The Boy With the U. S. Survey Part 24

"I see it's a boy," answered the other, smiling, "but I didn't know it was 'the' boy. I guess, Doughty, from the way Mr. Rivers talks, that you're only just a trifle less important in the Survey than the Director." He laughed out loud.

Roger broke in protestingly, but Rivers interrupted.

"Don't mind him, Doughty, he's always that way."

"Don't mind him either, Doughty," replied the topographer, "he's always that way." And Roger thought it promised well for the cheerfulness of the party to find the chief and the topographer on joking terms.

Later the boy found Gersup's cheerfulness and optimism to be invaluable on the trip. He had a short, thick-set, stocky frame and possessed to an extreme degree the power of seeing the best possible side of every situation. His persuasive powers were so great that, as one of the party said afterward, "he could talk a mule's heels down in the middle of a kick!" He had an unerring eye for the topography of a country, as was afterwards shown, and before they had been many days in Alaska, Roger would have unhesitatingly declared both the geologist and topographer of the party to be absolutely infallible in their own lines, though they would both promptly have disclaimed any such statement.

The a.s.sistant topographer of the party, to whom the boy was next introduced, was a great surprise. He looked like anything except what he was. Not particularly prepossessing, he had a large head, already nearly bald, he was slightly bow-legged and short and scant of speech. It was not until weeks later that the boy found out why he had been selected for the trip. His strength was herculean, and in spite of the fact that he was not slightly built he could put a mountain goat to shame at scaling an apparently inaccessible crag. As Magee, the Irishman of the party, described him, "Tie his hands behind his back, and he'll climb up the side of a house with his toenails and his eyebrows."

Of the two camp hands, one was an Indian called Harry, a fine specimen of one of the famous tribes which successfully resisted Russian rule in the early years, and who was regarded as one of the most expert canoeists who had ever been in the Survey.

The other was Magee. And Magee was sufficiently described by his full name, which was Patrick Aloysius Magee. He was a devil-may-care Irishman from Galway, who had spent fifteen years in the gold camps, and had tossed over the poker table and the faro layout the little bags of gold dust that had represented years of weary work. It was not that hope had died out in him, which made him leave prospecting and take to the Survey, but in his own way of putting it, "There were too many men of the female s.e.x around the gold camps now." He had been a sailor for some years, too, in the old sailing-s.h.i.+p days, and had left the sea because of his contempt for steam.

As for the cook, his chief recommendation was that "he could cook an eight-course dinner out of a pair of old boots, and make a man believe he had had something to eat when he was still as hungry as when he sat down." Altogether, Roger thought, as the little gunboat got under way and steamed for Seldovia, near the southern bend of the Kenai peninsula, a more aggressive body of men he had never met, and he determined to hold up his end, no matter what should come.

The gunboat arrived at Seldovia on February 21st, and as the cable rattled through the hawse-hole Rivers took command of the party. His easy manner dropped like a mask, and orders sharp and incisive fell like hail. All the supplies and equipment for the first part of the journey had been sent there the summer before, and were being kept by the storekeeper. No sooner were they ash.o.r.e than Roger was told off with Harry to "get the dogs," and the boy accordingly found himself before a yard where twenty-two "huskies" were "yapping" and howling to their hearts' content. Of these, six were "outside" dogs, imported from the United States, usually mongrel mastiffs, and the other sixteen "huskies"

or native dogs, in this case nearly all Malemut, with a strain of Siwash. The reason for the two kinds of dogs, Harry explained to Roger in answer to a question, was that the outside dog is better as a leader, as he is more intelligent and less mutinous, but that the bulk of the work is to be done by native dogs as they require less food and care, and having a dense pelt, like the wolf, endure hards.h.i.+p far better, while on a rough trail they are less liable to fall lame.

The dogs being duly gathered together, the harness and sleds inspected, Roger a.s.sisted his chief in checking over the supplies and seeing that they were carried to the gunboat for transport to the other side of Cook Inlet. Everything was found intact and as had been ordered, so that little delay was sustained. The overseeing of these things, however, took the entire day, but by evening the dogs were on board and everything disposed for easy trans.h.i.+pment in the morning.

Bright and early the next day the gunboat got her anchor up and started across the Inlet, seeking a landing-place as high up as possible. In less than two hours from Seldovia the ice was reached, and arrangements were made for a landing on the western side of the Inlet. A small bay, which appeared on the charts as Snug Harbor, was chosen as the place for debarkation, which by noon was under way.

