IN SITKA TOWN.
The long-beaked and wonderfully carved Chilkat canoe was taken on the
_Phoca_'s deck, the anchor was weighed, and, with the trim cutter headed
southward, the last stage of the adventurous journey, pursued amid such
strange vicissitudes, was begun. As the ship sped swiftly past the
overhanging ice-fields of Davidson Glacier, out of Chilkat Inlet into
the broad mountain-walled waters of Lynn Canal, and down that
thoroughfare into Chatham Strait, Captain Matthews listened with
absorbed interest to Phil's account of the remarkable adventures that he
and Serge had encountered from the time he had last seen them at the
Pribyloff islands down to the present moment.
"Well," said he, when the recital was finished, "I've done a good bit of
knocking about in queer places during thirty years of going to sea, and
had some experiences, but my life has been tame and monotonous compared
with the one you have led for the past year. Why, lad, if an account of
what you have gone through in attempting to take a quiet little trip
from New London to Sitka was written out and printed in a book, people
wouldn't believe it was true. They'd shake their heads and say it was
all made up, which only goes to prove, what I never believed before,
that truth is sometimes stranger than fiction, after all."
"Yes," replied Phil; "and the strangest part of it all is the way that
fur-seal's tooth has followed us and exerted its influence in our behalf
from the beginning to the very end. Why, sir, if it hadn't been for that
tooth you wouldn't have come to Chilkat, and we shouldn't be in the
happy position we are at this very moment."
"You don't mean to say," cried Captain Matthews, "that it turned up
again after your father lost it?"
"Oh yes, sir, and it's been with us, off and on, all the time."
"Then at last I can have the pleasure of showing it to my daughter.
Would you mind letting me have it for a few minutes?"
"Unfortunately, sir--"
"Now don't tell me that you have gone and lost it again."
"Not exactly lost it," replied Phil. "At the same time, I don't know
precisely where it is nor what has become of it, only it is somewhere
back in Klukwan, where it originally came from, and I have every reason
to believe that it is in possession of the principal Chilkat Shaman."
"I declare that is too bad!" exclaimed the Captain. "If I had known that
sooner I believe I should have kept right on and shelled the village
until they gave me the tooth, so strong is my desire to get hold of it."
"And so secured to yourself the ill luck of him who steals it," laughed
Phil.
That afternoon the _Phoca_ turned sharply to the right, and began to
thread the swift-rushing and rock-strewn waters of Peril Strait, the
narrow channel that washes the northern end of Baranoff Island, on which
Sitka is situated. Now Serge stood on the bridge beside his friend, so
nervous with excitement that he could hardly speak. Every roaring tide
rip and swirling eddy of those waters, every rock with its streamers of
brown kelp, every beach and wooded point were like familiar faces to the
young Russo-American, for just beyond them lay his home, that dear home
from which he had been more than three years absent.
Suddenly he clutched Phil's arm, and pointed to a lofty snow-crowned
peak looming high above the forest and bathed in rosy sunlight. "There's
Mount Edgecumbe!" he cried; and a few minutes afterward, "There's
Verstoroi." Phil felt the nervous fingers tremble as they gripped his
arm; and when, a little later the cutter swept from a narrow passage
into an island-studded bay, he could hardly hear the hoarse whisper of:
"There, Phil! There's Sitka! Dear, beautiful Sitka!"
And Phil was nearly as excited as Serge to think that, after twelve
months of ceaseless wanderings, the goal for which he had set forth was
at last reached.
The _Phoca_ had hardly dropped anchor before another ship appeared,
entering the bay from the same direction.
"The mail-steamer from Puget Sound," announced Captain Matthews.
This boat brought but few passengers, for the season was yet too early
for tourists; but on her upper deck stood a gentleman and a lady, the
former of whom was pointing out objects of interest almost as eagerly as
Serge had done a short time before.
"It is lovely," said his companion, enthusiastically, "but it seems
perfectly incredible that I should actually be here, and that this is
the place for which our Phil set out with such high hopes a year ago. Do
you realize, John, that it is just one year ago to-day since he left New
London? Oh, if we only knew where the dear boy was at this minute! And
to think that I should have got here before him!"
