The mission above Tanana is beautifully located on the elevated right
Yukon bank, facing Nuklukhayet island and point, the latter, according
to old reports, an old trading and meeting spot of the Kuchin tribes,
and the confluence of the Tanana with the Yukon. The mission house,
located on rising ground, the wooden church lower down, the cemetery a
bit farther up, and the Indian village a bit farther downstream, with
their colors and that of the luxuriant vegetation, form a picturesque
cluster.
I am kindly received by Mr. Fullerton and his wife and given
accommodation in their house. On the part of the good-sized Indian
village everything is life and bustle and we soon are over. Motor
launches owned and operated by the Indians in the river; dogs, scores
of the big, half-wild, noisy sled dogs tied to stakes along the slope
of the bank, fighting stray ones, barking in whole outbursts, feeding
on smelly fish, or digging cooling holes into the bank in which they
hide most of the body from the warm rays of the sun; and many Indians,
about 400 in all, in whole families, in houses, large canvas tents,
cooking, eating, visiting--a busy multitude, but with white man's
clothes, utensils, etc., not nearly so interesting as a group of more
primitive Indians would be.
Walk, visit, talk, and observe. Note many mix-bloods, especially among
the younger ones and the children. Among the full bloods, many, about
one-half, with features reminding more or less of Eskimoid; but a few
typically Indian, i. e., like most of the States Indians.
Medium stature, substantial but not massive build, quite a few of
the older women stout. Color of full bloods generally near medium
brown, features regular Indian but not exaggerated, noses rather
low especially in upper half, eyes and hair Indian. Epicanthus not
excessive in children, absent in adults (traces in younger women), eyes
not markedly oblique. Behavior, Indian.
The more pronounced Eskimoids have flatter and longer faces, more
oblique eyes, and more marked epicanthus. They should come, it would
seem, from Eskimo admixture. The Tanana Indians (Nenana) did not, so
far as seen, show such physiognomies.
Toward evening, and especially after supper, natives sing and dance.
Songs of Indian characteristics, and yet different from those in south;
some more expressive. A song "for dead mother," very sad, affects some
to crying aloud (a woman, a man). A wash song--a row of women and even
some men imitating, standing in a row, the movements in washing, while
others sing; humorous. A dance in a line, curving to a circle, of a
more typical Indian character. Late at night, a war dance, with much
supple contortion. Also other songs and dances up to 2.30 a. m.--heard
in bed.
June 19. With dogs barking and whining and Indians singing, got little
rest. All Indians sleep until afternoon. No chance of doing anything,
so go down to town to get instruments and blanks. Find that storekeeper
has an old stone ax--sells it to me for $1. Also tells of a farmer
who has one--go there with the boat and obtain it as a gift; told of
another one--a Finn--has two, sells them for $1. Come from the gravelly
bank of the river or are dug out in gardening. There may well have been
old settlements in this favorable location. After return, visit some
tents to see sick. Much sickness--eyes, tuberculosis--now and then
probably syphilis.
Indians relatively civilized, more than expected, and most speak
tolerable English. Have flags, guns, sleep in some cases on iron beds
and under mosquito netting, smoke cigarettes and cigars; and even play
fiddles. Of course some have also learned the white man's cupidity and
vices.
This day I met with something unexpected, due to perversity of
mix-breed nature. Seeing so many Indians present, and after a good
reception by them the evening preceding, I thought of utilizing the
occasion for taking some measurements. I therefore mentioned the thing
to some of the head men shortly after my arrival and receiving what
seemed assent, went to-day to Tanana to get my instruments. On coming
back and finding a few of the old men, who were quite friendly, I
invited them into the "kashim" (community house) and began to question
them on old sites, etc., when in came, probably somewhat under the
influence of liquor, a mix-breed to whom I had been introduced the
night before and who at that time acted quite civilly, but now coming
forward began rather loudly and offensively to question about what I
wanted here and about authority, giving me to understand at last quite
plainly that he wanted to "be paid" if I was to take any measurements.
He claimed to be one of the "chiefs," and I would not be allowed to
do anything without his help. His harangue quite disturbed the other
Indians, who evidently were both ashamed and afraid of the fellow. And
as I would not be coerced into employing and paying him, and there
being no one, as I learned, of supreme authority, the "chief" of these
Indians being little more than a figurehead, it was decided to give up
the attempt at measurements. The rest of the visit was therefore given
to further observations and to the witnessing of the potlatch. Chief
Joseph (pl. 14), nominally the head of these Yukon Indians, expressed
his sorrow and tried to make amends by offering himself.
