OVER THE MOUNTAIN PASS.
[Illustration: CHILKAT INDIAN PACKER.]
By the 6th of June all of our many arrangements for departure were
fully completed, and the next day the party got under way shortly
before 10 o'clock in the forenoon. Mr. Carl Spuhn, the Manager of
the North-west Trading Company, which owned the western cannery in
the Chilkat Inlet, where my party had been disembarked, who had been
indefatigable in his efforts to assist me in procuring Indian packers,
and in many other ways aiding the expedition, now placed at my disposal
the little steam launch of the company, and behind it, tied one to
the other by their towing ropes, was a long string of from twelve
to twenty canoes, each containing from two to four Chilkat Indians,
our prospective packers. Some of the Indians who had selected their
packs carried them in the canoes, but the bulk of the material was
on the decks of the steam-launch "Louise." They disappeared out of
sight in a little while, steaming southward down the Chilkat Inlet,
while with a small party in a row-boat I crossed this channel and
then by a good trail walked over to the Haines Mission, in Chilkoot
Inlet, presided over by Mr. Eugene S. Willard and his wife, with a
young lady assistant, Miss Mathews, and maintained by the Presbyterian
Board of Missions as a station among the Chilkat and Chilkoot Indians.
Crossing the "mission trail," as it was called, we often traversed
lanes in the grass, which here was fully five feet high, while, in
whatever direction the eye might look, wild flowers were growing in the
greatest profusion. Dandelions as big as asters, buttercups twice the
usual size, and violets rivaling the products of cultivation in lower
latitudes were visible around. It produced a singular and striking
contrast to raise the eyes from this almost tropical luxuriance and
allow them to rest on the Alpine hills, covered, half way down their
shaggy sides, with snow and glacier ice, and with cold mist condensed
on their crowns. Mosquitoes were too plentiful not to be called a
prominent discomfort, and small gnats did much to mar the otherwise
pleasant stroll. Berries and berry blossoms grew in a profusion and
variety which I have never seen equaled within the same limits in lower
latitudes. A gigantic nettle was met with in uncomfortable profusion
when one attempted to wander from the beaten trail. This nettle has
received the appropriate name of "devil-sticks;" and Mr. Spuhn of the
party told me it was formerly used by the Indian medicine-men as a
prophylactic against witch-craft, applied externally, and with a vigor
that would have done credit to the days of old Salem, a custom which
is still kept up among these Indians. Gardens have been cultivated
upon this narrow peninsula, the only comparatively level track of
considerable size in all south-eastern Alaska, with a success which
speaks well for this part of the territory as far as climate and soil
are concerned, although the terribly rough mountainous character of
nearly all of this part of the country will never admit of any broad
experiments in agriculture. By strolling leisurely along and stopping
long enough to lunch under the great cedar trees, while the mosquitoes
lunched off us, we arrived at the mission on Chilkoot Inlet just in
time to see the little launch in the distance followed by its long
procession of canoes, heading for us and puffing away as if it were
towing the Great Eastern. It had gone down the Chilkat Inlet ten or
twelve miles to the southward, turned around the sharp cape of the
peninsula, Point Seduction, and traveled back northward, parallel to
its old course, some twelve to fifteen miles to where we were waiting
for it, having steamed about twenty-five miles, while we had come
one-fifth the distance to the same point. Here quite a number of
Chilkoot natives and canoes were added to the already large throng;
Mrs. Schwatka, who had accompanied me thus far, was left in the kind
care of the missionary family of Mr. Willard; adieus were waved and we
once more took our northward course up the Chilkoot Inlet.
[Illustration: Part I. Map of the Alaska Exploring Expedition of 1883.
Compiled and drawn by Mr. C. A. Homan, Topographical Assistant.]
After four or five miles the main inlet bears off to the westward, but
a much narrower one still points constantly to the north star, and up
the latter we continued to steam. It is called the Dayay Inlet and
gives us about ten miles of "straight-away course" before coming to the
mouth of the river of the same name. This Dayay Inlet is of the same
general character as the inland passages in this part of Alaska, of
which I have already spoken; a river-like channel between high steep
hills, which are covered with pine, cedar and spruce from the water's
line nearly to the top, and there capped with bare granite crowns that
in gulches and on the summits are covered with snow and glacier ice,
which in melting furnish water for innumerable beautiful cascades and
mountain torrents, many of them dashing from such dizzy precipitous
heights that they are reduced to masses of iridescent spray by the time
they reach the deep green waters of the inlet.
