But now, how shall the lot be got on the boat. Luckily, one of the Eskimo that has been working for me has a dog team and sled. So I engage these; and shortly after we finish putting everything in order—in the presence now of Doctor Goodman, who comes to look at us—the man arrives, with a good-sized sled and 13 whitish dogs. Load all the bags on—and then a sight never to be forgotten—the dogs pulling the load across the tundra, depressions, gravels, right down to the water's edge and to the motor boat that is waiting for us. How they strained, pulled with all will, and obeyed. A wise leader in front, six pairs behind. No reins, only a few calls from the Eskimo, and they knew just what to do. Tried to photograph them, but light already poor—advancing season. (Pl. 9, a. b.)
Then hurry to the teacher, not home; to La Voy, not home. Find teacher in tent, sick, trembling; I fear beginning of typhoid. Did not get anything for me in our absence. La Voy promised to give me some things from his collections, but now is not here. A native woman, however, meets me far out on the beach, and I learn she has dug out for me since our first visit five good skulls from the ground—some, she shows, deep to above the elbow. She has them near the ship—we go on—on the road boys and women overtake me with a few things to sell. Then the woman brings her skulls, in a bag on her back, in excellent condition. I pay her for her trouble. Reach our boat, and the bell on the Bear rings 9.30.
The bone pile—the sled and dogs and load over the tundra—the woman carrying a native (seal) bag with skulls—will be three rare, indelible pictures.
On the Bear at 10. A little sandwich, fruit, and a cinnamon cake with coffee, and to bed. But irritating tire-cough keeps me up for another hour.
Friday, 13th. Packing. A nice day. Toward evening stop at Kevalina. Obtain a few things and pictures. To bed soon, but cough still bothers. I have nothing for it; there is but little on the boat in the way of medicines outside of the most ordinary things.
Saturday, 14th. Up 5.30, early breakfast, and 6.45 start once more for Kotzebue. The Bear has anchored about 12 miles off, so do not reach village until 8.35, and have to go back at 9.10. Rush to store, get boxes, barrels, and packing. And then to the schoolhouse, where I expect some information about the skeleton found under the house and obtained on my former visit. Also promised information from Mr. Chance, the supervisor, about old sites. But Mr. Chance is gone, and no letter or message—it came later, to Washington. A few words with the teacher, and one of the boys from our boat is already calling me.
Return at 11 a. m. and spend the rest of the day packing, finishing just at supper. A curious sunset at 8, a horizontally banded sun, several clear-cut, fairly broad, dark bands. Sea getting rougher.
Sunday, August 15. Bad sea, wind, waves, fog. Have to take to bed and do without breakfast. Stay in until lunch. We could not stop again at Shishmareff; could not get ashore. The next stop, late afternoon, is to be at the Little Diomede, to take off Jenness; but if too rough we shall go on to Teller. The wind is from the northwest and the foghorn keeps on blowing.
The whole day continues rough, foggy, unfriendly. The ship can not stop at the Diomede, nor go to Teller; obliged to go to Nome. After supper all chairs and movable articles have to be tied up. Most day in bed, but escaped real seasickness, and got some sleep.
Monday, 16. Weather moderated. We are in lee of the mountainous part of Seward Peninsula. After breakfast off Nome, and at 11 a. m. in town. First stop at Lomen's. Then from one to another till 4.55 p. m., when Dan Sutherland, the Alaska Delegate to Congress, escorts me to the boat. Saw many friends, got some mail, and, best of all, got a fine deposit collection for the National Museum from Mr. Carl Lomen. The judge asked me for another lecture for next Saturday, when we are to see Nome for the last time.