STONES AND DYNAMITE.
The last week of May has finally come, and with it real spring weather.
The children play out in the sand heap on the south side of the house
for hours together, enjoying the warm sunshine and pleasant air, the
little girl clothed from head to foot in furs. Never has a springtime
been so welcome to me, perhaps because in striking contrast to the long,
cold winter through which we have just passed. From the hillside behind
the Mission, the snow is slowly disappearing, first from the most
exposed spots and rocks, the gullies keeping their drifts and ice
longer. Mosses are everywhere peeping cheerfully up at me in all their
tints of gorgeous green, some that I found recently being tipped with
the daintiest of little red cups. This, with other treasures, I brought
in my basket to Jennie when I returned from my daily walk upon the hill,
and together we studied them closely under the magnifying glass.
To examine the treasures brought in by Mollie, however, we needed no
glass. They are sand-pipers, ptarmigan, squirrels, and occasionally a
wild goose, shot, perhaps, in the act of flying over the hunter's head,
as these birds are now often seen and heard going north. In the evening
I see from my window the neighboring Eskimo children playing with their
sleds, and sometimes they light a bonfire, shouting and chattering in
their own unique way. All "mushers" now travel at night when the trail
is frozen, as it is too soft in the daytime, and the glare of the sun
often causes snow-blindness. Then, too, there is water on the ice in
places, which we are glad to see, and pools of the same are standing
around the Mission and schoolhouse. I can no longer go out in my
muckluks, but must wear my long rubber boots and short skirts.
Today I went out for an hour, walking to Chinik Creek over the tundra,
from which the snow has almost disappeared, and returned by the hill-top
path. The tundra was beautiful with mosses, birds were singing, and the
rushing and roaring of the creek waters fairly made my head swim, they
were such unusual sounds. The water was cutting a channel in the sands
where it empties into the bay. Here it was flowing over the ice, helping
to loosen the edge and allow it to drift out to sea.
There is little change in the manners and dispositions of the rough men
in camp. There are the same things with which to contend day after day,
the same annoyances and trials to endure, with new ones in addition
quite frequently.
June has come at last, and all the world should be happy, but, alas,
there is always some worm in the bud to do the blasting. This morning
about three o'clock I was wakened by the sound of drunken voices outside
my window, followed by stones hurled against the side of the house.
Quickly rising, I cautiously peeped out from behind the curtain, but was
not surprised at what I saw. There, about a hundred feet away, were four
men, all well known to me as members of the gang, and all in the most
advanced stages of intoxication. On the step of a neighboring cabin sat
the murderer, Ford, hugging in a maudlin way a big black bottle.
On the ground, in the dirt, there rolled two young men, the Englishman
underneath, and Big Bub over him. Sim, the leader, had aimed four stones
at my window, but missed it, and felt the need of more stimulant, so he
took the bottle from Ford, carried it to the lumber pile, a few feet
away, sat down, put it to his lips and drank heavily. Again and again he
tipped up the bottle while he drank, but finally threw it away empty.
Then, with much exertion, he stooped to pick up a stone.
He was aiming at my window. I dodged into a corner, but the box
washstand stood partly in my way. Would he hit his mark? I did not
believe it. He was too drunk. Crack! came the stone against the house.
I waited. Another followed. In the meantime the other men had paid no
attention to him, as Ford was watching the two tumblers, the lumber
pile being between them and Sim; and the three started for the front
door around the south side of the house. Sim followed them. I now hoped
he would forget his stone throwing. When they were all out of sight I
breathed more freely. Surely now the trouble was over, I thought, and I
threw off my fur coat which I had hastily pulled on over my wrapper,
crept into bed and covered my head with the blankets.
I now thought quickly. Even if Sim should forget to throw more stones,
would he not soon come upstairs and perhaps give me more trouble? Would
it not be better to dress myself and be prepared for any emergency? I
was hurriedly deliberating upon the matter--my head still covered with
the blankets--when there was a loud crash and shivered glass covered the
floor and the bed clothes. Instantly throwing the latter back, I looked
around me. I could see no stone, and I had heard none fall upon the
floor, but it must be there somewhere.
I now stepped carefully out of bed, in order to avoid the glass, my feet
being already in knit, wool slippers, with thick, warm soles--and again
looked out.
