USA > Alaska > Alaska, its neglected past, its brilliant future > Part 4
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Thus it will be seen that Bering Sea is recognized as a part of the territory divided between Russia and the United States. No other country has claimed islands or other possessions within its limits, nor can they now, and its topography makes it impossible that it should be claimed as an open highway. Ber- ing Strait is a passage between Siberia and Alaska, and beyond that is the Arctic ocean and unexplored regions. It is therefore practically an inland sea
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THE STORY OF ALASKA.
subject to the dominion of the nations bordering upon its waters. And here the question strikes one rather forcibly, if the United States side of the sea is free foraging ground, why is not the Russian por- tion equally free?
If the sea was Russia's to give, then the portion sold is as truly the property of the purchaser as it was her own previous to the negotiation. If the Alaska side was not legally hers, neither is the re- mainder, and therefore poachers have the same right in all parts, they are no longer poachers, and are amenable to no law for taking public property. But Russia is ready to protect her rights; and no nation has the temerity to dispute them. The United States has been so sure of a just appreciation of her claims that she has made no provision for their in- fringement. We are beginning to feel that it might be as well to be a little self-asserting. We saw some- thing in the harbor of Sitka some years ago that was more amusing than dignified, when we looked at it in a nautical light,-we saw the poachers brought into the harbor by the "patrol of Bering Sea," and by comparison with the British vessels plying the seas to protect their nation's rights, our vessels put us very much in mind of toy boats made for the amuse- ment of the Government.
Standing by that beautiful harbor, or sailing its charming waters and looking out over the islands that
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dot its placid boson without interfering with its safety as a port, we thought how fine it would be to see instead a fleet of noble war ships, not ready to fight, but to show the power that might be called into play if anything required their interference. How grandly they would ride in the blue waters of the Sound, or how magnificently they could breast the rolling surges of the North Pacific, their presence asserting more than all the words in the vocabulary.
It is absurd to hear the comments of some pessi- mists when a cruiser is mentioned, and a standing navy seems to strike terror into the hearts of peace- loving citizens. Do the guns at Fortress Monroe or Sandy Hook or Fort Delaware or the garrison on the Western frontiers mean "war?" No. They mean protection. And if they were not ready for action, or rather, if they were not in such condition as to answer at the call of the Government, there would be a worse state of national affairs than there has been, and they have been disastrous enough, as many a brave heart could tell.
If England, or any other monarchy, had control of such a boundary as the United States includes within her limits, there would be the noblest navy in the world guarding it on either side. There would be the Atlantic and the Pacific navies, and all other nations would look on in respect and admiration.
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THE STORY OF ALASKA.
Bering Sea and her precious seals would be no object of wrangling then. The absurdity of it would be ap- parent to the most obtuse. And why can we not have a finer navy-a nobler navy, rightly managed, a pride to the nation and a terror to lawless invaders? For that object we would require wood, iron, steel, cop- per and good workmen, with capable builders to direct the enterprise. We have all these, and with the sup- ply ready to increase inexhaustibly when required.
We saw in Tacoma, Washington, one of the finest saw mills in the world turning out logs of almost incredible size and of excellent quality, and they were to be shipped to other countries for ship building pur- poses. We wondered if there would be such logs to be had when we should need them for our own vessels at some early day. We have noble forests, magnifi- cent trees, straight and tall, whose very form seems to tell of that for which they grew. Energetic men for- age until they find a suitable stopping place near their noble trunks. They fell them, prepare them for mar- ket, then announce them for sale, and they are bought by foreign powers. We should retain and use these choice products from our own soil, and forest reserva- tions of all good timber lands should be ever retained.
But when a larger navy is proposed a cry goes up about the expense it would involve. An ex- pense it would be truly, but no institution of any kind is supported without adequate expenditure.
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Yet glance at the thousands of able-bodied men who throng our cites, whose constant anxiety is lack of work. Any business once started gives an impetus to contingent industries-wood workers re- quire steel tools, they must come through the man- ufacture of iron, and from one to another the labor passes, down to the miners who delve for the raw ma- terials or the money to pay for them. And all material, from the growing trees to the gold and silver to pay for perfect vessels, is abundantly found within the limits of the Union.