With a score of canoes towing behind, the ropes near the launch kept
parting so often that we were considerably delayed, and as the Indians
were seldom in any great hurry about repairing the damages, and treated
it in a most hilarious manner as something of a joke on the launch, the
master of that craft, when the rope had parted near the central canoe
for about the twentieth time, finally bore on without them, leaving the
delinquents to get along as best they could, there being about five
miles more to make. Fortunately just then a fair southern breeze sprang
up, so that most of the tardy canoes soon displayed canvas, and those
that could not, hastily improvised a blanket, a pea-jacket, or even a
a broad-shouldered pair of pantaloons, to aid their progress, for the
Indian in all sections of the country is much more ingenious than one
is apt to suppose, especially if his object be to save manual labor.
The mouth of the Dayay river being reached about six in the afternoon,
it was found to consist of a series of low swampy mud flats and a very
miry delta. Here it is necessary to ascend the swift river at least a
mile to find a site that is even half suitable for a camp. During the
time when the greatest sediment is brought down by the swift muddy
stream, _i.e._, during the spring freshets and summer high water, the
winds are usually from the south, and blow with considerable force,
which fact accounts for the presence of soft oozy deposits of great
extent so near the mouth of the stream. Through this shallow water the
canoes carried our effects. The river once reached the canoes proceeded
up the stream to camp, the launch whistled us adieu, and as she faded
from sight, the last link that bound us to civilization was snapped,
and our explorations commenced. The distance from the Haines' Mission
to the mouth of the Dayay where we disembarked was sixteen miles.
At this camp No. 2, we found a small camp of wandering _Tahk-heesh_
Indians, or as they are locally called by the few whites of the
country, the _Sticks_, a peaceful tribe whose home is over the Alaskan
coast range of mountains and along the headwaters of the great Yukon,
the very part of the very stream we desired to explore. It has only
been within the last few years that these Tahk-heesh Indians have
been allowed to cross over the mountains into the Chilkat country
for purposes of trade, the Chilkats and Chilkoots united having from
time immemorial completely monopolized the profitable commerce of the
interior fur trade, forbidding ingress to the whites and denying egress
to the Indians of the interior. From the former they bought their
trading goods and trinkets, and making them into convenient bundles
or parcels of about one hundred pounds each, they carried them on
their backs across the snow and glacier crowned mountains, exchanging
them for furs with the tribes of the interior for many hundreds of
miles around. These furs were again lashed in packs and carried back
over the same perilous paths to the coffers of the white traders, and
although they realized but a small fractional portion of their value,
yet prices were large in comparison with the trifling cost to the
venders. When the trade was at its best many years ago, these trips
were often made twice a year during the spring and summer, and so
great was the commerce in those days, that no less than from eight to
ten tons of trading material found its way into the interior by way
of these Alpine passes, and was exchanged for its equivalent in furs.
As a consequence, the Chilkat nation is the richest tribe of Indians
in the great North-west. Their chief, Shot-rich, alone is worth about
ten or twelve thousand dollars in blankets, their standard of wealth,
and others in proportion, according to their energy in the trade.
Shot-rich has three large native houses at Klukwan, the main Chilkat
town, two of which are filled with blankets worth from two to four
dollars apiece. The trail on which we were now plodding along is known
among the Indians as the Chilkoot trail to the interior, and takes
from two to four days, packing their goods on their backs, until the
headwaters of the Yukon are reached. It was monopolized solely by the
Chilkoots, who had even gone so far as to forbid the Chilkats, almost
brothers in blood, from using it, so that the latter were forced to
take a longer and far more laborious route. This route of the Chilkats
led them up the Chilkat River to near its head, where a long mountain
trail that gave them a journey of a week or ten days, packing on their
backs, brought them to a tributary of the Yukon, by means of which the
interior was gained. Once on this tributary no serious rapids or other
impediments were in their line of travel, while the Yukon, with its
shorter trail, had many such obstacles. The great Hudson Bay Company
with its well-known indomitable courage, attempted as early as 1850 to
tap this rich trading district monopolized by the Chilkat Indians, and
Fort Selkirk was established at the junction of the Yukon and Pelly,
but so far away from their main base of supplies on Hudson's Bay, that
it is said it took them a couple of years to reach it with trading
effects. The Indians knew of but one method of competition in business.
They went into no intricate inventories for reducing prices of stock,
nor did they put bigger advertisements or superior inducements before
their customers. They simply organized a war party, rapidly descended
the main Yukon for about five hundred miles, burned the buildings and
appropriated the goods.