There was no one to be seen. Sim had done his dastardly work, and gone
indoors. Would this end it? My teeth shattered, and I felt cold. I must
keep my nerve, however, and I did so, dressing myself carefully even to
my stout shoes which I laced up in front and tied. Then I drew on my
fur coat and sat down to wait.
Below the four men were poking around in the kitchen, trying to find
something to eat or drink. It was not long before I heard them coming
upstairs, and all tumbled into the next room, which was occupied by
Ford.
If they came to molest me further there was yet one way of escape which
I would try before using my revolver. The weapon I did not want to use
unless driven to it. There was the staging outside my window which had
never been removed since the house was built, the year before. I could
very easily step out upon it, and walk to the end of the house, but then
I must either jump or remain, for there was no ladder. This staging was,
perhaps, twenty feet from the ground, and the latter frozen. To slide
down a post would tear my hands fearfully.
I had not long to wait. To go peaceably to bed seemed to be the last
thing these men thought of, and one picked up a gun, which, for hunting
purposes, every man in the house kept close at hand.
"I zay, now, Bub, put up zat gun. Zis ain't no place for shootin',"
drawled a thick, sleepy voice which I recognized instantly.
"Shut yer gab! Who's hurtin' you?" answered Bub, the biggest of the
four, and one of the ugliest when intoxicated.
"Mrs. Sullivan's in the next room. You wouldn't shoot her, would you?"
asked Sim sneeringly in a loud tone, for he could stand up under great
quantities of liquor.
"Sh! Keep still a minute, you fool!" in a harsh whisper from Bub.
I was now thankful that I was dressed. I waited no longer. Opening the
door I ran down stairs to Mollie and the captain, knocking loudly upon
their door.
"Hang those brutes!" exclaimed the captain angrily, when I had finished
telling him what had happened. "What is the matter with them, any way?"
"Whiskey," said I. "They are all as drunk as pirates."
"Show me your room and window," demanded the captain, who by this time
had gotten into some of his clothing, and stepped into the living room
where I was.
I then led the way upstairs, and threw open my door. What a sight!
Broken glass covered the floor and bed, the cool morning air pouring in
through the broken pane of which there was little left in the sash.
That was enough for the captain. He made straight for the next room,
where all was now perfectly still, only Ford remaining in it, the others
having had sense enough to sneak off to their own places, after hearing
me run down stairs to report.
Seizing my blankets I closed and locked the door and made my way down
stairs to Mollie. Above we could hear the captain's voice in angry
altercation with the men, they denying everything, of course, even the
stone throwing, with the window as evidence against them. It was
half-past four and I had slept little. There was no fire in the house,
and I was cold; so, throwing down a few skins in a corner of the
sewing-room, with my blankets upon them, I covered myself to get warm.
At last the house was once more quiet, and I slept for an hour, only to
meet black and angry looks from the men all day, accompanied by threats
and curses, though I said nothing to them. I picked up the stone from my
reindeer rug, where it had fallen after shattering the window pane, and
it lay only two feet from my head. It was about the size of an egg.
Of course it is impossible for me to leave Chinik, as the winter trails
are broken up, the ice has not left the bay, and no steamers can enter;
so we are practically prisoners. O, how I long to get away from this
terrible place! Never since I came to Chinik have I given these men one
cross word, and yet they hate me with a bitter, jealous hatred, such as
I have never before seen. Some weeks ago I pinned a slip of paper into
my Bible, upon which I have written the address of my parents, in case
anything should happen to me. O, to be once more safe at home with them!
God grant that I may be before many months shall have passed.
A splendid warm, bright day, June thirteenth, the most of which the
children and I have spent upon the sandy beach in front of the hotel.
Little Jennie lies and plays on the warm, dry sand, though, of course,
she does not stand on her feet nor walk. Other small Eskimos come to
play with them, for Charlie is always on hand for a play spell on the
sand, and I doze and read under my umbrella in the meantime, with an eye
always upon them. They make sand pies, native igloos, and many imaginary
things and places, but more than any other thing is my mind upon the
coming of the steamers, when I hope to get away.
Mollie came in last night from a seal hunt upon the ice, and she, with
the three native boys, secured a white seal, and eight others, but did
not bring all with them. There is a great deal of water on the ice at
this time, and none but natives like to travel upon it. Ducks and geese
are flying northward in flocks above our heads, and we feast daily upon
them. They are very large and tasty, and the cook knows well how to
serve them.
