Part 4

The outfit is largely homemade, not imposing, old, unpainted, and unfit for the rough--but it could be worse. It consists of a scow, a low, flat-bottomed boat, partly covered with canvas roof on birch hoops, in which Peake (the owner) carries fresh meat to some one, a stove, dishes, bedding, and many other things; and the motor boat proper, in which there is little room except for the machine and its tender. The latter sits on a soap box; I, on a seat extemporized from a cylindrical piece of firewood with a little board across it, with my two boxes and bedding within easy reach. Sit in front of the scow, except when driven back by spray. But our motor works and so we start quite well at some time after 11. The arrangement is to stop at every white man's camp or settlement down to Ruby. I could have gone on a better boat with its owner, but they charge here $15 a day, with "keep," and twice the amount for the return of the man and the boat, which is beyond my resources.

Tanana--Ruby. The river is clearer than the Tanana, and much broader. It is a great fine stream and its shores, while mostly still low on the left, on the right rise here and there into moderate loess bluffs, far beyond which are seen higher elevations and bluish forested mountains. All covered with poplar and spruce.

2.15 p. m. Wind has so increased that the scow bumps and squeaks and there is danger of opening its seams. Therefore side to the beach and make lunch--a roast of fat pork, over-salted, canned spinach, dry bread, and black coffee. All on a simple, old, but efficient little stove in the boat. Our companion, the oculist, rides not with us but in a nice little green canoe with a plaything of a gasoline motor fastened to the backboard, but we all eat and sleep together.

But a few small Indian camps seen, and no white man's house. Soon after lunch, however, approach "The Old Station," where there are a few Indian houses, and later a white man's place (Burchell's). Stop at the latter. Learn that we are 20 miles from Tanana and on a 5-mile-long channel. There are here 15 to 40 feet high loess-like (silt) bluffs with a flat on the top, which latter was from far back one of the most important sites of the Indians of these regions. Mr. Burchell and his partner kindly take me back, with their better boat, to the main old site. Many old graves there, a few still marked. Traces of dugouts (birch-bark lined), houses, caches, etc., from Burchell's place to old main site. Important place that deserves to be thoroughly excavated, though this will entail no little work. Site was of the choicest, dominant, healthy. Connects by a trail, still traceable, with the Koyukuk region.

There are said to be no traces of pottery in any of these parts. But average to very large stone axes are washed out occasionally from the banks, and other articles are dug out (long ivory spear, bone scraper, etc.). Promise of bones, etc., by Mr. Burchell.

One hundred miles more to Ruby. Near 8 p. m. start again--sun still high, little wind--endeavor to get to the "bone yard," a great bank bearing fossils. Fine clean scenery, flat on left, flat to elevated with grey-blue mountainous beyond on right. Water now calm and we make good progress. Very few camps--dogs on the beach, fish-drying racks a little farther, then a little log cabin and perhaps a tent, with somewhere near by in the river the inevitable fish wheel, turning slowly with the current.

Had supper at Burchell's; white fish, boiled potato, coffee, some canned greens.

Scenery in spots precious, virginal, flat at the river, elevated behind, foreground covered by the lighter green of poplars and birches, with upright, somber, dark spruce behind. Sun on the right, half moon on the left, and river like a big glassy lake, just rippling a little here and there. Cooler--need a coat. On right, getting gradually nearer the mountains.

Near 10 p. m. Sun still above horizon. On left a long (several miles), mostly wooded, but here and there denuded, palisade-like bank, apparently 200-400 feet high--the "graveyard."

Monday, June 21. Just at sunset last night--after 10 o'clock--came to the "bone yard" bank--a long curving line of loess bluffs 100 to 300 feet high, steep right to water's edge, riven by many ravines. Lowest third (approximately) light compact loess; then a thick layer of river sand (stratified more or less) and small gravel, then from one-third to nearly two-fifths of darker loess. In spots quite dark, frozen, but on surface melting, "running," also tumbling in smaller or larger masses. Wherever darker there emanates from it and spreads far out over the river a decided mummy-like smell. Too late to photograph from boat, and no other place available. Also impracticable to explore with any detail--would take several days and be a difficult work. The bluffs become gradually lower downstream. No bones seen from boat, but mostly were not near enough to discern. A remarkable formation, in many ways, and in need of masterly study as well as description.

