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 enough sunshine 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.
[Illustration: Looking Northward.]
April 22. Saturday.--It is snowing heavily this morning, with a
strong north gale. The doctor 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 people
toiling 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 wrapping or
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.
[Illustration]