A Woman who went to Alaska Part 22

All voted that the cooks had "done themselves proud," and no one could say that Christmas dinners could not be served in Chinik.

Before rising from the table, at the close of the meal, toasts to the host and hostess were drunk by those at the bottles, and Christmas presents were distributed to many, princ.i.p.ally to members of the family and from boarders of the house. There were silk handkerchiefs, red neckties, "boiled shirts," and mittens, and in some instances moosehide gloves and moccasins, made by the Eskimo hostess herself, while "Mellie"

came in for a share, including a large black bottle of "choice Burgundy."

Upon leaving the dining table, the company separated, most of the men going into the bar-room and store, while the family and invited guests repaired to the living-room. Here a good-sized Christmas tree had been arranged for Jennie and Charlie, and their presents were displayed and talked over. In the meantime, the long dining table was cleared and spread again for the Eskimos, who soon flocked into the room in numbers.

Some one proposed that we go to the Mission and have some songs by the musician, to which all a.s.sented, and nine of us, including the captain, his wife and Jennie, started over about half-past eight o'clock. There we found the rooms bright and warm, the two men keeping house in my absence having escaped to the upper rooms on hearing the party approaching. Here a pleasant hour or two were pa.s.sed in listening to the songs of the musician, who always accompanies himself on his instrument, whether banjo or organ. He sang the "Lost Chord," "Old Kentucky Home," and many other dear old songs, closing with "G.o.d Be With You Till We Meet Again," and the doxology. After that they pulled on their parkies and fur coats and went out into the snow storm (for by this time the snow was falling heavily), and to their homes, while I sat down alone in the firelight to review the events of the day--my first Christmas Day in Alaska. How different from any other I have ever spent.

What a disclosure of the shady side of human nature this is,--and yet there is some good intermingled with it all.

Many here cannot endure the stress of the current, nor pull against it, and so float easily on towards the rapids and destruction. Here is a field for the Christian worker, though Mr. H. says he moved his little flock twelve miles across the bay in order to get it farther away from this iniquitous camp.

CHAPTER XXI.

MY FIRST GOLD CLAIMS.

Christmas is over for another year, and this is December twenty-sixth with its daily winter routine. After I had given the two men their breakfast, I went out for a walk upon the beach. A few snowflakes fell upon my face as I walked, and it was not cold but pleasant. There was a red and glowing, eastern sky, but no sunshine, and I looked out over the ice to see if possibly the girls were returning. Seeing nothing of them, I went home again. About two o'clock M. came in, saying that they could be seen far out upon the ice, and we must build the fires and get dinner started, which we then did. Soon Alma came riding on a reindeer sled, with a native driver, getting in ahead of the others, who arrived half an hour later.

Mr. H. has come with two of his a.s.sistants and Miss E. by reindeer team from the Home on their way to the station, where the animals are herded in the hills, and all had a good lunch. After spending two hours in packing, talking and resting, they left again, Miss E. on a sled behind a reindeer, which was driven by a native, and which tore up the snow in clouds as he dashed over the ice northward to the hills. I ran out upon the cliff to see them on their way, being quite contented that it was not myself.

I have learned that the five persons who drifted out to sea on the ice were brought back by the wind and tide, and escaped safely to land, after being at sea several days, but were unharmed, and went on to Nome.

I was very glad to hear this, as they have had a narrow escape from death.

Friday, December twenty-eighth: The musician and his friend who was bitten by the mad dog called this forenoon at the Mission to get the man's wounds dressed by Mary, the nurse. His hands are much better, but the wounded leg may yet give him trouble. Mary did her best for the man, who seems to be growing more cheerful, and we do all possible to encourage and help him, lending him reading matter of various kinds with which to pa.s.s his time. A good many are going to the New Year's party at Council, among them the captain and his wife, and the musician; but I shall not go, though both commissioners have urged me to accept their invitations, and did not enjoy overmuch my refusals. I was playing ball with Jennie and Charlie before our lessons today when the party started out with the dog-teams, for the nights are very moonlight and clear, and they can travel for many hours. A cousin of Mollie's, by name Ageetuk, went with her. Jennie is to stay with her auntie until her mamma's return, and I will give her the afternoon lessons just the same, only at her auntie's house. When the lesson was finished I led Charlie to Ageetuk's house, where her mother cares for him in the night time, and left Jennie with her auntie, Apuk. This woman has a neat little cabin of three small rooms, furnished in comfortable fashion, with a pretty Brussels rug covering the floor of her best room, in which is a white iron bedstead, a good small table with a pretty cover, a large lamp, white dimity curtains at the windows over the shades, and in the next room there are white dishes upon the shelves.