The landing was not easy, owing to the ice along the banks, and Roger got a foretaste of what was coming by having to jump overboard and wade through the water, breaking the ice, to carry the supplies ash.o.r.e. In a short while everything was landed, to the satisfaction of Rivers, who had not hoped to be able to run as far up the Inlet. There, standing on the snow, with the dogs howling behind him, Roger stood beside the chief, unheeding that he was cased in ice above the knees, and watched the gunboat dip the Stars and Stripes once in token of farewell. The Alaskan trip was begun.

CHAPTER XIII

WRESTLING WITH A MOUNTAIN GOAT

While the rest of the party was engaged in landing supplies, Rivers ordered Gersup and his a.s.sistant, Bulson, to strike inland a short way in the direction of the volcano, Redoubt Peak, distant about twenty-five miles, in the expectation of finding a trail near by. It seemed obvious that there must be a route along the coast, and that it must lie between the waterside and the foothills of the Chigmit Mountains. Less than an hour elapsed before the men returned with the news that the trail had been located, but that it was entirely snowed under. The dogs accordingly were hitched to the three sleds, one of the outside dogs leading, and the topographer going ahead on snowshoes to point out the trail.

Roger had always had the idea that "mus.h.i.+ng" or driving a dog team, consisted of sitting in state on the sled and cracking a conspicuously long whip at the dogs, but he speedily found out his mistake. Instead of sitting on the sled he had to walk behind it, and in a great many instances to help the dogs by shoving it along. Instead of being able to take things easy and let the teams do the work, the boy learned that the "musher" had to labor far harder and more continuously than the dogs themselves.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A GRIM AND ICY BARRIER.

Alaskan glacier, causing an obstacle to travel, almost inaccessible, yet crossed at last.

_Photograph by U.S.G.S._]

They had not traveled far when Gersup called from in front:

"There's the trail!" and pointed ahead to the right.

Roger looked eagerly in the direction pointed out, expecting to see a fairly well-beaten road, over which the succeeding day they could travel with comfort, but look as he might he could see no signs of a trail. The chief's grunt of satisfaction, however, was evidence enough to the boy that the trail really was there, and as he did not want to expose his ignorance by asking any unnecessary question, he kept his wonderings to himself.

Having got fairly started on the trail, however, the boy found travel easier, yet he was glad when the word was given for a halt, near some heavy timber, affording the materials for a fire. The tents were quickly pitched, wood gathered for a roaring blaze, the animals fed and the sleeping bags laid out, and in a surprisingly short time the party was gathered around a savory supper prepared by the cook while the rest of the men were pitching camp.

The party carried a light-weight, sheet-iron stove, which was a great convenience inside the tent, but, of course, the food for the dogs was cooked on an outside fire. With slight occasional changes, the food given was rice with a little bacon, and usually dried salmon besides.

Roger noted that they were fed but once a day, and could not help thinking how hardly used the petted dogs of civilization would consider themselves if they were to be subjected to such treatment.

Roger slept soundly, despite his new surroundings, and the night seemed all too brief for him when he was roused by the cook. Being February, the days were short, and though it was nearly seven o'clock when the camp was wakened it was almost full dark. But few minutes were allowed before George shouted, "Breakfast," and Roger fell to with the rest of the men, feeling as though he could eat the entire provision of the party at one meal. After breakfast, Rivers told the boy that he would be expected, at the breaking up of camp in the mornings, to help Harry, the Indian, in the harnessing and getting ready of the dogs, as most of the other men were more expert at loading a sled.

It sounded easy enough, but Roger soon discovered that it was far from being a snap. To harness a dog, or even a dozen, was not such a difficult matter, but to hitch them to the sled and to make them stay where they were after they were hitched, that was another question. The "huskies" seemed to take malicious joy in trying to get their harness tangled, and there was always the possibility of a sc.r.a.p to be warded off. So it came about that the boy usually had his hands full in the morning, and was not sorry when the day's pulling was begun and the dogs settled down to their work.

The country over which they were traveling, moreover, was ideal for dog work. The land was flat from the waterside up to the sudden rise of the hills, which were lofty and rugged, 10,000 to 15,000 feet in height, snow-capped and glacier-bearing. Little though Roger knew as a geologist, yet he was keen enough to see that this wide channel must be the delta of a large river, and he was glad to get an affirmative response to his suggestion that in the summer time this might be a good agricultural country.

"The climate in summer here," said Gersup, whom Roger had asked the question, "is nothing short of heavenly, but you could hardly call it thickly settled as yet."

"But it will be some day? Do you suppose?"

"Most a.s.suredly," answered the topographer. "There are thousands upon thousands of acres of land here, which would return immense crops, and all along up the river. All that is needed is a market for the produce."

