CHAPTER XXIX
WAITING
The days following my arrival at St. Michael’s were busy ones for me. My immediate problem was to see what ships were available to make the voyage to Wrangell Island when navigation opened. Not until midsummer would conditions be right, and even then, as we had found in theKarluk, the time of open water was likely to be brief and might be cut short at any moment. I received many messages—from my family in Newfoundland, from my friends in Boston and elsewhere, from the press and from the authorities in Ottawa. I even had a telegram from the advertising department of an enterprising American periodical: “Please wire our expense permission to use your picture smoking pipe for tobacco advertisement. What brand do you smoke?”
From Ottawa I received a message expressing the relief of the authorities at news of theKarluk—which, I found, had been generally given up for lost, with all on board—and asking for advice and details regarding arrangements for the rescue of the men and the time when ice conditions wouldallow their being taken off the island. To this inquiry I replied:
St. Michael’s, Alaska,May 30, 1914.Hon. G. J. Desbarats,Naval Service, Ottawa, Canada.Russian ice-breakersTaimirandVaigatchsoon make annual exploring trip north coast Siberia. Strongly advise you try arrange Russian Government these vessels relieve men. Vessels wintered Vladivostock but may have already left for north. Failing this arrangement another Russian ice-breakerNadjeshnylying idle Vladivostock might be obtained. Another chance United States revenue cutterBearnow in Bering Sea. Possible arrangements United States Government. IfBeargoes should seek convoy Russian ice-breakers. No other available vessels these waters. My opinion July or early August before ice breaks up around Wrangell though seasons differ. Plenty bird other animal life island good Eskimo hunter should not suffer food. I want go relief ships. Russian ships have wireless can get in touch with them if already at sea.Bartlett, Captain.
St. Michael’s, Alaska,May 30, 1914.Hon. G. J. Desbarats,Naval Service, Ottawa, Canada.
Russian ice-breakersTaimirandVaigatchsoon make annual exploring trip north coast Siberia. Strongly advise you try arrange Russian Government these vessels relieve men. Vessels wintered Vladivostock but may have already left for north. Failing this arrangement another Russian ice-breakerNadjeshnylying idle Vladivostock might be obtained. Another chance United States revenue cutterBearnow in Bering Sea. Possible arrangements United States Government. IfBeargoes should seek convoy Russian ice-breakers. No other available vessels these waters. My opinion July or early August before ice breaks up around Wrangell though seasons differ. Plenty bird other animal life island good Eskimo hunter should not suffer food. I want go relief ships. Russian ships have wireless can get in touch with them if already at sea.
Bartlett, Captain.
TheBear, as I have mentioned before, had been one of the ships to rescue the survivors of the Greely expedition thirty years before. I had never made a trip in her but I knew what kind of ship she was. Built in Scotland in the seventies for the Newfoundland seal-fisheries, she was considered a crack sealer for that period and made many successful voyages. In 1883 the United States Governmentwas fitting out an expedition under Commander Schley to go to the Arctic to relieve Greely and his men. TheBearand theThetiswere all ready to leave St. John’s for their sealing trips, with their crews and outfits all arranged for. They were just the ships for the purpose and the United States Government bought them, paying, besides a liberal price for the vessels themselves, the amount of money that would have been shared by their officers and men if they had made good sealing trips. Many people, I have discovered, have supposed that the ships were given by England; what led to this supposition was the fact that Queen Victoria gave the United States theAlert, which, with the Nares Expedition, had spent the winter of 1875-6 at Floe-Berg Beach, Grant Land, somewhat south of our winter quarters at Cape Sheridan in theRooseveltin the winters of 1905-6 and 1908-9. Will Norman, a relative of mine, from my own town of Brigus, Newfoundland, went as ice-pilot of theThetis, on her voyage for the Greely survivors, and Captain Ash, from Trinity Bay, Newfoundland, who afterwards for many years was master of the Red Cross boats, plying between St. John’s and New York, was ice-pilot of theBear. With the quality of the ship in mind, and her past record, to say nothing of her present work in Alaskan waters, I felt no doubt that theBearwouldget through to Wrangell Island if any ship could do so. I had been told, too, that her master, Captain Cochran, was not afraid to put her in the ice, for he had served under that fearless and true-hearted man, the late Captain Jarvis. On the whole, it seemed to me that it would be a matter of singular interest for theBearto rescue theKarluksurvivors as she had rescued the Greely party thirty years before, on the other side of the continent.
