A Woman who went to Alaska

by May Kellogg Sullivan

I did not blame her; I laughed too. The little child looked exceedingly funny as she stood there in that wonderful garment, with black eyes shining like beads, and face perfectly unsmiling, as she nearly always looks, wondering why it was we were laughing.

October twenty-fourth the boys worked all day at making the house more comfortable for winter, nailing tar paper upon the north side, where some clapboards were missing, putting on storm or double windows outside of the others, and filling the cracks with putty. A couple of the boys also worked at hauling supplies of apples and potatoes from the warehouse by dog-team, putting the eatables into the cellar under the kitchen, which was well packed in with hay. This cellar was a rude one, and in summer frequently filled with water from the surface and the hill above the house, making it not altogether wholesome at times, but by management, it was still being used for some things, and of course, in cold weather, it made no difference, for everything was solidly frozen.

Snow enough had fallen by this time, a little coming quietly down every few hours, to make fair roads for the sleds, the ground being quite hard; while Fish River and adjoining creeks were fast freezing over, as were also the waters of the bay.

In the evening Mr. H. came in, and we all gathered in the sitting room, some sewing, some mending, but all chatting pleasantly. The missionary had just been informed, he told us, of a gold strike on the Kuskokquim River, some one having only recently returned from St. Michael, and brought the report. From that place men were leaving for the new diggings each day, and it might or might not prove a bona fide strike. With reindeer, on a good winter trail, this distance would not be a formidable trip, Mr. H. told us.

This was the information we wanted to hear, and it probably started a train of golden dreams that night in more than one head, which was long in stopping, especially when he informed us that every acre of land around us was then staked out in quartz claims, though no extensive prospecting had yet been done, and we were pleased at finding ourselves "so near" even though we were "yet so far."

Today was a birthday for Mr. G., and he was teased unmercifully for his age, but would not give it, so those who had known him the longest tried their best to figure it out from incidents in his life and from narratives of his own, and made it out to their satisfaction as about thirty-two years, though he refused (like a woman) to the very last, to tell them if they were guessing correctly.

The next day it still snowed a little at intervals between clouds and sunshine, and all "tenderfeet" were more comfortable indoors. Miss E. and Ricka had gone the day before with the boys and Mr. H. to the Home on a scow-load of lumber, though we feared it was pretty cold for them without shelter on the water; but with the wind in the right direction, they wanted to attempt it, and so started. They were to look the new building over for the first time, Miss E. being much interested in the inside arrangement of rooms, naturally, as it was to be her home and field of labor, and rightly thinking a womanly suggestion, perhaps, might make the kitchens more handy.

In their absence the rest of us continued our sewing, Miss L. taking Miss E.'s place in the kitchen, with help from the larger Eskimo girls at dish washing. The latter were docile and smiling, and one little girl called Ellen was always exceedingly careful to put each cup and saucer, spoon and dish in its proper place after drying it, showing a commendable systematic instinct, which Miss E. was trying to foster.

Between times, their school not yet being in session, they played about, either up in their rooms if it was too stormy outside, or out of doors if the weather permitted; though, for that matter, they seldom hesitated to do anything they wished on account of the weather, as it was not so cold to the natives as to us. They played with balls, both large and small, and sleds of all descriptions; and if the latter were not to be had, or all in use, a barrel stave or board would be made to answer the same purpose. It was a rush past the window down the hill, first by a pair of muckluked feet, then a barrel stave and a boy, sometimes little Pete, and sometimes John. One barrel stave would hold only one coaster, and there were usually enough for the boys, but if by chance the little girls laid hands upon the sleds before they did, the staves were then their only resource. If a child rolled, by accident, upon the ground, it never seemed to matter, for in furs he was well protected. The snow was soft, and he, being as much at home there as anywhere, seemed rather to like it.

If he was seen to fall, it was the signal for some other to roll and tumble him, keeping him under as long as possible, and it was a frequent sight to see three or four small boys tumbling about like kittens, locked in each other's arms, and all kicking and shouting good-naturedly. Snowballing, too, was their delight, and their balls were not always velvety, either, as the one stopping its course could affirm.