We hurry on to the other village and burial ground, almost a mile west of the present settlement. Find only a small pile of bones, with one whole male skeleton of fairly recent date.
Then back, as fast as possible, the Indians carrying the bags with bones, and load on boat. My shoes and feet have long since become thoroughly wet, after which Mr. Wegner loaned me wool socks and native shoes that protected my feet. But now these must be left behind and I have to get into my wet, cold shoes—socks too wet. Officers in a hurry to get back. It is now 3.00 a. m.; the sun rose about 1.30. Pay my men, change shoes, photograph women (pl. 8) and then men—all pleasant and willing. See a few poor articles of archeological nature—not worth getting; and after a hearty handshake with the teacher we take off through the somewhat rougher water to the whaleboat, then on to the motor boat and the ship. Arrive with six bags of specimens, reaching boat just a little after 4. Sleepy captain meets us, but luckily shows no grudge, though this stop and his loss of sleep were essentially for me. Though it would seem they could have readily waited for our going ashore until morning, or have given me a little more time at the Diomedes, which would have brought us here later. Am too much awake now and worked up to sleep. Lie down a while but fully awake. Total sleep last night 2½ hours. But it was worth it, except for the vandalism.
Pack—inadequate boxes—until 3.30 p. m. Whole collection made last night put in order. But back and knees stiff. Weather two-thirds fair (my own estimate), some wind, sea choppy. Lie down but can not sleep.
At 5.30 off Kotzebue. Due to shallowness of water must anchor far out of sight. At 6 go to land in ship's larger launch. Waves rather bad, much tossing about and spray, have to get behind the canvas canopy that is raised over one seat. It is 15 miles from where the Bear is anchored to the Kotzebue village—over two hours of (at times) rather violent tossing up and down and sidewise. Run for a part of the time not far from beach—a number of isolated, orderly fish camps—lots of fish drying. Wonder at not getting seasick again—it must be the open air or difference of movement.
Kotzebue village lies around a point on a not very high, flat bank, facing the bay of three rivers (Selavik, Kobuk, Noatak). As we approach I count over 50 clean tents of Eskimos, about 15 frame houses and stores, and many skin and other boats on beach or in water. Many natives hurry to meet us.
Go ashore. Thomas Berryman, the trader, with the local judge and two or three other whites come also to meet us. After getting acquainted inquire about possibility of exploring the Kobuk and reaching the Koyukuk and Yukon. But all that I learn is uncertain and discouraging. There are but few native villages on the river, all Eskimo; and higher up the water is rapid, necessitating much hauling of the boat by the natives, which is costly; upon which follow three or four days' portage. The trip would cost much, and no loads over 40 pounds to a man could be carried.
Only a few old sites hereabouts are known by those whom I have a chance to ask. Say there is a somewhat important one at Cape Krusenstern. Mr. Berryman has from there a big stone (slate) lance. He also has a huge piece of serpentine, over 80 pounds in weight, with a moderate depression in top and some cutting (old native work), said to have been used as a lamp. Wants to keep this and spearhead, but donates an old rusty tin box full of smaller things and promises to obtain skulls for us; and I get a similar promise from a man (probably one of Mr. Berryman's storekeepers) from farther up the country.
Later meet here Mr. Chance, the school superintendent of these parts; a young and not prepossessing man, but one who steadily improves on closer acquaintance. Learn from him of a skeleton recently dug out from the ground under the schoolhouse.
See many natives, all Eskimo, good looking, clean, and kind. Some mix bloods, but the majority pure. Good to moderate stature, well proportioned though not fat body, medium to somewhat lighter brown color, physiognomies less typical Eskimo than hitherto and often strongly like Indian. Too late and dusky to photograph.
Go to see the teacher and find that the skeleton he dug out was placed by him in an open box, pushed as far as possible under the rafters of the floor of the schoolhouse and covered with gravel and earth. There are four of us—start hurriedly digging for it, remove with shovel, hoe and arms about a ton of the "filling"—and can not reach the box. It is 10 p. m., the wind rising, officer comes and urges me to get back to the boat. So must leave with promise that the box will be gotten out and await me on our return from the north. Have by this time decided the best policy will be to go with the Bear as far as she may go. Load empty boxes, some packing—and one of the young white men who have been digging with us runs up from the distant schoolhouse announcing that they "struck" the box. Urge him to run back as fast as he can and get it. Luckily the postmaster and a good many others who came to see us off delay us; also the transfer of the mail and boxes to the larger boat. Finally, after a good many anxious looks, I see at last the two young men appear, one with a wheelbarrow on which is the box of bones. Bones look not very old, and Eskimoid at first sight, but take box, which contains a good deal of gravel, carry it through the very interested Eskimo to the boat, all get in, hurried good-bys to everybody, and we are off.