Oh, yes. Van Dyke says that he met an Indian near Sledge Island who had nuggets, and took him to a spot covered many feet by a snowdrift, which he assured him was a mother lode, or something that sounded very nice. Ah. I'd like to see a mother lode! She's what we are after.
Ancient Indian Grave.
CHAPTER XIX.
A
APRIL 2. Sunday.—Evidently our Kowak church is dwindling. Only fifteen in attendance to-day. In C. C.'s absence Dr. Coffin and Uncle Jimmy conducted services. Van Dyke also took part. Miller and Van Dyke sang a duet. "Though Your Sins be as Scarlet." It was as fine as anything I remember to have heard anywhere. And this in our little cabin on the lonely Kowak: It snows a great deal and the north wind blows. Collecting is slow and birds are scarce. I got a couple of Siberian chickadees the other day. They are good birds to have, an Asiatic species which boils over into Alaska a little. This makes three species of chickadees I have found here—the long-tailed. Hudsonian and Siberian. Wood-peckers are drumming on the dead spruces, but I take care to keep away from them. Miller continues to be my partner in taxidermy. We are planning to stop at Dutch Harbor next winter.
April 12.—Busy days are beginning to come and I have less time for my diary. We get more sunshine than is convenient. To-day is cooler, fifteen degrees below zero again. We used to think there wasn't much snow in this country, but are learning our mistake. It snows every day and is three feet deep on a level. The doctor and I spent the last four days at the Jesse Lou Camp. I got thirty-eight birds and a porcupine skin. Miller and I are hard at work upon them. The doctor is laid up with snow blindness again. We had a feast at Jesse Lou on porcupine, boiled, roasted and stewed. It is like veal and fine eating. An Indian shot it. Many people are traveling on the river, so as to get as far as the Mission before the ice breaks up. Scurvy is on the increase. Two more men have died of it at Ambler City. Four at the Iowa cabins are down with it. None of us are in the least affected. Brownie is cook now and we have plenty to eat. Miller and I have begun trading some of our bird skins for personal supplies for next winter at Dutch Harbor. We traded a pair of ptarmigan for a sack of flour and fourteen pounds of bacon to-day. We can get almost anything we ask in trade for bird skins, but money is scarce. After tramping all day have just had a magnificent dinner. Here, as elsewhere, something to eat is the first need. The doctor and I have had fine success. Got twenty-three rock ptarmigan. But we are tired and the poor doctor is attacked again. He is at this moment applying a solution of boracic acid to his eyes. I continue unaffected. We are sun-burned as dark as natives. For a while I burnt-corked my face, but no need of it now. I wear a broad-brimmed, black slouch hat, drawn close over my eyes, and find it better than snow-glasses.
April 15.—Twenty degrees below zero. The Indians say that in the last thirteen years there were three summers when the ice never melted out of Kotzebue Sound at all. And they say this is just like those years, no snow until late. When the snow comes early it prevents the water and the ground from freezing so deep. Men are beginning to worry about our condition. The ice in the river is seven feet thick, and there isn't snow enough to float out all the ice when it melts, so they say. Last winter there were seven or eight feet of snow, and now only two or three feet. It does look dreary for those who are in a hurry to get out.
I was out to-day on snowshoes. I like them. One acquires a long, sliding gait that is very easy. On the ridge back of the Guardian Camp I had a fine view of the country north and west. The snow is drifted over the west side of the ridges by the east winds, forming great shelving banks with protruding crests twenty to forty feet above their bases. We are getting almost enough sunshine to start a thaw. Miller has gone to Ambler City in the interests of our new "firm." He will look after the jays in that vicinity.
I had almost forgotten to record the latest excitement. The "Flying Dutchman" arrived Thursday from St. Michaels. He has a dog team and is hurrying on up the river, expecting to return to Cape Nome before the thaw comes. The news he brought is of a "big strike" at Cape Nome on the coast near Sledge Island. "Richer than Klondike." Three men took out $600 in "ten hours." There may be some truth in it, as this is about the place Van Dyke was to take us to. But I am hard to convert to any gold proposition now. I shall have to see it to fully believe it. All are excited over this rumor, but it is useless to think of travel. We got a letter from the "Penelope" crew stating that Harry Reynolds and Jett had already started for the new gold fields. They took grub and a team of dogs, so our company will be represented at Cape Nome. I am afraid to think there is something in it. It excites one unduly after the disappointments of a year. The "Flying Dutchman" says flour is ten dollars a sack at Cape Nome and other things to eat as high. We heard that C. C. and party had reached the Kotzebue camp after a hard pull. Rivers and Clyde gave out and had to be hauled to camp. Several were snow blind. They had hired two Eskimos to draw the sled to the schooner. Such is life in the Arctics.