Black Beaver, the Trapper

by James Campbell Lewis; George Edward Lewis

We were traveling the next day down the river when one of the boys saw a sleigh setting up a gainst a hill of ice, I went over to examine it and found it to be an Eskimo's Igloo. I got down on my knees and crawled into the hole on the south side. Inside were nine Eskimos, they quickly grabbed their lances, but I spoke to them in their language and they seemed pleased and soon layed down their spears and made me welcome. I backed out of the door and told the boys what I had found, we all went into the house and in less than ten minutes at least one hundred Eskimos were around the hut. Manny of them had never seen a white man and we were to them a wonder they would walk around us and look at us like a batch of monkeys. I gave the Chief's wife a small hand glass and they all looked into it and behind it like so many animals. I presented the chief with a watch and he gave me a Silver Fox in return. The Eskimos are great Pot-latchers That means givers to each other. they are very free hearted They seldom own anything very long at one time it is given from one to another constantly. We were planning to go on toward the Mouth of Gold river but the Chief told me his daughter was to be married in two moons: we stayed to attend the wedding. So I had a privelege to ascertain how the Eskimos make love and are married. If a girl is in love with an Eskimo she sends for him and combs his hair with her fingers. If he loves her he returns again if not he does not. they are engaged exclusively by the parents, then afterward are informed they are to be married. They are usually married in the moonlight the parents of the bride and groom pronounce the cerimony. The bride and groom stand in the center, over a lamp, around them are their parents. around the parents are the next nearest relatives, them around them again are the friends. All form a circle and the inner circle march to the right the next circle march to the left—thus alternating As many times as there are circles. at this wedding there were about ten big circles and they looked funny enough under those bright stars and the great moon painting the ice and snow as far as the eye could reach, all dressed in fur going in opposite directions. They were given an ice house and the bottom was covered a foot thick with fine furs. I explained to the chief whose name was Snatch-bow, about the warm weather in the south, he watched me in wonder and then stood up and said "Injun have no house he all melt. I no go there" Of course he said this in Eskimo. In his house was a few pieces of furniture. In the center was the knuckle bone of a macedon with a nice dish shaped top this was filled with oil, a string was laid in this; and one end lighted this was their only light. This lamp served also as a nurseing bottle for the babies. They had two round pieces of driftwood they used for chairs. In another hut I found they used hollow bones filled with oil for lamps with a cover over them and a wick made of a sea-weed. The squaws would lift the cover and take a sip out of the lamp and then go on with their work. Oil is their favorite drink. The Eskimos are very hardy so far as enduring cold is concerned—I saw an Eskimo bobbing—that is how they fish—hold a fish on a string just under water and as the big fish comes after it they spear it with a spear they hold in their other hand—This man was bobbing and his squaw was sitting on the shore watching him. on her bosom lay a babe about three months old, it was rapped around with a piece of fur its face was partly bare, it was snowing fine snow resembling frost, it was about 65° below zero, as I passed I saw they snow in the babies face and wondered it was not dead just think of a babe under such an temperature sleeping with the snow falling in its tender face. It seems utterly impossible but it is true. But when you look for strength long life endurance or inteligence in the Eskimo you seek in vain. They all have sore matterated eyes, one fifth of them are deformed. one in ten has the consumption. and the average life of the Eskimo is about 30 years. They average to weigh about 90 pounds and stand about four feet and six inches high.

They are perfectly friendly even if they never saw a white man. They wrap up the dead in skins and hang them up, they freeze still and so remin till eaten by some wild beast. The Eskimos are beyond doubt the happiest people on earth, they never lie, steal, cheat, murder nor mix in family intercourse so common among all other indians. They have absolutely no religion, no expectation of ever coming to life when once dead. They are very ignorant and dirty their huts are black with smoke, their faces are oiled and covered with black from the oil smoke. Their huts never get warmer than the freezing point. they undress when they sleep. and use fish to cook their food, when they cannot get driftwood.

A great deal of driftwood floats in around the river mouth which is carried to the Arctic Ocean by the Great Mackinzie river and is distribuated all allong the shore and picked up in the summer and used in the winter. This wood providentialy sent is certainly a blessing to the Eskimos of this region.