As the Tahk-heesh or _Sticks_ were allowed to come abroad so the white
men were allowed and, in fact, induced to enter, for the coast Indians
found ample compensation in carrying the white men's goods over the
trail of about thirty miles at a rate which brought them from ten to
twelve dollars per pack of a hundred pounds in weight; and it was my
intention to take advantage of this opportunity to reach the head of
the river, and then fight my way down it, rather than against its well
known rapid current, of which I had heard so much from the accounts
of explorers on its lower waters. When it was known, however, that I
expected to do my explorations on a raft, the idea was laughed at by
the few white men of the country, as evincing the extreme of ignorance,
and the Indians seemed to be but little behind them in ridicule of the
plan. The latter emphatically affirmed that a hundred and fifty or two
hundred miles of lakes stretched before us, and what, they argued, can
be more helpless than a raft on a still lake? Eight or ten miles of
boiling rapids occurred at various points in the course of the stream,
and these would tear any raft into a shapeless wreck, while it would
be hard to find Indians to portage my numerous effects around them.
The unwieldiness of a great raft--no small one would serve for us and
our stores--in a swift current was constantly pointed out, and I must
confess I felt a little discouraged myself when I summed up all these
reasons. Why this or the Chilkat route was not attempted long ago
by some explorer, who might thereby have traversed the entire river
in a single summer, instead of combating its swift current from its
mouth, seems singular in the light of the above facts, and I imagine
the only explanation is that men who would place sufficient reliance
in Indian reports to insert in their maps the gross inaccuracies that
we afterward detected, would rely also upon the Indian reports that
from time immemorial have pronounced this part of the river to be
unnavigable even for canoes, except for short stretches, and as filled
with rapids, cañons, whirlpools and cascades.
After camping that night on the Dayay, bundles were all assorted
and assigned. The packs varied from thirty-six to a hundred and
thirty-seven pounds in weight, the men generally carrying a hundred
pounds and the boys according to their age and strength. The "Sticks"
or Tahk-heesh Indians camped near us were hunting black bear, which
were said to be abundant in this locality, an assertion which seemed
to be verified by the large number of tracks we saw in the valley.
From this band of Indians we completed our number of packers, a
circumstance which irritated the others greatly, for the Chilkats seem
to regard the _Sticks_ almost in the light of slaves. Here I also
secured a stout, sturdy fellow, at half rates, merely to go along in
case of sickness among my numerous retinue, in which event he would be
put on full wages. His onerous duties consisted in carrying the guidon,
or expedition flag, weighing four or five pounds, and he improvised
himself into a ferry for the white men at the numerous fords which the
tortuous Dayay River presented as we ascended. As every one gave him
a nickel or dime at each ford, and the guidon staff was simply a most
convenient alpenstock, he was the envy of all the others as he slowly
but surely amassed his gains; not so slowly either, for the river made
so many windings from one side of its high walled valley to the other,
that his receipts rivaled a western railroad in the matter of mileage,
but the locomotion was scarcely as comfortable as railroad travel.
[Illustration: METHODS OF TRACKING A CANOE UP A RAPID.]
During the still, quiet evening we could hear many grouse hooting in
the spruce woods of the hillsides, this time of day seeming to be their
favorite hour for concerts. The weather on this, the first day of our
trip, was splendid, with a light southern wind that went down with the
sun and gave us a few mist-like sprinkles of rain, serving to cool
the air and make slumber after our fatigue doubly agreeable. The head
of canoe navigation on the Dayay river, where it terminates abruptly
in a huge boiling cascade, is ten miles from the mouth of the stream,
although fully fifteen are traveled by the canoemen in ascending its
tortuous course, which is accomplished by the usual Indian method of
"tracking," with ropes and poles from the bank of the river. I observed
that they "tracked" their canoes against the current in two ways, each
method requiring two men to one canoe. The diagrams given will show
these methods; in No. 1, an Indian pulls the canoe with a rope, while
a companion just in his rear and following in his steps keeps the head
of the canoe in the stream, with a long pole, at just such distance as
he may desire according to the obstacles that are presented. If the
water from the bank for some distance out, say twelve or fifteen feet,
is clear of all obstacles, his companion will fall to the rear as far
as his pole will allow and assist the ropeman by pushing up stream, but
in shallow, swift places he has all he can do to regulate the canoe's
course through the projecting stones, and the burden of the draft falls
on the ropeman. In the other mode both the men use poles and all the
motive power is furnished by pushing. The advantage over the first
is that in "boiling" water full of stones, the bowman may steer his
end clear of all of these, only to have the seething waters throw the
stern against a sharp corner of a rock and tear a hole in that part, an
accident which can only be avoided by placing a pole-man at the stern.
