CHAPTER VIIILIFE AT AN ARCTIC MISSION
The first thing to be undertaken after theChimowas safely moored in her snug berth was the removal of Gerald Hamer to the little log hospital that was the pride of the doctor’s heart. This was accomplished without any danger from exposure by means of a canvas-covered litter especially constructed for the occasion. To be undressed for the first time in many days, given a warm bath, and placed in a bed that was actually spread with sheets was to be so “lapped in luxury” that, as the sick man whispered to Phil, any one who wouldn’t get well under such conditions deserved to die.
The second duty was the burial of poor Martin, for whom a grave was already prepared in the quaint little cemetery of the settlement. The rude coffin was borne by his late shipmates, and the entire community of Anvik, natives as well as whites, followed the body to its place of final rest. Never had Phil been so impressed with the solemn beauty of the Episcopal service as when he listened to its grand utterances amid the surroundings of that wild Northern land. The low-hanging sun, the moan of the wintry wind through the sombre forest, the attentive groups of dark-skinned natives, the mighty river rolling its tawny flood at their feet, and the encircling solitudes, vast, silent, and mysterious, centring at that simple grave, combined to form a picture that none of its spectators will ever forget.
When all was over the living left the dead with the dead, and returned to their homes. Even Phil and Serge declined, on the plea of utter weariness, the proffered hospitality of the mission for that night, and went back to their own quarters aboard theChimo, where for the next twenty-four hours they slept almost without intermission.
Then they were ready for anything, and when they again presented themselves at the mission, clad in new suits taken from the steamer’s ample trade stock, the ladies found it difficult to realize that these handsome, wide-awake young fellows were the same who, heavy-eyed, unkempt, and ready to drop with exhaustion, had brought theChimoto port two days before.
Nor did it seem to the boys that they could be in the same place, for while they slept the river had frozen completely over, a fall of snow had infolded all nature in its spotless mantle, and now the whole world lay sparkling in unclouded sunlight. If they were amazed at the change in the aspect of the mission they were also delighted with the missionary’s house, which they now entered for the first time. Not since leaving far-away New London had either of them seen anything to compare with the prettiness and comfort displayed in this wilderness house on the verge of arctic Alaska.
There were books, magazines, and pictures, rugs and potted ferns, a small organ, luxurious divans and easy-chairs, a museum of native curios, and many other noticeable objects of use or ornament. In an immense fireplace a cheery blaze roared and crackled, and before it a fine big cat purred forth his content. In the eyes of the boys there was nothing lacking to the perfection of this interior. And yet it was all very simple and inexpensive. Most of the furniture was home-made, the divans were cushioned with feathers from native wild-fowl,and the rugs were trophies from neighboring forest or waters.
The missionary’s family consisted of his wife, the doctor, a young lady teacher, and a white man who had charge of the saw-mill. Besides these there were a few bright native boys and girls who were under special instruction.
While the lads chatted with the ladies and marvelled at their surroundings one of the native boys was seen approaching the house, whereupon its mistress, saying, “Ah! there comes the mail,” went to the door. “Nothing but the paper,” she announced on her return; “but we shall at least learn the latest news.”
“I had no idea that you had a mail service in the winter,” remarked Phil, innocently, “nor that there was a paper published in this part of the world.”
“Oh, dear, no! It isn’t published here,” laughed the missionary’s wife. “It is a New York paper, and only a weekly at that; still it is better than none, and being of this week’s date its news is quite recent. See?”
So saying she held out the paper for Phil’s inspection, and to his amazement he saw that it was indeed a New York paper bearing the date of October 20th. Not until Serge, to whom this harmless deception was an old story, broke out with the laughter he could no longer restrain did it flash into Phil’s mind that the paper was a year old, and then he could have thumped himself for his stupidity.
“You see,” explained the missionary’s wife, “we only receive mail once or twice a year, and then we get such a quantity of papers that we cannot possibly read them all at once. So we lay them aside, and have them delivered one at a time on their regular dates, by which means we receive two or three newspapers every week during the year.”
“What a capital idea!” exclaimed Phil.
“Isn’t it? And it is such good training for the boys, who are allowed to act as postmen. Then, too, we use the papers in school in place of reading-books, and so have fresh topics with which to interest the scholars every week. On this account our reading-class is so popular that it has nearly outgrown the capacity of our school-room; but, thanks to Captain Hamer, we are to have a new one in the spring.”
