping being for an Eskimo woman some of the most legitimate of pursuits. The name of Angahsheock, which means a leader of women in her native tongue, was given her by her parents, as those who know her acknowledge.
In severe contrast to the character of Mollie is Polly, who has developed an insane jealousy of me on the children's account, and who never loses an opportunity to annoy and insult me, much to my surprise. One day she will hide my books, pour soup over my dress in the kitchen, slam the door in my face, and make jeering remarks in Eskimo, causing the native boys to giggle; and worst of all, telling Charlie in her language that I will kill and eat him, thus making him scream when I attempt to wash or dress him.
However, there is another and principal reason for her ill treatment of me, which is far reaching, for Polly and Sim are cronies, and the girl does what he tells her to do, and that is to torment me as much as possible.
For these reasons and others I decided some time ago to carry my meals into the living room on a tray when I give the children theirs; especially when Mollie is away, and the rough element doesnot feel the restraint of her presence at table. There are no other white women in the house, unless, perhaps, one comes in from the trail with the men for a day, and these are, as a rule, not the kind of women to inspire the respect of any one. So I spread Charlie's and my food upon a small table, and Jennie's on her own tray, for after each little outing she is strapped and weighted down in bed as before, and we would be very happy if it were not for Polly, Sim, and a few other "toughs" in the hotel and vicinity.
Each day I manage, when Jennie is busy with Apuk's baby, O Duk Dok, the deaf girl, grandmother, and her other numerous Eskimo friends, to slip away and run out for a little fresh air, and into the Mission for a few minutes. Then I sit down at the organ for a while, or hear of those coming and going on the trails, perhaps climbing the hill behind the Mission for more exercise before going back to Jennie.
The first week in April has been pleasant, and sunny for the most of the time, but last night the eighth of the month, the thermometer, with a high wind, fell to thirty degrees below zero, and froze ice two inches thick in my room upstairs.
Mr. L. and B. have returned from their Koyuk trip, having staked one creek upon which they found colors, and which they were informed by natives was a gold bearing creek. Their supply of grub would not allow them to remain longer. Theyhave staked a claim for me, with the others. Number Fourteen, above Discovery, is mine, but they do not give out the name of the creek until they have been up there and staked another stream near the first one. When I get my papers recorded I shall feel quite proud of this, my best claim, perhaps, so far; and I am thankful and quite happy, except for the disagreeable features of hotel life, which I am always hoping will be soon changed. So long, however, as the deadly liquor is sold in almost every store and cabin, the cause of disturbances will remain, and men's active brains, continually fired with poison as they are, will concoct schemes diabolical enough to shame a Mephistopheles.
Today, after due deliberation regarding the matter, I asked B., on the aside, if he would lend me a revolver. He gave me a quick and searching look.
"Do you want it loaded?" he asked.
"Yes, please, and I will call after supper for it," said I, in a low tone, while going out the door.
Early this morning, putting on my furs and carrying a small shoe box under my arm, I ran over to the Mission. In the hall I was met by B., to whom I handed the box. He took it quietly and went directly to his room, reappearing in a moment and handing it back to me, saying significantly as he did so: "Three doses of that are better than one, if any are needed," which remark I understood without further explanation.
I have brought the box to my room and have placed it under the head of my cot upon the floor, where, in case of emergency, it may be of service. It is not a pretty plaything, and will not be used as such by me, but I shall feel safer to know it is near at hand.
Little did I know when I selected my room the day Mollie brought me upstairs that on the other side of the board partition slept the man who had killed another in the early winter; and, though the murderer has so far never molested me in any way, still he sometimes gets what they call "crazy drunk," and is as liable to kill some other as he was to kill the first; then, too, thin board walls have ears, and I have heard the mutterings and threats of these wretches for a number of weeks.
I have been exceedingly sorry for a month past to see the preparations my friends, the Swedish women in the Mission, are making to go to Nome, and now they expect to start tomorrow. They must be in town to put everything in readiness for the opening of the "Star" when the first steamers arrive from the outside. The weather is bright and pretty cold today, making the trails good, but in a thaw they are bad and are now liable to break up at any time. Quite a party will go to Nome, Mr. L., M. and others, and they will travel with dogs. I dread to see my Swedish friends, the only white women in this camp with whom I can be friendly, leave Chinik, for I shall then be morealone than ever. If this tiresome ice in the bay would only move out so the boats could get in, we should have others, but there is no telling when that will be. Many are now betting on the breaking up of the ice, and all hope it will be very soon.
