ST. MICHAEL
It is only when one ventures forth upon so large a subject that he
realizes how inadequate, how incomplete the result must be even after
he has done his best. He may just as well acknowledge his shortcomings
in the outset and crave his readers' indulgence. It is the truth that
there is no man living who can or has the right to attempt to speak of
Alaska as a whole. A man might travel continuously for a whole year,
using every means of expedition at his command, not wasting a day
anywhere, journeying by land or sea, in winter and summer, taking
advantage of the "last ice" and the "first water," and yet he could not
begin to cover the country. In the far-distant corners, hidden away
from the eyes of man, one will come upon the scattered missions of the
various churches to reach which one must journey thousands of miles!
So, whenever a man from Nome speaks of Alaska he means that part of it
which he himself knows,--the Seward Peninsula. The man from Cordova,
or Valdez, talks of the Prince William Sound country and calls it
Alaska! The man from Juneau speaks of Alaska, but all that he means is
the southeastern coast. This is why so much that is written of the
country is contradictory. In fact, Alaska is not one but many
countries! And the various parts differ radically from each other.
Nature has separated them each from the other by obstacles almost
insuperable. They have different interests, different problems. Their
climate is not the same, nor their resources, nor their population.
Thus what is true of one part of Alaska may be (and often is) absurdly
untrue of another part.
Because much of my own experience here has centered about St. Michael
and because the little island is so large a part of the country's
fragmentary history I am indulging myself in the pleasure of telling
her story. When the Russian-American company was under the
administration of that able and high-minded official, Baron von
Wrangell, Michael Trebenkoff was sent out to establish a trading-post
on Norton Sound. In 1833 he built Redoubt St. Michael, putting it under
the protection of his patron Archangel. It was the second Russian port
on Bering Sea, Nushayak, in Bristol Bay, having been founded in 1818.
It is a quaint, historic little island, about twenty-two miles long and
six miles wide. It has one mountain, an extinct volcano, in the center
and is separated from the mainland by a narrow channel. The latter was
utterly useless for shipping, and a few years ago the government spent
quite an amount of money widening and improving it in order that, by
its use, the worst part of the sea voyage from St. Michael to the Yukon
river might be avoided. But it was misdirected effort. The boats do not
use it because of its narrowness. The canal, at the mouth of which is a
beacon, leads by a wandering course into St. Michael's Bay. I one day
asked Captain Polte, an old officer of one of the vessels, why the
canal was not used. "Well," he replied laconically, "we can't use it
when it's windy and when there's no wind we don't need it!" Reason
enough.
[Illustration: THE AUTHOR DRESSED FOR THE TRAILS AT KOTLICK, MOUTH OF
THE YUKON]
[Illustration: AN ISLAND ON WHICH IS LOCATED ONE OF THE FINEST FOX
FARMS IN ALASKA]
[Illustration: NEARLY TWENTY THOUSAND FURS READY FOR SHIPMENT]
Some of the old log buildings on St. Michael still stand, mute
reminders of the day when the little island belonged to Russia. On a
point of rock one may still see the small octagonal block house inside
of which the diminutive but still-defiant rusty cannon arouse the
interest of all visitors. In the stormy pioneer days, so we are told,
these little six-pounders more than once proved effective when the post
was in danger. They were considered sufficiently historic to be
exhibited at the Seattle Exposition in 1909.
This is neither the time nor the place to record the story of the
Klondike stampede, but that part of it which affected the island may be
here related. When almost in the twinkling of an eye the desolate coast
of Bering Sea became a veritable highway of nations, when all the
available shipping facilities of the Pacific coast were soon exhausted,
when ships from the Atlantic began coming around the Horn, when every
part of the Pacific began to hum with Alaskan business,--the tide of
traffic found it necessary to separate. One part of it sailed through
the Inside Passage to Skagway. The other took the Outside Passage and
entered through St. Michael. It is not a very convenient port, it is
true, but it is the best there is. To St. Michael came all the heavy
merchandise, the immense stocks of goods for trading and for individual
use. This port thus became the gateway to the fabulously rich gold
fields of the Yukon. St. Michael is, therefore, a large part of the
history of the Klondike stampede.