“Indeed! Is he going to build you one?”
“He is already having it built, and it is to serve as your winter-quarters so long as you remain with us, after which it is to be presented to the mission.”
This was so interesting a bit of news that the boys must visit the hospital at once and learn what plans the leader of their expedition had made. They found him so far recovered as already to take an interest in his surroundings, and able to talk freely with them. He told them that with a view to the future needs of the school the new building was to be forty feet long by twenty wide, though for the sake of present warmth and comfort it was to be divided into several small sleeping-rooms, a large living-room for the use of theChimo’screw, and a store-room for such goods as it was deemed best to remove from the steamer for safer keeping.
“In it,” explained the captain, “we will make ourselves as comfortable as possible for the winter, and in the spring we will push on for the diggings. With the four hundred miles’ start we have got, thanks to you boys, we ought to reach them in time to do a rattling business before the company’s boats get there.”
“But how about going out by way of Chilkat for your next year’s supply of goods?” queried Phil.
“Oh, that plan must be given up, of course, and I must make up my mind to sacrifice a year’s business for the fun I’ve had with the measles. The trip fromhere in the dead of winter would be a tough one for the strongest of men, for it must be all of two thousand miles. It will easily take me the rest of the winter to regain strength enough to go on with the boat in the spring, so there’s no use thinking of that trip now. I’ll manage to send you boys out somehow next summer, which is the nearest I can come to keeping my contract with you. In the meantime, while I am sorry for your disappointment, I am very glad of your company and services.”
“You don’t think, then, that it would be possible for us to go out this winter by way of Forty Mile and the coast and make our way to the Sound, or even to San Francisco, and order your goods for you?” suggested Phil, in whose mind this wild scheme had suddenly assumed shape.
“You two inexperienced boys!” exclaimed the captain, amazed at the audacity of the proposition. “Certainly not. Why, I don’t believe either of you knows how to use snow-shoes, or to drive a team of dogs, or has the least idea of what fifty below zero means.”
“I think I know,” said Serge.
“Which?”
“All of those things,” replied the young Russo-American.
“You know more than I do, then, or ever expect to, for I have never driven a dog-team. As for Phil here, I am certain that he knows nothing about any one of the three.”
“I believe I could learn,” said the boy from New London, “and I know I’d be glad of the chance.”
“Well, you can study those things right here, and while you are learning what fifty below zero means you’ll be glad enough to have a well-warmed house near by in which to study the results of your lesson. You’ll find plenty to occupy your time in this immediatevicinity for the next few months. So don’t think any more of the crazy scheme you have just proposed, for I can’t possibly give my consent to it. If I should thus lose sight of you I should spend the rest of my days in mortal terror of meeting Mr. John Ryder and having him demand to know what I had done with his boy. Now I shall have to ask you to leave me for a while, as I am too tired to talk any more.”
As soon as the boys were outside Phil asked, “How do you drive dogs, Serge? Do you have lines to each one, or only to the leader?”
“You don’t drive them with lines at all,” laughed the other. “Nor do you go near them. You sometimes run beside the sledge, but generally behind it, so as to push on the handle-bar over obstructions, or to hang on and hold back in going down steep places. From there you talk to the dogs, and encourage them with a whip of walrus-hide or seal-skin that has a handle about sixteen inches long and a lash of about eighteen feet. To produce the slightest effect on your team you must be able to crack that lash with a report like a pistol-shot in either ear of any dog, or to fleck any one of them on any designated part of the body. You must also learn the language that your dogs are accustomed to, for they will pay no attention to any other.”
“And are snow-shoes a necessity?”
“Certainly they are, for without them you would often sink out of sight in drifts, while even in soft snow of moderate depth they are indispensable.”
“Well,” sighed Phil, “it seems as though one had to learn a great deal before he can travel far in this country; but I suppose if others have, I can. So let’s go and borrow a pair of snow-shoes and have a lesson at once. I suppose I might as well begin the Eskimo whip-practice and dog-language, too; for with such along journey ahead of us we mustn’t waste any more time than is absolutely necessary on preliminaries.”
“What long journey?” asked Serge.
“Our journey up the river to Forty Mile, and so on to Chilkat, of course. You didn’t imagine we were going to loaf here all winter, did you?”
“But the captain won’t give his consent.”
“Oh, we’ll manage that. Besides, we’ve got to get to Sitka some time, you know, or our parents will be getting anxious about us.”