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[Illustration: cover of The Boy with the U. S. Survey]
[Illustration: THE CHIEF GEOGRAPHER OF THE UNITED STATES, SURVEYING THE
SIERRAS, WITH ASSISTANT TOPOGRAPHER.
_Photograph by U.S.G.S._]
U. S. SERVICE SERIES.
THE BOY WITH THE U. S. SURVEY
BY FRANCIS ROLT-WHEELER
With Thirty-seven Illustrations from Photographs
taken by the U. S. Geological Survey
[Illustration]
BOSTON
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.
Published, August, 1909
COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.
All rights reserved
THE BOY WITH THE U. S. SURVEY
Norwood Press
BERWICK & SMITH CO.
Norwood, Mass.
U. S. A.
To
My Son
ROGER ROLT-WHEELER
PREFACE
Just as manly, courageous, and daring work as has ever been done in the
past still is being done, and adventures as great as the world has
contained before are happening to-day in these United States. The
difference is that while the explorer and adventurer of the past too
often sought but personal glory in his exploits, these now are done in
the name of and for the benefit of the American people.
The adventures in this volume, startling as they may seem, were
recounted to the author by the very men who underwent them; slight
details only being changed to fit them into the rapid sequence with
which they have to be compressed in the pages of a book. This little
company of "men who dare" are real beings, living a real life, and
ennobling as well as enriching their country by their efforts. In the
administration of this department, manliness, alertness, untiring
industry, and unfailing courage are the prime essentials, favoritism is
unknown, and every American boy and man has an equal chance.
The world is not yet all sordid and commonplace and the glamour of an
undiscovered peril is not yet all worn away. To show the inner and the
outer worth of the United States Geological Survey, as well as to depict
the adventurous possibilities open to a lad of perseverance and spirit,
is the intent and purpose of
THE AUTHOR.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I PAGE
A START AT THE CAPITAL 1
CHAPTER II
A TENDERFOOT SNIPE-SHOOT 23
CHAPTER III
FOOLING A RESCUE PARTY 44
CHAPTER IV
IN THE GIANT TULE SWAMPS 67
CHAPTER V
PERIL IN THE GRAND CANYON 88
CHAPTER VI
A LONE HAND AGAINST HUNGER 109
CHAPTER VII
SAVED BY HIS NERVE 130
CHAPTER VIII
THE LAND WHERE IT NEVER RAINS 149
CHAPTER IX
A FIRST-CLASS BUCKING MULE 172
CHAPTER X
AMERICANS THAT ARE FORGOTTEN 190
CHAPTER XI
WHERE PRIMITIVE JUSTICE REIGNS 210
CHAPTER XII
THE ALASKAN TRIP BEGUN 234
CHAPTER XIII
WRESTLING WITH A MOUNTAIN GOAT 252
CHAPTER XIV
BREAKING THE ICE JAM 268
CHAPTER XV
FACING DEATH IN A CANOE 290
CHAPTER XVI
DECLARING WAR ON UNCLE SAM 311
CHAPTER XVII
CLAWED BY AN ANGRY BEAR 328
CHAPTER XVIII
FIGHTING FIRE IN THE TUNDRA 344
CHAPTER XIX
RACING A POLAR WINTER 362
ILLUSTRATIONS
The Chief Geographer of the United States, surveying the
Sierras, with Assistant Topographer _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
In the Home of the Kodiak Bear 8
A Lofty Spouter }
Water Enough for All } 30
In the Tamarack Swamp 44
A Tangle of Swamp 54
Measuring Stream Flow 72
Difficulties of Work 76
Dense Southern Palm Grove 82
Grand Canyon of the Colorado 94
An Awkward Country to Work In 98
"How in the World am I going to get up there?" 108
A Hard Point to Measure 118
Twenty-seven Miles from Water 152
In the Death Valley 170
Crossing a Swollen Stream 176
Bridged by "Double Tree" 180
If He Should Slip! 186
A Grim and Icy Barrier 252
A General View of Tyonok 256
Farewell to Civilization 260
Where an Eternal Gale Rages 270
Morning after the Blizzard 278
Resting after a Long Pull 288
A Short but Dangerous Rapid 300
Skinning a Caribou 306
The End of a Hard Climb 310
The Only Bit of Rock for Miles 314
In Icy Water under a Burning Sun 348
Thus Far with the Boats, and no Farther! 354
Winter's Threat Almost Fulfilled 370
Eskimo Saviors }
Pointing away from Winter } 376
THE BOY WITH THE U. S. SURVEY
CHAPTER I
A START AT THE CAPITAL
"Mr. Rivers?"
