THE NAMES PLACED UPON THE MOUNTAIN BY THE AUTHOR
There was no intent of putting names at all upon any portions of this
mountain when the expedition was undertaken, save that the author had it
in his mind to honor the memory of a very noble and very notable
gentlewoman who gave ten years of her life to the Alaskan natives, set
on foot one of the most successful educational agencies in the interior,
and died suddenly and heroically at her post of duty a few years since,
leaving a broad and indelible mark upon the character of a generation of
Indians. Miss Farthing lies buried high up on the bluffs opposite the
school at Nenana, in a spot she was wont to visit for the fine view of
Denali it commands, and her brother, the present bishop of Montreal, and
some of her colleagues of the Alaskan mission, have set a concrete cross
there. When we entered the Alaskan range by Cache Creek there rose
directly before us a striking pyramidal peak, some twelve or thirteen
thousand feet high. Not knowing that any name had been bestowed upon it,
the author discharged himself of the duty that he conceived lay upon him
of associating Miss Farthing's name permanently with the mountain range
she loved and the country in which she labored. But he has since learned
that Professor Parker placed upon this mountain, a year before, the name
of Alfred Brooks, of the Alaskan Geological Survey. Apart from the
priority of naming, to which, of course, he would immediately yield, the
author knows of no one whose name should so fitly be placed upon a peak
of the Alaskan range, and he would himself resist any effort to change
it.
Having gratified this desire, as he supposed, there had meantime arisen
another desire,--upon reading the narrative of the Parker-Browne
expedition of the previous year, a copy of which we were fortunate
enough to procure just as we were starting for the mountain. It was the
feeling of our whole company that the names of Professor Parker and Mr.
Belmore Browne should be associated with the mountain they so very
nearly ascended.
When the eyes are cast aloft from the head of the Muldrow Glacier the
most conspicuous feature of the view is a rudely conical tower of
granite, standing sentinel over the entrance to the Grand Basin, and at
the base of that tower is the pass into the upper glacier which is,
indeed, the key of the whole ascent of the mountain. (See illustration
opposite p. 40.)
[Sidenote: Tower, Pass, and Ridge]
We found no better place to set these names; we called the tower the
Browne Tower and the pass the Parker Pass. The "pass" may not, it is
true, conform to any strict Alpine definition of that term, but it gives
the only access to the glacier floor. From the ridge below to the
glacier above this place gives passage; and any place that gives passage
may broadly be termed a pass.
It was when this pass had been reached, after three weeks' toil, that
the author was moved to the bestowal of another name by his admiration
for the skill and pluck and perseverance of his chief colleague in the
ascent. Those who think that a long apprenticeship must be served under
skilled instructors before command of the technique of snow
mountaineering can be obtained would have been astonished at Karstens's
work on the Northeast Ridge. But it must be kept in mind that, while he
had no previous experience on the heights, he had many years of
experience with ice and snow--which is true of all of us except Tatum,
and _he_ had two winters' experience. In the course of winter travel in
the interior of Alaska most of the problems of snow mountaineering
present themselves at one time or another.
[Sidenote: Glacier]
The designation "Northeast," which the Parker-Browne party put upon the
ridge that affords passage from the lower glacier to the upper, is open
to question. Mr. Charles Sheldon, who spent a year around the base of
the mountain studying the fauna of the region, refers to the _outer_
wall of the Muldrow Glacier as the Northeast Ridge, that is, the wall
that rises to the North Peak. Perhaps "East Ridge of the South Peak"
would be the most exact description. But it is here proposed to
substitute Harry Karstens's name for points-of-the-compass designations,
and call the ridge, part of which the earthquake shattered, the dividing
ridge between the two arms of the Muldrow Glacier, soaring tremendously
and impressively with ice-incrusted cliffs in its lower course, the
Karstens Ridge. Regarded in its whole extent, it is one of the capital
features of the mountain. It is seen to the left in the picture opposite
page 26, where Karstens stands alone. At this point of its course it
soars to its greatest elevation, five or six thousand feet above the
glacier floor; it is seen again in the middle distance of the picture
opposite page 164.
Not until this book was in preparation and the author was digging into
the literature of the mountain did he discover the interesting
connection of Arthur Harper, father of Walter Harper, narrated in
another place, with Denali, and not until that discovery did he think of
suggesting the name Harper for any feature of the mountain, despite the
distinction that fell to the young man of setting the first foot upon
the summit. Then the upper glacier appeared to be the most appropriate
place for the name, and, after reflection, it is deemed not improper to
ask that this glacier be so known.
