THE ALL-ALASKA SWEEPSTAKES
No story of Alaska would be complete unless it included reference to
that most vital element of all the Northland, the Alaskan dog. I once
heard a story of an old Southern planter who said:
"Whenevah Ah meet up with a man who says he don' like a niggah, Ah
always set it down that he nevah _owned_ one!"
I can truthfully say the same about a dog. Ever since the days when
Ulysses roamed the seas man has loved his dog. Dearest (and most
valuable) to the heart of an Alaskan is his "Malamut" or "Husky," as
the Alaskan dog is usually designated. So intelligent that he is almost
human, strong as a young ox, oblivious (apparently) to the cold,--he is
a part of the land itself! His importance to the life of the North can
not be over-estimated. He carries the mail into far regions which but
for him would be closed to the outside world for many months of the
year.
"An I should live a thousand years," as Shakespeare puts it, I could
never forget a leader I once had. I called him "Paddie." During one
long, cold winter we went to Andreafsky, distant a hundred and twenty
miles from St. Michael, to take the mail. I can see him yet, at the
head of the thirty-three dog team, pulling us swiftly over the hard,
white snow. At night when I would wrap myself in my sleeping-bag and
lie down to sleep, Paddie never failed to come and lie beside me,
snuggling as closely as possible to keep me warm. I _could_ not forget,
if I tried, his faithfulness and affection, and I do not wish to. I
think of him many times, often have dreamed of him and sometimes have
talked to him in my sleep.
But laying aside all sentiment in regard to his dogs, a man would
indeed be helpless in the north country without them. Into far and
almost inaccessible regions which no other beast could penetrate and
where neither man nor vehicle could enter unaided, the dogs run nimbly,
pulling a sled behind them. Many and dramatic (and true!) are the
stories of the arrival of a dog team in the nick of time with food and
supplies for a distant, snowed-in camp the members of which would have
starved but for their coming.
Reference will be made in another chapter to the wonderful part our
dogs are now playing in the great World War. Alaskans have never
failed to appreciate what they owe them, but it is only within
comparatively recent years that they have realized their real value.
Nothing in the history of the country has been of more value to Alaska
than the Dog Derby, the "All-Alaska Sweepstakes," as the dog races are
called.
Albert Fink, an attorney at Nome, one day overheard a bet between two
men as to the speed of their respective dog teams. As he owned some
fine dogs himself, he conceived the idea of having a real Derby,
matching the teams for the love of the sport itself. Calling together
all the dog lovers and dog owners of the community, he put the
suggestion before them. The result was the organization of the Nome
Kennel Club, a society the purpose of which was to foster the races.
The latter were to be known as the "All-Alaska Sweepstakes," and as
such the races have been known ever since. The club was organized and
conducted just as jockey clubs are. Rules and regulations were drawn
up, officers elected, and a purse of fifteen thousand dollars collected
for the first race.
Some one has ventured the opinion that nothing on earth could ever have
made the city of Nome except the very thing that did make it,--the
discovery of gold in the sand on the beach! Be that as it may, it is
safe to say that since that discovery nothing has ever equaled the
interest it created until the first dog race was held in 1908.
Men talked of nothing else. On the day of the race the stores, banks
and offices were deserted and it is a fact that the District Court was
forced to adjourn. Witnesses, jurors and attorneys failed to appear.
All went to the races. Thousands of dollars were wagered on the dogs,
thousands more on the men who drove them. It was a day of great
excitement and enthusiasm.
The course was from Nome, on Bering Sea, across Seward Peninsula to
Candle and back,--a distance of four hundred and ten miles. The first
race was a great event. One of the conditions was that the whole team
must return to the starting-point. The weather was most severe and some
of the dogs froze to death. It is no uncommon sight in Alaska to see an
intrepid driver, in harness himself, helping to bring back in the sled
the disabled dogs which have become incapacitated by accident or
sickness. The man who loses a dog is out of the race, no matter what
the cause of the loss may be. The rules provide, however, that after
being certified at Candle, the turning-point, the dog does not
necessarily have to be _driven_ back. But the whole team must return.
The winning team of the first race were Malamuts owned by Albert Fink,
driven by John Hegness. They made the distance in a hundred and
nineteen hours, fifteen minutes and twenty-two seconds. The winning
team was closely followed by one driven by the now-famous "Scotty"
Allen and which made the course in a hundred and twenty hours, seven
minutes and fifty-two seconds. Three hours elapsed before the third
team came in.
The small margin of time between the first and second teams made the
race, which took days to finish, of unusual interest. There was great
uncertainty almost up to the last moment. But the race was regarded as
a success and the event became a fixture. Heretofore, while there had
been much discussion as to the breeding of racing dogs, it had been
largely theoretical. Now men who owned dogs began to put their minds on
it seriously.
The purse of fifteen thousand dollars collected for the first race was
awarded in three prizes. Ten thousand went to the winner, three
thousand to the second and two thousand to the third team. It was
supposed when the amount was collected that it would be amply
sufficient to tempt dog owners to become fanciers and to induce the
importation and breeding of faster and better dogs. But the sum was
found to be inadequate. The total purse fell far short of the amount
necessary to assemble, feed, train and condition a team.