And so it might be that work being supplied to the thousands, more money would circulate, the munici- pal governments would be rid of many a prospective pauper, the Republic would be honored on sea as well as on land, our own vessels would carry our own mer- chandise to other ports, and the commerce of the country would flourish prosperously.
CHAPTER VII.
A JOURNEY TO OUR NORTHWESTERN FRONTIER.
T HERE is nothing like personal acquaintance- ship. All we hear of the good qualities of an individual will make but slight impression in comparison with one day's social conversation with him. So it is with a new country. It is delightful to read of the beauties or grandeur of certain localities, but the pictures presented to the mind, and the de- scriptions, however vividly portrayed, cannot possess the power to arouse admiration or enthusiasm as do the living, rippling waters, the bounding cataracts, the lofty mountains and the verdure covered hills. So should you like to have an idea of the extent, the beauty and the usefulness of that side-shoot of our republic, Alaska, it would be the better plan for you to take a trip thither and see for yourselves. As cir- cumstances may prevent most of our readers from such a delightful tour there need be no limit to the number who may accompany us on this descriptive excursion.
As we will be compelled to make the greater por- tion of our coast-line tour to points of interest in Alaska by water, suppose we make the initial part on rail. By that means we will gain a broader idea of
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our great Republic and her capabilities. We will leave one of our largest cities in a comfortable train, furnished in such a gorgeous manner as our ancestors would have thought it madness to propose. We en- ter and enjoy a delightful ride in a handsomely fur- nished drawing room or sleeping car. We partake of our meals in a fine dining room car with polite wait- ers to anticipate our wishes. We may sleep through the long night with no knowledge of the many miles of country through which we are flitting, while we rest almost as comfortably as upon our couch at home.
Off, we go! through a country of small, richly tilled farms with fine horses and choice cattle, making pic- tures of pastoral beauty, some old homesteads clinging to the hillsides, the houses and barns seem- ing to hang like swallows' nests as we pass them by.
What are those strange white walls that look like roughly builded tombs? They are the limekilns, one of the first industries that one will meet outside of some of our Eastern towns, in limestone districts, and a strong contrast to what will break upon our view as we pass the coal mines, or the iron foundries and smelting furnaces, which from their black mouths belch forth in fiery streams a great part of the wealth of our large cities.
Hills and mountains rise and slowly disappear as though sinking into the valleys.
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Westward and northward we fly, through great cities and beautiful towns and villages; here a group of children shout and wave their hats as we plunge along; there men and women stand and gaze in wonder as the train speeds swiftly by. On! on! in the heated summer sunlight as the radiant beams illuminate the great wheat fields, as they wave silently in the gentle breeze like golden-tinted lakes rippling and curving in the distance. Rivers flash before us or beneath us and are gone. Snow-capped mountains defy us, but we talk, and smile, and gaze on the wonderful scenery as we ascend their rugged almost inaccessible sum- mits, or glide along the lonely passes where the en- gine's loud screech or the rumble of the train alone
breaks the stillness or disturbs the solitude. Onward toward the sunset of the wonderful North-West and Northland. The wheat fields no longer greet us like golden lakes, but like great, gleaming inland seas, bear- ing upon their waters food more than abundant for the hungry mills that wait to change the grain to feathery flakes of snowy whiteness, containing strength and nutriment for millions of our people, and enough to share with the great sister countries of the world.
Pines and cedars bid us welcome, and oddly remind us of the warm, sunny South from which we have departed.
Long, sweeping plains lead abruptly to mountain
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sides or to rustling rivers whose voices can often be heard before they are seen in their valley homes.
Still onward we sweep through crooks and turns and tunnels and mountain passes, and over placid streams and turbulent rivers, startling wild birds as we pass, causing the antelope to scamper or the wild deer to raise his stately head and watch us as we rush along with swiftness far beyond his rapid bound.
Northward, Westward, still we pursue our jour- ney to the great wonderland of this continent, and these thousands of miles of rapid travel through the grandest, fairest country on the globe is only the initiative step, only the doorway to a rare new pleas- ure.