May second: My Swedish friends left very early today for Nome, and only Miss L. from the Home is there, sweeping out the place; but B. and the visiting preacher will go with her to the Home today, closing the hospitable doors of the Mission for a time. This evening they held a meeting for the natives in camp, and I attended, but it seemed like a funeral without the friends now "mushing" on the Nome trail.
A woman has come to live at Mellie's, and is a study in beaver coat, dyed brown hair (which should be grey, according to her age), and with, it is reported, a bank account of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, after having lived in Alaska nearly five years. She is called a good "stampeder," has a pleasant, smiling face, but is usually designated "notorious."
May tenth: Mollie went out early with Muky, her dog-team and guns, to escort Ageetuk, Alice and Punni Churah, with their mother, who is Mollie's aunt, to their new hunting camp in the mountains. At seven in the evening Mollie returned with wet feet. Tomorrow she will take a net, and some other things they have forgotten. They have gone to take their annual spring vacation andhunt grey squirrels for a month, living in a hut in the meantime. The weather is warm and springlike.
May thirteenth: The captain has been obliged to go to Nome on business, weak and ill though he is, and has been for months. It did not seem to me that he could live through the winter, and he is far too weak to take this long trip over the trail, but he says he is obliged to go, and will return at the earliest possible moment. He has taken Fred, the Russian boy, and a team of nine dogs, leaving after supper, and intending to travel night and day, as we now have no darkness.
The dissipated men around camp, idle and drunken most of the time, with nothing to occupy their attention after the long, tedious winter, still spend their hours in gossiping, swearing, drinking, and gambling, knowing no day and no night, but making both hideous to those around them. As a destroyer of man's self-respect, independence, and dignity, there is nothing to compare with the accursed liquor. There are numbers of instances in camp proving the truth of this statement. There is the English clergyman's tall and handsome son, well educated, musical and of agreeable manners—fitted to grace the best society, but—liquor is to blame for his present condition, which is about as low as man can sink.
It is ten in the evening and I am in my little room upstairs, the only white woman in the campexcept Mellie and two like her. Down stairs in the bar-room the men are singing, first coon songs and then church hymns, with all the drunken energy they can muster. The crash of broken glass, angry oaths, and the slamming of doors reaches my ears so frequently as to cause little surprise, the French cooks in the kitchen adding their share to the disturbance. In a distant part of the hotel lies the little sick girl, her cot rolled each night close to the bedside of her mother, who tries to soothe her in her pain, Mollie and the wicked little Eskimo servant being the only women besides myself in the house. The noise and confusion increases down stairs, and I shall sleep little tonight. I will look at my revolver and see that its contents have not been removed.
May fifteenth: Here I am alone with the little children, a bad native girl, and a gang of the worst men in Alaska, Mollie having gone out hunting. At midnight Sim, Mellie and several others left for a dance at White Mountain, but it was two o'clock in the morning before the house was quiet. While I lay perfectly still, and trying to sleep, a man's stealthy footstep passed my door. He walked in his stocking feet—bare floors and walls echo the slightest sound, and my ears are keen. Was it a friend or foe? What was his object? My heart beat with a heavy thud, but I remembered the loaded revolver under my bed, and thanked God for it.
After a long time I slept a fitful, uneasy sleepfor an hour, and dressed myself as usual at half-past six o'clock, feeling badly for want of needed sleep. Afterwards I washed, dressed and fed the children, amusing and entertaining them in my accustomed way. Ageetuk's house being closed, little Charlie is kept here all the time, Polly looking after him nights. A saloon keeper named Fitts, villainous in reality as well as in looks, is hanging around continually, wearing the blackest of looks at every one, having been in trouble nearly all winter, and closing out his saloon a few weeks ago. A big Dutchman, burly as a blacksmith and well soaked in whiskey, lounges about in blue denim and skull cap, winking his bleared eyes at Polly and swearing soundly at his native wife when she steps inside the doors to look after him.
All went well for a while today after Mollie's leaving, Jennie coaxing to be carried to her grandmother's for a visit, to which I consented, until Charlie and I sat down to supper, which I had spread, as is my habit, in the living room. During the day I had turned matters well over in mind, and decided, with Mollie's advice, to sleep in her bed alongside of Jennie's cot, and to have grandmother stay with us, locking the doors of the rooms, as they should be. To my consternation, when I chanced to look for the keys in the doors, there were none, showing plainly that they had been removed.