The following year there were numerous entries for the second race. And
they were not confined to wealthy dog owners, by any means. Miners, fur
traders, mail carriers, to say nothing of the first delegate to
Congress, entered the contest. This time "Scotty" Allen came in for his
own. He drove his team himself and lowered the time to eighty-two
hours, two minutes and forty-two seconds,--thirty-seven hours less than
the time the first race had consumed.
Perhaps the most interesting personage in connection with the early dog
racing in Alaska is Fox Ramsey. He is an Englishman, the brother of
Lord Dalhousie. He was what is commonly known as a Cheechaco,--in other
words, a tenderfoot. He was unused to the ways of the trail, and what
he did _not_ know about handling dogs would fill a book. But he was a
good sport. So he entered his team of Malamuts in the second race and
drove them himself. He took any amount of chaff from the local drivers
and the amusement of the latter was certainly justified. _Several
weeks_ after the race was over Ramsey drove up to the finishing post
and with the utmost good humor notified the judges that his team had
arrived!
The old saying, however, that "he who laughs last laughs best" is
peculiarly applicable to Fox Ramsey. He chartered a schooner bound for
Siberia. When he returned, as some one has already recorded, "Siberian
huskies howled from every port hole." The crowd which had found so much
merriment in his racing team of the previous year laughed louder than
ever. They took not the slightest interest in the training of his dogs.
Ramsey kept his own counsel. When the time came he entered the race.
Then came Ramsey's turn to laugh. He took both first and second money!
Not only that, he broke the record. The new one was astonishing. He
covered the course in seventy-four hours, fourteen minutes and
twenty-two seconds.
The good Alaskans, as always, showed the right spirit. Their amusement
changed to admiration. All existing theories as to the best breeds for
racing had been completely upset. Ramsey is now at the front "somewhere
in France" fighting for his country--and ours! Here's to him!
It is the hope, of course, of every fancier to perfect a breed which
will lower the record still more, and many hope to prove that the
descendants of the wolf are best adapted to the needs of the country.
There is a new breed which is now being watched with interest,--the
stag-and fox-hound. It has proved excellent for speed in short races
but has not yet been able to hold out over the long course
of the Sweepstakes. Another experiment is with the Russian
wolf-hound,--beautiful dogs these are, but with courage as yet
untested.
There is great difference of opinion as to the relative merits of the
various breeds, and since the third race the Derby has settled down to
a contest between those who believe in the superiority of the
fox-hound, bird dog and Malamut cross as pitted against the
pure-blooded Siberians.
Those who have never trained or watched over the training and
conditioning of a team of racing dogs would find it a most interesting
experience. The food of the dogs, like that of a child, is carefully
watched over. It consists at first of dog-salmon, corn and cornmeal
mush, rice and bacon. Later this is changed to a more strengthening
diet. They are fed chopped beef, mutton and eggs. Also, one who has
never visited Alaska would open his eyes wide if he could see the
kennels where the dogs are kept. In fact, one sometimes wonders whether
the human inhabitants are as comfortable. To get a team in condition
requires the combined efforts of a large retinue of trainers, drivers
and helpers. The driver who is to pilot the first team of a kennel
devotes his time and attention to the choice few of some twenty or
thirty dogs. The helpers and second string drivers keep the remainder
in fit condition so as to develop and gait those which must be ready to
substitute in case any one of the first lot proves unequal to the
qualifications for entry,--speed, soundness, courage.
It has often happened that dogs the fame of which has spread not only
over Alaska but over all the world have developed from the second
string. One such was Baldy of Nome, the hero of a book written by his
owner, Mrs. C. E. Darling, commonly known as "The Darling of the Dogs."
Baldy is old now,--a pensioner. He lives in ease and luxury at the
California estate of his mistress. His story is interesting. He was
rejected at first as being not of sufficient caliber for the first
team. Whether the rejection spurred him to renewed effort I do not
know. But he proceeded to prove his worth. He won his way from wheel of
the second team to leader of the first team. Baldy occupies a warm spot
in every Alaskan heart. He worked up from the ranks,--a "self-made"
dog, so to speak, and proved his courage, his sagacity, his strength,
and his endurance. One of the most interesting things about him is that
he now possesses the largest service flag of any one of my
acquaintance. Twenty-eight of his sons and grandsons went to the Vosges
to "do their bit," and Baldy now wears the _Croix de Guerre_ bestowed
upon them by the French government!
Of the now-famous dogs of the Derby mention must be made of Dubby. He
was the first "loose" leader ever developed in Alaska and the best. He
was almost human in intelligence. He ran free from the tow line. He
would take his place proudly at the head of his team, with no restraint
of tow or leash, observing the spoken commands with instant obedience.
From his position of authority at the head of the team, by incessant
yelping and playful antics, he would encourage the others, and woe to
any one of them that proved the laggard! Dubby promptly punished him.