The Russian ships,TaimirandVaigatch, also, had fine records. I have already mentioned the success of Captain Vilkitski in theTaimirin discovering Nicholas II Land in 1913. I knew that both vessels were similar to the steel ships used in the Newfoundland seal-fisheries and that they were able craft, equipped with powerful engines.
During my stay in St. Michael’s I was fortunate in having the skilful treatment of Doctor Fernbaugh, the government surgeon, so that I soon got around again. He was very good to me, making me feel at home and treating me like a brother. The boys at the wireless station were kind enough to give me the back files to read, so that I could get an idea of what had been happening in the world. The agents of the Northern Commercial Company, too, were most hospitable and treated me as one of their own.
When I first reached St. Michael’s, theBear,coming up from San Francisco, was about due in Nome, to bring the mail and take up her regular summer work, the first ship from the “outside” to reach Nome that year. On account of the ice around Nome and the delay of the mail-boatVictoriafrom Seattle, which ordinarily would have brought the mail from Nome to St. Michael’s, theBearcame in to St. Michael’s and landed the mail there. I went on board and Captain Cochran and his officers talked over the plight of the men on Wrangell Island with me and expressed a desire to go to the island and rescue the men. At this time they had not received instructions from Washington regarding the trip, but not long afterwards, while they were on their way over to the Siberian coast, their orders came by wireless to go to the island and to take me with them. It was while theBearwas at St. Michael’s that I first made the acquaintance of Lord William Percy, the son of the Duke of Northumberland. He was making a summer cruise in theBearto study the ducks of Alaskan waters. He was a master of his subject. My first meeting with him was down in the ’tween-decks of theBear, in a corner among boxes and barrels, surrounded by various kinds of knives, scissors and the other gear necessary to mount birds. He gave me welcome messages from friends of mine whom he had met in Boston and New York.Later on I was with him on many of his ornithological expeditions and learned a good deal about ducks from him. He could tell at a glance the sex and species of a bird; to the average man, even to many a fairly experienced hunter, a duck is a duck. On theBearI found another ornithologist, an enthusiast named Hershey, who left us later on and went over to the mouth of the Yukon.
The latter part of June I went over to Nome to wait for theBear. I was feeling better all the time, and looked forward to being on my way to Wrangell Island before many weeks.
At Nome I was the guest of Mr. Japhet Linderberg, mine-owner and operator, who in many ways might be called the Cecil Rhodes of Alaska. There was no limit to his kindness and generosity to me. Though he has made a fortune in gold-mining he works as hard as ever and attends personally to a vast number of details. The forty-two-mile ditch-line that conveys water to his sluices is the result of an idea of his own and he still gives it his personal attention, going over it frequently to see that everything is all right. The season is short in Nome and the expense of mining is great; whatever is to be done must be done between the middle of June and the middle of September, and without water very little could be done at all.
On several of his inspection-trips over the line I had the pleasure of accompanying him. On one occasion we were joined by Major MacManus, with whom I had come over by motor-boat from St. Michael’s; the major was on an inspection tour among the army posts, a typical soldier of the very best type, alert, vigorous and a great companion. I believe he could ride a horse forever without getting tired. On this occasion he rode a horse belonging to Mr. Linderberg, who rode his own favorite mount, while I rode a horse from the army post. It was a typical northern summer day, with bright sunshine and not a breath of air stirring. The slopes of the distant mountains were green, and their jagged peaks, with crowns of perpetual snow, stood out brilliantly against the clear, blue sky, while in the distance was the blue haze that I have seen so many times in the mountains of New England in the early fall before the leaves begin to turn. As we were riding along we came to a bend and Mr. Linderberg got off his horse to see how deep the water was at this particular place. My saddle-girths were slack, so, while we were waiting for Mr. Linderberg to complete his calculations, I dismounted and began to tighten them. I had my pipe with me, so I filled it and lighted up. While I was doingthis the others started on their way; I finished lighting my pipe, mounted my horse and started after them.