This looked like a trap. There was nothing todo, much as I disliked it, but to ask for the keys, as I would never spend the night in the house without them. Soon afterward the steward entered, and I very calmly and politely asked for the door keys of the two rooms, saying that I would spend the night with Jennie. With cool insolence he replied that he would lock them himself.
Again the trap. I made no reply. I saw that he had been drinking—that he was not himself, and that it was useless to argue with him.
After waiting for an answer, and getting none, the man went out carelessly, leaving the door ajar behind him. At that moment the supper bell rang and he, with others, sat down to the table.
"She wants the keys to the doors, she says," drawled the man I had spoken with regarding them.
"What did ye tell her?" demanded one of the ruffians.
"I told her I would lock the doors myself," said the fellow.
"What does she want of keys? Who is she afraid of? It must be you, Bub; 'tain't me," said one.
"You're a liar!" shouted Bub. "It's the genial dispenser of booze here beside me she's afraid of."
"I'll see to her after supper, you bet!" shouted an official voice, at which I shuddered. A general hubbub now ensued; among others I could distinguishthe word "black-snake whip," but I had heard enough.
I was planning as I listened. Leaning forward I kissed the little child beside me, and said softly, "Eat all your supper, dear, and then go to Polly. 'Sully' is going to grandma's."
Throwing a light wrap over my head, I ran out of the front door, and around the west end of the house, careful not to pass the dining-room windows, where the men would see me, and hastened to grandmother's cabin, knowing that I should there find Jennie. Grandmother lived alone except for O Duk Dok, the deaf girl, and they must give me shelter for the night.
Here I found Jennie quite happy, with her deaf friend sitting on the edge of the bed beside her, while her grandmother was busy with her work.
In a few words I explained to the old woman the situation, and I was made welcome, Jennie being pleased to remain in the cabin all night. I knew Polly would put Charlie to bed when the time came, and the boy was safe enough where he was. I did not believe the gang would disturb me in grandmothers' cabin, but I feared they would loot my room in my absence.
Here Jennie could assist me. I now asked her to have O Duk Dok go out for the native named Koki, and bring him to me, which she did, the deaf girl understanding by the motion of the child's lips what was being said.
O Duk Dok then drew on her parkie, and went out.
"Koki," said I, when the native had entered the room a few minutes later, and closed the door behind him, "will you go to my room—Number three—in the hotel, and get some things for me?"
"Yes," was the laconic reply of the man.
"Here is the key of the door. Between the mattresses of the bed you will find two books, and in the shoe box on the floor there is a revolver. Bring them to me under your parkie so no one shall see what you have. Take this little key, lock my trunk and be sure you fasten the door behind you. You won't forget?"
"All right. I no forget," and Koki grinned, and went out.
He did not forget. In about twenty minutes he returned, bringing the keys, revolver, and diaries which I had kept hidden for fear the lawless fellows might find and destroy them.
I now felt much relieved. I did not think the gang would come to the cabin, but in case they did there was the revolver, and grandmother's two doors had locks, which if not the very strongest, were better than none, and I fastened them immediately after Koki's departure.
May eighteenth: The night I slept in grandmother's cabin with Jennie passed quietly for us. I slept in my clothes and muckluks, an old quilt and fur parkie on some boards being my bed, thoughgrandmother finally gave me a double blanket for covering when I asked for it.
It was long past midnight before we slept. The child was restless, and urged her grandmother to tell her Eskimo stories. O Duk Dok slept heavily, unconscious of all around her. My own senses were on the alert. I listened intently to catch every sound, but we were too far away from the hotel to hear the carousal that I well knew was there in progress. The mushers from the dance were hourly expected home, and would then add their part to the midnight orgies. The low droning of the old Eskimo woman, telling her tales of the Innuits, of the Polar bear, the seal and the walrus, of the birds, their habits and nestlings; this was the only sound I heard.
After a time the others slept and I went to the window and looked out. At my right, only a stone's throw away, was the Mission, its windows and doors all fastened, and its occupants gone. I felt a heart-sinking sensation as I thought of the friends who were there lately. Across the way was the old schoolhouse, in which were the musician, his partner and the deaf man, who had been bitten by the mad dog. They were within calling distance, and for that I felt thankful. I had dreaded the night in the cabin for fear that I should suffer for fresh air, but seeing a broken pane of glass into which some cloth had been stuffed, I removed the latter, and allowed the pure air to enter. Ofcourse the place was scented with seal oil, but grandmother's cabin was comparatively tidy and clean.
