NEW QUARTERS.
After thinking for some time of doing so, I finally decided to call at
the hotel and ask the captain and his wife if I might not teach their
little black-eyed girl English, as Miss J.'s leaving deprives her of a
teacher. The woman was not in when I called, but the child's father
seemed to think favorably of my plan, and said he would consult with his
wife, so I hope to get the child for a pupil.
B. and G. have moved all their things into the house from the
schoolroom, and Ricka hung the clothes she has been all day washing out
there to dry. There is a small stove in which a fire is often made to
dry them more quickly. It is most convenient to have such a place for
drying clothes, as it is impossible to get them dry outside on the lines
in the frost and snow.
We spent the evening pleasantly together in the sitting room, listening
to B.'s jokes, and Mary's stories of Nome and the "trail."
For our Thanksgiving dinner we had canned turkey, potatoes, tomatoes,
pickles, fruit, soup, bread, butter, and coffee, trying hard not to
think of our home friends and their roast turkeys and cranberries.
However, the dinner was a good one for Alaska, eaten with relish, and
all were jolly and very thankful, even M., with his sore collar-bone,
laughing with the rest.
November thirtieth: Mr. H. came with a man, two natives, seven reindeer
and four sleds to take more furniture away. They all ate dinner here,
and I took some kodak views of the animals with Alma, Ricka, Mary, G.
and a native driver in the sunshine in front of the Mission. Mary goes
up to the animals and pets them, as does Ricka, but I keep a good way
off from their horns, as they look ugly, and one old deer has lost his
antlers, with the exception of one bare, straight one a yard long,
which, with an angry beast behind it, would, however, be strong enough
to toss a person in mid-air if the creature was so minded.
There has been some hitch in the arrangements of the men going to the
Koyuk River, and there is a delay, but they will get off some day,
because L. never gives up anything he attempts to do, and I like him for
that. If more people were like this, they being always certain that they
were started in the right direction, the world would be the better for
it.
December first: Mr. B. is making bunks in two rooms upstairs, as the
house is so full all the time. This will give quite a little more
lodging room, for cots cannot be provided for all, neither is there
room for so many, but with bunks, one above another, it will furnish
lodgings for all who come.
Our two fisher women went out again this afternoon, and got tom-cod
through the ice by the cliff, near the snow-buried river steamers.
About four o'clock in the afternoon I called on the captain's wife, and
found her sewing furs. For her helper she had her cousin Alice, the coy,
plump Eskimo girl, who traveled to San Francisco with her last year.
Both women sat upon fur rugs on the floor, as is their custom when
sewing, and they were sorting bright beads, and cutting moosehide into
moccasins and gauntlet gloves, to be decorated with beads in the fashion
of the Yukon River Indians.
I had no difficulty in arranging for lessons with the captain's wife,
who would also study with her little girl, she said, and she showed me
school books, slates, etc., they had already been using. If their piano
were only here, the child, who is a pretty little thing, with a sweet
smile, might take music lessons, but it cannot be brought over the
winter trail.
We had snow today, but no church service. We rested, sang, read, ate and
slept. A fine dinner of reindeer roast, with good gravy, mashed
potatoes, etc., for our two o'clock meal, was eaten and well relished;
but in spite of all the day seemed a long one for some reason. We wonder
how things are going on the outside and if the friends we love but
cannot hear from are well, happy, and think sometimes of us.
The Commissioner came to say that he would bring the Recorder, or
Commissioner, from the Koyuk district with him to call this evening, and
he did so. The latter is a middle-aged man, whose family lives in
Minneapolis, Minnesota, he himself being a native born Norwegian, but
having lived in the States for twenty years. They brought two United
States marshals with them, and one of them played on the guitar quite
well, though I thought I detected a scent of the bottle when he sang his
songs. He has a good voice, but untrained.