At last there stands Tacoma, one of the great North- western mountain giants! Proudly he raises his great, broad, dazzling, lofty, snow-clad head towards the sky, the while holding his spotless robes around him, his un- tarnished beauty awing the most careless traveler, his towering crest rivaled but by few other peaks on this continent. There he stands, the mighty guardian of this portal of the West, a grand reminder of others that we hope to see.
We will also indulge the longing to see Astoria, at the mouth of the Columbia River, the town so old, so important years ago, so historically sacred that it should ever remain a monument to American enter- prise, even if it has not a brilliant destiny before it
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to-day. Planned, built and fitted up as a trading post by John Jacob Astor, for whom it was named, it was intended not only as a point of trade for per- sonal aggrandizement, but it was the darling idea of the great merchant to secure for his adopted country an outlet upon the Pacific coast as well as the control of a part at least of the immense trade with China, where the dealers found the most generous buyers of the beautiful furs which were then gathered here in apparently inexhaustible numbers.
Virtually protected by the Government in the erec- tion of the original post, and being at the head of a company whose charter gave it full power to trade in the furs found in the vast North-West, how soon would the whole enterprise have been a thing of the past and the business have fallen into the hands of individual sharpers, had it not been for the personal care it received and the money that was spent on it by Mr. Astor, who strongly held the prophetic idea of the coming importance of his little settlement, Astoria, founded on the great and beautiful Columbia River, that ineandered through mineral-ladened forests, and jungles filled with fur-bearing animals.
Think of the vicissitudes through which the men passed into whose hands Astor had intrusted the post ; how they clung faithfully to his service, despite dangers and starvation; how one, discouraged and dishonest, sold it for a pittance to a foreign company that was jeal-
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ously watching its every action; how the American flag was lowered and the British flag raised over the fort! Knowing as Astor did the importance that would one day be attached to it, what was his bitter grief at its seeming failure, and what his exuberant joy when the town was ceded back to the United States at the close of the war of 1812, and with As- toria, likewise the command of the whole northwest- ern coast, and thus was thrown into the hands of our Government an extensive tract now so valuable and important to us, embracing the entire coast terri- tory which Astor's expedition gave to the United States by priority of settlement. So vividly has Washington Irving told of the events connected with it in his "Astoria," that one may almost live over again with the men, their times of danger, their dis- tress and suffering and the tardy success of the en- terprise.
The trading post town was saved to us to become for a while the centre of the fur trade, which was afterwards diverted from it further up the Columbia River.
Born to live, Astoria and the Columbia River settle- ments have become the centres of the fish-canning business of Oregon, whose salmon are world-renowned. She waits now only for the advance of railroads to become a great metropolis in the North-West and a monument to her German projector, not only in name
AN ALASKAN BAY.
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OUR NORTHWESTERN FRONTIER.
but in the sturdy Dutch piles upon which the greater part of the town was built. It was only her British seizure and possession that gained for her the name of the "first British settlement in the North- West." American citizens, however, have made her what she now is, and only bide their time to show what she will some day become.
At the city of Tacoma, the terminus of the North- ern Pacific Railroad, we find the vessel that is to take 11s to Alaska. but as it is not quite ready for depar- ture, and as we may be better prepared for our voyage if we take some exercise after our trans-continental ride, we will stroll about and look around the town. It bids fair to become a great seaport in the near fu- ture, and already its docks are strong, its harbor safe, with a large lumber, coal and grain trade firmly estab- lished as a support, its location being at the southern end of that great and important bay, Puget Sound.
Our steamer is ready!
In the morning we behold the oldest American city on Puget Sound, Seattle, her terraced streets and thrifty warehouses reflected in the waters of Elliott Bay. With a rapidly increasing commerce and popu- lation, she is already the rival of Tacoma.
A three hours' steaming on the Sound, with Mount Tacoma and Baker's Peaks looming up above us and the fir lined forest-clad shore, resting our eyes from the dazzling whiteness as we steam alongside the 5
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wharf of the Gate City of Puget Sound, a little wait for transportation business, and then proceeding across the Strait of San Juan, we reach the attractive capital of Vancouver's Island, Victoria, which we pause to ad- mire for its beauty and wonderful growth, and the great British port and harbor of Esquimalt, which England held in the "54, 40 or fight" before its cession by the United States.