It is readily apparent, however, that there is much more power expended
in this method of making headway against the current than in the other.
Some few of the Indians judiciously vary the two methods to suit the
circumstances. On long stretches of only moderately swift water the
tired trackers would take turns in resting in the canoe, using a paddle
to hold the bow out from the shore. The current of the Dayay is very
swift, and two days' "tracking" is often required to traverse the
navigable part of the stream. Every few hundred yards or so the river
needs to be crossed, wherever the timber on the banks is dense, or
where the circuitous river cuts deep into the high hillsides that form
the boundaries of its narrow valley. In these crossings from fifty to a
hundred yards would often be lost. The Indians seemed to make no effort
whatever to stem the swift current in crossing, but pointed the canoe
straight across for the other bank and paddled away as if dear life
depended on the result.
[Illustration: CANOEING UP THE DAYAY.]
The march of the 8th to Camp 3, brought us within a half mile or
a mile of the head of canoe navigation on the river, and here the
Indians desired to camp, as at that particular spot there is no dry
wood with which to cook their meals; although all they had to cook was
the little flour that I had issued, the salmon being dried and eaten
without further preparation. The Dayay Valley is well wooded in its
bottom with poplar and several varieties of willow, and where these
small forests did not exist were endless ridges of sand, gravel and
even huge bowlders cutting across each other at all angles, evidently
the work of water, assisted at times by the more powerful agency of
moving or stranded ice. All day we had been crossing bear tracks of
different ages, and after camping some of the white men paddled across
the river (here thirty-five or forty yards wide) to take a stroll up
the valley; and while returning a large black bear was seen perched
on a conspicuous granite ridge of the western mountain wall, probably
four hundred yards away and at an angle of twenty degrees above our
position in the river bottom. A member of the party got two shots at
him, but he disappeared in the dense underbrush, evidently afraid
that the sportsman might aim at something else and so hit him. Dr.
Wilson and Mr. Homan fished with bait and flies for a long distance
up and down the different channels of the river, but could not get a
single "rise" or "bite," although the Indians catch mountain trout in
their peculiar fish-weirs, having offered us that very day a number
thus captured. Like all streams rising in glacier bearing lands of
calcareous structure, its waters are very white and chalky, which may
account for the apparent reluctance of the fish to rise to a fly. The
pretty waterfalls on the sides of the mountains still continued and the
glaciers of the summits became more numerous and strongly marked, and
descended nearer to the bed of the stream.
I could not but observe the peculiar manifestations of surprise
characteristic of the Chilkats. Whenever one uttered a shout over
some trifle, such as a comrade's slipping on a slimy stone into the
water, or tumbling over the root of a log, or any mishap, comical or
otherwise, every one within hearing, from two to two hundred, would
immediately chime in, and such a cry would ensue as to strike us with
astonishment. This may be repeated several times in a minute, and the
abruptness with which it would begin and end, so that not a single
distinct voice can be heard at either beginning or ending, reminds
one somewhat of a gang of coyotes howling around a frontier camp or
the bayings of Indian dogs on moonlight serenades, from which one
would be strongly tempted to believe they had borrowed it. Withal they
are a most happy, merry-hearted and jovial race, laughing hilariously
at every thing with the least shadow of comicality about it, and
"guying" every trifling mishap of a companion in which the sufferer
is expected to join, just as the man who chases his hat in a muddy
street on a windy day must laugh with the crowd. Such characteristics
of good nature are generally supposed to be accompanied by a generous
disposition, especially as toward men of the same blood, but I was
compelled to notice an almost cruel piece of selfishness which they
exhibited in one point, and which told strongly against any such theory
as applied to Indians, or at least this particular band of them. When
we got to the mouth of the Dayay river, many of the packers had no
canoes in which to track their bundles or packs to the head of canoe
navigation, and their companions who owned such craft flatly and
decisively refused to take their packs, although, as far as I could
see, it would have caused them no inconvenience whatever. In many cases
this selfishness was the effect of caste, to which I have already
alluded and which with them is carried to an extreme hardly equaled in
the social distinctions of any other savage people. Nor was this the
only conspicuous instance of selfishness displayed. As I have already
said, the Dayay is very tortuous, wide and swift, and therefore has
very few fords, and these at inconvenient intervals for travelers
carrying a hundred pounds apiece on their backs, yet the slight service
of ferrying the packers and their packs across the stream was refused
by the canoemen as rigidly as the other favor, and where the river
cut deep into some high projecting bank of the mountain flanks, these
unfortunate packers would be forced to carry burdens up over some
precipitous mountain spur, or at least to make a long detour in search
of available fords. My readers can rest assured that I congratulated
myself on having taken along a spare packer in the event of sickness
among my numerous throng, for even in such a case I found them as
disobliging and unaccommodating as before, utterly refusing to touch
a sick man's load until he had promised them the lion's share of his
wages and I had ratified the contract.