Yesterday it was fifteen degrees below zero, but grew warmer toward
night, and began snowing. Today it snowed quite hard until dark. Along
the shore huge blocks of ice lay heaped promiscuously, and deep drifts
rolled smoothly everywhere. When I grew tired walking I stopped a moment
and listened. There was no sound but the beating of my own heart. This
then was our new Arctic world. How wonderfully beautiful it was in its
purity and stillness. Look whichever way I would, all was perfect
whiteness and silence. When I walked the snow scarcely creaked under my
feet. Above, beneath, around, it was everywhere the same. It was a
solemn stillness, but ineffably sweet and tender. It was good to live. A
feeling of sweetest peace and happiness swept over me, and tears sprang
to my eyes. Was this heaven? It almost seemed like it, but glancing
toward the grave of the murdered man on the hillside I remembered that
this could not be. Farther down the shore line, when I started to go
home, I saw the smoke of the cabins, through the veil of the snowflakes.
[Illustration: WINTER PROSPECTING.]
While giving Jennie her lessons this afternoon the Commissioner came in
to say that he would like me to do some copying for him, for as yet he
has no clerk, and needs one. I told him I would do the work if I might
take it home, and could get a quiet corner by myself. I hardly see how I
am to manage that while there are so many people in the house, but I
shall try it, for I would like to earn the money.
This morning it was three degrees above zero; yesterday it was fifteen
below.
A full moon hung high in the sky this morning until nine o'clock.
Weather is warm and beautiful, with rosy clouds at sunrise, but it grew
colder by noon.
Among other things Mary has brought from Nome is her little hand sewing
machine, which is an old-fashioned thing, to be fastened to a table and
the wheel turned by hand. It was brought from the old country, and looks
quite well worn, but is still useful and far better than no machine, if
it does have a chain stitch which is liable to rip easily. We have a lot
of amusement with this machine, for when Alma is sewing and one of the
boys happens to be idle about her she makes him turn the wheel while
she guides the cloth and watches the needle.
Others besides myself are wearing muckluks by this time, though not all
have come to them, the felt shoes being worn in the house some by the
girls until severe cold forces them into the native boots of reindeer
skin.
In her rooms at the hotel Mollie sits with Alice each day on the fur
rugs, cutting, sewing and beading moccasins and moosehide gloves. A
regular workshop it is. Boxes of thread, beads, scraps of fur, whole
otter skins, paper patterns, shears, bits of hair and fur scattered upon
the floor, and the walls covered with hanging fur garments; this is the
sewing-room of the captain's wife as it is now each day when I go there.
The room contains two large windows, one on the north side and one on
the west, at which hang calico curtains tied back with blue ribbons in
daytime. These women work very rapidly, with the thimble upon the first
finger and by pushing the three-cornered skin needle deftly through
skins they are sewing. The thread they use for this work is made by them
from the sinews of reindeer, and takes hours of patient picking and
rolling between fingers and palms to get spliced and properly twisted,
but when finished is very strong and lasting. Their sewing and bead work
is quite pretty and unique, and is done with exceeding neatness and
care, though not much attention is bestowed upon colors.
Friday, December seventh, has been a busy day all round. L. and B.
started off early after breakfast on a prospecting trip, and the girls
kept at their sewing. Mr. H. came from the Home to get the sewing
machine and some lumber, and was packing up nearly all day, so that we
are still quite unsettled, but it is much pleasanter for him to come to
a warm house and where he gets hot meals after his twelve miles over the
ice with the deer or dogs.
He left here at four in the afternoon and had been gone only an hour
when Mr. F. and another man came from Nome, on the way to the Koyuk.
Getting well warmed and eating a hearty supper, which was much enjoyed
after some days on the trail, they started with two reindeer and as many
sleds for the Home, which is on the way to Koyuk. Another hour passed
and two women and their guide from White Mountain came in, these
belonging to the same party as the last men going to the Koyuk, and
these three had to remain over night as it was too late to push on
further. The men brought their fur robes and blankets from their sleds,
threw them into the bunks in the west room, and called it a good lodging
place compared to the cramped and disorderly roadhouses upon the trails.
