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27 chapters
Joseph Grinnell
Joseph Grinnell
Edited by Elizabeth Grinnell Author of "How John and I Brought Up the Child," "John and I and the Church," "Our Feathered Friends," "For the Sake of a Name," etc. Dedicated to Disappointed gold=hunters the world over David C. Cook Publishing Company ELGIN, ILL., AND 36 WASHINGTON STREET, CHICAGO ALASKA. Copyright, 1901, By David C. Cook Publishing Company....
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PREFACE.
PREFACE.
The following story was originally written in pencil on any sort of paper at hand, and intended merely for "the folks at home." It is only by a prior claim to the manuscript that the young gold-hunter's mother has obtained his consent to publish it. The diary has been changed but little, nor has much been added to make it as it stands. The narrative is true from beginning to end, including the proper names of persons and vessels and mining companies. It is offered to the David C. Cook Publishing
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CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER I.
W E ARE a company of twenty men bound for Kotzebue Sound, Alaska. It is needless to say we are gold-hunters. In this year of our Lord 1898, men are flying northward like geese in the springtime. That not more than one of us has ever set eyes on a real, live nugget passes for nothing; we shall naturally recognize "the yellow" when we see it. It is our intention to ransack Mother Nature's store-houses, provided we can unlock or pry open the doors without losing our lingers by freezing. Why we have
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CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER II.
J UNE 1.—Yesterday the fog cleared and disclosed to us the snowy peaks of the Siberian coast far to the northwest, and in front to the north of us the long coast line of St. Lawrence Island. We headed for the west end of the island, intending to pass up the channel between it and the Siberian coast. Saw two vessels in the distance returning from that direction. After we had beat against a bad wind all day we found ourselves almost surrounded by icebergs. With the field glass we could see the who
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CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER III.
C APE BLOSSOM, July 13, 1898.—The voyage is behind us. What is floating ice to a ship's crew safe on shore! We can laugh at whales, and unfriendly breezes that whisper tales of shipwreck on barren coasts. And we can walk at all hours of the day and night without holding on to the rail, and we don't have to cook breakfast and supper and dinner in an S x S galley. Oh, the charm of being on land again, a land without visible limit; a land where we are not crowded, and where we are not hindered from
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CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER IV.
J ULY 23. Penelope Ship Yards.—The "Helen" is at last ready. Three of the boys have cut up several cords of wood into proper lengths for the boiler. I cannot help mentioning the flowers again. New kinds appear every day without so much as sending up a leaf in advance. There are dandelions, and purple asters, and cream cups, and bluebells, and big daisies, and buttercups, and tall, blue flowers like our garden hyacinths. There are acres of blue-grass as smooth and green as if newly mown, birds an
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CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER V.
P ENELOPE CAMP, Kowak River, Aug. 28.—Here we are, one hundred and seventy miles from the mouth of the Kowak River and hard at work on our winter cabin. The "Helen" is almost a failure, else we should have been much farther up the river. The river is swift and has many rapids which we could not stem. The boat is slow. Her wheel is too small. She will be remodeled this winter. It took five days to come this far, and, as there are two more loads to bring up, we thought it best to halt. We have bee
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CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VI.
O CT. 15. 1898.—In looking over my diary I find that I have recorded no "bad weather." This comes of my having inherited a tendency to look on the bright side of things. I hear such complaints as "bad weather," "disagreeable day." "awfully cold." etc. Days when some are grumbling about its being "too hot" or "too cold," "too wet" or "too windy," I find some special reason for thinking it very pleasant. It is no virtue of mine, as I said. It is natural. Up till to-day there has been warm weather
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CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VII.
O CT. 30.—Returned last night from a six days' trip up Hunt River. Clyde and I started together with the expectation of getting far into the mountain ranges. As has been my custom from a small boy when starting on a trip. I made big preparations, much bigger than necessary. We had grub enough for two weeks. The boys expected great things on our return—bear, deer and other game, all of which was confidently promised. But to tell the honest truth, I wanted to get some chickadees and butcher birds.
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CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER VIII.