It has thus fallen out that each of the author's colleagues is
distinguished by some name upon the mountain except Robert Tatum. But to
Tatum belongs the honor of having raised the stars and stripes for the
first time upon the highest point in all the territory governed by the
United States; and he is well content with that distinction. Keen as the
keenest amongst us to reach the top, Tatum had none the less been
entirely willing to give it up and go down to the base camp and let
Johnny take his place (when he was unwell at the head of the glacier
owing to long confinement in the tent during bad weather), if in the
judgment of the writer that had been the wisest course for the whole
party. Fortunately the indisposition passed, and the matter is referred
to only as indicating the spirit of the man. I suppose there is no money
that could buy from him the little silk flag he treasures.
It was also while this book was preparing that the author found that he
had unwittingly renamed Mount Brooks, and the prompt withdrawal of his
suggested name for that peak left the one original desire of naming a
feature of the mountain or the range ungratified, and his obligation
toward a revered memory unfulfilled.
[Sidenote: Horns of the South Peak]
Where else might that name be placed? For a long time no place suggested
itself; then it was called to mind that the two horns at the extremities
of the horseshoe ridge of the South Peak were unnamed. Here were twin
peaks, small, yet lofty and conspicuous--part of the main summit of the
mountain. The naming of one almost carried with it the naming of the
other; and as soon as the name Farthing alighted, so to speak, from his
mind upon the one, the name Carter settled itself upon the other. In the
long roll of women who have labored devotedly for many years amongst the
natives of the interior of Alaska, there are no brighter names than
those of Miss Annie Farthing and Miss Clara Carter, the one forever
associated with Nenana, the other with the Allakaket. To those who are
familiar with what has been done and what is doing for the Indians of
the interior, to the white men far and wide who have owed recovery of
health and relief and refreshment to the ministrations of these capable
women, this naming will need no labored justification; and if
self-sacrifice and love, and tireless, patient labor for the good of
others be indeed the greatest things in the world, then the mountain top
bearing aloft these names does not so much do honor as is itself
dignified and ennobled. These horns of the South Peak are shown in the
picture opposite page 94; they are of almost equal height; the near one
the author would name the Farthing Horn, the far one the Carter Horn.
[Sidenote: Denali and His Wife]
And now the author finds that he has done what, in the past, he has
faulted others for doing--he has plastered a mountain with names. The
prerogative of name-giving is a dangerous one, without definite laws or
limitations. Nothing but common consent and usage ultimately establish
names, but he to whom falls the first exploration of a country, or the
first ascent of a peak, is usually accorded privilege of nomenclature.
Yet it is a privilege that is often abused and should be exercised with
reserve. Whether or not it has been overdone in the present case, others
must say. This, however, the author will say, and would say as
emphatically as is in his power: that he sets no store whatever by the
names he has ventured to confer comparable with that which he sets by
the restoration of the ancient native names of the whole great mountain
and its companion peak.
It may be that the Alaskan Indians are doomed; it may be that the liquor
and disease which to-day are working havoc amongst them will destroy
them off the face of the earth; it is common to meet white men who
assume it with complacency. Those who are fighting for the natives with
all their hearts and souls do not believe it, cannot believe it, cannot
believe that this will be the end of all their efforts, that any such
blot will foul the escutcheon of the United States. But if it be so, let
at least the memorial of their names remain. When the inhabited
wilderness has become an uninhabited wilderness, when the only people
who will ever make their homes in it are exterminated, when the
placer-gold is gone and the white men have gone also, when the last
interior Alaskan town is like Diamond City and Glacier City and Bearpaw
City and Roosevelt City; and Bettles and Rampart and Coldfoot; and
Cleary City and Delta City and Vault City and a score of others; let at
least the native names of these great mountains remain to show that
there once dwelt in the land a simple, hardy race who braved
successfully the rigors of its climate and the inhospitality of their
environment and flourished, until the septic contact of a superior race
put corruption into their blood. So this book shall end as it began.
[Illustration: Map Showing Route of the Stuck-Karstens Expedition to the
Summit of Mt. Denali (Mt. McKinley.) 1913]
Transcriber's Notes
Sidenotes were created from the unique headers on alternate pages of
the original text, with some minor amendments.
The following typos were corrected:
corrected: original: on page:
Iditarod Iditerod 5
La Voy LeVoy 41
La Voy Le Voy 97 (in footnote)
whatna whatna' 63 (twice)
nor or 103
Revillagigedo Revillegigedo 142
page 94 page 96 186
All Native American words were left with the accents given them
intact.
On page 38 a possible missing word "he" was not added due to
uncertainty about the author's intentions: "... but the dogs must be
tended, and the main food for them [he?] was yet to seek...."
The five instances of "base-camp" were changed to comply with common
usage: "base camp."