Gold Hunting in Alaska

by Joseph Grinnell

In sledding, the dogs are tied by their harness strings alternately to a straight lead-rope. One dog is "leader," and he is the most intelligent of the pack. During the trip Cox walked about a hundred yards ahead of the lead dog, now and then turning back and whistling or calling. I walked behind, keeping the sled straight, and untangling the team when it got mixed up. Each dog has a name, and his character qualities become as well known to us as those of a human individual. Ours were named Emik, Kubuck, Auboon, Nanuk and Tingle. One day Emik jumped on to the dog that was not pulling his share and gave him a sound whipping. The whole pack joined in and I had to beat them off with a club.

Ordinary animals would have died of broken bones, but it took a "sore chastisement" to bring these dogs to their senses. Fights are frequent and always mean two or three minutes' delay In untangling the lines. The harnesses are provided with swivels or else the lines would soon become hopelessly twisted.

The two pipes I mentioned as part of the load, stuck out behind some eight feet beyond the sled, and many a time when the dogs slowed up suddenly my shins would come in contact with the sharp iron in a painfully emphatic manner. The crunching of the dry snow under the sled runners is a combination of sounds in which one can but imagine he hears familiar voices, and one falls to day-dreaming as he plods along, until he is surprised by running against the slacking sled or stepping into a hole.

The two nights we spent in the Eskimo igloo were interesting in detail. On the way down I was so tired that I paid little attention to anything, curling up and thankfully sleeping. On the return trip we made the igloo just at dusk. The trail was poor and the snow deep and the load heavy, so that we had made scarcely more than two miles to the hour. When we got within sight of the igloo the dogs pricked up their ears, as is their wont, and started forward at an increasing gait. Dogs will sometimes smell a camp long before it comes into view, and their quickened pace testifies to their hope of food. When our team rushed up to the igloo, we followed at a trot behind, and nearly all the inmates hurried out, curious to see us. These poor people are very hospitable, and at once invited us inside. We did not enter, however, until everything was attended to, for, after one has straightened out to rest before a warm fire, it is very hard to get up and crawl out again on stiffened limbs to attend to duties easier performed before one settles down. The native boys helped us to untie knots, and soon the dogs were loose, scurrying everywhere for bits of anything devourable, and frequently having a savage fight over some imaginary tidbit. Everything but the two iron pipes, which we trusted the dogs would not eat, was deposited on the scaffold for the night. This scaffold is a necessary feature of every igloo. It consists of a platform of poles and boughs raised about eight feet above the ground and supported on four posts. On this are stored all the fish, skins, nets, harnesses, sleds, kyaks, and, in fact, every article not needed for Immediate use in the igloo.

Native Igloo, with Scaffold for Stores.

After the dogs were fed, we took a blanket apiece and crawled into the igloo. We were motioned to a vacant place on one side, where we stretched out as far as the limits of the room permitted. This igloo was built like a Sioux wick-i-up. Long, slender poles are fastened into the ground at one end, bent over and lashed with thongs on the opposite side. These are planted about a foot apart all around, until the whole completed frame is like an inverted hemisphere. Over this are fastened thicknesses of spruce bark stripped from the trees in sheets one or two feet wide and twice as long. At the top a circular opening is left, a foot in diameter, for the exit of smoke. The whole structure is covered and packed with six inches of snow, which effectually keeps out every bit of wind and incidentally every particle of fresh air, except what steals in through the smoke-hole and door when they are open. The entrance is closed by several strips of sail-cloth attached above and weighted, so that it always hangs over the opening and completely covers it. When one enters he must get down on his hands and knees and, lifting up a corner of this canvas door, crawl through the passage. The door falls back into its place behind. The passageway is so narrow and low that a large man can with difficulty crawl through. The floor inside, with the exception of a space around the fireplace, is carpeted with slender willow saplings, laid parallel and fitted closely together, forming a fairly good paving or heavy matting, sufficient to protect the occupants from direct contact with the ground. A few old deerskins are spread out where the elders sleep. The space on the opposite side of the fireplace from the door is not occupied by anyone, but is filled with cooking utensils, the water bucket with its wooden dipper, carved wooden bowls, and birch bark baskets. In this igloo—about twelve feet in diameter—fifteen people live almost all the time, only going outside when they must for wood and water. No books to read, no politics to discuss, no school to get ready for, and no visiting to do. Once in this residence, we were allotted a space next to the oldest man of the igloo. We were content with our small lot, for we were tired and hungry.

Getting Supper Under Omiak-puk.

The light was furnished from seal oil. A plate of this, with a pinch of moss for a wick, furnished the light. The penetrating smell of burning seal oil is very stifling, and a white man can hardly stand it. Considering our distinguished character, these people dispensed with the oil and lighted candles instead, which I suppose had been obtained from the whites by trade. Our scanty grub-bag next claimed our attention and, considering it good policy under the peculiar circumstances, we distributed the remainder of the hardtack, which had been reduced to crumbs, among our hosts, who watched our every movement. We also had a little flour, but, as we had no means of cooking it, we presented that also to the woman on the far side of the igloo, who was apparently the mistress of ceremonies; for, although three other women were in the house, she carried all the water, chopped all the wood and prepared the meals. We made our supper from a can of corned beef and a loaf of bread, baked for us at the Kotzebue camp. Seeing our destitution, with true American hospitality the woman before mentioned left the igloo and shortly returned with a birch-bark basket about eighteen inches long by six inches wide full of a frozen mass of blueberries. This was evidently a "company dish," the best in her possession. She detached a large chunk of the preserves and placed it in a frying pan over the fire. As it melted into individual berries she stirred the mixture constantly. After the mess was thoroughly melted she passed the pan over to me, and, by the smell which arose, I was aware that the blueberries were put up in seal oil, as a sort of salad, I suppose. Cox declared his appetite lacked severity sufficient to tempt him to even taste the compound, but I was hungry enough to eat anything, and partly because I did not want to disappoint the motherly old woman, who had taken all that trouble to treat us to the greatest luxury possible, I ate with apparent relish. I did no more nor less than hundreds of my people do at any civilized banquet or even a meal at a friend's, when they pretend to like oysters or shrimps or anything from sheer politeness, the which they thoroughly detest. I got away with the entire panful, along with a slab of dried salmon given to me by the old man. These kind people evidently looked upon me as a good-natured, hungry little boy whom they enjoyed entertaining out of their natural hospitality of heart. I have no doubt my mother will long to grasp that old Eskimo woman's hand and possibly kiss her ugly but kind features, for the sake of her goodness to her "wandering boy."