The potlatch was evidently in the main a social gathering of the Yukon
Indians, with the Tanana natives as visitors. It consisted mainly of
eating, singing, and dancing, to be terminated by a big "give-away."
This latter was witnessed. It proved a disappointing and rather
senseless affair. The whole transaction consists in the buying and
gathering, and on this occasion giving away, of all sorts of objects,
by some one, or several, who have lost a husband, wife, mother,
etc., during the preceding year. The possessions of the deceased are
included in this and doubtless often transmit disease. All the color
of the observance is now gone. The goods--blankets, clothing, fabrics,
guns, and many other objects, even pieces of furniture, trunks, or
stoves--are gathered in the open and when the time comes are one after
another selected by those dispensing and brought to this or that man
or woman of those who have gathered around. No song, no ceremony,
no talks, no thanking, no "wake" following. Just a poor shadow of
something that formerly may have been a tragic, memorable, and meaning
occasion.
Returned to Tanana near 10 p. m. and found lodging with a storekeeper
who kept a "hotel." Got a big room, big bed, and when store closed was
alone in the house, the storekeeper sleeping elsewhere.
June 20. But, Alaska was evidently not made for sleepers. Had not a
wink until after 3 a. m.--daylight, people talking loud and walking on
the board walk outside, and heard so clearly in my room--loud-laughing
girls, the dogs, and at last another boat with its siren; and every
now and then a singing mosquito trying to get at me through even the
small opening left under the sheet for breathing--there being no
netting. Finally doze off, to wake near 9 a. m., but everything closed,
deadlike. However, go to a little frame house for breakfast, and in
waiting until it is made find myself with two elderly men who go to-day
down the river with their boats. One is a former store clerk, etc.,
and now an "optician"--peddles eyeglasses down the river; the other
was a prospector, miner, and blacksmith, now an itinerant "jeweler"
and a reputed "hootch" peddler. As the latter--otherwise a pretty good
fellow--has a good-sized though old boat, arrange to go down with him.
See the marshal, storekeeper, settle with my hotel man (had to go at 11
to awake him), and ready to start.
The outfit is largely homemade, not imposing, old, unpainted, and unfit
for the rough--but it could be worse. It consists of a scow, a low,
flat-bottomed boat, partly covered with canvas roof on birch hoops,
in which Peake (the owner) carries fresh meat to some one, a stove,
dishes, bedding, and many other things; and the motor boat proper, in
which there is little room except for the machine and its tender. The
latter sits on a soap box; I, on a seat extemporized from a cylindrical
piece of firewood with a little board across it, with my two boxes
and bedding within easy reach. Sit in front of the scow, except when
driven back by spray. But our motor works and so we start quite well
at some time after 11. The arrangement is to stop at every white man's
camp or settlement down to Ruby. I could have gone on a better boat
with its owner, but they charge here $15 a day, with "keep," and twice
the amount for the return of the man and the boat, which is beyond my
resources.
Tanana--Ruby. The river is clearer than the Tanana, and much broader.
It is a great fine stream and its shores, while mostly still low on the
left, on the right rise here and there into moderate loess bluffs, far
beyond which are seen higher elevations and bluish forested mountains.
All covered with poplar and spruce.
2.15 p. m. Wind has so increased that the scow bumps and squeaks and
there is danger of opening its seams. Therefore side to the beach and
make lunch--a roast of fat pork, over-salted, canned spinach, dry
bread, and black coffee. All on a simple, old, but efficient little
stove in the boat. Our companion, the oculist, rides not with us but in
a nice little green canoe with a plaything of a gasoline motor fastened
to the backboard, but we all eat and sleep together.
But a few small Indian camps seen, and no white man's house. Soon after
lunch, however, approach "The Old Station," where there are a few
Indian houses, and later a white man's place (Burchell's). Stop at the
latter. Learn that we are 20 miles from Tanana and on a 5-mile-long
channel. There are here 15 to 40 feet high loess-like (silt) bluffs
with a flat on the top, which latter was from far back one of the most
important sites of the Indians of these regions. Mr. Burchell and his
partner kindly take me back, with their better boat, to the main old
site. Many old graves there, a few still marked. Traces of dugouts
(birch-bark lined), houses, caches, etc., from Burchell's place to old
main site. Important place that deserves to be thoroughly excavated,
though this will entail no little work. Site was of the choicest,
dominant, healthy. Connects by a trail, still traceable, with the
Koyukuk region.
