USA > Alaska > Trailing and camping in Alaska > Part 17
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" Bye-and-bye, all Indians come back!"
Such were my thoughts as the old Indian sat smoking his pipe. When he saw that I had recov- ered from the reverie, he announced that he was not superstitious, and for an Indian he was an ex- ception, yet even he related how the spirits went with the winds and made nocturnal visits to their old hunting-grounds.
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Then the lone wail was heard again from away down the river, and that interesting child of the forest said " Chinan," (thanks) for the pipe and tobacco, bade good-bye and silently made moccasin tracks down the trail.
CHAPTER XXIV
When on the trails as brothers they have fought the rapids' wrath;
They've heard the wails of others as they fell beside the path; They've danced with death a-swinging, as they climbed the mountains high;
Where north winds were a-singing they'll as brothers live and die.
I SPENT the summer of 1904 on the head-waters of the Tanana River, and it was an outing in the fullest sense of the term. Except my companion, I saw no human being for three months. I hung up my broad-rimmed white hat, when on Jack Creek, and dug from my clothesbag a black, narrow-rimmed misnomer. I did that because four years before, while wearing a similar broad-rimmed hat in this vicinity, I had been chased and nearly caught by an enraged grizzly, and if we should meet again there was danger of being recognized by him, if seen wearing the same kind of headgear.
I was fortunate in having an interesting conversa- tionalist for a companion. That is a happy faculty, whether natural or cultivated. I have known per- sons who had so diligently cultivated that trait that they could distinctly say the words " yes " and " no,"
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and I always enjoyed looking at their backs as they departed.
My companion was a very agreeable fellow as well as an humorous one. He wore a red bandanna handkerchief around his neck, red whiskers on his chin, red freckles on his nose and red hair on his head. He said he was naturally a born leader of men, when they were on a retreat. He claimed that self preservation was one of the cardinal traits of his character. I was perfectly satisfied to risk my- self with him in the wilds, and that is where one should have a man on whom one can depend.
I ascended a mountain to locate the noonday rest- ing-place of some mountain sheep, and a few were seen, but too far away to secure any that late in the day. On the way back, in a wide canyon, I met three full-grown grizzlies, and bravely placed my- self in seclusion while they passed to my windward. Of course I was not the least bit embarrassed, but while counting my five rounds of ammunition, I counted three cartridges and five bears. It would be cruel to separate the bears by killing only a few of them; besides, there might be bears right in camp at that moment destroying things. I resolved to go right there and defend that camp with my life, if necessary. It is some consolation to me, even at this day, to know those bears never saw me.
My companion, Mr. Howard, about II P. M., came walking up the creek bottom looking for me,
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and among the willows we nearly ran against each other. The next day, he, armed with a 30-30 rifle and I with a pistol, returned up the mountain and succeeded in placing ourselves in front of some moun- tain goats. While in a deep gorge, an old Billy with his whiskers " gave a sly glance at me," from the side of a precipice. In endeavoring to draw a white bead on a white goat, with a white cloudy sky- line for a background, he was missed at no greater distance than sixty yards. At that time, my partner was busily engaged in holding a dog (not Pete), which was possessed with a delusion that he could chase all mountain goats out of Alaska. We suc- ceeded in killing two, which was all the meat we wanted at that time. It was a sight to see one of those I shot, after he had climbed to a great height, then to come tumbling down. It is little trouble to get within range of mountain sheep and goat if one be skilled in hunting them. It is the novice, killing for sport, who climbs, sweats, and worries and de- clares that they are always inaccessible. What fun the sheep do have with those fellows!
About a month later, when riding along a sheep trail on a steep mountain-side, I rounded a sharp, point and met a large female grizzly. She stood up on her hind feet and appeared interested, while that horse proceeded to exhibit his athletic abilities for her amusement and my discomfort. I tightly held the horse while he turned round and round, on
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that high, narrow trail. He did this about one hundred times, which enabled me to count as many bears. Of course this is a rough estimate, but one should be conservative when telling of bears. Be- fore there was time to pass the hat, the audience left, the horse ceased performing, and his rider began to dimly realize that he had been turned around so many times it was with difficulty he could determine the direction to camp. He felt satisfied, however, that he owned the greatest trick horse that had ever performed before an Alaskan audience.
