Читать книгу Anthropological Survey in Alaska - Aleš Hrdlička - Страница 26

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Thursday, July 15. In the morning, after a good trip, reach St. Michael—quite a town from a distance, with many boats on the shore in front of it; but soon find that it is largely a dead city and ships' graveyard, not harbor. With the gold rush over, and the Government railroad from Seward to the Tanana, men and business have departed. Before the summer is over most of the large buildings and the fine large boats are to be demolished, and there will be left but a lonely village.

Unload my collections on the old dock. The postman kindly comes down from his place, which, with Mr. Williams's store, is far up on the hill above the harbor, the boxes are weighed and stamped for the parcel post, and relieved of them I go to the hotel and spend the day in visiting the teacher, the marshal, Mr. Williams's store, where I see a whole lot of recent Eskimo ceremonial masks decorated with colors and feathers, and the wireless station to send a message to the Institution. All native (Eskimo) character is almost gone from the place, what remains being mainly civilized mix bloods; and also little, if anything, remains to be collected, particularly now when all vacant land is thickly overgrown with grass and weeds. An occasional skull appears, one having been seen recently on the beach and one on Whale Island, but there is little besides, though things could be found doubtless by excavation.

Items of interest in Mr. Williams's store, and also in that of the N. C. Co., are various articles cut handsomely by the Eskimo from walrus ivory, both fresh and "fossil" (old and nicely discolored). There are beads, napkin rings, hairpins, cigar and cigarette holders, and other objects, generally exceedingly well made and decorated. It is, of course, well known that the Eskimo are very apt in this work; it is not, however, so well known that every island or village has certain specialties and types of decoration. This is so true that an observer before long can tell in many instances just where a given article has been made.

The fossil ivory industry is, it was soon learned, becoming a serious detriment to archeological work in these regions; of which, however, more later.

During the day I find that a small boat, the Silver Wave, belonging to Lomen Bros., will leave St. Michael for Nome that same evening. As this suits me very well I engage a berth on the boat, help to get my baggage on deck over a broken landing place, and get ready to depart.

At 6 leave St. Michael. The Silver Wave is a tub—too short—am told if it were of proper length they would have to have more help. Result—very unsteady. Fortunately the weather is fair, and the captain gives me a berth in his cabin. I had originally a stateroom, right in the back, with three bunks or beds, so small that one could barely get into the beds; but there came two mix-breed women with a girl and so they turned me out and put me in the "hole"—seven bunks in an ill-ventilated cabin under the deck in the stern of the ship. She is only about 60 feet long by about 15 broad. As it is I have a bunk in what would have been a well-ventilated little cabin, had it not been for rough weather which came on later in the night and which necessitated the closing of the window.

Friday, July 16. The rougher weather came and the boat began to pitch and roll. Luckily I slept for the most part. At about 6.30 the captain called me to breakfast with him. I got up rather groggy from the sea, but managed to wash my face and get to the little messroom, where the cook started to bring eggs, bacon, coffee, etc.—and then I had enough and had all I could do to reach my bunk again without getting seasick. I was kept on the verge of it until after 10, when we arrived off Nome.

This, however, meant no relief. There was no bay, no dock, no shelter for even such a small boat, and so we anchored a few hundred yards off the shore along which stretch the long line of unpainted (mostly), weather-beaten frame dwellings of this northern capital.

By this time I barely keep my feet, but they lowered a heavy rowboat, and several of us—there were four other men passengers—are helped to tumble in. I get back, and to steady myself catch hold of the borders of the boat, only for this the next moment to be dashed against the larger boat with my hand between. It was almost too much, the seasickness and added to it the very painful hurt. Fortunately the fingers were not crushed, just bruised badly—they might easily have been mashed to a pulp.

They row us in and we tumble out on the sand, and there is no one to receive anybody or take any notice. However, after a while there comes accidentally an old two-seated Ford. Three of us crowd in, leave the few bulkier things we brought along on the beach unguarded, and are driven to the other end of the town, to the Golden Gate Hotel.

This is a big old frame building, out of plumb in several directions. There is no one in the spacious lobby. However, after a time some one, not looking much like a proprietor—more like a groom at work—comes out from somewhere and without much ado shows us each to a room. Mine smells musty, old sweat and blankets and mould, and looks out on a dilapidated tin roof—must ask for another. Finally get one "front" for $3—the other was only $2.50. Musty too, but fairly large, and with a double bed with, at last again, clean covers.