December eighth: We had a fire fright this morning, which was not
enjoyed by any one in the Mission. Mary had gotten up early, and two
fires were already going, one in the kitchen range and one in the
sitting room heater near my bed. It was still dark at half-past seven
and I was awake, thinking seriously of dressing myself, though there was
no hurry, for Mary was the only one yet up, when I saw a shower of large
sparks of fire or burning cinders falling to the ground outside the
window. I rushed into the kitchen telling Mary what I had seen, and she
ran outside and looked up toward the chimney. Fire, smoke and cinders
poured out in a stream, but she satisfied herself it was soot burning in
the sitting-room chimney.
Coming in, she pulled most of the wood from the heater, scattered salt
upon the coals, and by this time all in the house were down stairs,
asking what had happened.
M. says he will also take my attorney paper and stake a claim for me, as
he has decided to go to the Koyuk with the men who came last night from
Nome. They have a horse, but as it is almost worn to the bone and nearly
starved, they hardly think he can travel much farther. M. wants me to
get him some location notices from the Commissioner when I see him. When
coming home from Jennie's lesson this afternoon I was turning the corner
of the hotel when the wind took me backward toward the bay for thirty
feet or more, and deposited me against an old wheelbarrow turned bottom
upwards in the snow. To this I clung desperately, keeping my presence of
mind enough to realize my danger if blown out upon the ice fifty feet
away and below me, where I would be unable to make myself either seen
or heard in the blinding storm and would soon be buried in the snow
drifts and frozen.
In my right hand I carried my small leather handbag containing a dozen
or more deeds and other documents to be recorded for the Commissioner,
and if the wind blew this from my hand for an instant I was surely
undone, for it would never be recovered. I now clung to the barrow until
I had regained my breath and then made a quick dash for the lee or south
side of the hotel out of the gale, and into the living-room again. Here
I sat down to rest, trembling and breathless, to consider the best way
to get home. It was now dark, the snow blinding, and the gale from the
northeast fearful. A stout young Eskimo sat near me, and I finally asked
him to take me home, to which he consented.
The Mission was only a few hundred feet away, but to reach it we had to
go directly into the teeth of the storm, which was coming from the
northeast.
Not six feet ahead of us could we see, but I trusted to the sense of my
Eskimo guide to lead me safely home, and he did it. Motioning me to
follow him, he proceeded to pass through the building and out the east
end entrance, notwithstanding that he led me directly through the
bar-room of the hotel, where the idlers stared wonderingly at me. Once
outside the door, he grasped my right arm firmly and we started, but he
kept his body a little ahead of me, and with side turned from the
blizzard instead of facing it.
In this sidelong way we struggled on with all our strength, through snow
drifts, against the elements in the darkness, with breath blown from our
bodies, and eyes blinded by whirling snow. Now and again I was forced to
stop to gain breath for a fresh struggle, and when we reached the
Mission we staggered into the door as if drunken. I now found that all
my clothing was blown so full of fine snow that the latter seemed fairly
a part of the cloth, would not be shaken out, and only a thorough drying
would answer. A good, hot cup of coffee was handed to each of us, and my
Eskimo guide sat until rested, but I think I shall take Alma's sage
advice, and in future remain at home during blizzards.
Of course M. and the other men could not leave for the Koyuk as they
intended, but they do not appear to be discontented at having to remain
under our roof longer, as they seem to be enjoying themselves very well,
and say it is all really home-like here in the Mission.
I am working on the Recorder's books, and like the work fairly well.
This is a stormy Sunday, December ninth, but the weather is not so bad
as yesterday, and B. and L. came back from the Home. We have eight men
here today, including the two young fellows who have been at work on the
Home building, and who came over from Nome weeks before the rest of us.
This is the first time they have been here since we arrived. They, too,
are Swedes, as are all these men but M., who is a Finlander.