Every afternoon or evening after getting into camp, no matter how
fatiguing the march had been, as soon as their simple meal was cooked
and consumed, they would gather here and there in little parties for
the purpose of gambling, and oftentimes their orgies would run far
into the small hours of the night. The gambling game which they called
_la-hell_ was the favorite during the trip over the Chilkoot trail,
although I understand that they have others not so complicated. This
game requires an even number of players, generally from four to twelve,
divided into two parties which face each other. These "teams" continue
sitting about two or three feet apart, with their legs drawn up under
them, _à la Turque_, the place selected being usually in sandy ground
under the shade of a grove of poplar or willow trees. Each man lays a
wager with the person directly opposite him, with whom alone he gambles
as far as the gain or loss of his stake is concerned, although such
loss or gain is determined by the success of the team as a whole. In
other words, when a game terminates one team of course is the winner,
but each player wins only the stake put up by his vis-à-vis. A handful
of willow sticks, three or four inches long, and from a dozen to a
score in number, are thrust in the sand or soft earth, between the two
rows of squatting gamblers, and by means of these a sort of running
record or tally of the game is kept. The implements actually employed
in gambling are merely a couple of small bone-bobbins, as shown on page
227, of about the size of a lady's pen-knife, one of which has one or
more bands of black cut around it near its center and is called the
king, the other being pure white. At the commencement of the game, one
of the players picks up the bone-bobbins, changes them rapidly from
one hand to the other, sometimes behind his back, then again under an
apron or hat resting on his lap, during all of which time the whole
assembly are singing in a low measured melody the words, "Oh! oh! oh!
Oh, ker-shoo, ker-shoo!--" which is kept up with their elbows flapping
against their sides and their heads swaying to the tune, until some
player of the opposite row, thinking he is inspired, and singing with
unusual vehemence, suddenly points out the hand of the juggler that,
in his belief, contains "the king." If his guess is correct, his
team picks up one of the willow sticks and places it on their side,
or, if the juggler's team has gained, any one of their sticks must
be replaced in the reserve at the center. If he is wrong then, the
other side tallies one in the same way. The bone "king and queen" are
then handed to an Indian in the other row, and the same performance
repeated, although it may be twice as long, or half as short, as no
native attempts to discern the whereabouts of the "king" until he
feels he has a revelation to that effect, produced by the incantation.
A game will last any where from half an hour to three hours. Whenever
the game is nearly concluded and one party has gained almost all the
willow sticks, or at any other exciting point of the game, they have
methods of "doubling up" on the wagers, by not exchanging the bobbins
but holding both in one hand or leaving one or both on the ground under
a hat or apron, and the guesses are about both and count double, treble
or quadruple, for loss or gain. They wager the caps off their heads,
their shirts off their backs, and with many of them no doubt, their
prospective pay for the trip was all gone before it was half earned.
Men and boys alike entered the contest, and from half a dozen places
at once, in the woods near by, could be heard the everlasting refrain,
the never-ceasing chant of "Oh! oh! oh! Oh! ker-shoo, ker-shoo!" They
used also to improvise hats of birch bark (wherever that tree grew near
the evening camp) with pictures upon them that would prohibit their
passing through the mails. These habits do not indicate any great moral
improvement thus far produced by contact with civilization.
[Illustration: DAYAY VALLEY, LOOKING UP THE NOURSE RIVER VALLEY.
A glimpse of Baird Glacier covered with fog is given. The mountains
holding the glacier being twice as high as the one shown on the left,
their crests, if they had been visible, would not have been shown in
the photograph from which this illustration is made, being above the
line where it is cut off. It is only at night that the fog-banks lift,
when it is too late to take photographs.]
Two miles and a half beyond the head of canoe navigation, the
_Kut-lah-cook-ah_ River of the Chilkats comes in from the west.