As I passed from hut to hut trading, I chanced to run across some indians from Candle Creek where I first learned to talk Eskimo. They were very glad to see me and used me fine making it very pleasant for us. One night while traveling from one town to another—for it was nearly all night at that time—two of my men were robbed—that was a piece of wonderment in these parts and in the life of the oldest indian it had never happened. As soon as the boys reported I took the Kidd and we set out to stop the thief—we went less than five miles when we overtook a rather unusual large Indian which I at once reconized as The worst Desperado in Alaska—he had killed several white men and about fifty of his own tribe, I first met him at Candle Creek, I pulled my gun and ordered him to put up his dukes—he did and I said John Spoon I know you and I guess you know me, unload that gold and those furs you took from my men or, I'll let daylight through you—He did a great stunt of obeying he was scared half to death, I had a notion to kill the other half. I was a fool to let him off so easy—But I always hate to shoot even an indian. Well we worked down to the Sea, and a few hours each day dug at placer mining. after forty eight days we took our gold about $4,455,00 and set out for the mouth of the Mackinzie river. This was a terrorable trip The sea had piled up ice-burgs so we had to travel allong the mountain side—Our hardships had been extreme and as we neared the Delta of the great River one day I noticed The Galloping Swede was loosing his mind, or getting crazy with hardships, which is the most incurable of all diseases, He had been snow blind, had had sore eyes, was homesick and lonesome, and the added over exposeures had ruined that bright and cultured mind. Lee Wilda—for this is his name had been with me a long time. his home was in Minnesota, his father was dead but he had a mother and a sister. Twice on our way we had to let our dogs and plunder over ice precipreses, with our lash ropes. Finaly we reached Coleville river and crossed over. it was about a half mile wide at the mouth. Just after crossing over this stream we saw 148 Polar bears on one cake of ice feeding on a dead whale. Allong this trip so near the sea we saw hundreds of seals, and walrus and killed a Muskox the most rare animal in the world. After over forty days we reached the mouth of the Mackinzie river, it is about eight miles across the mouth, and drains The great baer lake, the great slave lake, the lesser slave lake, The peace river the Athabaska river and hundreds of tributaries in to the Sea. It was nearing spring, we had no calendar, and did not even know the month of the year. We were glad: our sleighs were getting worn out, so were our snow shoes, and our provission was nearly gone and Lee was a raving maniac. We still had the main range of the Rocky mountains to cross. We came to a small station about one hundred miles up the Teal river: but the frenchman refused us anything to eat. He was buying fur for a fur Co. and wanted to kill off all indipendent traders. Without his consent I took what grub I wanted, he did not like it much permit me to say—but he choose this in preference to cold lead, I left him his full pay and begn our weary march to head of the Porcupine river. just before we reached the porcupine We met an indian prospector and gave him ten dollars for a pan of flour, and so got on to Fort Yukon.

Our feet were sore, so were our eyes, we were tired and worn out. We rested a few days and agin hit the road, we follwed down the Yukon to the Tannana and up this river a long ways and then struck across The mountains to the Kuskakwim river. And as we were going down marten creek One of my dogs bit me: he tore off the hole end of my finger. It was a bad bite the weather was very cold, and I could not give it proper care. Four days later blood poison set in, my hand began to swell and pain me, worst of all we were loaded with Polar bear seal and white fox. My hand grew worse and worse I could not travel any longer so we had to throw away all our Polar bear and the dogs had to draw me. It was so cold that I had to walk at times, this lasted for eleven days. And for eleven nights, I walked around while the other boys slept. After this time we struck Shushitna Station then we made Knik. from here we started for Seldovia but were foundered for two days near Fire Islands. when Maud the Moose picked us up and took us to Seldovia. Here a Government nurse operated on my finger and by her skill and my nerve she saved my life. After four weeks I shipped on the Portland for Seattle leaving my men to go back to the claims and stay till I could return. With the exception of Lee Wilda he we sent to Seward to a doctor. During the most excruciating pain I sold my Mine known as the Roving Trapper and completed my Journey to the States, carrying with me a Dr. and A Trained Nurse.

After a long and dedious journey we reached Seattle and there I was confined to a room in the Hospital for four weeks—after which I took the overland limited for Michigan. One the fourth day of June I landed in the old town of my Childhood—Fife Lake.

I learned that my Father and mother still lived but had long since sold the farm and kept a small store in town. Once I could have named every individual I met—but now as I walked up the hill from the depot I was an entire stranger—Twenty years makes a great change, Many were my meditations as I walked over the little marsh where I had so often passed when a mere child. I entered the old store, the one in which I spent my babyhood—where Father ran store before he bought the farm An old lady stooped, and seamed came in to ascertain that which I wanted, had I have been any other place I could not have gussed who she was, I told her I wanted a quarters worth of Cigars, I sat down upon the old chest which I still remembered, and began to smoke, memory was busy—Could this be my mother, I saw her last twenty years before, her locks were black as a raven's wing, her eyes like stars in mid-winter, her form straight agile and graceful—A horrorable thought seized me—I threw away the cigar and walked over to mother and told her I was her baby—I took her in my arms—It was a severe shock to mother, she had long mourned me dead, together we wept, she for joy, but I for the greatest mistake of my lifetime those twenty long years of prodigality. No man ever repented more bitterly over his rash and careless actions than I did that fourth day of june.

Presently my Father came in—he too was old and gray—that step which had ever been so nimble and elastic was now abated, he did not recognize me—till he saw mother had been crying then his suspiction was aroused and I broke down—father took me one his lap; kissed me and welcomed me home.—Boys I have made a great mistake,—I can never recover the loss connected with this carelessness by all means never patron my example.