"But how about moving it?" asked the boy.

"The Sus.h.i.+tna River is navigable for a hundred miles to steamers of light draught, and to barges. You'll see this all in farm like the Red River Valley some of these days."

The thermometer staying about ten degrees below zero made the thought of waving crops a strange one, but this very low temperature was the best of all possible advantages to the party, as it was good for dog traveling. Cold enough to keep the trails in excellent shape, it was not too cold for traveling in comfort. Two days sufficed to bring the party to the point of land jutting out in the sea that makes Cook Inlet a double bay, but at this point, which is known as North Foreland, a sudden drop in temperature, coupled with a gale of wind, delayed progress, so that in all six days had elapsed from the time of landing until they pulled into Tyonok. This is one of the oldest mainland settlements of southwestern Alaska, having been used as the mainland port of the former Russian capital, Kodiak, on Kodiak Island.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A GENERAL VIEW OF TYONOK.

The most northerly harbor in Cook Inlet, usually reached by seagoing vessels. Prospectors' tents along the beach.

_Photograph by U.S.G.S._]

One day was spent at Tyonok purchasing and packing larger supplies of dog feed, of which only enough for a couple of weeks' journey had been taken from Seldovia. Dog-feed is the one article that can always be procured from the natives, but as there was no a.s.surance that the Survey party would meet any natives up the river at that time of year, Rivers decided to complete his supply before he started. Despite the importance of Tyonok as a trading post, almost ranking as a prominent seaport, Roger found it to consist of about forty-five rude log shanties, only one, the general store, being more than one story in height. In summer, so the lad was informed, hundreds of tents are erected along the sh.o.r.e, but the winter population, for such an important point, is ridiculously small.

On March 1st, leaving Tyonok behind, the party proceeded along the western bank of the Sus.h.i.+tna River. The trail, which had been comparatively visible as far as Tyonok, now was problematic, sometimes the sleds were on it, sometimes not, but little difference could be observed. Rivers did not follow the winding of the stream, but as far as possible kept a straight course, though frequently diverted by impa.s.sable bits of brush. Over the Beluga marshes, which a month hence could not be crossed, the party skimmed readily, a firm crust having formed on the snow and the dogs being in good condition. Successive camps were made at the mouth of the Sus.h.i.+tna, at Alexander, and at Sus.h.i.+tna Station, the latter a post of the Alaskan Commercial Company for trading with the natives, and the next day at Kroto. This was the last settlement seen during the first part of the trip; and for many weeks, March 6th was the last date that Roger saw any human being except the members of his party.

Faint as the trail had been, it had been sufficient to point out to the men where conditions were favorable, or at least possible, but after leaving Kroto the signs disappeared entirely. For a couple of hundred yards, perhaps, there might be smooth going, then the party would be brought to an abrupt halt by a belt of forest, through which perhaps a way would have to be made, or around which a detour would be necessary, consuming a great deal of time.

Generally it was possible to make some distance on the river ice, though that was extremely rough and bad traveling, and days would be spent in pa.s.sing from one form of progress to another, much labor being expended, but the party going forward all the time. What made it seem the harder to Roger was that it was still cold enough to require heavy clothing while going ahead on the trail, yet being so warmly clad rendered the labor at difficult places very fatiguing, and if he perspired, the cold wind afterward chilled him to the bone.

It was speedily evident that the rapid march of the first few days was no true index of the time to be consumed on the trip, for while the distance from Kroto to the mouth of the Chulitna, the great tributary of the river up which they were proceeding, was the same as from Kroto to Tyonok, it took the party exactly three times as long. It was not until March 25th that the Chulitna was crossed and the journey up the higher portion of the river begun.

But each day's travel now brought the mountains closer upon them, and the banks of the river narrowed. The flat plain of the lower valley was disappearing and the mountains sloped nearer the water's edge. On the farther sh.o.r.e the Talkeetna range, isolated from all other mountains, rose almost sheer from the water, while on the sh.o.r.e the party traveled, though beyond the Chulitna, the great Alaskan range towered up into the clouds, Mt. McKinley, the highest peak in the United States, rearing his 20,300 feet, snow-capped and glacier-bearing, statuesque above all lower eminences.

Rivers, however, silent and determined, wasted no time or energy, but pushed on relentlessly every minute of the daylight, and often in dawn and dusk, while the light was yet dim. With this persistence it was but April 10th when a halt was called at a little cabin, built at the mouth of Indian Creek, and which had been used by a former Survey party, who had ascended the Sus.h.i.+tna and Indian Creek in the summer by canoes. It had taken that party over three months, while Rivers had been less than half that time.