Unshaven—in the khaki worse for rain and work—with fingers so sore they can not bear a touch, feverish, and head still dizzy—I go to lunch. On my way stop at Coast Guard building—no one there; at the Roads Commission—office empty; at the Customs—not a soul. But at the courthouse they tell me where Judge Lomen sometimes lunches, and so I go there. It is near by—nothing here is far distant—and so I soon sit at Mrs. Niebeling's, a justly famed Nome's "for everybody," at a clean table and to a big civilized dinner. Order reindeer roast—find it this time, in my condition, not much to boast of—one could hardly tell it from similarly done beef—and begin on the coffee when in comes a young man, asks me if I am the doctor, and introduces himself as Mr. Alfred Lomen, the judge's son; and in a minute or two in comes the judge himself, a kindly man of something over 70. It all makes me feel a lot better, though still weak. Have rest of lunch together and talk, but do not get very far in anything that interests me; but the judge takes me to the Catholic Fathers here, who have an orphanage somewhere near where I want next to go, and leaves me with Father Post. The father is kindly, but himself does not know much, and so makes arrangements for me to meet next day Father Lafortune, who works among the Eskimo.

Then I go once more to the Coast Guard building and meet Captain Ross, in charge. The Bear, I learn, has just arrived here, and is soon going north. She is my godsend, evidently. So Captain Ross sends me over to see Captain Cochran. The meeting is good, and I have a promise to be taken to the cape and some other stations. But the Bear goes first to coal at St. Michael, and then will make a visit to St. Lawrence Island. So I propose to go to Teller first, see what I can of the Chukchee-Eskimo "battle field" near there, and be taken from there by the Bear. The priests give me some hope for getting there over an inland route, but later on tell me one of the boats of the orphanage which is located in that region is away and the other has broken down, so that there will be no possibility of making the trip through the Salt Lake and to Teller. But the Victoria (the Seattle boat to come to-night) will go to Teller. Unfortunately, if weather is rough or there are no passengers she will not stop at Nome, so all is again uncertain. The Silver Wave goes northward next Monday, but I have a dread of her. All of which is put down merely to show slightly what an explorer without a boat of his own may expect in these regions.

Nome, Saturday, July 17. Poor night again—it surely seems to be the fashion in Alaska. The Victoria came at night (or what should be night). The ramshackle big frame hotel, with partitions so thin that they transmit every sound, got about 40 guests, and next room to mine came to be occupied by two women who had visitors, female and male, were taken out for a ride after 12 and returned about 2 a. m. One of them, or their visitor, had a perpetual vocal gush, the others chimed in now and then, and a strong male voice added the bass from time to time, with old Fords noisily coming and going outside, and people going up and down the stairs. So sleep for some hours was out of the question. And there was nothing to do about it.

After breakfast went to meet Father Lafortune, a Catholic missionary priest to the Eskimo, who speaks their language well and who promised to accompany me to their habitations; and together we spent the forenoon on one side of the town, among the natives of the Diomedes, and most of the afternoon on the other end among the people from King Island. It was a good experience, resulting in seeing a good many of the Eskimo and getting some information, a few photographs, and quite a few old specimens. Then we went to the parsonage, where I got a few good photos from Father Lafortune's collection. He is a matter-of-fact, always ready to help, natural he-man, rather than a priest and teacher, and a great practical helper to the natives, who all are his friends.

Also saw Judge Lomen, arranged for lecture to-morrow, saw Captain Ross about the Bear, and various other people; but there is not much to be obtained here about old sites and specimens. Telegraphed Institution, and also to the Russian consul at Montreal for permission to visit the Great Diomede Island. Evening packing. Natives bring walrus ivory, some excellent pieces. Weather whole day cloudy, threatening, occasional showers, cool but not cold.

Sunday, July 18. Heavy sleep 10 p. m. to 7 a. m., regardless of a typewriter going in the next room and the women (now quieter, however) on the other side.

Forenoon spent in talking with people and attending a little service, for the natives mainly, at the Catholic Church of Fathers Post and Lafortune. Poor, simple, but sincere and interesting.

After lunch more consultations, then a visit to bank where they smelt gold dust (even to-day), and then a lecture on "The Peopling of America," at the courthouse. Well attended, and many came to shake hands after. Then a dinner, with examination of a number of interesting and valuable specimens, at Judge Lomen's. Among other objects there is a duplicate, in ivory, of the broken double ax from the Yukon, the two grooves and even the break being well represented. Evening—examination of specimens at Reverend Baldwin's. Cloudy, cool, threatening, but stormy weather abating.