Others, that summer, did not have such agreeable experiences with bears. Some prospectors on the Tanana found the dead body of a man near the foot of a tree, and in his hand was the following note:
" To folks at home. I have met my fate. Good- bye and may God care for and bless you all. Was hunting and wounded bear. It has killed me. Good- bye,
"ALONZO CHESWITH."
At one time we were camped on the trail that leads from Mentasta to Bachulneta by way of Suslota, when a coyote appeared near by, then another, and they all carried packs. That was sufficient reason for suggesting the advisability of placing the coffee- pot on the fire to assist in making a bluff at feeding Indians, for they were sure to be there. In a few minutes, our camp was alive with vermin and In-
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dians, while dogs whined to be unpacked, squaws begged for food, and men for tobacco. After two hours' rest, they left as they had come, in a straggling manner, probably one hundred yards apart.
The next night, about two o'clock in the morn- ing, we heard the call of a night-bird, apparently near by; this was answered over on another hill, and that indicated the oft-heard signal of the Tananas. I quietly slipped out in the dark and listened, and again it was heard, farther away, and this time it was answered from along the trail; so it was plainly an Indian call, and not that of a night-bird of the feathered kind.
Those Indians had done right in going around the camp of the white man, for a tenderfoot might have shot an Indian at that time of night, if he had discovered him near his camp ;- there is always an uncanny feeling that passes through one's anatomy when that call is heard.
The next day we passed Indian Albert on the trail, and after satisfying his request for tobacco, we continued on our way and presently heard the same bird-call from a thicket, two hundred yards to one side. Before I had recovered from the amusement of a night-bird calling at mid-day, the answer was heard from Albert, away down the trail. The first was not intended for the white man's ears, and in that case, no doubt, emanated from Albert's bodyguard.
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An Indian Pack-Train.
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If, when camping among those forest denizens, you happen to explain to a tenderfoot companion that these calls, or plaintive tremolos, which sound from the dark recesses of night, are aboriginal sig- nals, then that tenderfoot needs a sedative for his nerves. You will not be annoyed by his snoring dur- ing the rest of that night. He may previously have been the embodiment of inanition, but the spell will be forever broken while on the trail, and henceforth, when in the wilds at night, he will ever be on the alert, and his stare into darkness will indicate nur- tured animation, apparently conserved for that par- ticular occasion.
A young Indian approached our camp, on Chicka- men Creek, carrying a twenty-pound pack, and sup- porting besides the ponderous cognomen of " Bob." With inimitable gestures he assured us that he knew of a dry trail leading to Mentasta, which avoided the bosky swamp country of the Slahna bottoms, with their innumerable muskrat ponds, lakes and sloughs. In consideration of his services as guide, we consented to carry his pack on a horse, and also recklessly attempted to satisfy his omnivorous ap- petite from our commissariat. His boasted knowl- edge of the way proved so unreliable that the final result was a halt in the midst of a swamp. While one man smoked the mosquitoes from the poor horses, I looked along the edge of the mountain for solid footing, and the Indian searched towards the
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river. When the Indian returned from his futile search, he answered our queries with an impotent ges- ture, spreading his fingers, and profanely qualified his statement thus :
" Trail no good! May-be-so good for salmon, dat's all !"
We swam our horses across an outlet of a lake, and took them where one would think it impossible to go. As night approached, we came out on the green flat at the outlet of the Mentasta lake, where was the village of Chief John and his tribe. While preparing camp, we were surrounded by Indians of all sizes and descriptions, and, as usual, they begged for " tobac." The old chief " pot-latched " us five white fish, fresh from the lake. That senile chief, who was broad-shouldered, slim-legged and dressed in buckskin, extended this courtesy-not with be- nevolence as an incentive, but to obligate us to return the favor as many times as our patience would per- mit.
My companion was droll as well as congenial. He remarked that he believed he could walk across a creek on a log, but while attempting it he fell into the water up to his neck, whereupon he added: " I've changed my mind !"