The Alaskan explorer and geologist looked up from his desk and took in
with a quick glance the boy, standing hat in hand beside the door,
noting with quiet approval the steady gray eye and firm chin of his
visitor.
"Yes?" he replied.
"I'm Roger Doughty," explained the lad sturdily, "and Mr. Herold told me
that I should find you here."
"And what can I do for you?"
The boy seemed somewhat taken aback by the direct question, as though he
had expected the purpose of his visit to be known, but he answered
without hesitation.
"I understood from Mr. Herold that he had spoken to you about me. I want
to go to Alaska."
"You mean on the Survey?"
"Yes, sir."
"Your father wrote to me some time ago that you would be coming. He
said, if I remember, that you had been nominated one of the new field
men under that college scholarship plan."
"I think I am the first, Mr. Rivers," answered Roger with a smile.
"Sit down," said the elder man; then, as the boy hesitated, "just put
those books on the table."
The table in question was covered with an immense map showing the vast
unexplored and unsurveyed regions of Alaska, that far northern portion
of the United States which is equal in size to all the States west of
the Mississippi and north of Mason and Dixon's line.
"Mr. Herold spoke of the plan to me," continued the explorer, "but he
gave me few of the details. Tell me, if you can, just how the project is
to be worked."
"I don't know for certain, Mr. Rivers," replied the boy, "but so far as
I can make out, it is this way. You see, Mr. Carneller gave a large fund
to get some special boys into the government bureaus to give a chance
for the upbuilding of the personnel while still young, and this plan
was indorsed in Washington. The scholarship paid everything for two
years and gave the usual two months' vacation beside, giving also a
liberal allowance for personal expenses."
"And you say this plan is now proceeding?"
"I heard that it was to be tried this first year only in two or three
schools. I guess I was lucky, because they started out with us."
"But how does your father like the idea of your roughing it? In the days
when I knew him, he believed in keeping his boys near home."
"He wants me to stay, but, you see, Mr. Rivers, I always wanted to get
out and do something, and city life isn't what it's cracked up to be. I
want to be doing things worth while, things that will tell in the long
run, and this poking over columns of figures in a stuffy office doesn't
suit me worth a cent when I'm just aching to get out of doors."
The explorer's grave expression relaxed into a half-smile at the boyish
but earnest way of describing the feeling he himself knew so well; but
he felt it his duty to put bounds to that enthusiasm. Before he could
speak in protest, however, Roger continued:
"I know what you're going to say, all right, Mr. Rivers. I know there's
just as good work done nearer home as there is far away in Alaska or
the Bad Lands or any of those places, but why can't that work be done by
the fellows who like to hang around towns? I don't, that's all, and the
whole reason I went in for that scholarship and won it"--these last
words with an air of conscious pride--"was just so that I could get into
real and exciting work."
"If it's work you're after, you've come to the right place, Doughty,"
was the prompt reply, "but it's more laborious than exciting."
"Why, I thought it was full of excitement!" exclaimed Roger.
"Not especially. The work follows a regular routine on the trail, just
as it does anywhere else. It isn't so much the ability to face danger
that counts in the Survey, as it is the willingness to do
conscientiously the drudgery and hard work which bring in the real
results."
"No getting lost and wandering over frozen tundra until nearly at the
point of death, and then being rescued just in time?" asked the boy
breathlessly, his mind running on an exciting book which had occupied
his thoughts a few hours before.
"No!" The negative was emphatic. "The Alaskan parties are composed of
picked men, all of whom have had considerable experience and who don't
get lost. And if, by any chance, they are late in getting into camp,
they know how to shift for themselves. Besides, the chief of the party
is ever on the alert for the welfare of his men."
"But aren't there really any snowslides, or rapids, or forest fires, or
bears, or anything of that sort?" cried the boy in a disappointed tone.
"Surely it isn't as tame as all that?"
