The Trail of a Sourdough / Life in Alaska

by May Kellogg Sullivan

The chairman arose and called for order. After a little time, during which the men gave what information they could, it was arranged that Dick Dead-eye should be the Lieutenant's guide into the mountains. The old pioneer was acquainted with Indians on the Klukwan River who had lived in that vicinity for many years, and as he was conversant with the Chilkat language he thought they could get the desired information. The Klukwan River was a tributary of the Chilkat, rising in the mountains which should be their first objective point.

In the late twilight of an Alaskan summer's day the keel of a little boat grated upon the pebbles of the beach at Klukwan. Mission and the west arm of Lynn had been left behind. Here two small rivers emptied their mountain waters into the big Canal whose long, wet fingers persistently pointed toward the Passes and the Golden North. Incidentally, also, they indicated the direction to the disputed Boundary Line, the exact whereabouts of which the pioneer "Dead-eye" and his official companion had come to determine. For years the Lieutenant had been engaged by the United States Government in making surveys along the southern coast of Alaska where he was no stranger to the Indians. These knew him, and he spoke their language, as did also the old hunter, trapper and pathfinder.

For two decades had the old hunter forced long trails into the unknown country and blazed the way for those who were speedily to follow by thousands. To him Yukon and Selkirk were household words.

So their landing at Klukwan was no new experience. In truth a cabin, substantially built of logs and stocked with edibles and other comforts, awaited the two hardy frontier-men. Had there been no such luxuries they would have felt as much at home sleeping beside a camp fire in the open. They looked for those who could tell them of the doings of white men who landed on these shores nearly a century before, and for those who could point the way to boundary monuments wherever they were. Of necessity they must look among the aged ones of Chilkats for information.

On the day following their landing the Indians were assembled, and inquiry was made by the white men as to the location of the boundary monuments. Had any of the people present ever seen such, or did they know where they were to be found?

Two or three then declared that they had seen, many years before, a Russian Boundary House and knew how to reach it; but they were too old to walk so far, or climb the mountains. They said they would direct some younger Indian, and he should guide the white men to the spot.

Their search, however, proved unavailing, for days they wandered about the mountains and even reached the divide indicated by the old Indians; but nowhere could a Boundary House, or anything of a like description, be found.

At last they returned to Klukwan for supplies and further instructions. There was evidently some mistake.

A consultation was held. An Indian, who had been upon the identical spot of the Boundary House, must accompany the white men and indicate the place, if possible.

Some one mentioned the name of Old Tillie. She was too old to see well, her teeth were long since gone, and she dozed often. No one thought her able to walk any distance; but if she were strong enough she could locate the place, if anyone could. She had been there in her girlhood, seventy years before. When she was asked to guide the white men to the mountains she slowly shook her head but said nothing.