N OV. 12, 7 o'clock a. m.—Great excitement prevails. The "Flying Dutchman" returned down the Kowak last night. He is the German who passed on about twelve days ago to learn all the news and gather mail. He brings us good news, such news as makes the heart of a gold-hunter in the Arctics palpitate with emotion. He met a man above the Par River, one hundred and seventy-five miles east of us, who had just come over from the head waters of the Koyukuk River to get a sled-load of provisions. This man
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CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER IX.
N OV. 15. 1898.—The boys returned last night very weary. They gave us the news much as the "Flying Dutchman" had. Six of our Upper Penelope boys have started for the Koyukuk with four months' provisions. They are Miller. Foote, Alec, Stevenson, Shafer and Casey. They carry eighteen hundred pounds on two sleds, three men to each sled. Shaul has gone to the Pick River, where "good indications" are reported. That leaves Wilson, McCullough and Farrar at the Upper Camp. Dr. Coffin has little faith in
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CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER X.
N OV. 25.—To-day we are resting and slowly recovering from yesterday's "spree." It was the most gratifying Thanksgiving, as far as the gastronomic and social celebrations are considered, that I have experienced. At eleven o'clock in the morning our "Penelope" crowd of nine were marshaled into line out on the ice, and marched three miles down to the Hanson Camp. Harry Reynolds was elected captain, and he bore a streamer of red, white and blue. We were all dressed exactly alike in our brown Mackin
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CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XI.
D EC. 8.—The beautiful snow has come at last and to-day it is six inches deep on the level. The trees are loaded and the river and meadows are painfully white. We must get out our snow-glasses, of which we have an abundance for all. Our condition seems to resemble that of the Swiss Family Robinson. We find everything we desire in our cabin, if not in our "wreck." We have no wreck. The north wind has been blowing a gale for days, which at last amounted to a blizzard. I went across the river in th
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CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XII.
D EC. 20.—A man has just come up from the Orphans' Home with bad news. Poor Uncle S. is lost and probably frozen to death. He left the Orphans' Home to walk to the Mission a month ago and has not been seen since, although several parties have come up from the Sound. His tracks were seen by the "Flying Dutchman" on one of the forks of the Kowak in the delta. Uncle S. had our letters, so these will never reach their destination and the home folks will be disappointed. Possibly a whole year with no
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CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIII.
O UR midwinter trip for the mail was a chapter in our icy history never to be forgotten. We made the next fifteen miles to the Indian Igloo in good time. Cox and I slept in the igloo, but the rest in the tent. The fourth day we made the last fifteen miles to the Kotzebue Camp, where the sled and mail had been left. Besides the mail, there were two pipes about twenty feet long and weighing perhaps one hundred pounds each. Then there were our blankets and extra clothes and dog food, bringing the r
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CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XIV.
C AMP PENELOPE, Jan. 10, 1899.—Yesterday morning Uncle S. and Samms started on up the river with their dog sleds and mail. C. C. and Cox went with them. They hope to reach the Upper Penelope Camp and learn as much as they can of the outlook and the wish of the men as to segregation in the spring. They will have no easy trip of it, but C. C. seems to covet experience in winter traveling, and I think he will be the recipient of it this time. When Cox and I got in with the mail, all the neighbors c
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CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XV.
J AN. 23, 2 p. m.—I went out to look at the thermometer, when I heard the cackling of ptarmigan the other side of the river. Harry Reynolds and I armed ourselves and started out for game. We spotted the flock in a willow thicket where the sun, which nowadays is just at the horizon, had probably attracted them. Several of the birds were perched on top of the bushes, and were very conspicuous against the dark sky. We sneaked up to them and got a shot. Harry's gun got choked with snow and missed fi
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CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVI.
F EB. 8.—Mr. and Mrs. Samms left for the Mission yesterday. Harry Reynolds goes with them, and will either stay there or go down to the "Penelope." That lessens our number, but we will still have eleven in the house. C. C. talks of following them later. There will be no more prospecting done by this company this year, except by myself, and that for birds. I got a pair of muckluks in trade, and am now bartering for a pair of snowshoes. The snow is eighteen inches deep and very light and dry. I sh
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CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XVII.