There were many turns in the path and as they were trotting along I soon lost sight of them. I was enjoying myself, however, and let my horse walk along at his leisure, while I let my eyes wander gratefully over the scene before me; no sound was to be heard but the singing of the birds. I just gave the horse his head and sat or lolled in the saddle, smoking and day-dreaming.
I was rudely recalled from dreamland by something altogether realistic, a wheelbarrow which was turned bottom-up on the path. The horse saw it before I did, evidently, and was so violently prejudiced against it that he tried at once to avoid it, without considering whether I disliked wheelbarrows or not, for the first thing I knew I was in the icy waters of the ditch, which at that point was six or eight feet deep. My cap floated away at once, but I kept my pipe in my mouth and when I came to the surface still had it.
I was soon out of the water, of course, and then was seized with an uncontrollable fit of laughter. I just stood and laughed and laughed and laughed again. The horse ran only a short distance and then stopped and waited for me. I took off my clothes and wrung them out; when I put them onagain, remounted and started along the path, I felt quite warm and dry before long, at least on the left side where the sunshine pelted down. I did not hurry the horse but let him walk along slowly until, by the time I came up with the others, I looked dry enough on my port side.
The major heard me laughing as I came near them and wondered quite naturally what was the matter with me to be so uncontrollably mirthful, but I kept my right side carefully turned away from them and they were none the wiser. Again and again, as we rode along, I would go off into a fit of laughter until finally, when we dismounted at the house of one of the men who looked after the ditch-line, I took pity on their curiosity and told them what had happened to me.
It was now about midnight and the sun had just set behind the mountain peaks so Mr. Linderberg said that we would do a little trout-fishing. We started out and I was eager to see what luck we should have but in a very short time I completely lost interest in the sport, the mosquitoes were swarming about us in such clouds. They were large, well-built and utterly unterrified by any word or act on my part, though I am not conscious of omitting any, and the Recording Angel was busy for a short time. It was only for a short time, however, for, though my companions were apparentlyuntroubled and even took a curious kind of pleasure in my struggles, I was glad to acknowledge myself beaten by the far-famed Alaska mosquito. I was literally a sight, my face, neck and hands red and swollen the next morning, whereas the major and my host showed no evidences that there had been any mosquitoes in their neighborhood.
In the mountainous country near Nome there are often sudden showers, accompanied by very high winds, so whenever we were out riding we always carried our oilskins strapped behind our saddles. On one of our rides we saw a storm coming up but hoped that it would pass us by; the tail-end of it struck us, however, with a deluge of rain and a high wind. I had not bothered to get off my horse to put on my coat and when the storm was upon us I unloosed the coat from behind my saddle and started to put it on. Just as I got my arms in the sleeves the wind took it and whirled it out into a kind of balloon. This frightened the horse and he turned suddenly around and started for the water. Then he as suddenly changed his mind and tore madly down over the outside edge of the embankment while my arms were seesawing back and forth as I tried to get them through the coatsleeves. After a while I managed to get one arm out, holdingon by gripping my knees to the horse’s body, and as the horse started for some low trees I slid off without a scratch, though I did not deserve any such luck. The others came up very much disturbed, for they were sure that I would fall off among the boulders and be killed.
The time that I spent at Nome, though I was naturally very anxious for the moment to come when we should be on our way to get the men on the island, was made to pass pleasantly by the many good friends whom I made there. I lived at the Golden Gate Hotel but took my meals at the Log Cabin Club. The club had a Japanese chef named Charlie, who was really a wonder; one dined as well there as at any good hotel in San Francisco. The club is the great meeting-place in Nome and many were the lively political discussions we had there.
I could fill a book with descriptions of the interesting people I met in Nome. There was Doctor Neuman, a great student of the Alaskan Eskimo, and the author of important books about them, and more than that a man who has done them a great deal of good and is greatly beloved by them. There was Jim Swartzwell, the proprietor of the Golden Gate Hotel, a typical, open-hearted, Alaskan sour-dough; no man or woman ever came tohim for assistance and went away empty-handed. I saw the house where Rex Beach lived in Nome and met the originals of many of the characters in his stories, who were some of them story-books in themselves.