"I wouldn't go so far as to call it tame," responded the head of the
Alaskan work; "no, it's not tame, but you can't expect a different
adventure three times a day, like meals. We don't go out to find
adventures, but to do surveying, and are only too thankful when the work
goes ahead without any interruption. But of course little incidents do
occur. I was considerably delayed in scaling a glacier once, and you're
bound to strike a forest fire occasionally, but things like that don't
worry us. Rapids are a daily story, too, and of course there are lots of
bears."
"Lots of bears!" exclaimed Roger, his eyes lighting up in the discovery
that the days of adventure had not yet all passed by, "have you ever
been chased by a grizzly bear?"
"Worse than that!" The old-timer was smiling broadly at his would-be
follower's interest, being roused from his customary semi-taciturnity by
the boy's impetuous enthusiasm. "I thought a Kodiak bear had me one
time."
"Worse?" The boy leaned forward almost out of his chair in excitement.
"Is a Kodiak bear fiercer than a grizzly? Do tell me about it, Mr.
Rivers!"
"Oh, there wasn't much to it, I got away all right." Then, with intent
to change the subject, he continued, "but about this desire of yours to
go to the field----"
"Please, Mr. Rivers," interrupted Roger, his curiosity overcoming his
sense of politeness, "won't you tell me about the bear?"
The bushy brown eyebrows of the explorer lowered at the interruption,
but the boy went on hastily:
"I've never met any one before who had even seen a real bear loose, much
less had a fight with one. I don't want to seem rude, but I do want to
hear it so much."
"You are persistent, at least, Doughty," answered the other, with a
suspicion of annoyance in his manner, "but sometimes that's not such a
bad thing. Well, if you want to hear the story so much I'll tell it to
you, and perhaps it may show the sort of thing that sometimes does come
about on the trail. It was this way:
"Some four years ago, the Survey sent me on a trip which included the
mapping of a portion of the foothills of the Mt. St. Elias Range. It is
a rugged and barren part of the country, but although rough in the
extreme, no obstacles had been encountered that hard labor and long
hours could not overcome. It was a packing trip and everything had
progressed favorably, there was plenty of forage, the streams had been
fairly passable, and we feasted twice a day on moose or mountain sheep.
For days and weeks together we had hardly been out of sight of caribou.
They had a curious way of approaching, either one at a time or else in
quite large bands, coming close to the pack-train, then breaking away
suddenly at full gallop and returning in large circles. Even the crack
of a rifle could not scare them out of their curiosity, and we never
shot any except when we needed meat.
"One day I got back to camp with the boys a good deal earlier than
usual, somewhere about four o'clock. We had started very early that
morning, I remember, trying to gain a peak somewhat hard of access. It
was difficult enough, so difficult in fact, that the trial had to be
abandoned that day, as we found it could only be approached from the
other side. Of course our arrival sent George, the camp cook, into the
most violent kind of a hurry. He mentioned to me, as I remembered later,
that he had shot at a Kodiak bear somewhere about noon, and though he
had found tracks with blood in them, he did not believe that he had
wounded the bear sufficiently to make it worth while to track him. But
George was hustling at top speed to get dinner, and no one paid much
attention to him, I least of all, for I was trying to figure out the
best way to climb that peak next day.
"After dinner, it was still early, and as I was anxious to get a line on
the geology of the section, in order to determine how far the volcanic
formation of the Wrangell mountains intrudes upon the St. Elias Range, I
thought an hour would be well spent in investigating. I was not going
far from camp, so, as it chanced, I took nothing with me but my
geological hammer. About a mile from camp I found a sharp ravine, and I
wanted to see whether the granodiorite, which I could see in the walls
of the ravine, extended its whole depth. I scrambled down into the
ravine, making observations as I went, until the cleft ended in a sort
of dry lake bed, shaped like a deep oval saucer. Steep declivities ran
upward from the rim of this depression in every way but two, the ravine
down which I had come and a creek bed running to the south. Being
desirous of tracing the origin of this unusual configuration, I
scrambled to the edge, breaking through a clump of bushes on my way.
[Illustration: IN THE HOME OF THE KODIAK BEAR.
The pack-train on its way to the camp, where chief of party narrowly
escaped death.