Sunday, December thirtieth: It is ten weeks yesterday since we arrived at Golovin, or Chinik, as is the Eskimo name for the settlement, and p.r.o.nounced Cheenik, a creek of the same name flowing into the bay a mile east of this camp. During the day I went to look after Jennie and brought the child home with me, giving her candy and nuts, and playing for her on the organ.

This evening we all went out upon the ice for a walk. We took the trail to White Mountain, going in a northwesterly direction, and enjoyed it very much. We pa.s.sed the cliff, and the boats, the snow creaking at every step, and the moonlight clear and beautiful. We were out for two hours, and felt better for the fresh air and exercise. All old timers say that it is bad for one's health to remain indoors too much in Alaska, and people should get out every day for exercise. There is far more danger of getting scurvy by remaining in the house too much than from any kinds of food we have to eat, and none of us wish to be ill with that troublesome disease.

About five o'clock Miss E. came in with a native from the station where the reindeer are kept, having grown tired of staying in a native hut with the Eskimo women while the missionary was busy at work. She started early this morning when the weather was fine. Lincoln, the experienced native who came with her, knew the way perfectly, and they expected to make the twelve or fifteen miles and get into the Mission early, but the weather suddenly changed, as it knows so well how to do in this country, the wind blew, snow fell and drifted and though they came safely through the hills, they lost their way upon the bay while crossing to Chinik, and wandered for hours in the snow storm.

Having no lunch, tent, nor compa.s.s, and no extra furs, they found themselves in a disagreeable plight, especially as the snow was very soft and wet. They kept on traveling, however, until they were satisfied that they were going in circles, as do all when lost in a snow storm, and were making no progress; then they halted.

Here they were overtaken by two white men, lost like themselves, who, when the matter had been talked over, would not follow the native, thinking they knew better than he the way to Chinik, and they went off by themselves. Miss E. says that both she and Lincoln had given up hope of getting here today, but she knelt upon the ice and prayed that they might find their way safely, then trusted that they would do so, and started. After going on for a time in the storm, they saw a small, deserted cabin not far from them which Lincoln instantly recognized as one upon the point of land only a quarter of a mile west of Chinik, and they were happy.

They soon came into the Mission, full of grat.i.tude, though wet, tired and hungry, for it is so warm that there is water on the ice in places, and the snow is very heavy. They had only one deer with them.

The two lost men came into camp an hour after Miss E. arrived, having gone past the cabin and camp, and southward too far in their reckoning.

It is never safe to travel without a compa.s.s of some sort in this country. Mr. H. and his two men have, besides attending to the herd, staked some gold claims while away, not far from our claims. The wind has died down, and there is no snow falling tonight at half-past eight.

This is New Year's Eve, and the girls and boys are singing, and having a good time in the sitting-room while I write. We are going to sit up to watch the old year out and the new year in, and have a little song service at midnight.

This is the last day of nineteen hundred, and a memorable year it has been. How many new scenes and how great the changes through which we have pa.s.sed! What will the New Year bring? Where will we be next year at this time? It is probably better that we do not know the future.

New Year's Day, nineteen hundred and one. This has been a good day all around, after our midnight watch meeting, when seven of the eight persons present took a part, and we sang many songs with the organ. At half-past twelve I retired, but the others remained up until two o'clock.

