HOW THE MAIL IS DELIVERED
I
UNCLE CHARLES WRITES FROM ALASKA
“There is the postman’s whistle,” said Mrs. Cameron.
Edith hurried to the door, for a letter was expected from Uncle Charles, who was in Alaska. Soon she scampered back into the room, waving an envelope in her hand. “Is it from Uncle Charles?” she asked, as she handed the letter to her mother.
“Yes,” replied Mrs. Cameron, having opened the envelope, “it is from your uncle.”
Grandpa, Mr. Cameron, and Edith prepared to listen; for receiving a letter from Uncle Charles was always a very interesting event. The letter was as follows:
Fort Yukon, Alaska, July 4, 19—.
My dear Sister: Even in far-off Alaska this is a holiday, although it is not such a day as you are having in Boston. This morning some of the men fired off revolvers and rifles; but as there are few children in the camp, we have no fireworks.
Fort Yukon is on the Yukon River, about six hundred fifty miles from the mouth, and almost exactly on the Arctic Circle. The fort was established by an agent of the Hudson Bay Company one hundred sixty years ago, but it is still a small place.
Although we lack many things, we have one thing that Boston people do not have—sunshine night and day; that is, at this time of the year. It would seem very strange to you to see the sun shining at midnight; but that is what we see here on June twenty-first. During the winter we see the sun but a short time each day.
The summer weather is warm and pleasant, and our gardens grow rapidly. But the summer season is short, and we cannot grow many things which need a long time to ripen. The winters are long and bitterly cold. At a few feet below the surface the ground is frozen all of the year.
This letter will leave here to-morrow morning on a little steamboat and go down the Yukon to its mouth, and from there to St. Michael, where the mail will be transferred to a larger ship. That ship will carry it to Seattle, and it will then be carried across the continent by a swift railway train.
About the middle of October the river will freeze and remain frozen until about the first of May. Probably you will not hear from me more than once or twice during that time, for our winter mail trains are slow because they are drawn by dogs.
A team often consists of six or seven dogs hitched tandem. They come in from Valdez, far to the south. The trail follows the ice-covered rivers and lakes and crosses high mountains.
There is always great excitement when the mail reaches Fort Yukon.
Our nearest telegraph station is at Rampart, more than one hundred fifty miles southwest; so you see we are shut off from the rest of the world.
I must tell you how the mail is delivered between Kotzebue and Point Barrow. Kotzebue is west of this place, on the coast, and Point Barrow is on the Arctic coast. A Mr. S. R. Spriggs has a contract with the United States government to carry the mail. This he does during the winter by means of reindeer. The route is about two hundred fifty miles long.
I expect to receive a letter from you by the next boat that comes in. Tell Edith that I am looking for a letter from her, also. With much love,
Your brother,
Charles.