This is really larger in volume and width than the Dayay, the two
averaging respectively fifty and forty yards in width by estimation. I
shortened its name, and called it after Professor Nourse of the United
States Naval Observatory. Large glaciers feed its sources by numerous
waterfalls, and its cañon-like bed is very picturesque. Like all such
streams its waters were conspicuously white and milk-like, and the most
diligent fisherman was unrewarded. At the head of the Nourse River
the Indians say there is a very large lake. The mountains that bound
its course on the west are capped by an immense glacier, which might
be traced along their summits for probably ten or twelve miles, and
was then lost in the lowering clouds of their icy crests. These light
fogs are frequent on warm days, when the difference of temperature at
the upper and lower levels is more marked, but they disappear at night
as the temperatures approach each other. This glacier, a glimpse of
which is given on page 73, was named after Professor Baird, of the
Smithsonian Institute at Washington. The march of the 9th of June took
us three miles and a half up the Dayay River, and while resting, about
noon, I was astonished to hear the Indians declare this was their
expected camp for the night, for we had really accomplished so little.
I was much inclined to anticipate that the rest of the journey was
not much worse, and would give a forcible example of the maxim that
"dangers disappear as they are approached." The rough manner in which
my illusions were dispelled will appear further on. Another inducement
to stop at this particular point was found in a small grove of spruce
saplings just across the river, which was so dense that each tree trunk
tapered as regularly as if it had been turned from a lathe. These
they desired for salmon-spears, cutting them on their way over the
trail, and collecting them as they returned, so as to give the poles
a few days to season, thus rendering them lighter for the dextrous
work required. These peculiar kinds of fish-spears are so common over
all the districts of Arctic and sub-Arctic America that I think them
worthy of description. The pole is from eight to twelve feet in length,
extending from P to P, as shown in the figure on this page. Two arms
A A are made of elastic wood, and at their ends they carry incurved
spikes of iron or steel, S S, which act as barbs on a fish-hook.
Another sharpened spike projects from the tip of the pole P, and the
three together make the prongs of the spear or gig. When the fish is
speared the arms A A bend out as the spikes "ride" over its back, and
these insert themselves in its sides, the pole spike penetrating its
back. In the figure there is represented the cross-section of a fish
(its dorsal-fin D) just before the spear strikes. Among the Eskimo of
King William's Land I found the spear-handles made of driftwood thrown
on the beach, the arms A A made of very elastic musk-ox horn, and the
spikes of copper taken from the abandoned ships of Sir John Franklin's
ill-fated expedition. Again at this camp (No. 4), the fishing-tackle of
various kinds was employed vigilantly, but although the water seemed
much clearer there were no results, the doctor advancing the theory
that trout will not rise to a fly in streams where salmon are spawning,
as they then live on the salmon roe to the exclusion of every thing
else.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: A VIEW IN THE DAYAY VALLEY. (FROM CAMP 4.) A finger of
the Saussure Glacier is seen peeping round the mountain, the rest being
covered with fog.]
At this camp I saw the Chilkat boy packers wrestling in a very singular
manner, different from any thing in that branch of athletics with which
I am acquainted. The two wrestlers lie flat on their backs upon the
ground or sand and against each other, but head to foot, or in opposite
directions. Their inner legs, _i.e._, those touching their opponents,
are raised high in the air, carried past each other, and then locked
together at the knee. They then rise to a sitting posture, or as nearly
as possible, and with their nearest arms locked into a firm hold at the
elbows, the contest commences. It evidently requires no mean amount of
strength to get on top of an equal adversary, and the game seems to
demand considerable agility, although the efforts of the contestants,
as they rolled around like two angle worms tied together, appeared more
awkward than graceful.
[Illustration: POSITION OF THE FEET IN WALKING A LOG, AS PRACTICED BY
THE CHILKAT INDIANS.]
