Paimute down river, I am told, has nothing but Eskimo; Holy Cross, but
a few natives now, mainly Indian; above Holy Cross, Indian, Eskimo only
as adapted or in admixture.
July 3, 8.30 p. m. Hills on right now right before us. Behind first a
fish camp of the Holy Cross Mission natives. River narrows and bends.
Two other fish camps become visible. Stop; damp, cold, smoke, fish
smell, a few natives, Eskimo. River now like molten glass, but air damp
and cold, and I must sit behind the engine and keep my hands over the
hot exhaust pipe to keep somewhat comfortable.
Pass bulging bluffs on right--old stratified shales.
11.00 p. m. Arrive at our destination about 11 p. m. But a few log huts
on the right side of the river, with few others and a primitive frame
church in the back. A little store and a big storehouse (with skins,
etc.), trader's house (log cabin) a few rods away. Open store, only to
find that a pup had been forgotten there, made a lot of mess and dirt
and ate most of one side of bacon.
12.00 p. m. Got to bed in the cabin at 12. Spread bed roll on two
reindeer skins which, with fire in the stove, keep me fairly warm. Rain
in night and several earth tremors--common in these parts; feel several
light ones every night and a stronger one occasionally even in daytime
(a big "fault" in the Alaskan range and a proximity to the Aleutian
volcanic zone).
Awake before 8, but as it still rains nothing can be done, while my man
within a few feet of me still snores; stay in blanket till 9. Modest
breakfast at 10 a. m.
10.00 a. m. A little house cleaning--watch kitten clean windows of
the many flies, which it eats; and then my man, a Swede by birth,
sailor, self-taught painter (of ships and sea scenes), and musician
(accordion), goes to bail out the boat. Still full of bites that
itch and need a lot of Aseptinol, which in turn makes underwear look
dreadful. And no bath possible.
Last night met some of the local Eskimo, full bloods, mostly from the
Kuskokwim River. Strong, kinder than the Yukon Indians. But they differ
but little in some cases from the latter. They are medium brown in
color, hair exactly like the Indian, beard also--only the rather flat
(not prominent) mid parts of the face, with rather long and narrow
(upper two-thirds) nose, and the cheek bones protruding more or less
forward, with face long (often), due to the vertical development of the
jaws, helps to distinguish them as Eskimo. There is no clear line of
demarcation between the Indian farther up the river and the Eskimo down
here, yet in some here the Eskimo type is unmistakable. They have more
epicanthus, flatter, longer, and stronger (more massive) face, stronger
frame, rather submedium length of legs, and less brachycephalic (or
more oblong) head, but not the characteristic, narrow and high,
keel-shaped dome that one is used to associate with the Eskimo.
1 p. m. A little lunch--just a cup of coffee and a few crackers.
Photograph two natives.
1.30 p. m. Start toward Russian Mission. Trader carries sugar in bags
and tea for camps.
Near 2. Stop at an Eskimo camp, see sick baby, photograph a few
individuals. Get an ax for a pocketbook--old man happy as a child
at the exchange. Made another one happy this morning in payment for
information with one of my steamer caps. (Pl. 4, _a_.)
Pass along the still continuing bulging hills on the right. They are
forested over lower parts, barren, though mostly greenish, above. As
usual flats on left, devoid of man. Occasionally a fish camp on right,
or a small village, somewhat different, though in essentials like the
Indian (more gregariousness noticeable--up river mostly individual or
at most two or three families). Every favorable higher flat or low
saddle among the hills on the right and facing the river (or a slough)
is utilized by the natives, but such places are scarce.
The ax obtained looks as if it had been broken after found, to make of
it a single-edge tool. Tumbled out of a bank. Old Eskimo knew not who
made it. Found some miles below Paimute by the old man. Others found,
but lost. Ivory arrow and spear points also known to natives, but no
one now has any.
A mountain ahead of us. Sky clouded mostly, high diffuse vapors and
low, heavy but separated cumuli in the east; one would expect soon
a heavy rain. Visibility exceptionally good, horizons far away,
uncommonly clear. Mountains sharply outlined against the sky.
About 12 miles below Paimute, on left, some higher banks (old silts and
dunes). The ax from the old man had been found here. Stop. Find pottery
12 feet, charcoal 15 feet from surface. Also polished and worked
stones. But most of bank has already been cut off and what remains
shows no signs of man on the top. (Pl. 4, _b_.)
Cross river obliquely to right bank, just beyond last ("12-mile") hill.
Find at once numerous evidences of stone work along the stony beach. In
an hour have a fair collection, mainly rejects, but interesting. On top
of bank find several mounds and ridges, doubtless dunes, though the one
farthest up the river looks very much like a large oval man-made mound.