F EB. 24. Friday. 9 p. m.—I went hunting for the first time on snowshoes. I got along famously until I struck a soft snowdrift, and the shoes turned on edge and I fell headlong. Otherwise I received no casualties and got over the ground rapidly, skirting the brushy margins of lakes back on the tundra and following up the creeks. I shot three rock ptarmigan, and learned many interesting items about their notes and habits, which are duly set down in my special bird notes. The weather is calm and c
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CHAPTER XVIII.
CHAPTER XVIII.
M ARCH 7, 1899.—I have succeeded at last in trading for two pairs of snowshoes, from some Eskimos who have just come up the river. The dickering engaged the entire afternoon, and I am completely exhausted. It is a stupendous undertaking to attempt to trade for anything. The natives want the earth, and then "some more." The following is an illustration of the proceedings: An Indian brings in a pair of snowshoes and we all rush to see them, commenting on their size and quality. "Mickaninny" (too s
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CHAPTER XIX.
CHAPTER XIX.
A PRIL 2. Sunday.—Evidently our Kowak church is dwindling. Only fifteen in attendance to-day. In C. C.'s absence Dr. Coffin and Uncle Jimmy conducted services. Van Dyke also took part. Miller and Van Dyke sang a duet. "Though Your Sins be as Scarlet." It was as fine as anything I remember to have heard anywhere. And this in our little cabin on the lonely Kowak: It snows a great deal and the north wind blows. Collecting is slow and birds are scarce. I got a couple of Siberian chickadees the other
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CHAPTER XX.
CHAPTER XX.
M AY 6. Saturday, 8 p. m.—This is the strangest May weather I have ever experienced. The wind has blown a gale from the north without a moment's cessation for four days. It is twenty-five degrees below the freezing point. I was in the vicinity of the Hanson Camp yesterday, but got no birds. I saw only one pair of chickadees and one redpoll. They were never so scarce all winter as now. The natives assure me that a change is due shortly, and then there will be "emik apazh," and the "ting emeruk" w
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CHAPTER XXI.
CHAPTER XXI.
J UNE 12.—We are steaming down one of the numerous channels of the Kowak delta, and I am sitting on the upper deck of the "Helen." The channel is narrow but deep and very tortuous. Half an hour ago we were going in an exactly opposite direction. The banks are low and are lined continuously with willows whose branches have not even budded out, although up the river we left the trees in full foliage, thus indicating the season to be much later along the coast than in the interior. We have met no i
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CHAPTER XXII.
CHAPTER XXII.
M ISSION INLET, Cape Blossom, July 1, 1898.—We came across Holtham Inlet in good order Tuesday. That was the only day so far that any steamers have come through. The weather was fine for us and a broad channel was open and clear of ice as far as the Mission. The same evening a west wind arose and the ice has been shifting back and forth across the inlet ever since. The "Riley," "Agnes Boyd," "delight," "Mattie Farington," "Nugget," and "Iowa" came through the same day, and all are here in the li
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CHAPTER XXIII.
CHAPTER XXIII.
C APE NOME, July 20.—After an eleven days' voyage from Kotzebue Sound we anchored off Anvil City on the morning of the 20th. Those eleven days make a nightmare. A succession of head gales with dense fogs. We were almost within sight of our destination when a southeaster began to hum through the rigging and a thick fog set in. The "Penelope" hove to and for two days we experienced a most disagreeable combination of rolling and pitching, with their inevitable conditions. When the clouds finally li
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CHAPTER XXIV.
CHAPTER XXIV.
C APE NOME, Alaska, Aug. 6, 1899.—It is Sunday evening again and I am reclining against my roll of blankets in the warm tent. Foote is playing the banjo, beautiful music, too! I never appreciated music until this trip. Foote's marches and familiar songs, associated as they are with the freedom of camp life and that feeling of rest after a day's work, have impressed their memory as the sweetest music I ever heard. We are still on our beach claims; that is, part of us. The "Penelope" is back at an
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CHAPTER XXV.
CHAPTER XXV.
B USTER CREEK, Cape Nome, Sept. 16, 1899.—A week ago Casey went to Anvil City, across country twelve miles, and brought a batch of mail, containing our first letters from home since our arrival here in answer to our own. I received six, which I have committed to memory, sitting alone in the cook tent. If people at home, the wide world over, would write faithfully to absent ones, there would be joy in many a wanderer's heart. Here we are, working like beavers, thirteen of us, including me, the co
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