This evening the storekeeper and two others from White Mountain called to see if we did not care to go out coasting on the hill behind the Mission, and five or six of us went. When we got to the top of the hill the wind was so strong that I could hardly stand, and after a few trips down the Hill we gave it up, part of our number going out to walk upon the ice, and the rest of us going indoors. The men were invited into the Mission, and stayed for an hour, chatting pleasantly, as there is no place for them to go except to the saloons. It is a great pity that there is no reading room with papers and books for the miners, with the long winter before them, and nothing to do. There is a crying need for something in this line, and if they do not employ their time pleasantly and profitably, they will spend it unprofitably in some saloon or gambling place. I wish I had a thousand good magazines to scatter, but I have none.

I gave Jennie her lesson, and amused both children for a time this afternoon. Yesterday the snow drifted badly, and I fear the people who went to Council will not have a good trail on the way home.

January second: It is pleasant to have a corner by myself in which to write and be sometimes alone. The little northeast corner room where I sleep has a tile pipe coming up from the kitchen, making the room warm enough except in the coldest weather. It has a north window with no double one outside, and when the wind comes from the north I expect it will be extremely cold. From this window I can see (when the gla.s.s is free from frost) out upon the trail to Nome and White Mountain. Today there is water on the ice, and it has been raining and blowing. Three of the boys returned from a four days' prospecting trip to the west, and as two of them had been sick the whole time since they left here, they came in wet, tired and hungry, without having much good luck to relate. I told them it was something to get back at all again, and they agreed heartily, while eating a hot supper. An hour later and Mr. H. with the visiting preacher came in from the reindeer station, and their staking trip, in the same condition as the three boys had been; so a supper for them was also prepared.

Our kitchen looks like a junk shop these days, and a wet one at that, for the numbers of muckluks, fur parkies, mittens, and other garments hung around the stove to dry are almost past counting, and the odor is stifling; but the clothing must be dried somewhere, and there is no other place. An engine room would be the very best spot I know for drying so many wet furs, and I wish we had one here.

In speaking to one of the men today about prospecting my claim, I told him I would furnish the grub, but he said very kindly, "I wouldn't take any grub from you. I've got enough, and shall be at work there any way, so it won't take long to sink some holes in your claim," which I thought was very good of him. I hope they will "strike it" rich.

January third: A wet, sloppy, snowy day, our "January thaw," Mr. H.

says. I took the two children out on the sled upon the ice and pushed at the handle-bars until I was reeking with perspiration, afterwards giving Jennie her lesson at her auntie's.

There are twelve of us under the Mission roof tonight, including Miss E.

and the native.

January fourth: These are great days. We have a houseful of men, nine in all, and some are getting ready to leave tomorrow to do some staking of claims up near the station. M. said if the musician were only here, and they could get a dog-team, he would like to get him to go with him on a staking trip not far away. This man returned soon afterward, and M.

wanted me to ask him if he would go. I did so, and he replied that he would go, and furnish dogs if possible; but the ones he tried to get were engaged, and that plan fell through, much to his discouragement.

Learning this, I determined to go to the captain at the hotel, and see if I could procure dogs from him for the trip. He said yes, I could have his best dogs, and that a mail carrier is here resting who will lend us his dogs, so that was all arranged.

Location papers then had to be written out, grub boxes packed, a tent looked up, and many things attended to before they left, so that others in camp got an inkling of what was being done and wanted to go along.

Then M. and the musician decided to put off going until midnight, when they would sneak quietly out of camp with their dogs and scamper away among the hills without the others knowing it, but it could not be done, and two or three sleds followed them at midnight in the moonlight, as is the custom with Alaska "stampeders."

January fifth: Mollie asked me today to go with her to visit her fox traps, and I immediately decided to go. We started about half-past one in the afternoon, on foot past the cliff, but when we had gone a short distance Mollie stopped to call back to the house. Some native boys were cutting wood at the north door, and she motioned one to come to her.

When he came, she spoke to him in Eskimo, and he, a.s.senting to what she said, ran back again.

