CHAPTER XII

THE ALASKAN TRIP BEGUN

It seemed to Roger that he was years older when he entered the gray portals of the Geological Survey building in Washington and walked past the big relief models on the wall, to face what he felt to be the crucial question in his career--whether his season's work in the Survey would merit his acceptance by Rivers for the Alaskan trip. He found his official superior, Mr. Herold, engaged, and so went in to thank his friend Mitchon for the interest that he had shown and the kindly letters he had written.

It seemed quite home-like to him, entering once more the offices of the Geological Survey, and he spent a pleasant half-hour chatting over his experiences, his later excitements in the Pecos country arousing special interest. He was about to go when his friend stopped him with a gesture.

"Wait till I come back," he said.

A few minutes later he returned, saying:

"The Director would like to see you for a moment." The boy looked up with surprise, and the secretary continued reassuringly, "There's nothing to be scared about, I don't think you'll consider it bad news."

Roger rose promptly and went to the Director's office, and the latter shook hands heartily and motioned him to a seat.

"I think I ought to tell you, Mr. Doughty," he said, and Roger straightened up at least one inch at the manly form of address, "that I have received some reports from Mr. Herold, relating to the various parties on which you have served, which touch on your progress in the work. You will remember, of course, your meeting with the President?"

"Yes indeed, sir," answered the boy.

"This plan to secure trained workers by picking desirable material from the colleges and schools, on which a well-known philanthropist was so keen, has aroused no little interest in the Survey. As you were the first to go out, I have been anxious to see how the scheme would develop, and I was glad, a couple of months ago, to be able to tell the President that Mr. Carneller's project was proving most successful." He paused a moment. "It is but right to you to say," he continued, "that you have fulfilled the hopes I had, and that your first year's work on the Survey is a beginning of which I think you may be proud."

Roger flushed hotly at this praise, and seeing that the Director awaited a reply, said simply:

"It is very good of you to say so, sir. I just tried to do my best."

"Of course," went on the Director, "you have a great deal to learn and are very new in the work, so I don't want you to think for a moment that you know it all--or for that matter, that you ever will. But those with whom you have been speak approvingly of your obedience to the call of duty and of your ability to continue hard work uncomplainingly. I am not sure," there was a twinkle in the speaker's eye, "that making believe to be lost when you are ensconced in the branches of a tree is particularly conducive to discipline?" He waited for a reply.

Roger looked at him, and taking courage from the lurking smile, answered:

"No, sir. But," he added, "perhaps as much so as a snipe-shoot."

"A fair answer," was the kind reply. "Well," continued the Director, a little more authoritatively, "I am not at all sure that you will achieve your desire to go to Alaska next season, though I should not wish to go so far as to decide against it. In any case, Mr. Rivers, as head of the Alaskan work, chooses his own men. It is not that I am afraid of your not doing your best," he added, seeing the look of disappointment on the boy's face, "but that I feel it might be a little too much for you. The Alaskan work is a great strain for young bones."

"Not more so, sir, than crossing the Grand Canyon, is it?" Roger felt emboldened to ask.

"Don't boast!" came the sharp rebuke, "I don't like it. But," he continued, seeing the boy wilt under the criticism, "I merely desired to see you to say that I am well pleased with your work, and that I hope the college assistants, hereafter to follow, will prove equally successful."

Roger left the office of the Director as though he were treading on air, a feeling enhanced by the cordial reception accorded him by Herold, the chief geographer. There he learned, to his intense delight, that he had been appointed by Rivers on the Alaskan party, which was to spend the entire spring and summer in a south to north reconnoissance of that great Arctic territory.

"I was afraid," Roger said to the geographer, "from what the Director said, that I would not get the appointment."

"Well," Herold replied, "Mr. Rivers seemed to feel that you were keen for it, and figured that if it were given you, you would strain every nerve to make good. But, you see, you will have to do your utmost to justify the stand that Mr. Rivers and myself have taken."

"It won't be for want of trying, Mr. Herold," answered Roger, his eyes shining.

"I am sure of that, my boy," said the older man kindly, "and that's what we are depending on. Now, let me see, this is the second of December, isn't it? Rivers sails from Seattle on February 15th, so that you had better reckon on being there about the 12th. Suppose then, you go home now for the holidays, take just a month, and report in Washington here on January 2nd, a month from to-day. Then we'll give you a few weeks' work here to learn something about headquarters, and then you can go right on to the Pacific Coast, perhaps spending a day or two at home before starting on the expedition."

Roger thanked him heartily, as much for his thoughtfulness about the vacation as for the appointment he had desired so long. Indeed his month at home, amid an air in which he was a sort of hero, passed rapidly, and as the idol of all the boys in the neighborhood, he had to spin yarns by the score, these tales being given reality by the dozens of photographs he had taken on the various parties of which he had been a member. Some of the photos were his own, but others were prints of negatives taken by the assistant topographers usually, for nearly every party in the field has some member whose skill makes him almost an official photographer. Indeed, nearly every one on the Survey is a master of photography, and few outfits do not contain at least one excellent camera.

On his return to Washington in January, however, Roger found it somewhat tedious to settle to indoor office work, but his interest grew in finding that the department had in operation scores of other lines of work that had not occurred to him. His surprise in the field at constantly encountering new avenues of work became amazement in Washington, when he first really gained an idea of the extent of the department's scope.