Northward from this camp (No. 4), lying between the Nourse and Dayay
Rivers, was the southern terminal spur of a large glacier, whose upper
end was lost in the cold drifting fog that clung to it, and which can
be seen on page 77. I called it the Saussure Glacier, after Professor
Henri de Saussure, of Geneva, Switzerland. The travels in the Dayay
Inlet and up the valley of the river had been reasonably pleasant, but
on the 10th of June our course lay over the rough mountain spurs of the
east side for ten or twelve miles, upon a trail fully equal to forty or
fifty miles over a good road for a day's walking. Short as the march
was in actual measurement, it consumed from 7:30 in the morning until
7:15 in the evening; nearly half the time, however, being occupied
in resting from the extreme fatigue of the journey. In fact, in many
places it was a terrible scramble up and down hill, over huge trunks
and bristling limbs of fallen timber too far apart to leap from one to
the other, while between was a boggy swamp that did not increase the
pleasure of carrying a hundred pounds on one's back. Sometimes we would
sink in almost to our knees, while every now and then this agony was
supplemented by the recurrences of long high ridges of rough bowlders
of trachyte with a splintery fracture. The latter felt like hot iron
under the wet moccasins after walking on them and jumping from one to
the other for awhile. Some of these great ridges of bowlders on the
steep hillsides must have been of quite recent origin, and from the
size of the big rocks, often ten or twelve feet in diameter, I infer
that the force employed must have been enormous, and I could only
account for it on the theory that ice had been an important agent in
the result. So recent were some of the ridges that trees thirty and
forty feet high were embedded in the débris, and where they were not
cut off and crushed by the action of the rocks they were growing as if
nothing had happened, although half the length of their trunks in some
cases was below the tops of the ridges. I hardly thought that any of
the trees could be over forty or fifty years old. Where these ridges
of great bowlders were very wide one would be obliged to follow close
behind some Indian packer acquainted with the trail, which might easily
be lost before re-entering the brush.
That day I noticed that all my Indians, in crossing logs over a stream,
always turned the toes of both feet in the same direction (to the
right), although they kept the body square to the front, or nearly so,
and each foot passed the other at every step, as in ordinary walking.
The advantage to be gained was not obvious to the author; as the
novice, in attempting it, feels much more unsafe than in walking over
the log as usual. Nearing Camp 5, we passed over two or three hundred
yards of snow from three to fifteen feet deep. This day's march of the
10th of June brought us to the head of the Dayay river at a place the
Indians call the "stone-houses." These _stone-houses_, however, are
only a loose mass of huge bowlders piled over each other, projecting
high above the deep snow, and into the cave-like crevices the natives
crawl for protection whenever the snow has buried all other tracts, or
the cold wind from the glaciers is too severe to permit of sleep in
the open. All around us was snow or the clear blue ice of the glacier
fronts, while directly northward, and seemingly impassable, there
loomed up for nearly four thousand feet the precipitous pass through
the mountains, a blank mass of steep white, which we were to essay on
the morrow.
[Illustration: CHASING A MOUNTAIN GOAT IN THE PERRIER PASS.]
Shortly after camping I was told that the Indians had seen a mountain
goat nearly on the summit of the western mountain wall, and I was able
to make out his presence with the aid of field-glasses. The Indians
had detected him with their unaided eyes, in spite of his white coat
being against a background of snow. Had the goat been on the summit of
a mountain in the moon I should not have regarded him as any safer than
where he was, if the Indians were even half as fatigued as I felt, and
they had carried a hundred pounds over the trail and I had not. But the
identity of the goat was not fully established before an Indian, the
only one who carried a gun, an old flintlock, smooth bore, Hudson Bay
musket, made preparations for the chase. He ran across the valley and
soon commenced the ascent of the mountains, in a little while almost
disappearing on the white sides, looking like a fly crawling over the
front of a house. The Indian, a "Stick," finally could be seen above
the mountain goat and would have secured him, but that a little black
cur dog which had started to follow him when he was almost at the
summit, made its appearance on the scene just in time to frighten the
animal and started him running down the mountain side toward the pass,
the "Stick" closely following in pursuit, assisted by the dog. Just
as every one expected to see the goat disappear through the pass, he
wheeled directly around and started straight for the camp, producing
great excitement. Every one grabbed the first gun he could get his
hands on and waited for the animal's approach. A shot from camp sent
him flying up the eastern mountains, which were higher than those of
the west, closely followed almost to the summit by the indefatigable
"Stick," who finally lost him. I thought it showed excellent endurance
for the mountain goat, but the Indian's pluck was beyond all praise,
and as he returned with a jovial shake of the head, as if he met such
disappointments every day, I felt sure that I would not have undertaken
his hunt for all the goat meat in the country, even with starvation at
hand.