Next morning, when we knew that breakfast was over, we went in a body to the hotel, grandmother carrying Jennie on her back, according to Eskimo custom. Some of the men were still sleeping off their dissipation of the night before. Nothing was said about our remaining away, and the Eskimo women spent the day with us. Others also came, called quietly in to see Jennie, and remained to the meals I was glad to give them for their company.
When six o'clock arrived, and still we saw nothing of Mollie, I felt anxious. If she did not return it meant another night in the native hut for us. Eight, nine, ten o'clock—thank God! She had come at last. I could have hugged her for joy. She had nearly one hundred ptarmigan, enough to last till the captain came home, and would not leave us again alone.
Later: The captain returned from Nome, having made the trip of eighty-five miles and back by dog-team in four days and nights, a very quick trip indeed. The "toughs" have subsided, and are on their good behavior for the present, at least, fearing what the captain will say and do when their last doings are reported, but I understand that most of them are mortally offended at my remaining at grandmother's, as no one takes offense so easily as a rogue when his honesty is doubted.
T
HE last week of May has finally come, and with it real spring weather. The children play out in the sand heap on the south side of the house for hours together, enjoying the warm sunshine and pleasant air, the little girl clothed from head to foot in furs. Never has a springtime been so welcome to me, perhaps because in striking contrast to the long, cold winter through which we have just passed. From the hillside behind the Mission, the snow is slowly disappearing, first from the most exposed spots and rocks, the gullies keeping their drifts and ice longer. Mosses are everywhere peeping cheerfully up at me in all their tints of gorgeous green, some that I found recently being tipped with the daintiest of little red cups. This, with other treasures, I brought in my basket to Jennie when I returned from my daily walk upon the hill, and together we studied them closely under the magnifying glass.
To examine the treasures brought in by Mollie, however, we needed no glass. They are sand-pipers, ptarmigan, squirrels, and occasionally a wild goose, shot, perhaps, in the act of flying over thehunter's head, as these birds are now often seen and heard going north. In the evening I see from my window the neighboring Eskimo children playing with their sleds, and sometimes they light a bonfire, shouting and chattering in their own unique way. All "mushers" now travel at night when the trail is frozen, as it is too soft in the daytime, and the glare of the sun often causes snow-blindness. Then, too, there is water on the ice in places, which we are glad to see, and pools of the same are standing around the Mission and schoolhouse. I can no longer go out in my muckluks, but must wear my long rubber boots and short skirts.
Today I went out for an hour, walking to Chinik Creek over the tundra, from which the snow has almost disappeared, and returned by the hill-top path. The tundra was beautiful with mosses, birds were singing, and the rushing and roaring of the creek waters fairly made my head swim, they were such unusual sounds. The water was cutting a channel in the sands where it empties into the bay. Here it was flowing over the ice, helping to loosen the edge and allow it to drift out to sea.
There is little change in the manners and dispositions of the rough men in camp. There are the same things with which to contend day after day, the same annoyances and trials to endure, with new ones in addition quite frequently.
June has come at last, and all the world shouldbe happy, but, alas, there is always some worm in the bud to do the blasting. This morning about three o'clock I was wakened by the sound of drunken voices outside my window, followed by stones hurled against the side of the house. Quickly rising, I cautiously peeped out from behind the curtain, but was not surprised at what I saw. There, about a hundred feet away, were four men, all well known to me as members of the gang, and all in the most advanced stages of intoxication. On the step of a neighboring cabin sat the murderer, Ford, hugging in a maudlin way a big black bottle.
On the ground, in the dirt, there rolled two young men, the Englishman underneath, and Big Bub over him. Sim, the leader, had aimed four stones at my window, but missed it, and felt the need of more stimulant, so he took the bottle from Ford, carried it to the lumber pile, a few feet away, sat down, put it to his lips and drank heavily. Again and again he tipped up the bottle while he drank, but finally threw it away empty. Then, with much exertion, he stooped to pick up a stone.
He was aiming at my window. I dodged into a corner, but the box washstand stood partly in my way. Would he hit his mark? I did not believe it. He was too drunk. Crack! came the stone against the house.
I waited. Another followed. In the meantime the other men had paid no attention to him, asFord was watching the two tumblers, the lumber pile being between them and Sim; and the three started for the front door around the south side of the house. Sim followed them. I now hoped he would forget his stone throwing. When they were all out of sight I breathed more freely. Surely now the trouble was over, I thought, and I threw off my fur coat which I had hastily pulled on over my wrapper, crept into bed and covered my head with the blankets.