_Photographs by U.S.G.S._]
"As I did so, I was startled by a deep and vicious growl which seemed to
come from my feet, and before I realized what the cracking of the
brushwood meant, the cook's story came back to me, and I broke for the
ravine. I was too late! There, in the path down which I had come, his
muzzle and paws red with the blood from the deep flesh wounds he had
received, and which he had been licking in order to try to assuage the
pain, stood an immense Kodiak bear. The Kodiak is not as ferocious as
the grizzly, but this beast was maddened by the pain of his wound, and
by the suspicion that I had followed to work him further ill. My slight
geologic pick was of no avail against the huge brute, my road of escape
was cut off, and the bear was advancing, growling angrily. I broke and
ran for the rim of the lake, hoping to be able to encircle it and
return to the opening of the ravine by which I had entered, and as I ran
I heard the bear charge after me.
"At the edge I paused, but there was no path along the former beach, and
having no alternative I slid down the debris into the lake bed. Blind
with rage the bear followed, and for a moment he seemed to have me at
his mercy. A hundred yards further on, however, some slender bushes grew
out of the shelving bank and with the bear but a few yards behind I
leaped for these. Had I missed my grasp, or had they been torn from
their slender rooting the story would have ended right there. But they
held, and I reached the level of the old beach, leaving my pursuer
momentarily baffled below. I lost no time in reaching the ravine, and I
think I pretty nearly hold the speed record in Alaska for that half-mile
back to camp."
"And the bear?" queried the boy.
"I'm on the Geological Survey, not in the wild animal business," was the
ready answer, "and I left that bear alone. I never hunt for trouble."
"And shall I see those bears if I go up with you this summer?" asked
Roger.
"Likely enough you will see them if you go up to Alaska, but that will
not be this summer."
"Why not, Mr. Rivers?"
"That work needs trained men, as I told you, and you know nothing of the
Survey yet. Besides, you will be sent where Mr. Herold thinks best, not
where you prefer to go."
"And I had hoped to see Alaska this summer!" cried the boy dejectedly.
"That could not be in any case; all the parties have started already,"
replied the older man. "You see, in order to make use of every day of
the short Alaskan summer, the men start early in the spring when a long
trip is planned, so that they will be at the point of start when the
break-up comes."
"Then I am too late after all!" said Roger, with the most acute
disappointment.
The experienced Alaskan explorer smiled.
"Doughty," he said, "you should realize that you could not possibly have
gone up with us this year. Minutes are too precious on the northern
trails to spend any of them teaching the routine of camp life or the
duties of the Survey. We take absolutely no men who are not experienced.
But, besides that, this year would not be the one in which you would
wish to go, since the parties now up there are surveying small sections
of territory to fill up gaps in the more populated areas."
"Then there is no chance for me?"
"Not this summer. But Mr. Herold did tell me that he had seen you, and
perhaps there may be an opportunity later for you to get into the
Alaskan work."
Roger bent forward eagerly to find out what was coming.
"If, therefore, you make good in the Survey during the coming year, I
might take you with me next summer, in what is going to be one of the
most interesting Alaskan trips ever undertaken, wherein I am going to
make a reconnoissance of Alaska from south to north, beginning at Cook
Inlet and working through to the Arctic Ocean. It will be my personal
party, and because the distance is so great it will have to be a forced
march every day without a break. That needs toughness, and of course I
know nothing of your powers of endurance. One weak man in the party, you
see, might delay us so that we would not reach the Arctic until after
the freeze-up and then there would be no getting out."
"I may not be very big, Mr. Rivers," said the boy with a conscious
gesture, "but I strip well."
The echo from the athletic field sounded strange in that office so full
of the actualities of life, and even Roger himself laughed at the way
his words sounded.
"I mean," he added, "that I was always able to do good track work and
had lots of wind."
"You need more than that. You need muscle and grit. I think you'll do,
Doughty," the explorer continued, "but if you want the chance of going
with me next spring, you've got to make a reputation for yourself in the
Survey. Learn your business as a rodman and so forth, become able to
pack a vicious mule, know how to swim an ice-cold river with a six-mile
current, get so that you can swing an ax and build a bridge, be an
expert canoeist in a boiling rapid, sit anything with four legs that
ever was foaled, accustom yourself to sixteen hours on the trail and to
picking out the soft side of a rock to sleep on, grow to like
mosquitoes, and by that time you'll be about ready for the Alaskan
trail. But it's no job for a weakling."