Night on a low gravelly and pebbly beach. Many mosquitoes. Mosquito netting found bad--sides too short (gave directions, but they were disregarded) and mesh not small enough. In a short time impossible to stay under. Supplemented by old netting of Mr. Peake, who will sleep under his canvas in the boat; but the old dirty net has holes in it and the mosquitoes keep on coming through the two. Fighting them until some time after midnight, then under all my things--netting, blanket, clothes--find some rest, sleeping until 4.30 a. m. After that--full day, of course--sleep impossible. The "optician," who slept well under proper Alaska netting, gets up, wakes my man; we both get up, shake, roll up bedding, have a cat-wash, then breakfast, and at 6.30 off once more along the beautiful but not hospitable river.

Inquiry at a local white man's cabin about fossils and Indian things negative--has paid no attention, and fossil bones that he sometimes comes across generally not in good state of preservation.

Right bank now hilly, with greater hills and then mountains behind. Warm, river smooth, just a light breeze. How puny we are in all this greatness.

A lot of trouble develops with the engine to-day--bad pump. Will not get to Ruby until evening. Meat, on which I must sit occasionally, begins to smell, and there are numerous horseflies, probably attracted by the smell.

Four p. m. Visit Kokrines, on a high bank, native village, cemetery. Photograph some natives, are good natured, talk pidgin English. Clearly considerable old Eskimo admixture, but the substratum and main portion is Indian. All kind and cheerful here, glad to have pictures taken. Only white man is a "road-house" keeper; i. e., storekeeper. Store, however, poorly stocked, probably in all not over $200 worth of goods. "Optician," who is hoggish, has headache, but eats and drinks all he can nevertheless. "Jeweler" repaired his pump, and so we are once more on the way--35 miles more to Ruby. No trace of any relics at Kokrines.

River now a mile wide, with many "slews" (side channels, sloughs), and many low, flat, forested islands. Mountains to right, higher, traces of snow. Smoke wall from forest fire advancing from the west--now also smell. Islands beautiful, fresh colors and clean--light grass on border, then green and grayish poplars, birches, and alder, from among which rise the blackish green spruces. Little native fishing camps a mile or two apart, right bank--on left wilderness of flats, as usual.

A few miles above Ruby conditions change--high bluffs (rocky) now on left, flat on right side. Ruby, from a distance and after the loneliness of the day, looks quite a little town on the left bank, at the base of the higher ground.

RUBY

June 22-23. Our approach to Ruby was very modest. With Mr. Peake paid off, we just sided against and tied to the bank, on which are the lowest houses of the village, and carried out my boxes and bedding on the bank. There two or three men were idly watching our arrival. I asked about the local marshal, to whom I had a note, and had my things carried to the combined post office and hotel. In almost no time I meet Mr. Thomas H. Long, the marshal, become acquainted with the people about, tell my mission, and begin to collect. It does not take long for one properly introduced to be thoroughly and warmly at home in Alaska. The first specimen I get is a fine fossilized mammoth molar. It is brought to me by Albert Verkinik, who was about to depart for some mines, but went back to get the tooth. And he asks no compensation.

The parts of two days spent at Ruby were quite profitable. Visiting, and in the jail, were several Indians who could be noted and photographed. At the old jail there were two skulls of Indians that were donated. The teacher had two of the characteristic Yukon two-grooved axes. The postmaster, Mr. H. E. Clarke, gave a collection of fresh animal skulls. Mr. Louis Pilback donated two mammoth molars, found 2 miles up the Yukon on Little Melozey Creek, about 8 feet deep, in the muck right over the gravel. Mrs. Monica Silas brought me a good old stone knife. Several of the men took me down to the beach to see a damaged fossil elephant skull, also to see some fossiliferous workings above the town. Another party took me a few miles up and across the river to see an Indian camp and near by some old burials. The collections were sent through parcel post; and the evening before departure I gave a lecture to an attentive and respectful audience.