I now thought quickly. Even if Sim should forget to throw more stones, would he not soon come upstairs and perhaps give me more trouble? Would it not be better to dress myself and be prepared for any emergency? I was hurriedly deliberating upon the matter—my head still covered with the blankets—when there was a loud crash and shivered glass covered the floor and the bed clothes. Instantly throwing the latter back, I looked around me. I could see no stone, and I had heard none fall upon the floor, but it must be there somewhere.
I now stepped carefully out of bed, in order to avoid the glass, my feet being already in knit, wool slippers, with thick, warm soles—and again looked out.
There was no one to be seen. Sim had done his dastardly work, and gone indoors. Would this end it? My teeth shattered, and I felt cold. I must keep my nerve, however, and I did so, dressing myself carefully even to my stout shoes whichI laced up in front and tied. Then I drew on my fur coat and sat down to wait.
Below the four men were poking around in the kitchen, trying to find something to eat or drink. It was not long before I heard them coming upstairs, and all tumbled into the next room, which was occupied by Ford.
If they came to molest me further there was yet one way of escape which I would try before using my revolver. The weapon I did not want to use unless driven to it. There was the staging outside my window which had never been removed since the house was built, the year before. I could very easily step out upon it, and walk to the end of the house, but then I must either jump or remain, for there was no ladder. This staging was, perhaps, twenty feet from the ground, and the latter frozen. To slide down a post would tear my hands fearfully.
I had not long to wait. To go peaceably to bed seemed to be the last thing these men thought of, and one picked up a gun, which, for hunting purposes, every man in the house kept close at hand.
"I zay, now, Bub, put up zat gun. Zis ain't no place for shootin'," drawled a thick, sleepy voice which I recognized instantly.
"Shut yer gab! Who's hurtin' you?" answered Bub, the biggest of the four, and one of the ugliest when intoxicated.
"Mrs. Sullivan's in the next room. You wouldn'tshoot her, would you?" asked Sim sneeringly in a loud tone, for he could stand up under great quantities of liquor.
"Sh! Keep still a minute, you fool!" in a harsh whisper from Bub.
I was now thankful that I was dressed. I waited no longer. Opening the door I ran down stairs to Mollie and the captain, knocking loudly upon their door.
"Hang those brutes!" exclaimed the captain angrily, when I had finished telling him what had happened. "What is the matter with them, any way?"
"Whiskey," said I. "They are all as drunk as pirates."
"Show me your room and window," demanded the captain, who by this time had gotten into some of his clothing, and stepped into the living room where I was.
I then led the way upstairs, and threw open my door. What a sight! Broken glass covered the floor and bed, the cool morning air pouring in through the broken pane of which there was little left in the sash.
That was enough for the captain. He made straight for the next room, where all was now perfectly still, only Ford remaining in it, the others having had sense enough to sneak off to their own places, after hearing me run down stairs to report.
Seizing my blankets I closed and locked the doorand made my way down stairs to Mollie. Above we could hear the captain's voice in angry altercation with the men, they denying everything, of course, even the stone throwing, with the window as evidence against them. It was half-past four and I had slept little. There was no fire in the house, and I was cold; so, throwing down a few skins in a corner of the sewing-room, with my blankets upon them, I covered myself to get warm.
At last the house was once more quiet, and I slept for an hour, only to meet black and angry looks from the men all day, accompanied by threats and curses, though I said nothing to them. I picked up the stone from my reindeer rug, where it had fallen after shattering the window pane, and it lay only two feet from my head. It was about the size of an egg.
Of course it is impossible for me to leave Chinik, as the winter trails are broken up, the ice has not left the bay, and no steamers can enter; so we are practically prisoners. O, how I long to get away from this terrible place! Never since I came to Chinik have I given these men one cross word, and yet they hate me with a bitter, jealous hatred, such as I have never before seen. Some weeks ago I pinned a slip of paper into my Bible, upon which I have written the address of my parents, in case anything should happen to me. O, to be once more safe at home with them! God grant that I may be before many months shall have passed.
A splendid warm, bright day, June thirteenth, the most of which the children and I have spent upon the sandy beach in front of the hotel. Little Jennie lies and plays on the warm, dry sand, though, of course, she does not stand on her feet nor walk. Other small Eskimos come to play with them, for Charlie is always on hand for a play spell on the sand, and I doze and read under my umbrella in the meantime, with an eye always upon them. They make sand pies, native igloos, and many imaginary things and places, but more than any other thing is my mind upon the coming of the steamers, when I hope to get away.