He possessed the happy trait of never becoming bewildered. It is very trying to travel in a wild country with a companion who is constantly getting lost. The majority of those who lose their lives do
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so by first losing their desired direction. A member of a party with which I was traveling once in the Copper River country had no sense of direction, be- cause he was born that way-it is a natural failing- and was lost almost constantly. He would feel lost, probably, if enclosed in a corral. There was but one smoking mountain to be seen, but he found dozens of them. Whenever he saw that mountain from a new position, immediately he recorded the discov- ery of another volcano. We humored this fellow, who was otherwise intellectually bright, by asking for a description of the last volcano, hoping he would discover that there was merely one, but it made no difference to him, for he continued to discover more smoking mountains with the evident purpose of breaking the record in that particular line.
We rested one day on Indian Creek, and during the afternoon I took a walk down on the bottom, in search of a mess of spruce hens, thinking they might be found among the heavy timber. Instead of tak- ing a pistol that was large enough to kill anything I might happen to see, a small automatic 32 was picked up. I had gone but a quarter of a mile when I got a glimpse of a brownish-looking animal and decided that it was a yearling moose.
A yearling moose was about our desired size, so, instead of returning for a larger pistol, I decided to crawl through the brushy undergrowth, as near as possible to the place where the animal stood, and
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then slip a few bullets into the heart cavity and get my moose by tracking him a short distance.
The moss-covered ground enabled me to arrive at the place unobserved, but when there, as I arose and looked around, not a thing could I see. Be- cause the wind had been in my favor I was satisfied that the animal had not been frightened, but where it had vanished was a mystery. I stood beside a large tree, so as to be less likely to be observed, and was quietly waiting for the hunted one to make a move, for I was not entirely sure that it was a moose.
Presently, a large brown silvertip grizzly bear arose from lying flat on the ground, not thirty paces distant. He sat up on his haunches and scented in the direction of camp, and while doing so, he quietly held the butt of his ear for me. At that moment, the idiotic strain which runs through my composi- tion asserted itself, and I could not resist the temp- tation to satisfy my curiosity in regard to what effect that little hard bullet would have upon him.
The missile was properly despatched to the exact spot, at the butt of his ear! Then, shaking his head and emitting a savage growl he rushed towards me, on his back track, like a whirlwind. I dropped to the ground like a dead 'possum-and dared not move, for any attempt to climb the tree would have been disastrous. At the rate I was shrinking up, I could have disappeared into a squirrel hole in a
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few minutes, but it was only a few seconds before he had passed within a few feet of me, and the way the brush popped, one would have thought it a six- horse team running away with a wagon-load of loose poles. If an inexperienced tenderfoot had committed that foolish act, he might, after proper treatment, have been pronounced harmlessly sane; but as for myself, I returned to camp with a pro- found feeling that my case was hopeless.
On our return, we saw matured oats and barley at the United States Experimental farm at Copper Center, and also a vegetable garden at Tonsina River.
There are thousands of acres along the river bot- toms of the valleys of central Alaska which will some day repay the tiller of the soil. These are the warm sedimentary soils. There are also thou- sands of acres of rolling foot-hill land where grow luxuriant bunch-grasses, on which live stock could fatten during the summer months. The interior is cold, but the absence of wind makes it more de- sirable for stock-raising than many of the northern States. The length of the winters is the greatest obstacle. Horses have wintered there, but they re- quire to be in good flesh when turned out, in order to keep them warm, but they come out in the spring in very good condition. The annual snowfall is light in the interior, only amounting to about two feet, and often less. It is necessary to place the ground
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in good condition before sowing cereals, and the Siberian seed is preferable.
Relatively speaking, of the country as a whole, there is a very small area that could be made pro- ductive, because hundreds of square miles are cov- ered by swamps, lakes and sloughs. There are also hundreds of square miles of cold clay land which are covered with moss and scrubby spruce, on which it would be difficult to raise even a disturbance. The valleys are so extensive that productive localities may at some future time supply the home market with meat and vegetables, a time predicted to be in- evitable. Grain hay can be grown, and it can be cured in the interior, but it would be impossible to cure it on the coast because of the moisture. Red- top grass grows to prodigious height on the coast, while in the interior the grass is short, although more nutritious. The summer seasons along the coast are much longer, and better vegetables, espe- cially potatoes, can be grown there.
