[Transcriber's Note: Bold text is surrounded by =equal signs= and italic
text is surrounded by _underscores_.]
Our Little Alaskan Cousin
THE
Little Cousin Series
(TRADE MARK)
Each volume illustrated with six or more full-page plates in
tint. Cloth, 12mo, with decorative cover,
per volume, 60 cents
LIST OF TITLES
BY MARY HAZELTON WADE
(unless otherwise indicated)
=Our Little African Cousin=
=Our Little Alaskan Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Arabian Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Armenian Cousin=
=Our Little Australian Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Brazilian Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Brown Cousin=
=Our Little Canadian Cousin=
By Elizabeth R. MacDonald
=Our Little Chinese Cousin=
By Isaac Taylor Headland
=Our Little Cuban Cousin=
=Our Little Dutch Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Egyptian Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little English Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Eskimo Cousin=
=Our Little French Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little German Cousin=
=Our Little Greek Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Hawaiian Cousin=
=Our Little Hindu Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Indian Cousin=
=Our Little Irish Cousin=
=Our Little Italian Cousin=
=Our Little Japanese Cousin=
=Our Little Jewish Cousin=
=Our Little Korean Cousin=
By H. Lee M. Pike
=Our Little Mexican Cousin=
By Edward C. Butler
=Our Little Norwegian Cousin=
=Our Little Panama Cousin=
By H. Lee M. Pike
=Our Little Philippine Cousin=
=Our Little Porto Rican Cousin=
=Our Little Russian Cousin=
=Our Little Scotch Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Siamese Cousin=
=Our Little Spanish Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Swedish Cousin=
By Claire M. Coburn
=Our Little Swiss Cousin=
=Our Little Turkish Cousin=
L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
New England Building, Boston, Mass.
[Illustration: "KALITAN FISHED DILIGENTLY BUT CAUGHT LITTLE."
(_See page 3_)]
Our Little Alaskan
Cousin
By
Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
_Author of "Our Little Spanish Cousin," "With
a Pessimist in Spain," "God, the
King, My Brother," etc._
_Illustrated_
[Illustration]
Boston
L. C. Page & Company
_PUBLISHERS_
_Copyright, 1907_
BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
(INCORPORATED)
_All rights reserved_
Third Impression, May, 1909
TO MY LITTLE SON
John Nixon de Roulet
Preface
AWAY up toward the frozen north lies the great peninsula, which the
United States bought from the Russians, and thus became responsible for
the native peoples from whom the Russians had taken the land.
There are many kinds of people there, from Indians to Esquimos, and they
are under the American Government, yet they have no votes and are not
called American citizens.
It is about this country and its people that this little story is
written, and in the hope of interesting American girls and boys in these
very strange people, their Little Alaskan Cousins.
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
I. KALITAN TENAS 1
II. AROUND THE CAMP-FIRE 12
III. TO THE GLACIER 26
IV. TED MEETS MR. BRUIN 38
V. A MONSTER OF THE DEEP 48
VI. THE ISLAND HOME OF KALITAN 60
VII. TWILIGHT TALES AND TOTEMS 71
VIII. THE BERRY DANCE 82
IX. ON THE WAY TO NOME 93
X. IN THE GOLD COUNTRY 108
XI. AFTERNOON TEA IN AN EGLU 119
XII. THE SPLENDOUR OF SAGHALIE TYEE 129
List of Illustrations
PAGE
"KALITAN FISHED DILIGENTLY BUT CAUGHT
LITTLE" (_See page 3_) _Frontispiece_
"AWAY WENT ANOTHER STINGING LANCE" 57
"A GROUP OF PEOPLE AWAITING THE CANOES" 64
MOUNT SHISHALDIN 99
"'LET'S WATCH THOSE TWO MEN. THEY HAVE
EVIDENTLY STAKED A CLAIM TOGETHER'" 113
"TWO FUNNY LITTLE LAPP BABIES HE TOOK
TO RIDE ON A LARGE REINDEER" 134
Our Little Alaskan Cousin
CHAPTER I
KALITAN TENAS
IT was bitterly cold. Kalitan Tenas felt it more than he had in the long
winter, for then it was still and calm as night, and now the wind was
blowing straight in from the sea, and the river was frozen tight.