The White Pass and Yukon Company is a transportation company which has
operated for several years on the Yukon with headquarters at Dawson,
Yukon Territory. This company believed that the best method of shipping
supplies to Alaska would be to bring them in by way of Skagway, then
over the White Pass and Yukon Railroad to Dawson, transferring them
there to the White Pass boats and barges and floating them thence
_down_ the river to points in the interior. The Northern Navigation
Company brought its freight to St. Michael by way of the Pacific Ocean
and Bering Sea. It was then loaded on boats and barges and pushed _up_
the river. What was a disadvantage to the White Pass people was a
distinct advantage to the Northern Navigation Company. This was the
fact that the lower part of the Yukon River below Lake Lebarge was free
from ice from a month to six weeks earlier than that part of the river
which lay between Lake Lebarge and Dawson. The method of the White Pass
and Yukon Company held an unquestionable advantage in the saving of
fuel. But as the greater number of the principal mining towns and
supply points for the different mining districts lay _below_ Lake
Lebarge it was but natural that large shipments of freight for early
summer delivery were consigned to the Northern Navigation Company, at
St. Michael. A great rivalry sprang up between these two companies.
Keen competition followed. But it was soon realized that each was
working under difficulties which ought to be and could be remedied.
The White Pass and Yukon Company was dependent upon the river
transportation for existence. So a merger of the two seemed vital to
the interests of both. In June, 1914, the White Pass and Yukon Company
bought out the Northern Navigation Company, thus securing a monopoly of
the Yukon from source to mouth. The result has been that the greater
portion of the freight now shipped into the interior of Alaska is taken
over the White Pass road and then floated down the river. This has
seriously affected St. Michael, of course, as it has deprived this once
busy little city of the greater part of her revenue.
As is the case in all new countries many of the companies organized
during this busy period in Alaska's history have now passed out of
existence, due, no doubt, to too great haste in the beginning. The
Alaska Commercial Company was not slow in realizing the good fortune
which had come to her. All the business so suddenly born of the lure of
the gold fields was tossed into her lap. She had to build extensive
shipyards, install machine shops and build river craft. Stores,
warehouses, dwellings and an hotel were built at St. Michael. Rival
companies were organized,--the Alaska Exploration Company, the Alaska
Development Company, and many others. Only two of these survived for
any length of time, however. One was a Chicago concern--the North
American Trading and Transportation Company. The other was the Northern
Navigation Company. For a while these flourished. The establishment of
the former was across the Bay of St. Michael and was a little town in
itself. The latter was on the island. To-day, these, too, have passed.
The enterprises were not a success in recent years, and the plants are
deserted.
St. Michael lies about a hundred and twenty-five miles south of Nome.
It is hugged by the sea and therefore gets a certain amount of "damp"
cold in winter instead of the "strong" or the "still" cold of the
interior. Also, during the winter it is sometimes tragically
stormy--terrific high winds with no forests to break them. In summer,
however, it is delightful and most picturesque. It is covered by the
tundra--Russian moss--always fresh and beautiful, lying over the island
like a robe of soft green velvet. Plank sidewalks line the streets,
extending to the Army Post, and where the sidewalks end the walking
ends also in summer. To step off is to sink ankle deep in the soft
green moss.
Under the chapter devoted to the native races the subject of the
natives on St. Michael will be more fully dealt with. In other sections
of Alaska the natives are largely Indians. Here only the Eskimo is to
be seen. The visitor will encounter him everywhere in summer--in the
streets, loafing in the stores, beaching or launching his boat on the
water front, clad in the native costume, the _parka_, made of drill in
summer and of fur, beautiful in design, in winter, shod in _mukluks_.
At every turn one will find their handiwork for sale--carved ivories
from walrus tusks, baskets, fur boots. Should one wish an ivory
cribbage board there is no other place, with the possible exception of
Nome, where he will find so large a variety from which to choose. As
for the Eskimo woman,--well, in the far places of the world where there
is little civilization and no pretense whatever on the part of humanity
to be other than wholly natural one soon becomes accustomed to the
unusual! There is no commoner sight in St. Michael than that of the
native mother sitting in the street unconcernedly feeding her baby
(sometimes two of them) after Nature's most primitive and wholesome
method!