A Woman who went to Alaska

by May Kellogg Sullivan

I had no difficulty in arranging for lessons with the captain's wife, who would also study with her little girl, she said, and she showed me school books, slates, etc., they had already been using. If their piano were only here, the child, who is a pretty little thing, with a sweet smile, might take music lessons, but it cannot be brought over the winter trail.

We had snow today, but no church service. We rested, sang, read, ate and slept. A fine dinner of reindeer roast, with good gravy, mashed potatoes, etc., for our two o'clock meal, was eaten and well relished; but in spite of all the day seemed a long one for some reason. We wonder how things are going on the outside and if the friends we love but cannot hear from are well, happy, and think sometimes of us.

The Commissioner came to say that he would bring the Recorder, or Commissioner, from the Koyuk district with him to call this evening, and he did so. The latter is a middle-aged man, whose family lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota, he himself being a native born Norwegian, but having lived in the States for twenty years. They brought two United States marshals with them, and one of them played on the guitar quite well, though I thought I detected a scent of the bottle when he sang his songs. He has a good voice, but untrained.

Yesterday it was fifteen degrees below zero, but grew warmer toward night, and began snowing. Today it snowed quite hard until dark. Along the shore huge blocks of ice lay heaped promiscuously, and deep drifts rolled smoothly everywhere. When I grew tired walking I stopped a moment and listened. There was no sound but the beating of my own heart. This then was our new Arctic world. How wonderfully beautiful it was in its purity and stillness. Look whichever way I would, all was perfect whiteness and silence. When I walked the snow scarcely creaked under my feet. Above, beneath, around, it was everywhere the same. It was a solemn stillness, but ineffably sweet and tender. It was good to live. A feeling of sweetest peace and happiness swept over me, and tears sprang to my eyes. Was this heaven? It almost seemed like it, but glancing toward the grave of the murdered man on the hillside I remembered that this could not be. Farther down the shore line, when I started to go home, I saw the smoke of the cabins, through the veil of the snowflakes.

While giving Jennie her lessons this afternoon the Commissioner came in to say that he would like me to do some copying for him, for as yet he has no clerk, and needs one. I told him I would do the work if I might take it home, and could get a quiet corner by myself. I hardly see how I am to manage that while there are so many people in the house, but I shall try it, for I would like to earn the money.

This morning it was three degrees above zero; yesterday it was fifteen below.

A full moon hung high in the sky this morning until nine o'clock. Weather is warm and beautiful, with rosy clouds at sunrise, but it grew colder by noon.

Among other things Mary has brought from Nome is her little hand sewing machine, which is an old-fashioned thing, to be fastened to a table and the wheel turned by hand. It was brought from the old country, and looks quite well worn, but is still useful and far better than no machine, if it does have a chain stitch which is liable to rip easily. We have a lot of amusement with this machine, for when Alma is sewing and one of the boys happens to be idle about her she makes him turn the wheel while she guides the cloth and watches the needle.