CHAPTER XIX.
A
APRIL 2. Sunday.—Evidently our Kowak church is dwindling. Only fifteen in attendance to-day. In C. C.'s absence Dr. Coffin and Uncle Jimmy conducted services. Van Dyke also took part. Miller and Van Dyke sang a duet. "Though Your Sins be as Scarlet." It was as fine as anything I remember to have heard anywhere. And this in our little cabin on the lonely Kowak: It snows a great deal and the north 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 taxidermy. 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 porcupine, 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 tramping all day have just had a magnificent dinner. Here, as elsewhere, something to eat is the first need. The doctor and I have had fine success. Got twenty-three rock ptarmigan. But we are tired and the poor doctor 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 beginning 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 enoughsunshine 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 Dutchman" arrived Thursday from St. Michaels. He has a dog team and is hurrying on up the river, expecting to return to Cape Nome before 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 letter from the "Penelope" crew stating that Harry Reynolds 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 snow 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 degrees below zero. By noon it is thawing. A man's socks and boots become soaked with perspiration and, as the afternoon advances, 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 tall, 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 with eight ptarmigan. We have put up the skins in fine shape.
Looking Northward.
Looking Northward.
April 22. Saturday.—It is snowing heavilymorning, with a strong north gale. Thedoctor went down to the Hanson Camp yesterday, 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 Camp 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 interesting and amusing to those who stay at home to note the efforts and trials of the poor peopletoiling 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 before half the distance is covered. By the route generally traveled it is about four hundred 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 winter 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 remain and the toes move by pulling an invisible string. Don't know as I can do it.
April 25.—We finished putting up our ptarmigan yesterday and have more on hand now. The past few days are warm, with southeast winds. I started out this morning 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 Station." 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 exposed.
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 experience 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 disassociated 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 of shooting. Out of every five birds he brings in good condition. I skin one for him. That rate is favorable for us both. He already has a box full and by spring will have quite a collection. I am getting a good deal of freight on my hands. It is bulky. I keep the neighborhood gleaned of empty boxes of all sorts. I am very short of cotton, either for wrappingor 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 twenty-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 person'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 going 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 allowed 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 reluctantly 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 undershirt, and was progressing towards my vitals when the doctor rang up the fire department. I was awakened by a sudden application 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 breakfast 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 wood-peckers, hawk owls, Alaskan jays, and white-winged crossbills. 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 berries, all the more sweet and juicy for their eight months' cold storage. The ptarmigan were on hand, too, and I shot two old roosters. The male ptarmigan are changing now, and specimens shot show some beautiful mixtures of the bright brown summer plumage and the snow-white winter plumage. 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 delight 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.