We now see a line of blue water out beyond the ice, and even distinguish
white breakers in the distance. Today I took a field glass, and climbing
the hill behind the Mission to look as far out as possible, strained my
eyes to see a steamer. As I stood upon the point to get a better view,
the whole world around seemed waking from a long, long sleep.
At my left was Chinik Creek, pouring its rushing waters out over the bay
ice with a cheerful, rapid roaring. Farther away south stretched the
Darby Cape into blue water which looked like indigo, surmounted by long
rolling breakers with combs of white, all being fully fourteen miles
away. To the northwest of the sand-spit upon which Chinik is built, and
which cuts Golovin Bay almost in two, the Fish River is also emptying
itself, as is Keechawik Creek and other smaller streams. Over all the
welcome sunshine is flooded, warming the buds and roots on the hillside,
and making all beautiful.
June seventeenth: This is Bunker Hill Day in New England, and the men
have been celebrating on their own account, setting off a fifty pounds
box of dynamite in the neighborhood to frighten the women, I suppose.
The shock was terrific, breaking windows, lamp shades, and jarring
bottles and other articles off the shelves. Jennie was dreadfully
frightened, and screamed for a few minutes, while the living room soon
filled with men inquiring the cause of the explosion. By and by a man
came in saying that another box of giant powder would be set off, but
with that the Marshal left the room with a determined face, and we heard
no more dynamiting. The men, as usual, were intoxicated.
I have just had a pleasant little outing at the Home, going with Mollie,
who invited me to go with her. She was going out seal hunting on the
ice, would leave me at the Home for a short visit, and pick me up on her
return. Ageetuk and grandmother would take good care of Jennie for so
short a time, and I needed the change, so I ran up to my room, threw
some things hastily into a small bag to take with me, locked my trunk,
(I had long ago put a package consisting of papers and diaries into the
safe in the kind storekeeper's care), dressed myself in my shortest
skirts and longest rubber boots, and we started. The weather was too
warm for furs in sunshine, or while running behind a sled, so I wore a
thick jacket, black straw hat with thick veil, and kid gloves.
We left the hotel about half-past seven o'clock in the evening, but with
the sun still high and warm. Mollie had her small sled and three dogs,
with Muky and Punni Churah and their guns. The other sled was a large
one, and to it were hitched seven good dogs, accompanied by Ituk and
Koki. Upon the sleds were furs, guns, bags and fishing tackle. Along
shore there was considerable water on the ice, in a few spots the latter
had disappeared, and we could see the sandy beach, but farther east the
ice was firmer, and Mollie, who made for the best looking places, led
the way, I running closely in her footsteps.
Behind us came the men and teams, the calls of the Eskimos to their dogs
sounding musically on the quiet evening air. Mollie and I were now
leaping over water-filled cracks or lanes in the ice, she having assured
me that after getting away from the shore it would be better traveling,
and we could ride on the sleds when we were tired, but I felt
considerable pride in keeping up with her, and soon grew very warm from
the stiff exercise, unaccustomed as I was, while she was well used to
it.
After we had left the shore some distance behind us we halted for the
sleds to come up, Mollie seating herself upon the small one, I waiting
for the other a little later. There I ran at the handle-bars for a time,
but at last I threw myself upon the sled among the furs, and pulled a
parkie over me. We were now in the water a foot deep most of the time,
the dogs picking their way along over the narrowest water lanes, Ituk
and Koki shouting to them to gee and haw, and with Eskimo calls and
whip-snapping, urging them on continually.
Soon we left the smaller sled behind; Mollie, Muky and Punni making the
air ring with laughter and Eskimo songs. As we started out from home the
sun shone brightly upon us, but as we left the land at our backs, and
made our way farther out upon the bay, the sun dropped lower and lower,
the sky became a mass of crimson and yellow, and the whole world seemed
modestly blushing.
Along the east shore the rolling hills lay almost bare of snow, the
brown tundra appearing softly and most artistically colored. To the
north the mountains were still tipped with snow, as was also the
promontory--Cape Darby, at the extreme southeast point. This was spotted
and streaked with white, its rocky cliff black in shadow by contrast.
Our eyes eagerly scanned the horizon for steamers, and a schooner had
been reported off Darby loaded with fresh fruits and vegetables, but we
could not see it.
By and by we were past most of the water lanes, and the ice was better.
At half-past nine o'clock in the evening the sky was exceedingly grand,
and a song of gratitude welled up in my heart, for this was another
world from the one we had just left, and I no longer wondered at
Mollie's love of hunting in the fresh air, under the beautiful skies,
and with her freedom to travel wherever she liked.