The descent of the Coast Range was accom- plished in a cold rain, this being the usual thing in September. While plodding along in the rain and mud, I wished sincerely that some kind friend would rope me and take me to a place where prospecting was prohibited by law. After a good square meal at the Camp Comfort roadhouse, however, and while enjoying the warmth of a good fire, I found myself endeavoring to determine into what locality
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I should venture the next year. The hosts at Camp Comfort always succeed in making the place con- form to the significance of its name, and through their hospitality the prospectors associate good old Camp Comfort with the most pleasant memories of that trail.
The habit of prospecting, when once diamond- hitched upon a man, becomes a mental disorder. Only one in fifty finds pay for his hardships, but he has the consolation of striving for the cleanest money at large, and he knows when he gets it that he has not robbed another, legally or otherwise.
The illiterate man is usually the best assistant on the trail; as his mind is not filled with tangents or co-tangents, wise sayings of Shakespeare or the great statesmen. In consequence, he remembers what he did with a rope, just where he laid the ax, how many knives and forks the crowd started with, the brands on the horses, and when he last heard the bell. This all sounds ridiculous, but if I were choosing a good campman, I should prefer that his education were limited, so that he could remember the little things and not be concerned about his grammatical expressions.
There are diamond hitches, forward and back- ward-big diamond, little diamond-square knots and granny knots, walnuts and loops, and there are hobbles and side-hobbles, blinds and cinches, pan- niers, pack-saddles and aparejos. No; with too
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much of other kinds of knowledge he cannot attend to all that properly; he becomes lost-forgets how to do things, and cannot recall where he has put a very insignificant but now all-important buckskin string. A deep-thinking, wool-gathering philosopher would be a decided failure as an assistant on the trail.
My companion was a contrast to the above, but he had had a lifetime of experience. His well- flavored camp stories were just about as long as a cigarette, and he was one of the best automatic and continuous entertainers I have ever met. He made a few locations, and afterwards he remarked that it was astonishing how good they looked to him after drinking a bottle of champagne; at such times and under such conditions he always raised their valua- tion.
An incident happened on this coast that summer, which is worthy of mention. A Mr. Howard was suffering with a hand that had been mangled by a charge from a shotgun. In his remote camp, Mr. Glendenning, an experienced Alaskan who had toured the coast alone in a row-boat, amputated the man's arm with a razor and an old meat-saw, and the crude operation, without anaesthetics, was a de- cided success.
While the whistling north winds played through the trees and told me of cold on the glacier, I sat by a warm fire and thought of the insufferable heat
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of the deserts, plains and canyons of lower latitudes, and also remembered the damp and clammy fogs of the southern coasts, that chill the bones of the old, dampen the ardor of the young, and invigorate the moss on the houseroofs; wherefore I realized that all climates are imperfect.
Once more, I was back on the coast with another batch of doleful reminders of the trail-the sound of owl-hoots, the flickering of dying campfires, the mire of the swamplands, and the rain, mudholes and misery. It would be consistent if I were to change my name to that of "Misery" and come up there to live, devoting my days to the life of a prospector.
The vernacular of the prospectors awakened me to my surroundings, for my ears rang with such apellatives as "Oklahoma Bill," "Alganik Bill," " Staghound Bill," although my appetite suggested duck-bills, and my pocket-book the many bills I had to pay. Then I lapsed back into dreams of such ungainly things as pack-saddles, sling ropes, diamond hitches, mantas and ponchos, while it rained and poured.
CHAPTER XXV
From the days of the mastodon the wolverine has defied his enemies, and his animal contemporaries have respected his prowess.