The town itself, however, is now a mere damaged and crumbling shell of what it was in the heyday of its glory, during the gold rush. Many of the frame dwellings and stores are empty; the board sidewalks are rickety and with big holes; and in the air is a general lack of impetus.

June 23. Failing to find another suitable boat, I once more made an arrangement to go farther down the river with Mr. Peake and his friend. Peake's boat and scow were not much to look at, and the troubles with the engine, and with its owner's raw swearing at times, were somewhat trying; but for my purpose the outfit did well enough, and I was treated very well and given all needed opportunity to examine what was of importance on the banks. I was quite sorry when eventually we had to part company, and I know Mr. Peake has not forgotten my quest, for I heard of his talking about it to parties, with whom I was very glad to come in contact, on the Kuskokwim.

June 23. The sunny evening of my second busy day at Ruby, near 10 p. m., Peake unexpectedly comes to the hotel to tell me he will be ready to start to-night, on account of quiet water. His wash "is being ironed" and will be ready soon. The marshal comes in, calls the prisoners to take down my baggage, and at 10.15, after true, hearty good-byes, I am once more in the old scow. Then Peake goes for his wash, with an Indian woman, and does not come until near 11. River peaceful, sun shortly set, sky somewhat cloudy, forest fire on opposite shore below still smoking a great deal. Leaving good people at Ruby, who promise to help in the future. It is getting much cooler after a pretty warm day. Will lie on the hard boxes and try to get a little sleep.

Thursday, June 24. We went long into the night, then stopped at a lone cabin. Up timely, but slow start--it is 10.10 a. m. before we go. The time gained at night lost now--bad habits. Breeze up the river, occasionally strong, but not severe.

The cabin was the "Dutchman's," or Meyer's. He came out at 1 a. m. to meet us, at the bark of his big dogs, a good-hearted, weather-seared prospector, fisherman, and trapper of about 40, alone with his huskies. Asked me into his little log hut, prepared a place for my bedding on a frame, burned powder against the mosquitoes, brought out from cool "cellar" a bottle of root beer he brews, and then we went to sleep. But dogs kept waking us and Meyer went out several times to quiet them. Fall asleep at 3.20 and oblivious until near 7. Meyer forces on me six bottles of root beer, I leave him some prescriptions, and taking my bed roll we go down to the boat. My men still sleeping, as I expected. And then slow awakening, breakfast, and late starting.

Meyer never saw any Indian bones or stones, but promises cheerfully to watch for them hereafter and to make inquiries. Of course, he also, like so many in these lands, tells of a "prospect" of a gold find, and is quite confident he'll "make good." As usual, also, it is a "lead" that was "lost" and he believes he has found it. And all the time the gold is inside, not outside, of these hunters of the yellow star.

Hills on the right again; flat islands, banks, etc., on the left. Meyer's is 18 miles down from Ruby, right bank. About 5 miles farther down on the slopes of the right bank is a pretty little Indian graveyard (pl. 1, _b_), and a little lower down there are three now empty Indian huts.

Hills and mountains seen also now beyond the wide flats of the left bank. The hills on right, along which we pass, are more or less forested, but often just bushy and grassy. They rise to about 600 to 700 feet and the slopes are seldom steep. Along their base there are many elevated platforms, low swells, and nooks, that could have served of old--as they serve here and there now--for native habitation, though only few could have accommodated larger villages.

Pass an Indian camp--the inevitable staked dogs; a swimming boy--first being seen bathing in the open.

Whiskey Creek next. Sixty-two dogs, all along the bank, and each one-half or more in his own cooling hole; holes they dig down to near the frozen ground. A settler, and two Indians--a photograph. No relics or bones now, but will watch; promise also to save some animal skulls, etc.

Twelve o'clock. Off again. Day better now, less squally, warm.

Hills above and below lower and earthy--loess, at least much of it. The right shore is all along sunnier, higher, more beautiful, and more open to wind (less mosquitoes). These are the reasons, doubtless, why it was of old and is still the favored side for habitations by natives as well as whites.