With her I felt perfectly safe. No harm could come to me when Mollie led
the way, and my confidence in the native men was equally strong; for
were they not as familiar with ice and water as with land? I soon saw
that we were headed toward the island, though I did not know why, and by
this time Mollie was far ahead, also that we were being followed by a
dog-team from Chinik, which puzzled me, for I had not heard that others
were going out hunting for seal, or starting for the Home, which was my
destination.
When we reached the north end of the small island Mollie ran up the path
like a deer, I following, as did the natives, leaving the dogs to rest
upon the ice. From a hole in the rocks Koki now hauled his kyak or
small skin boat, where he had left it from a former trip, and dragging
it down upon the ice, he lashed it upon the small sled to be carried
still farther.
The dog-team, which I had seen following in the distance, had now come
up with us, and I heard one man say to the other: "There is Mrs.
Sullivan," but I did not recognize the voice. When they came nearer, we
found it to be two men from camp who were going out to the schooners to
buy fruit and vegetables, and they wanted to get a dog belonging to them
which Mollie had borrowed and had hitched into her team. A change of
dogs was then made, and we started--Mollie and I on her big sled, the
other two following.
We now skirted the rocky cliffs, and found the ice hummocky between
great, deep cracks where the water was no longer white, but dark and
forbidding. Sometimes Koki suddenly started the dogs to one side to
avoid dark-looking holes in the ice, the dogs leaping over seams which
quickly lay beneath us as the fore and hinder parts of our sled bridged
the crevasse of ugly water.
Now the sled swayed from side to side as the dogs made sudden curves or
dashes, then a big hummock of ice and snow had to be crossed, and one
end of the sled went up while the other went down. I was holding to the
side rails with both hands, and knowing that the sled was a good, strong
one, I had no fear of its breaking, but my feet were cold in my rubber
boots, and I had drawn some furs over me.
Mollie is not a great talker, she seldom explains anything, and one has
only to wait and see the outcome of her movements, and this I did, when
she suddenly with Ituk left the sleds and climbed the rocks of the
island again on the south side. Then I saw them gathering sticks and
small driftwood, and knew that they would make a fire upon the ice at
midnight, while preparing to hunt for seals.
Coming to a rough place, with high-piled ice between great, ugly seams
over which the sagacious dogs dragged the sleds always in a straight
line, not slantwise, I climbed out, and Mollie and Ituk came with their
driftwood, which they threw upon the sled; the two men making for the
schooner forging ahead in the direction of Cape Darby.
Ituk and Muky now made ready to go with me to the Home, a half mile away
to the east where they were also to get some bread, this important item
having been forgotten in the hurry of departure from Chinik. In the
meantime Mollie, not to lose a moment of time, as is her method, had
gotten out her fishing tackle and was already fishing for tom-cod
through a hole in the ice. Bidding her Beoqua (good-bye), we started for
the Home, Ituk politely taking my little bag, and Muky leaping lightly
over the rocks toward the mainland. Along the shore of the island I was
fearful of cutting my boots on the jagged rocks and rubble thickly
strewn over the sands, and had to proceed cautiously for a time, but
Ituk, perceiving my difficulty, led to a smoother path, and we were soon
on the mainland, and upon the soft tundra, when it was only a few
minutes walk to the Home.
It was eleven o'clock in the evening, and we found the missionaries just
returned from a trip to the schooner, where they had secured fresh
potatoes and onions. The smell and taste of an onion was never so good
to me before, and the potatoes were the first we had seen in six months.
I had been in the Home in the early spring for a day, and now, as then,
met with a warm welcome from the missionaries. They now had double the
number of native children they had in Chinik, and their house is large
and commodious, though unfinished.
I was assigned the velvet couch upon which I had spent a good many
nights, and the two natives returned to Mollie after securing some bread
from Miss E. for their lunches.
Next day we visited, and I rested considerably, finding again how good
it was to be in a safe and quiet place with no fear of stone throwers or
giant powder.