There are said to be no traces of pottery in any of these parts. But
average to very large stone axes are washed out occasionally from the
banks, and other articles are dug out (long ivory spear, bone scraper,
etc.). Promise of bones, etc., by Mr. Burchell.
One hundred miles more to Ruby. Near 8 p. m. start again--sun still
high, little wind--endeavor to get to the "bone yard," a great bank
bearing fossils. Fine clean scenery, flat on left, flat to elevated
with grey-blue mountainous beyond on right. Water now calm and we make
good progress. Very few camps--dogs on the beach, fish-drying racks
a little farther, then a little log cabin and perhaps a tent, with
somewhere near by in the river the inevitable fish wheel, turning
slowly with the current.
Had supper at Burchell's; white fish, boiled potato, coffee, some
canned greens.
Scenery in spots precious, virginal, flat at the river, elevated
behind, foreground covered by the lighter green of poplars and birches,
with upright, somber, dark spruce behind. Sun on the right, half moon
on the left, and river like a big glassy lake, just rippling a little
here and there. Cooler--need a coat. On right, getting gradually nearer
the mountains.
Near 10 p. m. Sun still above horizon. On left a long (several miles),
mostly wooded, but here and there denuded, palisade-like bank,
apparently 200-400 feet high--the "graveyard."
Monday, June 21. Just at sunset last night--after 10 o'clock--came to
the "bone yard" bank--a long curving line of loess bluffs 100 to 300
feet high, steep right to water's edge, riven by many ravines. Lowest
third (approximately) light compact loess; then a thick layer of river
sand (stratified more or less) and small gravel, then from one-third to
nearly two-fifths of darker loess. In spots quite dark, frozen, but on
surface melting, "running," also tumbling in smaller or larger masses.
Wherever darker there emanates from it and spreads far out over the
river a decided mummy-like smell. Too late to photograph from boat,
and no other place available. Also impracticable to explore with any
detail--would take several days and be a difficult work. The bluffs
become gradually lower downstream. No bones seen from boat, but mostly
were not near enough to discern. A remarkable formation, in many ways,
and in need of masterly study as well as description.
Night on a low gravelly and pebbly beach. Many mosquitoes. Mosquito
netting found bad--sides too short (gave directions, but they were
disregarded) and mesh not small enough. In a short time impossible to
stay under. Supplemented by old netting of Mr. Peake, who will sleep
under his canvas in the boat; but the old dirty net has holes in it
and the mosquitoes keep on coming through the two. Fighting them until
some time after midnight, then under all my things--netting, blanket,
clothes--find some rest, sleeping until 4.30 a. m. After that--full
day, of course--sleep impossible. The "optician," who slept well under
proper Alaska netting, gets up, wakes my man; we both get up, shake,
roll up bedding, have a cat-wash, then breakfast, and at 6.30 off once
more along the beautiful but not hospitable river.
Inquiry at a local white man's cabin about fossils and Indian things
negative--has paid no attention, and fossil bones that he sometimes
comes across generally not in good state of preservation.
Right bank now hilly, with greater hills and then mountains behind.
Warm, river smooth, just a light breeze. How puny we are in all this
greatness.
A lot of trouble develops with the engine to-day--bad pump. Will not
get to Ruby until evening. Meat, on which I must sit occasionally,
begins to smell, and there are numerous horseflies, probably attracted
by the smell.
Four p. m. Visit Kokrines, on a high bank, native village, cemetery.
Photograph some natives, are good natured, talk pidgin English. Clearly
considerable old Eskimo admixture, but the substratum and main portion
is Indian. All kind and cheerful here, glad to have pictures taken.
Only white man is a "road-house" keeper; i. e., storekeeper. Store,
however, poorly stocked, probably in all not over $200 worth of goods.
"Optician," who is hoggish, has headache, but eats and drinks all he
can nevertheless. "Jeweler" repaired his pump, and so we are once more
on the way--35 miles more to Ruby. No trace of any relics at Kokrines.
River now a mile wide, with many "slews" (side channels, sloughs), and
many low, flat, forested islands. Mountains to right, higher, traces
of snow. Smoke wall from forest fire advancing from the west--now
also smell. Islands beautiful, fresh colors and clean--light grass on
border, then green and grayish poplars, birches, and alder, from among
which rise the blackish green spruces. Little native fishing camps a
mile or two apart, right bank--on left wilderness of flats, as usual.
A few miles above Ruby conditions change--high bluffs (rocky) now
on left, flat on right side. Ruby, from a distance and after the
loneliness of the day, looks quite a little town on the left bank, at
the base of the higher ground.