A month before, the ice had begun to break and he had thought the cold
was over, and that the all too short Alaskan summer was at hand. Now it
was the first of May, and just as he had begun to think of summer
pleasures, lo! a storm had come which seemed to freeze the very marrow
of his bones. However, our little Alaskan cousin was used to cold and
trained to it, and would not dream of fussing over a little snow-storm.
Kalitan started out to fish for his dinner, and though the snow came
down heavily and he had to break through the ice to make a fishing-hole,
and soon the ice was a wind-swept plain where even his own tracks were
covered with a white pall, he fished steadily on. He never dreamed of
stopping until he had fish enough for dinner, for, like most of his
tribe, he was persevering and industrious.
Kalitan was a Thlinkit, though, if you asked him, he would say he was
"Klinkit." This is a tribe which has puzzled wise people for a long
time, for the Thlinkits are not Esquimos, not Indians, not coloured
people, nor whites. They are the tribes living in Southeastern Alaska
and along the coast. Many think that a long, long time ago, they came
from Japan or some far Eastern country, for they look something like
the Japanese, and their language has many words similar to Japanese in
it.
Perhaps, long years ago, some shipwrecked Japanese were cast upon the
coast of Alaska, and, finding their boats destroyed and the land good to
live in, settled there, and thus began the Thlinkit tribes.
The Chilcats, Haidahs, and Tsimsheans are all Thlinkits, and are by far
the best of the brown people of the Northland. They are honest, simple,
and kind, and more intelligent than the Indians living farther north, in
the colder regions. The Thlinkit coast is washed by the warm current
from the Japan Sea, and it is not much colder than Chicago or Boston,
though the winter is a little longer.
Kalitan fished diligently but caught little. He was warmly clad in
sealskin; around his neck was a white bearskin ruff, as warm as toast,
and very pretty, too, as soft and fluffy as a lady's boa. On his feet
were moccasins of walrus hide. He had been perhaps an hour watching the
hole in the ice, and knelt there so still that he looked almost as
though he were frozen. Indeed, that was what those thought who saw him
there, for suddenly a dog-sledge came round the corner of the hill and a
loud halloo greeted his ears.
"Boston men," he said to himself as he watched them, "lost the trail."
They had indeed lost the trail, and Ted Strong had begun to think they
would never find it again.
Chetwoof, their Indian guide, had not talked very much about it, but
lapsed into his favourite "No understan'," a remark he always made when
he did not want to answer what was said to him.
Ted and his father were on their way from Sitka to the Copper River. Mr.
Strong was on the United States Geological Survey, which Ted knew meant
that he had to go all around the country and poke about all day among
rocks and mountains and glaciers. He had come with his father to this
far Alaskan clime in the happiest expectation of adventures with bears
and Indians, always dear to the heart of a boy.
He was pretty tired of the sledge, having been in it since early
morning, and he was cold and hungry besides; so he was delighted when
the dogs stopped and his father said:
"Hop out, son, and stretch your legs. We'll try to find out where we are
before we go any farther."
Chetwoof meanwhile was interviewing the boy, who came quickly toward
them.
"Who are you?" demanded Chetwoof.
"Kalitan Tenas," was the brief reply.
"Where are we?" was the next question.
"Near to Pilchickamin River."
"Where is a camp?"
"There," said the boy, pointing toward a clump of pine-trees. "Ours."
Ted by this time was tired of his own unwonted silence, and he came up
to Kalitan, holding out his hand.
"My name is Ted Strong," he said, genially, grinning cheerfully at the
young Alaskan. "I say this is a jolly place. I wish you would teach me
to fish in a snow-hole. It must be great fun. I like you; let's be
friends!" Kalitan took the boy's hand in his own rough one.
"Mahsie" (thank you), he said, a sudden quick smile sweeping his dark
face like a fleeting sunbeam, but disappearing as quickly, leaving it
grave again. "Olo?" (hungry).
"Yes," said Mr. Strong, "hungry and cold."
"Camp," said Kalitan, preparing to lead the way, with the hospitality of
his tribe, for the Thlinkits are always ready to share food and fire
with any stranger. The two boys strode off together, and Mr. Strong
could scarcely help smiling at the contrast between them.