About half-past ten o'clock in the evening, just after the sun had set,
we started on our return trip, Mollie having arrived with her dog-teams
and natives. The sunset sky was exceedingly beautiful, but beneath our
feet we had only very bad ice and water. Near the island great ice cakes
were floating, interspersed with dark seams and lanes wider than we had
before seen. Sometimes I rode on one of the sleds or walked, ran or
leaped over the water holes to keep up with the rest until too tired and
heated, when I threw myself upon a sled again; but as we proceeded we
found firmer ice and less water. Mollie and I had both to ride upon one
sled now, for Ituk had lashed the kyak upon the little one, and they
were one dog short, as an animal had run away while they were eating
supper at the Home. Finally, pitying the dogs upon the large sled, who
seemed to have a heavy load (although only one seal, as they had met
with little success in hunting), I motioned to Ituk to wait for me,
which he did.
"Ituk," I called, as I came nearer, "let me ride in the kyak, will you?"
"You ride in kyak?" asked the man in surprise.
"Yes, let me get in, I will hold on tight," and, as he made no
objection, I climbed upon the boat, crept into the hole made for that
purpose and sat down.
"All right, Ituk; I am ready," I said.
The man laughed, cracked his whip, and the dogs started.
I had not before realized that I would be sitting so high up, and that
at each dip in a crack or depression of the ice, when the sled runner
ran a little higher than the other, I should stand a grand chance of
being spilled into the water, but my feet were so cold in my rubber
boots that I was thinking to get them under cover would be agreeable,
and though Ituk probably well knew what the outcome of my ride would be,
he very patiently agreed to allow me to try it.
We had not gone far when our dogs made a sudden dash or turn, the
right-hand runner slipped lengthwise into a seam, and over we went,
sled, kyak, woman and all upon the ice in a sorry heap. The dogs halted
instantly, and Ituk, who had been running on the left-hand side of them,
came back at my call.
"O, Ituk, come here and help me! I cannot get out of the kyak," I cried
lustily. "I will not get into it again," and I rubbed my wrist upon
which the skin had been slightly bruised, and he assisted me to my feet.
The native laughed.
"Kyak no good--riding--heap better run," he said.
"That's so, Ituk, but my feet are very cold."
"Get warm quick--you running," was his reply, and we started on again.
When five or six miles from Chinik the water became more troublesome,
and our progress was slow. We were wading through holes, leaping over
seams, and treading through slush and water. It was colder than the
night before, a thin skin of ice was forming, but not firm enough to
hold one up. I was cold and cuddled into the sled with Mollie, but the
two natives running alongside were continually sitting upon the rail to
get a short ride instead of walking, thus loading the sled too heavily
upon one side, and we were soon all tumbled into water a foot deep.
As I went over I threw out my arm to save myself, and my sleeve was
soaked through in an instant. Koki and Muky thought it great fun, and
laughed and shouted in glee, but to me it was a little too serious. My
clothes were wet through on my right side, and I was now obliged to run
whether I wanted to do so or not, for we were fully a mile from home. My
gloves and handkerchief were soaked with water, and I threw them away,
thrusting my hands into my jacket pockets and running to keep up with
the others.
We were now wading and leaping across frequent lanes, and were more in
the water than upon the ice. The sharp eyes of the natives had discerned
the shore line well bordered by open water, and they were wondering how
they would get across. Finally we could get no farther, and were a
hundred feet from the beach.
"Dogs can swim," said Mollie, sententiously, as was her habit.
"How will you and I get on shore, Mollie?" I asked anxiously.
"Ituk, big man,--he carry you, may be," answered Mollie, roguishly, with
a twinkle.
"But," I continued seriously, "how deep is the water, anyway, Koki?"
seeing that he had been wading in to find out.
"Him not much deep. We walk all right,--'bout up here," and the native
placed his hand half way between his knee and thigh to show the depth,
then walking a little farther down towards the hotel he seemed to find a
better place, and called for all to follow, which we did.
The men waded across to the shore, stepping upon stones which now and
then, at this point, were embedded in the sand, Mollie boldly following
their example. All wore high-skin boots, coming far above their knees,
and water-tight, but my rubber-boots had never been put to a test like
this, only coming a little above my knees, where the soft tops were
confined by a drawstring, and this water was very cold, as I had good
reason to know.
However, there was nothing to do but go on, first watching the others,
and then plunging boldly in. I drew my boot-tops higher, fastened the
strings securely, picked up my short skirts and wound them closely about
me, but not in a manner to impede my progress, and stepped in.
By this time the dogs and men were upon the sands, and making for home,
only a few rods away, but I took my time, walking slowly in order that
the water should not slop over the tops of my boots, and we finally
reached the beach and the house safely.