Mollie came in last night from a seal hunt upon the ice, and she, with the three native boys, secured a white seal, and eight others, but did not bring all with them. There is a great deal of water on the ice at this time, and none but natives like to travel upon it. Ducks and geese are flying northward in flocks above our heads, and we feast daily upon them. They are very large and tasty, and the cook knows well how to serve them.
We now see a line of blue water out beyond the ice, and even distinguish white breakers in the distance. Today I took a field glass, and climbing the hill behind the Mission to look as far out as possible, strained my eyes to see a steamer. As I stood upon the point to get a better view, the whole world around seemed waking from a long, long sleep.
At my left was Chinik Creek, pouring its rushing waters out over the bay ice with a cheerful, rapid roaring. Farther away south stretched the Darby Cape into blue water which looked like indigo, surmounted by long rolling breakers with combs of white, all being fully fourteen miles away. To the northwest of the sand-spit upon which Chinik is built, and which cuts Golovin Bay almost in two, the Fish River is also emptying itself, as is Keechawik Creek and other smaller streams. Over all the welcome sunshine is flooded, warming the buds and roots on the hillside, and making all beautiful.
June seventeenth: This is Bunker Hill Day in New England, and the men have been celebrating on their own account, setting off a fifty pounds box of dynamite in the neighborhood to frighten the women, I suppose. The shock was terrific, breaking windows, lamp shades, and jarring bottles and other articles off the shelves. Jennie was dreadfully frightened, and screamed for a few minutes, while the living room soon filled with men inquiring the cause of the explosion. By and by a man came in saying that another box of giant powder would be set off, but with that the Marshal left the room with a determined face, and we heard no more dynamiting. The men, as usual, were intoxicated.
I have just had a pleasant little outing at the Home, going with Mollie, who invited me to gowith her. She was going out seal hunting on the ice, would leave me at the Home for a short visit, and pick me up on her return. Ageetuk and grandmother would take good care of Jennie for so short a time, and I needed the change, so I ran up to my room, threw some things hastily into a small bag to take with me, locked my trunk, (I had long ago put a package consisting of papers and diaries into the safe in the kind storekeeper's care), dressed myself in my shortest skirts and longest rubber boots, and we started. The weather was too warm for furs in sunshine, or while running behind a sled, so I wore a thick jacket, black straw hat with thick veil, and kid gloves.
We left the hotel about half-past seven o'clock in the evening, but with the sun still high and warm. Mollie had her small sled and three dogs, with Muky and Punni Churah and their guns. The other sled was a large one, and to it were hitched seven good dogs, accompanied by Ituk and Koki. Upon the sleds were furs, guns, bags and fishing tackle. Along shore there was considerable water on the ice, in a few spots the latter had disappeared, and we could see the sandy beach, but farther east the ice was firmer, and Mollie, who made for the best looking places, led the way, I running closely in her footsteps.
Behind us came the men and teams, the calls of the Eskimos to their dogs sounding musically on the quiet evening air. Mollie and I were nowleaping over water-filled cracks or lanes in the ice, she having assured me that after getting away from the shore it would be better traveling, and we could ride on the sleds when we were tired, but I felt considerable pride in keeping up with her, and soon grew very warm from the stiff exercise, unaccustomed as I was, while she was well used to it.
After we had left the shore some distance behind us we halted for the sleds to come up, Mollie seating herself upon the small one, I waiting for the other a little later. There I ran at the handle-bars for a time, but at last I threw myself upon the sled among the furs, and pulled a parkie over me. We were now in the water a foot deep most of the time, the dogs picking their way along over the narrowest water lanes, Ituk and Koki shouting to them to gee and haw, and with Eskimo calls and whip-snapping, urging them on continually.
Soon we left the smaller sled behind; Mollie, Muky and Punni making the air ring with laughter and Eskimo songs. As we started out from home the sun shone brightly upon us, but as we left the land at our backs, and made our way farther out upon the bay, the sun dropped lower and lower, the sky became a mass of crimson and yellow, and the whole world seemed modestly blushing.
Along the east shore the rolling hills lay almost bare of snow, the brown tundra appearing softly and most artistically colored. To the north the mountains were still tipped with snow, as wasalso the promontory—Cape Darby, at the extreme southeast point. This was spotted and streaked with white, its rocky cliff black in shadow by contrast. Our eyes eagerly scanned the horizon for steamers, and a schooner had been reported off Darby loaded with fresh fruits and vegetables, but we could not see it.