Ted was the taller, but slim even in the furs which almost smothered
him, leaving only his bright face exposed to the wind and weather. His
hair was a tangle of yellow curls which no parting could ever affect,
for it stood straight up from his forehead like a golden fleece; his
mother called it his aureole. His skin was fair as a girl's, and his
eyes as big and blue as a young Viking's; but the Indian boy's locks
were black as ink, his skin was swarthy, his eyes small and dark, and
his features that strange mixture of the Indian, the Esquimo, and the
Japanese which we often see in the best of our Alaskan cousins.
Boys, however, are boys all the world over, and friendly animals, and
Ted was soon chattering away to his newly found friend as if he had
known him all his life.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Kalitan," was the answer. "They call me Kalitan Tenas;[1] my father was
Tyee."
"Where is he?" asked Ted. He wanted to see an Indian chief.
"Dead," said Kalitan, briefly.
"I'm sorry," said Ted. He adored his own father, and felt it was hard on
a boy not to have one.
"He was killed," said Kalitan, "but we had blood-money from them," he
added, sternly.
"What's that?" asked Ted, curiously.
"Long time ago, when one man kill another, his clan must pay
with a life. One must be found from his tribe to cry,
'O-o-o-o-o-a-ha-a-ich-klu-kuk-ich-klu-kuk'" (ready to die, ready to
die). His voice wailed out the mournful chant, which was weird and
solemn and almost made Ted shiver. "But now," the boy went on, "Boston
men" (Americans) "do not like the blood-tax, so the murderer pays money
instead. We got many blankets and baskets and moneys for Kalitan Tyee.
He great chief."
"Do you live here?" asked Ted.
"No, live on island out there." Kalitan waved his hand seaward. "Come to
fish with my uncle, Klake Tyee. This good fishing-ground."
"It's a pretty fine country," said Ted, glancing at the scene, which
bore charm to other than boyish eyes. To the east were the mountains
sheltering a valley through which the frozen river wound like a silver
ribbon, widening toward the sea. A cold green glacier filled the valley
between two mountains with its peaks of beauty. Toward the shore, which
swept in toward the river's mouth in a sheltered cove, were clumps of
trees, giant fir, aspen, and hemlock, green and beautiful, while seaward
swept the waves in white-capped loveliness.
Kalitan ushered them to the camp with great politeness and considerable
pride.
"You've a good place to camp," said Mr. Strong, "and we will gladly
share your fire until we are warm enough to go on."
Ted's face fell. "Must we go right away?" he asked. "This is such a
jolly place."
"No go to-day," said Kalitan, briefly, to Chetwoof. "_Colesnass._"[2]
"Huh!" said Chetwoof. "Think some."
"Here comes my uncle," said Kalitan, and he ran eagerly to meet an old
Indian who came toward the camp from the shore. He eagerly explained the
situation to the Tyee, who welcomed the strangers with grave politeness.
He was an old man, with a seamed, scarred face, but kindly eyes. Chief
of the Thlinkits, his tribe was scattered, his children dead, and
Kalitan about all left to him of interest in life.
"There will be more snow," he said to Mr. Strong. "You are welcome. Stay
and share our fire and food."
"Do let us stay, father," cried Ted, and his father smiled indulgently,
but Kalitan looked at him in astonishment. Alaskan boys are taught to
hold their tongues and let their elders decide matters, and Kalitan
would never have dreamed of teasing for anything.
But Mr. Strong did not wish to face another snow-storm in the sledge,
and knew he could work but little till the storm was passed; so he
readily consented to stay a few days and let Ted see some real Alaskan
hunting and fishing.
Both boys were delighted, and soon had the camp rearranged to
accommodate the strangers. The fire was built up, Ted and Kalitan
gathering cones and fir branches, which made a fragrant blaze, while
Chetwoof cared for the dogs, and the old chief helped Mr. Strong pitch
his tent in the lee of some fragrant firs. Soon all was prepared and
supper cooking over the coals,--a supper of fresh fish and seal fat,
which Alaskans consider a great delicacy, and to which Mr. Strong added
coffee and crackers from his stores,--and Indians and whites ate
together in friendliness and amity.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Little Arrow.
[2] Snow.