We sail on through an archipelago, picturesque and beautiful, a faint foreshadowing of the waters, the islands, the wonder-crowned shores,, which we will ob- serve on our healthful and delightful voyage. Here is the Island of San Juan, our first possession in this great watery region. And now we enter the inland passage leading to Alaska, so smoothly, so quietly, with no shock to tell us that we are nearing this lovely land, that one forgets the many landscape en- joyments in crossing the continent for the additional joys and rapture of vision that present themselves.
CHAPTER VIII.
A VOYAGE THAT SHOULD SATISFY THE MOST ROMANTIC.
W E have passed the Gulf of Georgia and viewed Taxada Island, a large tract of land which has drawn several companies to its borders on account of its rich deposits of valuable iron ore. Now we sail through a broad expanse of water, seemingly almost limitless, and find ourselves watching with surprise as we approach the shore and turn into a narrow passage around a point near Cape Mudge. This cape is an oddly formed headland, two hundred and fifty feet high, with a flat summit, and densely wooded.
For miles we sail along the watery defile Discov- ery Passage, between mountain ranges rising one above the other, as they are lost in the distance, either coast seeming to vie with the other in the beauty of its scenery.
Another broad sheet of water then opens to our view. This is Mensie's Bay. We pass it and enter Sey- mour Narrows, a beautiful gorge through which the tide rushes, rocking and tossing our boat in a most trying manner. The captain's remark that it is "only two miles long," being rather dubious comfort, when we feel the possibility of our boat being overwhelmed
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at any moment. Safe at last! We enter Johnstone Strait, which in some parts closely resembles Discov- ery Passage, in others it widens into grand propor- tions, probably seeming wider than they really are to our unpracticed eyes. But we forget the water as we gaze upon the ranges of mountains on Van- couver's Island. It is the Prince of Wales range and the Albert Edward peak that rises so grandly upon our left, the latter reaching nearly seven thous- and feet in the air, bearing his crest of snow proudly as a monarch, though his feet are solidly planted in the tide below.
The long coast line of Thurlow Island bids us imagine that we are in sight of the mainland until Chancellor Channel intervenes and Hardwicke Island comes into view. Another channel stretches out be- fore us and then we reach the shores of British Co- lumbia. Islands large and small, some of them only great barren rocks, others verdure clad to the water's edge; bays, inlets, channels, mountains, snow-crowned and pictured with flakes of whiteness, dotting them as though flocks of sheep were wandering down their rugged sides; great hills covered with dense forests of shaded pines or sombre cedars, tiny hillocks like emerald gems studding the rolling valleys, and every- where reflecting beauties in the glistening waters. And this foreign domain is British Columbia! From the other side Mount Palmerston, Vancouver's senti-
SHOULD SATISFY THE MOST ROMANTIC. 69
nel, looks up across the water way, and we sail under his shadow and into the clear sunshine again, charmed with the lovely view, but longing impatiently to pass more swiftly onward.
Steaming through an archipelago of many beauti- ful islands, we enter Broughton Strait, pass Alert Bay, with its salmon cannery, its strange Indian vil- lage and modest mission buildings, while now and then we look at Holdsworth Peak, a lofty cone upon Vancouver's Island, which asserts itself distinctly for many miles.
On we sail through Broughton Strait, gazing land- ward on either side, longing for the power to see all the scenic glories, until, with a sigh, we conclude, partly from weariness and partly from despair, that it is impossible to gain more than a bird's-eye view, and that no one could, in a single trip, retain in mem- ory all the beautiful points of interest that crowd upon the sight, when suddenly we find ourselves steaming through Queen Charlotte's Sound, and the broad sea-like expansion of water comes as an actual relief, the scenery being so mellowed by the distance that it cannot tempt too great an effort of either mind or vision. We know that we cannot gain any but the soft, hazy view, and we gaze in gentle, restful enjoyment, scarce question- ing what this or that more conspicuous point may be. Should western gales disturb the Pacific
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waters and huge ocean swells come rolling in, some signs of sea sickness may appear, but they will not last, for we soon enter calm waters again.