For dinner we had reindeer roast with flour gravy, potatoes, plum
butter, rye and white bread and butter, coffee and tapioca pudding. The
potatoes taste pretty sweet from being frozen, but are better than none.
We have had music from the guitar, mandolin and organ, besides vocal
exercise without limit, and with all this I found time to do some Sunday
reading in Drummond's Year Book, and have well enjoyed the day.
The thermometer registers thirteen degrees below zero, and at half-past
eight in the evening the wind was not blowing much; enough blizzard for
this time certainly.
While talking with one of the men from Nome I asked if he supposed there
was gold in the Koyuk country, and he thought there was. As he was up
there all last summer, he ought to know the prospects. It appears that
there is a split in his party, or a disagreement of some kind, as is
quite the fashion in Alaska, and some of the men are to remain behind.
As soon as the weather clears sufficiently they will go to the Home, and
from there leave for Koyuk River.
Monday, December tenth: The Commissioner, the Marshal, and three of
their friends came in to spend the evening with us, and one of the
strangers sang well, accompanying himself on the organ. He also belongs
to a party made up to go to Koyuk, but failed to reach that point, and
they are staying in Chinik.
I bought two red fox skins today for ten dollars, but will have to pay
five dollars more for their cleaning by a native woman, to whom I have
given them for that purpose. It is the only kind of fur I can find of
which to make a coat, and I must have one of skins, as the wind goes
straight through cloth, no matter how thick it is.
Six of our household went out today to get wood with the old horse and
sled, but the poor creature would not go, probably because it could not.
They had to unload a good many times and were gone five hours. Alma and
Ricka went with the four boys for an outing, but all came home tired and
voting the horse a great failure.
This morning our house was astir very early, and the men were getting
ready to "mush on" towards the Koyuk. Mr. L. goes with the Marshal, the
clerk, and two others, taking seven dogs and sleds loaded with
provisions. It is a sight to see the preparations. There are sacks of
frozen tom-cod for the dogs, tents, Yukon stoves, tin dishes, snow
shoes, sleeping bags and robes, coffee pots, axes, picks, gold pans and
boxes, cans and bags of grub, ad infinitum.
G. and B. stay behind to make another camp stove but will leave soon
for Nome. B. cleaned his gun today, and looked after his ammunition.
[Illustration: AT CHINIK. THE MISSION.]
Wednesday, December twelfth: Our sunset was very lovely today at one in
the afternoon, and at three o'clock, when I began with little Jennie's
lessons, we had to light the lamp. I usually go into the sewing-room for
a little while either before or after the lesson to watch the women sew
furs.
Alice, the younger, is as quiet as a mouse, but the captain's wife is a
little more talkative, though not particularly given to conversation.
Now and then, while she sews, something is said with which she does not
agree, and she bites her thread off with a snap, with some terse remark
offsetting the other, or with a bit of cynicism, which, with a quick
glance of her black eyes and curl of the lip, is well calculated to
settle forever the offender; for the captain's wife is as keen as a
briar, and reads human nature quickly. I should say she is gifted with
wonderful intuitive powers, and these have been sharpened by her
constant effort to understand the words and lives of those around her,
these being to such an extent English speaking people, while she is an
Eskimo. Let none flatter themselves that they can deceive Mollie, for
they would better abandon that idea before they begin. She impresses me
as a thoroughly good and honest woman, and I am getting to respect her
greatly.
Two of the boys from the Home spent the night in the Mission, and helped
with sawing wood all forenoon today. They went from Nome to assist at
building the Home, and came over here for the first time yesterday. They
are jolly fellows, and used often to assist us in the "Star" at Nome,
one always lightening our load of work by his cheery voice and pleasant,
hopeful smile. He, too, is a sweet singer, and a great favorite with
all. After a lunch they started to mush back to the Home over the ice,
promising to come again at Christmas. B. and G. finally got started on
their long, cold trip to Nome on business.