Just before reaching "Old Lowden," overtaken by a rather crazily driven small motor boat with four young Indians, who hand us a crude message for the storekeeper at Galena, telling him that a baby in the camp is to die to-night. I offer to see the baby. Find a boy infant about one year or a little over, ill evidently with bronchitis. Father and mother, each about 30, sit over it brooding in dumb grief, each on one side. Respond not to my presence, and barely so to my questions. And when I begin to tell to the fellow who interprets and is some relative that the baby need not die, and what to do--I note that he is somewhat under the influence of liquor and a little flushed--to my dismay he begins to rant against me as a doctor and against the Government, and wants me perforce, seemingly, to say that the child is going to die and die to-night. There are two guns around and I almost anticipate his catching hold of one. The gist of the piecemeal talk is that they believe I am a Government doctor, who ought to stay four or five days with them and take over the child's treatment, and yet the fellow insists that the child will die before next morning. I do not know what they would say or do to the doctor if he undertook to stay and the child died--or if it recovered. It is dismal. They have the idea that the "Government" is obliged to do all sorts of things for them, without being clear just what, and that it does not do them. They believe, and try to say so, that I am sent and paid by the Government to treat them. Probably they have heard about the Government medical party that is to examine conditions along the river this summer, and think that I do not want to do or give what is necessary. I give all the possible advice, but there is plainly no inclination to follow it. I offer some medicine; they sneer at medicine. Even the father says he does not understand it or want it. They are all surly and in a dangerous, stupid mood. So there is nothing left but to go away as well as one may.

On way down the bank a woman is seen cleaning and cutting fish--knife steel, with wood or ivory handle, of the Chinese and Eskimo type. A porcupine, bloated, and with flies and maggots on it already about the nose, mouth, and eyes, lies next to the woman, and its turn will probably come next after the fish.

Have modest lunch--canned pears, a bit of cold bacon left from morning, a bit of cheese, and coffee; and start once more onward. So much beauty here, and such human discord.

3.30 p. m. Passing on right bank a line of bluffs, wholly of loess, about 200 feet high and approximately 4 miles long, and as if shaven with knife from top to water's edge. After that flats only on both sides, with but one hill far ahead of us.

Motor trouble again--same old pump; but not for long; in half an hour on again. A steamer upward passes us--like a stranger, and power.

GALENA

A little town (village), on a flat promontory. An old consumptive storekeeper--no knowledge of any old implements or skeletal remains. Lowden village moved here due to mine opposite and better site. About 10 Indian houses here; inhabitants now mostly in fishing camps.

From Galena down, low shores and islands as on the Tanana, as far as can be seen, with mountains, grayish blue, in far distance (and only occasional glimpses). River never less than three-fourths of a mile and sometimes together with its sloughs and islands several miles broad. Some geese; occasional rabbit seen on land; otherwise but little life. First gulls.

The Indians at Ruby and Galena show here and there an Eskimoid type, with the younger nearly all mix bloods (with whites). Full bloods of same type as all along the river, brachycephalic, low to moderate high vault of head, moderate to medium (rarely above) stature, medium brown, noses not prominent, concavo-convex, moderately convex or nearly straight, Indian cast of the face, but quite a few more or less Eskimoid. Not very bright.

Sit in the bottom of the scow, in front, before the stove and make notes. When we stop, jump out to tie the boat; when leaving, push it off. Getting sunburnt dark. Forgetting once again that I have a stomach or any other organ. Only sleep, never fully, much less than ought to; but even that is somehow much more bearable here than it would be at home.

6.45 p. m. Suddenly, after a turn, confronted with a steep rocky promontory about 500 feet high--stratified mud rocks. On side, high above, a tall white cross; learn later an Indian murdered a bishop here. A little farther, on a flat below the slope, a small settlement. A remarkable landmark, known as the Bishop's Rock. Afterwards again flats, but some more elevated than before to the left. River like a great looking-glass. Same character of vegetation and colors as farther above, but details varied.

At Ruby had made a genuine, effective, Alaska mosquito netting, and so now feel quite independent of the pest; also have two bottles of mosquito oil, which helps. Fortunately on the water we are not bothered.