Fort Rupert gains a little notice, it being one of the trading points of the Hudson Bay Company, of which we have heard, and, in connection with the early history of our country, read so much. Its In- dian village calls attention for a while, but soon we will see our own Alaskan Indians in their native huts and homes and witness their peculiarities.
Galetas Channel bears our ship along beside its hundreds of islands and between beautiful mountains until at last we pass Cape Commerell, leaving Van- couver while turning to take a farewell look at the grand Island and to watch Mt. Lemon slowly recede from view. Looking westward, behold the great, surging bosom of the Pacific! We feel the swell that seems to make retirement and lemon juice im- perative, but a little patience, a little nerve force for a short time and the vessel turns into the safe and quiet waters of Fitzhugh Sound. Beautiful views greet us on every side. Here Mt. Buxton lifts its spirelike peak toward the bending sky. As we proceed the mountains become higher and the landscape grander. The hills close by are covered with cone shaped trees to their very tops, while between can be seen the dis- tant mountains, their summits crowned with perpetual snow.
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SHOULD SATISFY THE MOST ROMANTIC.
On through Lama Passage, close by the village of Bella-Bella, on Campbell's Island, we get our first view of the "totem poles," the subject of wonder, con- jecture, scientific research and perpetual questioning, and still remaining "totem poles," and nothing else. Even at a little distance we can see a carved bear, an eagle or wolf uplifted many feet and staring with great open inanimate eyes upon the passers by.
Now, as we sail through an extremely narrow, but not perilous pass, into Seaforth Channel, we behold mountains seemingly piled upon mountains, with ex- quisite views of distant ranges, and if it be our good fortune to get the view toward evening it will be hal- lowed with the most gorgeous covering of purple, crimson and gold, softening into more exquisite tints, so delicate that an author cannot describe nor an art- ist reproduce them. The pure, azure sky holds itself a most befitting background for the myriads of shades through which the sun-kissed clouds are passing be- fore the dilatory darkness creeps on to obscure their loveliness.
A sudden turn brings us into Milbank Sound, from whose entrance we once more behold the broad open sea. Islands and mountains seem almost to chase each other as we sail along, and now we catch our earliest glimpses of glacier paths in the mountain passes and along their roughened sides.
Stripe Mountain calls for attention with its strangely marked declivity telling its name most plainly.
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Through the narrow waters of Finlayson Channel we steanı northwest, for many miles noting its shores densely wooded to the very water's edge, with here and there a mountain more lofty than another, bear- ing upon its brow, and sometimes upon its slopes also, great patches of snow, making sharp contrast with the shades around.
On through Graham Reach, Frazier's Reach, close by Princess Royal Island, through M'Kay Reach we sail into Wright's Sound. Beauty everywhere. Mountains, valleys, and lovely waterfalls, whose music we can almost hear as we watch their crystal waters, trembling, rushing, sweeping over ledges, through crevasses, ever plunging downward to the great waters below, that receive them in answer- ing, bounding joyousness. Into Grenville Channel we glide through a narrow strait into Arthur Pas- sage, still forward into Chatham Sound, guarded by great lofty mountains we view Chim-sy-an, a peninsula, as we pass northward, still between islands and snow- capped mountains until at last we cross the line at latitude fifty-four degrees, which separates British Columbia from our own Alaska.
CHAPTER IX.
PECULIAR SIGHTS IN INDIAN VILLAGES.
H AVING crossed the boundary line between the British possessions and that of our own country, our hearts swell with a strange, new feeling, though the waters of Dixon Entrance are exactly like those we have been sailing under different names. On from the far, frigid North they come, though we have not yet seen any messengers from the Polar seas, nor even from the glaciers which we hope soon to behold in all their cold, stately grandeur.
Every town, every village, every tiny inlet awakens · active interest now. We could pass others calmly, admiring their beauty, exclaiming at the wonders, but not with the proud impression that amounts to a sort of proprietorship in the strange, new country now spread before us. We tell each other, as fellow tour- ists, how we should like those who named this coun- try "The District" to be here and see even the be- ginning of it. It comes to our mind that we have been some time ago told that Alaska, or "Alakshan," means "great country," and we realize more and more as we proceed on our voyage how it deserves the title. But the good ship has brought us to a strange looking place.
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