On the morning of the next day about five o'clock, we commenced the
toilsome ascent of this coast range pass, called by the Indians Kotusk
Mountains, and by seven o'clock all my long pack train was strung up
the precipitous pass, making one of the prettiest Alpine sights that I
have ever witnessed, and as seen from a distance strangely resembling a
row of bowlders projecting from the snow. Up banks almost perpendicular
they scrambled on their hands and knees, helping themselves by every
projecting rock and clump of juniper and dwarf spruce, not even
refusing to use their teeth on them at the worst places. Along the
steep snow banks and the icy fronts of glaciers steps were cut with
knives, while rough alpenstocks from the valley helped them to maintain
their footing. In some such places the incline was so steep that those
having boxes on their backs cut scratches in the icy crust with the
corners as they passed along, and oftentimes it was possible to steady
one's self by the open palm of the hand resting against the snow. In
some of these places a single mis-step, or the caving in of a foot-hold
would have sent the unfortunate traveler many hundred feet headlong
to certain destruction. Yet not the slightest accident happened, and
about ten o'clock, almost exhausted, we stood on the top of the pass,
enveloped in a cold drifting fog, 4,240 feet above the level of the
sea (a small portion of the party having found a lower crossing at
4,100 feet above sea-level). How these small Indians, not apparently
averaging over one hundred and forty pounds in weight, could carry one
hundred pounds up such a precipitous mountain of ice and snow, seems
marvelous beyond measure. One man carried one hundred and thirty-seven
pounds, while boys from twelve to fourteen carried from fifty to
seventy pounds. I called this the Perrier Pass after Colonel J. Perrier
of the French Geographical Society.
[Illustration: ASCENDING THE PERRIER PASS.] [Illustration: CHILKAT
HUNTING AND PACKING SNOW-SHOES.
The usual thongs are used to fasten them to the feet, but are not shown
in the illustration.]
Once on top of the Pass the trail leads northward and the descent is
very rapid for a few hundred yards to a lake of about a hundred acres
in extent, which was yet frozen over and the ice covered with snow,
although drainage from the slopes had made the snow very slushy. Over
the level tracks of snow many of the Indians wore their snow-shoes,
which in the ascent and steep descent had been lashed to their packs.
These Indians have two kinds of snow-shoes, a very broad pair used
while packing, as with my party, and a narrower and neater kind
employed while hunting. The two kinds are figured below. This small
lake, abruptly walled in, greatly resembled an extinct crater, and such
it may well have been. From this resemblance it received its name of
Crater Lake, a view of which figures as the frontispiece. Here there
was no timber, not even brush, to be seen; while the gullies of the
granite hills, and the valleys deeply covered with snow, gave the
whole scene a decidedly Arctic appearance. I noticed that my Indian
packers, in following a trail on snow, whether it was up hill, on a
level, or even a slight descent, always stepped in each other's tracks,
and hence our large party made a trail that at first glance looked
as if only five or six had passed over; but when going down a steep
descent, especially on soft snow, each one made his own trail, and they
scattered out over many yards in width. I could not but be impressed
with the idea that this was worth considering should it ever be
necessary to estimate their numbers. From the little crater-like lake
at the very head of the Yukon, the trail leads through a valley that
converges to a gorge; and while crossing the snow in this ravine we
could hear the running water gurgling under the snow bridge on which we
were walking. Further down the little valley, as it opened at a point
where these snow-arches were too wide to support their weight, they
had tumbled into the stream, showing in many places abutments of deep
perpendicular snow-banks often twenty to twenty-five feet in height.
Where the river banks were of stone and perpendicular the packers were
forced to pass over the projecting abutments of snow, undermined by
the swift stream. It was hazardous for many to attempt the passage
over the frail structure at the same time. Passing by a few small
picturesque lakes on our left, some still containing floating cakes of
ice, we caught sight of the main lake in the afternoon, and in a few
hours were upon its banks at a point where a beautiful mountain stream
came tumbling in, with enough swift water to necessitate crossing
on a log. Near the Crater Lake a curlew and a swallow were seen,
and a small black bear cub was the only other living thing visible,
although mountain goats were abundant a short distance back in the high
hills. We had gotten into camp quite late in the evening and here the
contracts with our Indian packers expired.
Imagine my surprise, after a fatiguing march of thirteen miles that had
required fourteen hours to accomplish, and was fully equal to forty
or fifty on any good road, at having the majority of my packers, men
and boys, demand payment at once with the view of an immediate return.
Some of them assured me they would make the mouth of the Dayay before
stopping, and would then only stay for a short rest. It should be
remembered that we were so far north and the sun so near his northern
solstice that it was light enough even at midnight, for traveling
purposes, especially on the white snow of the worst portion of the
journey, Perrier Pass. I had no reason to doubt their assurances, and
afterward learned that one of them went through to the mission without
stopping, in spite of a furious gale which was raging on the Dayay and
Chilkoot Inlets.