He would run back, bark and then nip him until the offender was only
too glad to return to duty and resume gait. Other dogs which have won
fame in the Derby are (1) Jack McMillan, a leader belonging to Albert
Fink; (2) Rex, a pacer; (3) The Blatchford Blues, two thoroughbred
Llewellyn setters, wonderful both as to speed and intelligence; (4)
Kalma, a beautiful, white-eyed, black-coated Siberian who has proved
the most lasting campaigner of them all.
Not to the dogs alone, however, much as we love them, is due the credit
for the success of the Alaskan Derby. Too much can not be said for the
trainers and drivers. All of them were men deeply versed in dog lore.
They had made a study of many years' duration and were imbued with
theories as to the training and conditioning of dogs,--theories as
varied as were the breeds of the dogs themselves. These men were
knights of the trail, inured to hardship, fleet and sure of foot,
gifted both with physical endurance and courage to which no words can
do justice. Mention has already been made of "Scotty" Allen. He is
known to every man, woman and child on Seward Peninsula. He has been in
every race except the last one, either with a team of his own or one
owned jointly by himself and Mrs. Darling. He developed and owns the
two famous leaders, Dubby and Buddy, and their reputation is
world-wide.
To "Scotty" Allen the French Government entrusted the responsibility of
choosing and transporting to France more than a hundred of the
Sweepstake dogs. Further reference will be made to their noble work on
the war-swept fields of Europe where, with a courage and daring
equaled only by their human brothers, they carry ammunition and
supplies far into the mountains,--often to remote and seemingly
inaccessible spots where the soldiery could not penetrate without them.
It was because of this mission that Allen was unable to enter the last
race and as he has recently been elected to the Alaskan Legislature he
will also be deprived of the privilege of entering this year. The
session is held at the same time as the Derby. In any other country the
latter might be postponed. Here it is not possible. It is a matter of
much regret that the Derby can not be made a territorial affair. This
was the original intention, as the name, All-Alaska Sweepstakes,
indicates. But it proved impossible. The race could not be held after
the spring break-up. It must have the hard spring trail and the cold
weather, and the trainers must have the whole of the winter for the
training and conditioning of the dogs. Therefore, April must be the
month and, regrettable as the fact is, this prevents teams from
Fairbanks, Iditarod and other Alaskan towns from entering. The men from
these sections could not well take chances on the disappearance of the
trail by an early thaw before they could return home again for the
spring clean-ups. But almost every Alaskan town now has its own Kennel
Club, small or large as the case may be, and all are actively alive to
the sport. Moreover, the "Outside" is by no means indifferent. Many
contributions to the purse come each year to the Nome Kennel Club.
Trophies for the different races, usually cups, are, almost without
exception, the gifts of men in the United States who are devotees of
the sport. Unable to participate themselves, they like to aid and
encourage the event. The latest trophy, and the one which
unquestionably will be most sought after this year, is the cup
presented by John Borden, Chicago sportsman and millionaire, who joined
the Club last summer while in Nome. This cup is for a new
contest,--extreme speed being the object. The course is to cover
twenty-six miles, three hundred yards. It must be run under perfect
conditions, it being the object and the desire of both donor and Club
to learn how fast a dog team can actually travel without obstacles. The
winner each year will be given a small cup, and the big trophy must be
won three times in succession before it becomes the property of the
winner.
In addition to Allen and Ramsey, other drivers have made substantial
but less spectacular winnings. Two of these are the Johnson brothers
and another is Leonard Sepalla. Their dogs were Siberians, driven in a
long string, fifteen to twenty-six to a team. These men have marvelous
records for endurance, as has also Peter Berg, a mail carrier. The
latter did a hundred and thirty miles without a stop for food or rest.
The last thirty miles was made in harness, and in snow shoes, with what
was left of his badly used-up team. Then, after hauling a large part of
his frost-bitten and exhausted dogs to the finishing post he found that
he had been beaten to second money by a man who had ridden four hundred
miles behind his untiring and seemingly inexhaustible Siberians.
If the Alaskan Derby had had but one result,--that of developing a
superior race of dogs--it would have been invaluable to Alaska. But it
has done one other thing in which every dog lover rejoices. It has not
only benefited the racing dog. It has materially benefited the
condition of the working dog. The old rule of feeding an exhausted and
over-worked team "buckskin soup" no longer goes in Alaska. Very few
drivers now have the temerity to abuse a dog. It has been proved beyond
doubt that better results come from kindness and care than can possibly
be obtained by neglect or brutal treatment.
So, after many years' sojourn in the country, I paraphrase the saying
of the old Southern planter. I affirm that he who does not love a dog
never owned one! Here's to them,--dumb heroes of the trackless
wilderness and the gigantic snow fields! Over the frozen wastes they
cheerfully pull both driver and load for thousands of miles and come up
smiling when the end of the long journey is reached. Into their
masters' deepest affections they unconsciously walk and "stay put."
They become his most sympathetic companions, comrades and friends. And
the news which from time to time reaches us from "over there" where our
canine heroes are doing their "bit" in a manner little short of
miraculous goes straight to our hearts. Yes. The dog has come into his
own. And all Alaska rejoices that it is so. Over a kingdom of devoted
subjects he reigns supreme!