March 20.—My eyes are smarting with snow blindness while I write. They feel full of sand. To-day the sun shone and the glare was dreadful. Last evening I went down to the Hanson camp and spent the night with Dr. Gleaves, and to-day have been hunting jays. I found one nest just started and feel very much elated. It was only by accident that I found it, for the birds are so shy. I saw a jay flying in the direction of a strip of spruces, but lost sight of it on account of intervening timber. I did not see the birds again, but followed in the direction of their flight, keeping up a systematic search through the spruces. By chance I caught sight of a small aggregation of twigs in a young tree, which, by a few tell-tale feathers clinging around the edge, gave me the scent. The nest was not more than half built and I made haste to leave the vicinity so as not to disturb the birds. I think the full set of eggs will be ready in about three weeks. This, with the snow several feet deep and the landscape white! I returned to Dr. Gleaves' in time for dinner at two o'clock, and was treated to "Gleaves' Justly Celebrated," which is an original soup of the doctor's own concoction.
After a half day's tramp on snowshoes through deep, damp snow, one enjoys a dinner of the "Gleaves' consomme," hash, baked sweet potato and sweet corn.
Last night an Eskimo died at the village, and every savage neighbor of the deceased has moved into tents out of their warm igloos, which are vacated for good. They are all going to move across the river and put up wick-i-ups. The person who died was an old woman who went by the natural route of old age. She was dragged out of her igloo a few yards and left in the snow, for the dogs to eat up, we are told, as she had no especial friends. C. C.'s instinct was aroused, and he and Dr. Coffin went up to attend to the ceremonies. Wonderful to relate, the undertaker did not bury the body, but put it on a scaffold in true native style. He is being convinced that this is the proper form of burial. It is expected that he will institute the same on his return to California.
March 24.—Guy Solsbury and Joe Jury returned from their trip to look after the barge. Guy has some big stories to relate about their "perilous trip," which is the identical one Cox and I made last New Year's. They have been absent two weeks, part of the time snowed in. We shall probably have a full account of it in the San Jose "Mercury" next summer. It will bring the mercury down. Colclough came up with them. He had been to the Mission, and brought us a letter from Harry Reynolds and Captain Delano, who report everything "all right." Several men have lately come down the Kowak. The word from everywhere, Naatak, Buckland, Allashook, Koyukuk, and the entire Kowak region, is "nothing." Men are waiting impatiently for spring to open up so they can "go home." C. C., Rivers and Clyde are now waiting for the boys to come down from the upper camp, when they will all go down to the "Penelope." There is little of note going on about the cabin these days. We have altogether too much sunshine. The doctor and I were hunting ptarmigan Thursday. We tramped seven hours and never saw a bird save a few redpolls and a small squad of chickadees. As a result of his tramp the doctor is laid up with snow blindness. I am not so far affected. I cannot hunt with snow-glasses on, as they dim the vision. But I have some natural advantage. My ancestors, who did not hunt ptarmigan on the Kowak, bequeathed to me a pair of rather deep-set eyes with roofing brows, which are the best protection.
"Doctor Charley," the Eskimo who received so much kindness from Dr. Coffin last fall, has been anxious to return the courtesy, and yesterday his opportunity came.
The doctor was attacked with snow blindness with great suffering. Dr. Charley called on him professionally, and advised him to try a treatment at the hands of his wife, who was a specialist in eye cases of this nature. The doctor was ready to submit to almost anything at the hands of his friends, thinking that perhaps they might possess some secret worthy of note. Such proved to be the case. Indian Charley's wife called and looked at the patient's eyes, swollen and inflamed and painful to a degree. She pointed to some toothpicks on the cabin table, and, being told to "proceed." she whittled three of them to a sharp point. Handing one to the suffering doctor, she bade him thrust it into his nostril. He did so and found to his astonishment that the mucous membrane was without sensation. Obeying his doctress, he continued to thrust in the point of this pick and likewise the two others, when a hemorrhage of considerable severity occurred. This was the thing greatly to be desired. In an hour the nose was inflamed and very painful, but the eyes were relieved. After a few hours both nose and eyes were normal, and the doctor believes the operation rational. He declares that he will practice it upon himself and others at the first opportunity. When he returns to California he will doubtless hang out his sign as "Specialist on Snow Blindness." Only there is no snow in California. I will remind him of this fact.
We have a "scurvy trail" now, and every day it is traveled. There are two cases at the Los Angeles Camp. Our boys keep busy at something. Rivers started the idea of making rustic furniture, and several others followed. This resulted in a search through the woods nearly every day for crooked birch sticks. Piles of these awkward "crooks" adorn our back yard, only a select few ever coming up to all the requirements of a "natural crook." They might be of some use as stove wood, but it is impossible to get at them with a saw. The doctor spent days and days whittling out candle-sticks, and so must C. C. It is nice to have something to keep the people busy. It helps time to limp by. One of our "best and bravest" walks the floor as if he had the toothache, he is so homesick. He will not let Eskimo Charley treat him for nostalgia.
March 30.—To-day the crowd left for the Mission. They are C. C., Clyde, Cox, Rivers, Alec and a Mr. Driggs, a stranger. The most of them will stay on the "Penelope" at Escholtz Bay, and be on hand there to help when the ice breaks up. Miller, who came down from the upper camp, will remain here with us. That leaves us live. Dr. Coffin. Uncle Jimmy. Brownie. Miller and myself. It is a relief after the congestion. Yesterday we had seventeen for dinner. The doctor is trying his hand at cooking now. He is a specialist on toasted cheese and macaroni. We expect to have this combination served up three times a day, or until the material is exhausted. We each seem to have our culinary idiosyncrasies; Cox for light bread and pea soup; Rivers for beans; C. C. for pie; and I for mush and hash.
This man Driggs has joined our company till we get back to the States. He is a sailor and navigator, with captain's papers, and may be of use to us later. We have also another prospective addition to our numbers, a Mr. Van Dyke, a preacher. He will join us in the spring and take passage on the "Penelope." He knows of a "sure thing." He says that on his way up here last year his party stopped on the mainland near Sledge Island, and he and another man in three hours panned out two dollars' worth of gold from a creek bed. He had the gold in a bottle last fall and some of our boys examined it.
That is certainly a much better prospect than we have heard of this side of Circle City; that is, that we have any reason to rely on. He joins us under the condition that we furnish him passage back to the States if nothing results, but he promises to take us to this place within two days, towing up a stream from the coast, and he firmly believes himself that he has a "sure thing." We shall see. We have heard so many stories of this sort that even a preacher cannot arouse much enthusiasm. However, we have taken up his offer and will sail for the place indicated as soon as the "Penelope" can get away from her moorings. I'd give five dollars for the chance to pan out two dollars' worth of gold-dust.