Toward night reach Koyukuk River, and later on, Koyukuk village, a pleasant row of houses, white and native, on a high bank. Here, at last, pass one good night, sleeping under good mosquito netting in the house and on the bed of an Italian trader. Also had good supper of salmon, and good breakfast of bacon and eggs, and so feel rested and strong.

Friday, June 25. But in the morning the sky is overcast and every now and then there is a loose shower. Of course my boon companions are not ready again until long after 9 o'clock, and then the engine will not go again, so a longer delay. They were inclined, in fact, to "lay over," but I urged them on. But they are determined if it rains a bit more to "tie to" somewhere. Fortunately there is no wind. About 3 miles below Koyukuk and its flats, the high bluffs with steep more or less shaved-like barren slopes recommence. A gloomy day.

About 7 miles down, after a large rocky promontory, a small graveyard on the side of a hill, with a little native camp about a third of a mile beyond.

10.45 a. m. Beautiful wooded great hills, 400 to 800 feet high, all along the right bank again, with large ~V~-shaped valleys between. A fine, rounded, slightly more than usually elevated island ahead. Left banks flat.

Sun coming out a little; cool, but not unpleasant. No more showers, river smooth, boat making time. Blue hazy mountains far to the left front.

Hills to right rocky, strata horizontal to warped, mud rocks, broad banks of sandy, gravelly or mucky materials, not consolidated, between hard strata.

Now and then a small Indian camp, usually two or three tents, Indians, dogs, boats; some drying fish (not much).

11.00 a. m. Another isolated little graveyard, right slope, near an old camp.

There is no possibility now of excavating any of these graveyards, for the Indians are in unpleasant disposition toward the Government for various reasons. But such a place as that near Burchell's could be excavated as soon as conditions improve. Also that above Ruby and another opposite and just below Ruby. There are no longer any superstructures left at these (or but traces), and the graves, as seen above Ruby, are near (within 2 feet of) the surface.

No trace or indication of anything older than the double-grooved ax culture has thus far been seen anywhere in the valley; and large stretches of present banks are quite barren.

As we approach Nulato the horizon before us becomes hilly and mountainous. The sun is now fully out and its warmth is very pleasant. Pass an Indian woman paddling a canoe; later an Indian family going upstream in a motor boat. Most of these Indians possess a motor boat of some sort, and know how to run it, though it is not in their nature to be overcareful.

NULATO

(Pl. 1, _b_)

Arrive midday. Quite a village, as usual along the water front on a high bank. Large fancy modern surface burial ground with brightly painted boxes and flying flags on a hill to the right. Met by local marshal and doctor; my things are taken to a little hospital. Natives here have poor reputation, but now said to be better. Boys nearly all mix bloods. Several men and women show Eskimo type, but majority are Indian to somewhat Eskimoid. Soon find they are not very well disposed--want pay for everything, and much pay. Have a few specimens, but to obtain anything from them is difficult. Have been spoiled.

A visit with the marshal to the site of old Nulato on the proximate point; nothing there, just a rabbit's skull and a lot of mosquitoes. Photograph old graveyard (that of old Nulato), on the distal point beyond the creek.

Mr. Steinhauser, trader, of Czech descent, helpful and kind. But nothing further to do here. Steamer that was to be here to-night or to-morrow will not arrive, just learned, until Tuesday (this is Friday); and so must engage a little gasoline boat to the next station, Kaltag, 40 miles down the river.

Sleep under my new netting in the hospital. In the morning, after parting with doctor and marshal, start 8.30 a. m. Boat little, shaky, run by a half-breed boy of about 18. My old scow with Peake and his companion will stay a day longer. Partly cloudy, warm.

Pass flats, and come again to similar shaved-off bluffs like yesterday. We are now running close to the shore so that I can see everything. Flowers, but not many or many varieties.

9.50 a. m. Pass (about 8 miles from Nulato) a few burials (old boxes) on right slope. (Pl. 1, _c_.) Indian camp about one-half mile farther, and a few old abandoned huts and caches.