On the question of maps alone, he learned how important the Survey is to the country. Maps which should show a mining company in which direction ore-bearing veins should run, maps which should inform a railroad as to the comparative elevations along a proposed right of way, maps which should teach a farmer where to sink an artesian well for watering his stock, maps which form the basis of vast irrigation projects, maps which point the builder where to go to quarry stone, maps to form the basis of the special timber charts of the Forestry Service, maps dealing with coal-producing areas, and for a score of other purposes, for all these the Survey is called on.

And there, in Washington, the year through, Roger found expert and skilled men making these maps, compiling them from the sketches made in the field, correcting minor errors, comparing them with former data, and producing works of exactitude and immense value. Some idea of the exactness of the work was gained by the boy when it was pointed out to him that in the Bureau of Engraving the printing of all this exact drawing must be done in a room where the temperature and humidity are the same the year round, since paper will shrink in a dry spell and expand when moist, and the printing of such a map extending over a period of months, might thus be made fractionally incorrect.

Then it dawned upon the lad that the libraries of scientific records of which Survey workers are the authors must needs require time and labor, and the compilation of statistics needed in other parts of the government service also takes up time. So that Roger began to see that the proofreading of all geologic and topographic maps, all illustrations and all text of Survey papers have to be done and revised by competent men, in order that the scientific accuracy of these can never be impeached. He saw the scope of the annual reports, the monographs, the professional papers and the bulletins, and was not surprised to learn that these were in great demand, not only in the United States, but by foreign governments as well.

"But all this," said Roger to his friend the secretary, as they were talking together one day, "must cost the country a heap of money."

The other smiled.

"It has saved the country a great deal of money," he said. "In the first place the Survey is very economically run, and then besides, millions of dollars have been put into the hands of manufacturing interests by pointing out to them the value of by-products which formerly were wasted."

"For example, Mr. Mitchon?"

"Well, for example, the waste of the by-products of coke-ovens, such as coal-tar, ammonia, etc.," replied the secretary. "Here, come with me to the laboratories, and I'll show you."

In the large chemical and physical laboratories at Washington the boy found samples of metals and minerals of all sorts being tested and analyzed. He found that all the great works of the government are undertaken only with the advice of the Geological Survey, and he learned, moreover, that in certain branches the Chemical Laboratories stand higher than those of any government in the world.

As each day passed the lad heard of some new activity of the Survey. He learned that every ton of coal consumed and every ounce of gold mined, was duly recorded by the Survey, and to his amazement discovered that the due safeguarding of life in mines and quarries was not outside its province. The refining of oil was regarded as appertaining to minerals, and many difficulties of fuel in steam engineering the boy found to have been minimized by the Survey in the power and lighting plants of the government. And, if this were not enough, it was borne in upon him that even such structural materials as brick, terra cotta and the concrete bodies, had in some cases found their beginnings and in others their best development under a further division of the Survey.

Then, to cap all, it was shown to Roger, that this multifarious work required careful and prudent administration, supervising all the details of personnel, expense, purchase, and distribution of supplies and so forth, to say nothing of adjunct matters, like library and fossil work. Thus it was, that when the boy left Washington a month later, he had decided that an entire lifetime on the Survey would be all too little to grasp the vast and dominating usefulness that it bore to the country at large.

Thus the fated day arrived for Roger's start. He had made himself well-liked all through the building, and there were many to wish him luck on the expedition. A most hearty and cordial good-fellowship Roger found to run through all departments, and the good wishes of his superiors and companions were happy auguries for the start. The Director, too, called him into his office and gave him a most encouraging send-off, sounding no note of doubtfulness or regret, and Roger felt, as he left Washington, that no boy could ask pleasanter friends or more helpful comrades than those he had met on the Survey.

The chief geographer had accorded him an extra two days' leave in which to go home before he need start for Seattle, and Roger was full of pride, as his former schoolmates gathered around him to be able to speak loftily of traversing "territory on which no white man had ever set his foot." It was a little boastfully put, but as after events proved, it was true none the less.

The journey across the continent gave time for reflection, and now that there was no chance of drawing back, the warnings and advice that had been given to Roger rushed over him like a flood, and he had for a while a haunting fear lest anything should happen on the trail to shake the confidence his superiors had in him. But these fears vanished like a morning mist, when, arrived at Seattle, he went on board the gunboat, lying a short distance from the shore, and realized that he, Roger, had a right to board a vessel of the United States Navy.

Rivers was on deck, and he came forward promptly to meet the boy, saying, as he shook hands:

"So you made good, didn't you, eh? Well, I thought you would."

Roger laughed quietly.

"You said I had to!" he replied.

The boy's new chief gave a half-smile.

"Well," he said, "if you always do everything I say you have to do, I'll be quite satisfied. But it's not a summer picnic, by any means, and you may be sorry before you're through."

"That may be, Mr. Rivers," answered the boy cheerily, "but I'm not sorry yet. I'm mighty glad to be here."

"I've been sorry often enough that I took up field work, but----" he paused.

"But what?" asked Roger.

"But I couldn't get back to it quick enough the next year," answered the geologist.

"If the past summer is any test," went on Roger, "I guess I'll be the same way, for I never enjoyed anything so much in all my life. Why, I felt quite stifled back in Washington."

"If you've been caught with the exploring fever," rejoined the older man, "there's nothing more to be said, for that's a disease for which there is no cure, except----" He paused abruptly again.

"Yes?" queried Roger.

"Except old age, and that the explorer never reaches," was the steady reply. "And now you must meet the rest of the boys."

He turned to the topographer, who was standing near.

"Mr. Gersup," he said, "this is the boy."

"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 assistant 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 sex around the gold camps now." He had been a sailor for some years, too, in the old sailing-ship 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 ashore 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 hardship 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 assisted 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 transhipment 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 ashore. 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.