By and by we were past most of the water lanes, and the ice was better. At half-past nine o'clock in the evening the sky was exceedingly grand, and a song of gratitude welled up in my heart, for this was another world from the one we had just left, and I no longer wondered at Mollie's love of hunting in the fresh air, under the beautiful skies, and with her freedom to travel wherever she liked.
With her I felt perfectly safe. No harm could come to me when Mollie led the way, and my confidence in the native men was equally strong; for were they not as familiar with ice and water as with land? I soon saw that we were headed toward the island, though I did not know why, and by this time Mollie was far ahead, also that we were being followed by a dog-team from Chinik, which puzzled me, for I had not heard that others were going out hunting for seal, or starting for the Home, which was my destination.
When we reached the north end of the small island Mollie ran up the path like a deer, I following, as did the natives, leaving the dogs to rest upon the ice. From a hole in the rocks Koki now hauledhis kyak or small skin boat, where he had left it from a former trip, and dragging it down upon the ice, he lashed it upon the small sled to be carried still farther.
The dog-team, which I had seen following in the distance, had now come up with us, and I heard one man say to the other: "There is Mrs. Sullivan," but I did not recognize the voice. When they came nearer, we found it to be two men from camp who were going out to the schooners to buy fruit and vegetables, and they wanted to get a dog belonging to them which Mollie had borrowed and had hitched into her team. A change of dogs was then made, and we started—Mollie and I on her big sled, the other two following.
We now skirted the rocky cliffs, and found the ice hummocky between great, deep cracks where the water was no longer white, but dark and forbidding. Sometimes Koki suddenly started the dogs to one side to avoid dark-looking holes in the ice, the dogs leaping over seams which quickly lay beneath us as the fore and hinder parts of our sled bridged the crevasse of ugly water.
Now the sled swayed from side to side as the dogs made sudden curves or dashes, then a big hummock of ice and snow had to be crossed, and one end of the sled went up while the other went down. I was holding to the side rails with both hands, and knowing that the sled was a good, strong one, I had no fear of its breaking, but myfeet were cold in my rubber boots, and I had drawn some furs over me.
Mollie is not a great talker, she seldom explains anything, and one has only to wait and see the outcome of her movements, and this I did, when she suddenly with Ituk left the sleds and climbed the rocks of the island again on the south side. Then I saw them gathering sticks and small driftwood, and knew that they would make a fire upon the ice at midnight, while preparing to hunt for seals.
Coming to a rough place, with high-piled ice between great, ugly seams over which the sagacious dogs dragged the sleds always in a straight line, not slantwise, I climbed out, and Mollie and Ituk came with their driftwood, which they threw upon the sled; the two men making for the schooner forging ahead in the direction of Cape Darby.
Ituk and Muky now made ready to go with me to the Home, a half mile away to the east where they were also to get some bread, this important item having been forgotten in the hurry of departure from Chinik. In the meantime Mollie, not to lose a moment of time, as is her method, had gotten out her fishing tackle and was already fishing for tom-cod through a hole in the ice. Bidding her Beoqua (good-bye), we started for the Home, Ituk politely taking my little bag, and Muky leaping lightly over the rocks toward the mainland. Along the shore of the island I wasfearful of cutting my boots on the jagged rocks and rubble thickly strewn over the sands, and had to proceed cautiously for a time, but Ituk, perceiving my difficulty, led to a smoother path, and we were soon on the mainland, and upon the soft tundra, when it was only a few minutes walk to the Home.
It was eleven o'clock in the evening, and we found the missionaries just returned from a trip to the schooner, where they had secured fresh potatoes and onions. The smell and taste of an onion was never so good to me before, and the potatoes were the first we had seen in six months.
I had been in the Home in the early spring for a day, and now, as then, met with a warm welcome from the missionaries. They now had double the number of native children they had in Chinik, and their house is large and commodious, though unfinished.
I was assigned the velvet couch upon which I had spent a good many nights, and the two natives returned to Mollie after securing some bread from Miss E. for their lunches.
Next day we visited, and I rested considerably, finding again how good it was to be in a safe and quiet place with no fear of stone throwers or giant powder.