"I tell Muky to come with dog-team, bring us home, you get tired by and by," she said thoughtfully, as we trudged on again over and through the snow. The woman wore a reindeer parkie, short skirt, and muckluks, and carried a gun on her shoulder. The snow was quite a foot deep, with a crust on top which we broke at almost every step, and which made it hard walking. On we "mushed," past the cliff, the boats, and out upon the ice. The traps had been set by Mollie a week before on the northeast sh.o.r.e of the bay among a few low bushes, and this was our objective point. When we reached the first trap, which was buried in snow, but found by a certain shrub which Mollie had in some way marked and now recognized, I threw myself upon the snow to rest and watch her movements.

Around us we saw plenty of ptarmigan tracks, but no signs of foxes. A foot below the snow's surface, Mollie found her trap, and proceeded to reset it. Carefully covering the trap with a very little light snow and smoothing it nicely over, she chipped off bits of reindeer meat from a sc.r.a.p she had brought with her, scattering them invitingly around.

The scene about us was a very quiet one and wintry in the extreme. Long, low hills stretched out on every side of the bay, and the whole earth was a great snow heap. The sky and cloud effects were charming, fading sunshine on the hilltops making them softly pink, and very lovely; but with deep reddish purple tints over all as the sun-ball disappeared.

One after another, four fox traps in different places were reset by Mollie, while I mushed on behind her.

At last we saw the dog-team and Muky coming on the bay. Five dogs he had hitched to his sled, and each wore a tiny bell at its throat, making a pretty din as they trotted. When the woman had finished her trapping, we both climbed into the sled, the native running and calling to the dogs, and they started for home. It was not a long ride, probably not more than a mile and a half as we went, but while tramping through the snow crust to the traps it seemed much longer.

I now thoroughly enjoyed the novel ride. In the dusky twilight the dogs trotted cheerfully homeward, obeying the musical calls of their driver, and the little bells jingled merrily. Darker and more purple grew the skies until they tinted the snow over which we were pa.s.sing, and by the time we had halted before the hotel door it was really night.

By the clock it was fifteen minutes past four and the thermometer registered fifteen degrees below zero. Then we toasted our feet before the big heater, removed and shook out our frosty furs, and answered the two children's questions. To these Mollie gave her explanations in Eskimo, and I told of the ptarmigan tracks I had seen on the snow drifts.

Sunday, January sixth: Yesterday I moved into the little southeast room which was formerly Miss J.'s. It has pretty paper on the walls, and a small heater in one corner, besides a single cot, and I soon settled quite comfortably. The room with the bunks was needed for the men, of whom there are so many most of the time. The room I now have has a south window, but not a double one, and gets heavy with frost, which remains on the panes; but I can have a fire when I want one, as the stove burns chips and short wood, of which there are always quant.i.ties in the shed.

B. tells me to use all the wood I want, as there is no shortage of fuel, nor men to haul and cut it, which I think is very kind. A little fire while I am dressing nights and mornings, however, is all I shall try to keep burning.

Miss J. came with Ivan, bringing several native children to visit their parents for a few hours, but took them back with her after supper when the meeting was over, which she had held in the kitchen. We had sixteen to supper, including natives. Afterward we went down to the beach to see the party off for the Home. Ivan led the dogs, five in number, hitched to the big sled. Miss J. ran alongside, the visiting preacher at the handle bar, and the little children on the sled. After watching them off, we came home and then took a walk of a mile out upon the ice on the White Mountain trail, which was in fairly good condition. There were six of us. When we got back to the house, I played by request on the organ, for the three Swedish visitors from Council.

The weather is bright and beautiful, and sixteen degrees below zero.

Monday, January seventh: The boys came in from their stampede to the creeks, and M. says they staked us all rich if there is anything good in the ground. My claim is Number Ten, below Discovery, on H. Creek, and sounds well, if nothing more. Of course we women are all much elated, and talk of "our claims" very glibly, but a few sunken prospect holes will tell the story of success or failure better than anything else.

This has been a busy day in the house until I went at half-past two in the afternoon to Mollie's to find her ill in bed with a very bad throat.