THE summer of 1905 was spent among the high peaks, the roaring waterfalls, and the extensive gla- ciers that border Prince William Sound. My com- panion and I found ourselves once between the prongs of a canyon and looking dizzily over the edges we could see narrow, wild torrents, hundreds of feet below. The October night had settled upon us. The rain had poured down all day, and in addi- tion to being drenched to the skin we were cold, tired and hungry; moreover, we had to face the fact that it was necessary to return to the head of the canyon and then cross a high mountain before we could reach our camp.
We became separated in the darkness, but we bumped and felt our way up the mountain; then slipped, slid and rolled down through the brush and timbers on the other side. I stopped, entangled among the dead limbs of a fallen tree-top, and there built a fire and shiveringly steamed one side, while the other was being rained on. The wind blew down the mountain and penetrated my wet cloth-
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ing, so that I really longed for a " tenderfoot " for company, that he might amuse me with his wail- ing complaints. The day dawned with more rain and wet brush, and I wondered if my companion had met with more favorable experiences.
About ten o'clock I approached our camp to dis- cover my companion coming to meet me. He had traveled all night. About midnight he had rolled down an embankment, caught at alders, and finally letting loose of them, had continued rolling, until at last he had stopped at a soft mossy place. He had lost his hat, and every loose article about his person, except a wild duck, and as he had not eaten anything for twenty-four hours, he immediately de- voured that duck raw, wondering, as he sat in the cold drenching rain, whether I were enjoying as good a supper.
When afterwards we looked at the draw, through which he had fallen, we saw that if he had de- scended at a point fifty yards on either side, he must have fallen to the bottom of a three-hundred- foot precipice, and, as he expressed it, "no doubt the duck would have been more or less damaged."
,We enjoyed a few sunshiny days of the kind that cause one's thoughts to wander around and become lost in heaven, because of the kindness of the ele- ments. It was on such a day-the kind to make one forget one's debts, that I lay down in the tall grass and counted fifteen waterfalls that were de-
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scending from a glacier on a shelf, about 1000 feet above.
While enjoying that scene, my attention was at- tracted by a large grizzly that arose from his bed in the grass and turned broadside, not more than one hundred yards away. Immediately I sent a pistol ball through his heart cavity, whereupon he emitted a savage growl, galloped a short distance and lay down for his last long sleep. Then another arose, much nearer, and stood on his hind feet, look- ing around for the cause of the report. My part- ner came over the ridge just at that moment and we both opened fire on that second one, and it was while tracking his blood-stained footprints that we discovered some copper ore. This we located, nam- ing it the Wounded Bear mining claim. The bear descended to a glacier where the track was lost, and it is probable that he died among the crevasses.
When I was traveling on a glacier, about a week after that incident, I saw a wolverine approaching at a gallop. As he stopped and turned to examine something, I sent a bullet that mangled his heart and caused him to jump up and fall over. When I approached him he was gasping his last. That accidental pistol-shot was one of those that are liable to inspire one with too much confidence in one's shooting ability, as the distance was 154 steps.
That wolverine weighed about fifty pounds. He measured four feet from the end of his nose to the
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tip of a twelve-inch tail; his neck was sixteen inches in circumference; his leg was only ten inches long, and his fore-arm was nine inches around. I should describe him as a big-necked, canine-toothed, large- eyed, and long-bodied animal with two short legs on each end. His flesh was composed of hard blue muscle, and his head was protected with a roll of the same impenetrable material. Because of this fact trappers often declare that they cannot kill a wolverine by beating it on the head with a club. A knife-fight with two common American black bears would be preferable to a like contest with one wol- verine.
The wolverine is one of the most interesting of 'America's carnivora. He is not only American, and has attached his name to that of the Michi- ganders, but he has mingled his bones in almost all countries with those of the mastodons and other gigantic mammalia which lived thousands of years ago, in the dim past. His ancestors were common before there was a London or a St. Petersburg. With his surprising strength and sagacity, he has stood, and still stands, defying all enemies, even twice his size, to mortal combat. A whole pack of wolves will slink away cowardly from his pres- ence, and a dog! why, a dog readily recognizes- by intuition, as it were-the mortal enemy of his ancestors, for the very scent of a wolverine's skin will cause him to hie away, bristling, barking and
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