"Now he will probably never get here," replied Mr. Ryder. "For, on
account of that California offer, I shall be obliged to return directly
to San Francisco from St. Michaels without even a chance of going up the
Yukon, which I know will be a great disappointment to Phil. But look
there, Ruth. You have been wanting to see a canoe-load of Indians, and
here comes as typical a one as I ever saw. A perfect specimen of an
Alaskan dugout, natives in full winter costume, Eskimo dogs, and a
sledge."
"And, oh!" cried Miss Ruth, "there is a tiny bit of a child, all in
furs, just like its father. See? Nestled among the dogs, with a pair of
wee snow-shoes on his back too? Isn't he a darling? How I should love to
hug him! Oh, John, we must find them when we get ashore; for that child
is the very cutest thing I have seen in all Alaska:"
By this time the steamer was made fast, and the passengers were already
going ashore. When Mr. Ryder and his sister gained the wharf they were
surprised to see that the canoe in which they were interested had come
to the landing-stage, where its occupants were already disembarking.
The next moment she uttered a shriek of horror, for one of them had
thrown his arms around her neck and kissed her.
[Illustration: "AUNT RUTH, YOU'RE A BRICK! A PERFECT BRICK!"]
"Aunt Ruth, you're a brick! a perfect brick!" he cried. "To think of you
coming away out here to see me!" Then turning to Mr. Ryder, and
embracing that bewildered gentleman in his furry arms, the excited boy
exclaimed: "And pop! You dear old pop! If you only knew how distressed I
have been about you. If you hadn't turned up, just as you have, I should
have dropped everything and gone in search of you."
"Oh, Phil! How could you?" gasped Aunt Ruth. "You frightened me almost
to death, and have crushed me all out of shape. You are a regular
polar-bear in all those furs and things. What do you mean, sir? Oh you
dear, dear boy!" At this point Miss Ruth's feelings so completely
overcame her that she sank down on a convenient log and burst into
hysterical weeping.
"There, you young scamp!" cried Mr. Ryder, whose own eyes were full of
joyful tears at that moment. "See what you have done! Aren't you ashamed
of yourself, sir?"
"Yes, pop, awfully. But I've got something that will cheer her up and
amuse her. And here's Serge and-- No he isn't, either. What has become
of Serge? Oh, I suppose he has gone home. Don't see why he needs to be
in such a hurry, though. No matter; here's Jalap Coombs. You remember
Jalap, father? And here, Aunt Ruth, is the curio I promised to bring
you. Look out; it's alive!"
With this the crazy lad snatched Nel-te from the arms of Jalap Coombs,
who had just brought him up the steps, and laid him in Miss Ruth's lap,
saying, "He's a little orphan kid I found in the wilderness, and adopted
for you to love."
Miss Ruth gave such a start as the small bundle of fur was so
unexpectedly thrust at her that poor Nel-te rolled to the ground. From
there he lifted such a pitifully frightened little face, with such
tear-filled eyes and quivering lip, that Miss Ruth snatched him up and
hugged him. Then she kissed and petted him to such an extent that by the
time he was again smiling he had won a place in her loving heart second
only to that occupied by Phil himself.
With this journey's end also came the partings that always form so sad a
feature of all journeys' ends. Even the three dogs that had travelled
together for so long were separated, Musky being given to Serge, Luvtuk
to May Matthews, to become the pet of the _Phoca_'s crew, and big Amook
going with Phil, Aunt Ruth, Nel-te, the sledge, the snow-shoes, and the
beautiful white thick-furred skin of a mountain goat to distant New
London.
Mr. Ryder and Jalap Coombs accompanied them as far as San Francisco.
Dear old Serge was reluctantly left behind, busily making preparations
to carry out his cherished scheme of returning to Anvik as a teacher.
In San Francisco Mr. Ryder secured for Jalap Coombs the command of a
trading schooner plying between that port and Honolulu. When it was
announced to him that he was at last actually a captain, the honest
fellow's voice trembled with emotion as he answered:
"Mr. Ryder, sir, _and_ Phil, I never did wholly look to be a full-rigged
cap'n, though I've striv and waited for the berth nigh on to forty year.
Now I know that it's just as my old friend Kite Roberson useter say; for
he allers said, old Kite did, 'That them as waits the patientest is
bound to see things happen.'"
THE END.
FOOTNOTES:
[2] Begun in HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE No. 801.
OAKLEIGH.
BY ELLEN DOUGLAS DELAND.