About half-past ten o'clock in the evening, just after the sun had set, we started on our return trip, Mollie having arrived with her dog-teams andnatives. The sunset sky was exceedingly beautiful, but beneath our feet we had only very bad ice and water. Near the island great ice cakes were floating, interspersed with dark seams and lanes wider than we had before seen. Sometimes I rode on one of the sleds or walked, ran or leaped over the water holes to keep up with the rest until too tired and heated, when I threw myself upon a sled again; but as we proceeded we found firmer ice and less water. Mollie and I had both to ride upon one sled now, for Ituk had lashed the kyak upon the little one, and they were one dog short, as an animal had run away while they were eating supper at the Home. Finally, pitying the dogs upon the large sled, who seemed to have a heavy load (although only one seal, as they had met with little success in hunting), I motioned to Ituk to wait for me, which he did.
"Ituk," I called, as I came nearer, "let me ride in the kyak, will you?"
"You ride in kyak?" asked the man in surprise.
"Yes, let me get in, I will hold on tight," and, as he made no objection, I climbed upon the boat, crept into the hole made for that purpose and sat down.
"All right, Ituk; I am ready," I said.
The man laughed, cracked his whip, and the dogs started.
I had not before realized that I would be sitting so high up, and that at each dip in a crack or depressionof the ice, when the sled runner ran a little higher than the other, I should stand a grand chance of being spilled into the water, but my feet were so cold in my rubber boots that I was thinking to get them under cover would be agreeable, and though Ituk probably well knew what the outcome of my ride would be, he very patiently agreed to allow me to try it.
We had not gone far when our dogs made a sudden dash or turn, the right-hand runner slipped lengthwise into a seam, and over we went, sled, kyak, woman and all upon the ice in a sorry heap. The dogs halted instantly, and Ituk, who had been running on the left-hand side of them, came back at my call.
"O, Ituk, come here and help me! I cannot get out of the kyak," I cried lustily. "I will not get into it again," and I rubbed my wrist upon which the skin had been slightly bruised, and he assisted me to my feet.
The native laughed.
"Kyak no good—riding—heap better run," he said.
"That's so, Ituk, but my feet are very cold."
"Get warm quick—you running," was his reply, and we started on again.
When five or six miles from Chinik the water became more troublesome, and our progress was slow. We were wading through holes, leaping over seams, and treading through slush and water. Itwas colder than the night before, a thin skin of ice was forming, but not firm enough to hold one up. I was cold and cuddled into the sled with Mollie, but the two natives running alongside were continually sitting upon the rail to get a short ride instead of walking, thus loading the sled too heavily upon one side, and we were soon all tumbled into water a foot deep.
As I went over I threw out my arm to save myself, and my sleeve was soaked through in an instant. Koki and Muky thought it great fun, and laughed and shouted in glee, but to me it was a little too serious. My clothes were wet through on my right side, and I was now obliged to run whether I wanted to do so or not, for we were fully a mile from home. My gloves and handkerchief were soaked with water, and I threw them away, thrusting my hands into my jacket pockets and running to keep up with the others.
We were now wading and leaping across frequent lanes, and were more in the water than upon the ice. The sharp eyes of the natives had discerned the shore line well bordered by open water, and they were wondering how they would get across. Finally we could get no farther, and were a hundred feet from the beach.
"Dogs can swim," said Mollie, sententiously, as was her habit.
"How will you and I get on shore, Mollie?" I asked anxiously.
"Ituk, big man,—he carry you, may be," answered Mollie, roguishly, with a twinkle.
"But," I continued seriously, "how deep is the water, anyway, Koki?" seeing that he had been wading in to find out.
"Him not much deep. We walk all right,—'bout up here," and the native placed his hand half way between his knee and thigh to show the depth, then walking a little farther down towards the hotel he seemed to find a better place, and called for all to follow, which we did.
The men waded across to the shore, stepping upon stones which now and then, at this point, were embedded in the sand, Mollie boldly following their example. All wore high-skin boots, coming far above their knees, and water-tight, but my rubber-boots had never been put to a test like this, only coming a little above my knees, where the soft tops were confined by a drawstring, and this water was very cold, as I had good reason to know.
However, there was nothing to do but go on, first watching the others, and then plunging boldly in. I drew my boot-tops higher, fastened the strings securely, picked up my short skirts and wound them closely about me, but not in a manner to impede my progress, and stepped in.
By this time the dogs and men were upon the sands, and making for home, only a few rods away, but I took my time, walking slowly in order thatthe water should not slop over the tops of my boots, and we finally reached the beach and the house safely.