"Those are just the very things I want to be able to do," answered
Roger.
"I suppose you think because those seem to imply adventure that it will
be all very pleasant in the learning, but there is another factor
involved. We can find a hundred boys and men who are ready to face
danger and hardship to one who will face the drudgery of every-day
existence at the desk or in the field. It is not the shooting the rapids
which is difficult, but it is the days of heart-breaking toil in packing
around the rapids that test the man. Physical courage has ever been one
of the cheapest of commodities, and if we needed only this in our work,
it would not be so difficult to fill the ranks with the kind of men the
work demands. My own experience would lead me to believe that what we
need in the Geological Survey is the 'staying' rather than the 'dashing'
qualities. And you must remember that even if you do come with me next
year, there's no pull in it to bring you a sinecure, the chief of a
party has entirely a free hand in the selection of his assistants, and
their value for the work is almost the only consideration. If you come,
it will be practically as a camp hand, just to do what you're told,
whether it is what you want to do or not. Work on the Survey needs
backbone."
Roger's jaw set hard.
"You can enroll me on that party of yours, Mr. Rivers," he said with
determination, "and I'll be with you to the last ditch. I'm not
altogether a city boy, I've roughed it a good deal, and by the time
you're ready to start I'll be as hard as nails. I don't care what
trouble it takes, I'm bound to go!"
The older man rose from his seat and put his hand on the boy's shoulder.
"You've the right spirit, Doughty," he said, "and I expect I'll be able
to take you. You'd better go down and see the Director and he will get
you started, so that you can begin to get ready to come with me next
spring. No, on second thoughts," he added, "I'll go down with you
myself."
Chatting pleasantly, the two took the elevator to the second floor of
the Survey building, where was located the Director's office, and as
John, the old colored hallman, told them that the chief was engaged,
Rivers led the way into the big room, where Mitchon, the Director's
secretary, had his desk.
"Well, Roger," said the latter, for he had met the boy before he had
gone up to the Alaskan geologist's office, "did you find out a lot of
things about Alaska?"
"Quite a number, Mr. Mitchon," answered the boy.
"And are you still as anxious to go as ever?"
"More!"
The chief of the northern work put his hand on the boy's shoulder. Then,
greatly to the secretary's surprise, for he knew how rarely Rivers could
be got to talk, the geologist recounted with gusto his endeavors to
dissuade the boy by representing the hardships of the trail and how each
successive obstacle had but deepened the lad's purpose; and when he told
of Roger's determination to acquire in a few months all the
accomplishments and virtues of an old-time woodsman, Rivers's short and
infrequent laugh found vent.
"And I tell you what, Mr. Mitchon," he concluded, just as two visitors
entered the room, "that's the kind of boy these United States want!"
On seeing the Director and his guest, the secretary, who had been
leaning back in his swinging chair listening with great amusement and
zest, sprang to his feet, but before he could say anything the visitor
broke in with warm, enthusiastic tones.
"And that's the kind of lad I like to know. Shake hands, my boy, and
tell me your name."
"Roger Doughty, sir," answered the boy, wincing a little under the grip.
"The first of the Carneller nominees," put in the Director.
But the guest had turned, and after greeting the secretary, spoke to
Rivers, who still had one hand on the boy's shoulder.
"I think I met you with reference to Alaska," he said readily, "but I do
not recall your name."
"Rivers, Mr. President," answered the geologist.
"Mr. President!" Roger felt almost suffocated with joy at hearing that
this praise of him had come direct to the ears of the President of the
United States.
"I am delighted, Mr. Rivers, delighted," said the President, "to have
this opportunity of seeing you again, and to hear you approve this new
plan so heartily."
"I didn't approve of it at all, Mr. President," answered Rivers with
characteristic abruptness, "but this boy has converted me."
"Tell the President the story, Mr. Rivers," suggested Mitchon.
"I had been pointing out to the lad," accordingly said the geologist,
"how exceedingly strenuous is the work on the Alaskan trail, how that
none but picked, experienced men of iron constitution and frontier
powers of endurance could carry out the work, and how one weak man in
the party might cripple the entire season's trip."