Parts of two much-weathered skulls and one bone lay on the top of this.
No definite marks of graves excepting perhaps in one instance. A sign
of old clearing farther down, but no "barabras." A spot well worthy
of exploration. It was, I learned a little later from Nick Williams,
a native who used to act as a pilot on the river, the old mountain
village or "Ingrega-miut," and the site is 12 miles downstream from
Paimute. (Pl. 4, _c_.)
Beyond are flats and cut banks, both sides, but with hills (old water
front) behind on the right and mountains in front. River here very wide.
Many of the worked stones, and occasionally, according to native
information, skulls and bones, are washed out from the banks and
deposited (rolling, etc.) lower on the beach in something like strata,
and in that way evidence is being perverted. Some day a new bank or
even a dune may be formed over these secondary deposits and a great
source of possible future error be completed.
All the natives along the river (to here) like to bury on the lower
slopes of near-by hills.
To bed on floor of kitchen tent at the fine, clean little place of
Tucker's, at 10.30. At 1.30 the 20 dogs start a fine, sustained, unison
howl song, and I seem to hear an approaching boat. As the Governor of
Alaska is expected, slip on shoes and necktie, brush hair, and run out.
There is a little boat at the little "dock" (the only one seen so far
on the Yukon). Tucker and his son are already there, and I soon hear
that the governor is on the boat, which is that of Mr. Townsend, of the
Fish Commission. In a few minutes we meet, both in shirt sleeves. And
I learn the _Matanuska_, the boat that was to take me from the Russian
Mission to St. Michael, has broken down and is not coming. In her
place, but no telling as to time, will be sent the _Agnes_, a smaller
and slower boat, on which three people have already this season been
"gassed" (overcome by the exhaust gases), one of them jumping into the
river. She has accommodation for four persons at most, and that of the
most primitive, they say. The governor fortunately gives me some hope
that I may be picked up and taken down by the same boat which is taking
him to Holy Cross. He also tells me of a skull for me at one of the
stopping places, Old Hamilton. A frank, good, strong man.
Boat leaves in a few minutes. Back to bed, but now almost full
daylight--also cold, and so no more than a doze until 6.15, at which
time the boy comes to the kitchen where I was kindly accommodated
to start fire and breakfast. So up with a drowsy head. At 7
breakfast--coffee, oatmeal, flapjacks, and good company. Everything
about this place is neat, fresh, pleasing--the best individual place
on the river. Cloudy, blustery, cool; can not start, so go 1½ miles
down to Dogfish village, or I-ka-thloy-gia-miut--probably the same as
Zagoskin's I-ka-lig-vig-miut. Only three or four families there now;
nearly all the inhabitants died of influenza in 1900. But already
before reaching the village, in examining the stones along the beach, I
find some chipped ones, and they represent the same industry evidently
as those at the two sites yesterday. Later find numerous chipped
scrapers, pointed hammers, crude cutters and chisels, and a few axes.
Make quite a collection, including a few objects found in possession of
natives.
This is a good site, above high water. Must be old. Pottery also
encountered occasionally by present occupants, but not one bead;
little if any river cutting here for a long period. Worth exploration.
Photograph another Indianlike Eskimo. Want to buy an old dish from an
Eskimo, border inlaid with six white stones, shaped like an oblong
lozenge with rounded corners, but he wants $20. Lunch all together,
some Eskimo included, at Tucker's, and then as the wind moderates and
the sun comes out, start for the Russian Mission. Mostly still clouds
and cool, with some rain in the mountains to the right.
Finds and inquiries made at Dogfish village make it positive that the
stone culture there is Eskimo, i. e., of the Eskimo of this region
who are probably not a little mixed with Indians. Their head is but
moderately oblong, not keel shaped. The majority, however, have Eskimo
features.
But the cupid-bow (double-grooved) axes are not known to have been made
by these people, and when used after being found or brought down from
farther up the river they apparently were broken. One such example was
seen already at Ruby--another one at Anvik--secured; and one found
yesterday at Mountain village. The axes here are most often oblong,
quadrilateral, without groove, or approaching the single-grooved axes
of the Indians in the States.
July 6. Proceed down the river toward Russian Mission, examining the
banks as closely as possible. Toward evening stop at "Gurtler's," a
short distance above the mission.
Mr. Gurtler is a German by birth; his wife is half Indian, of Ruby.
She, as well as her 14-year-old daughter, are neat, apt, and very
industrious, quiet and nice mannered. With an Eskimo woman, she cleans
and cuts up--a whole art of its own--on the average over 200 good-sized
salmon a day. Clean place, very good smoking house--much superior to
those up the river, except Tucker's.
Sleep in a clean bed of theirs; would much prefer my own and the hard
floor, but fear to offend.