The President nodded.
"That is absolutely true," he said; "that is why so many hunting trips
are failures when there is a large party along. But I interrupt."
"So I urged that he must get a reputation before coming with me. As far
as I can remember, I said to him, 'You must first learn your business as
a rodman and so forth, be able to throw a diamond hitch over a vicious
mule, climb a peak with no firmer hand-hold than your finger-nails will
give you, learn to swim a glacier-fed river with a six-mile current,
ride any brute that ever was foaled, run every kind of rapid in any sort
of a canoe, find out how to swing an ax and build a bridge, be able to
find your way over the most rugged country in the vilest weather or on a
pitch-black night, get used to sixteen hours on the trail, and to
picking out a soft rock to sleep on, chum up with grizzlies and grow to
like mosquitoes, and by that time you will be ready for the Alaskan
trail.'"
The President burst into a hearty laugh, and said,
"That ought to have settled him!"
"Hm! Settled him! He just said, 'You can enroll me on that party of
yours,' and by all the powers, I will."
"You're right," said the President emphatically, "and I say to the
workers of the Survey, as I said to another band of workers once, that
it is a good thing that there should be a large body of our fellow
citizens--that there should be a profession--whose members must, year in
and year out, display those old, old qualities of courage, daring,
resolution, and unflinching willingness to meet danger at need. I hope
to see all our people develop the softer, gentler virtues to an
ever-increasing degree, but I hope never to see them lose the sterner
virtues that make men, men."
Roger listened with all his ears, hoping that the President would turn
directly to him. Nor was he disappointed. After some congratulatory
words to Rivers on the value of the Alaskan work and the ability
displayed in its direction, he turned to Roger.
"My boy," he said, "you are starting out the right way. You are the
first of a little army of workers who shall help to win the victories
of peace. You have a nobler mission than that of preserving a fine
tradition unspotted, you have the rare honor of making the tradition. Be
manly and straight, give a square deal and never be afraid of hard work,
and make for yourself and for those who shall come after you a record
worthy of inclusion in the annals of the Geological Survey of which we
are so justly proud."
He shook hands with Roger again, and bowing to Rivers and Mitchon, went
on his way with the Director. For a moment no one spoke, both men
watching the boy keenly. Suddenly the look of solemnity and attention
slipped from his face, and stepping forward unconsciously as though to
follow, he burst out:
"He's fine! Oh, isn't he just bully!" Then he caught the secretary's
smile, and he checked himself. "And wasn't he just kind to me! Oh, Mr.
Mitchon, how can I thank you, and you, Mr. Rivers. I have wanted to see
the President for years and years, but I never dreamed of seeing him
close, like that, and talking to him, except at some public reception,
which would seem altogether different."
Tears of pride and joy stood in the lad's eyes, and he choked, unable to
go on. The men were touched by the boy's intense patriotism and
emotion, and then the secretary said softly:
"That, Roger, will be something to inspire you and make you stronger in
all the hard moments of your life. The greatness of the President," he
continued, "lies in his power to make greater all those with whom he
comes in contact."
"I could never forget it," replied Roger in a low voice.
"And now," resumed Mitchon, "I may tell you that we were sure Mr. Rivers
would not advise you to go to Alaska this year, and Mr. Herold told me
to take you to Mr. Field, who has charge of the swamp work in Minnesota.
You will go out with him as soon as he opens field work, which, I
presume, will be next week."
Rivers then turned to the boy.
"Doughty," he said, "probably I shall not see you again until next
autumn, when I come back from an inspection of the Alaskan camps, but I
don't want to lose track of you. Write to me here, at the Survey, at
least once a month, and they will forward my letters. I will not add
anything to what the President has said, because I think no more is
needed, but I will say that if you make good as well as you promise, I
shall be glad to have you in my party. Not," he added, as an
afterthought, "because of your scholarship or any friendships you may
possess, but because I think you will be willing to work hard and do
your best."
"My word," said the secretary with a whistle, "that's a lot--from you."
"It is," answered the geologist, shaking Roger's hand heartily, and
leaving the boy alone with Mitchon.
"And now, Roger," said the latter, "I will take you where you can begin
to acquire that large stock of experience."