Читать книгу Along Alaska's Great River - Frederick Schwatka - Страница 9

METHODS OF TRACKING A CANOE UP A RAPID.

During the still, quiet evening we could hear many grouse hooting in the spruce woods of the hillsides, this time of day seeming to be their favorite hour for concerts. The weather on this, the first day of our trip, was splendid, with a light southern wind that went down with the sun and gave us a few mist-like sprinkles of rain, serving to cool the air and make slumber after our fatigue doubly agreeable. The head of canoe navigation on the Dayay river, where it terminates abruptly in a huge boiling cascade, is ten miles from the mouth of the stream, although fully fifteen are traveled by the canoemen in ascending its tortuous course, which is accomplished by the usual Indian method of "tracking," with ropes and poles from the bank of the river. I observed that they "tracked" their canoes against the current in two ways, each method requiring two men to one canoe. The diagrams given will show these methods; in No. 1, an Indian pulls the canoe with a rope, while a companion just in his rear and following in his steps keeps the head of the canoe in the stream, with a long pole, at just such distance as he may desire according to the obstacles that are presented. If the water from the bank for some distance out, say twelve or fifteen feet, is clear of all obstacles, his companion will fall to the rear as far as his pole will allow and assist the ropeman by pushing up stream, but in shallow, swift places he has all he can do to regulate the canoe's course through the projecting stones, and the burden of the draft falls on the ropeman. In the other mode both the men use poles and all the motive power is furnished by pushing. The advantage over the first is that in "boiling" water full of stones, the bowman may steer his end clear of all of these, only to have the seething waters throw the stern against a sharp corner of a rock and tear a hole in that part, an accident which can only be avoided by placing a pole-man at the stern. It is readily apparent, however, that there is much more power expended in this method of making headway against the current than in the other. Some few of the Indians judiciously vary the two methods to suit the circumstances. On long stretches of only moderately swift water the tired trackers would take turns in resting in the canoe, using a paddle to hold the bow out from the shore. The current of the Dayay is very swift, and two days' "tracking" is often required to traverse the navigable part of the stream. Every few hundred yards or so the river needs to be crossed, wherever the timber on the banks is dense, or where the circuitous river cuts deep into the high hillsides that form the boundaries of its narrow valley. In these crossings from fifty to a hundred yards would often be lost. The Indians seemed to make no effort whatever to stem the swift current in crossing, but pointed the canoe straight across for the other bank and paddled away as if dear life depended on the result.

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CANOEING UP THE DAYAY.

The march of the 8th to Camp 3, brought us within a half mile or a mile of the head of canoe navigation on the river, and here the Indians desired to camp, as at that particular spot there is no dry wood with which to cook their meals; although all they had to cook was the little flour that I had issued, the salmon being dried and eaten without further preparation. The Dayay Valley is well wooded in its bottom with poplar and several varieties of willow, and where these small forests did not exist were endless ridges of sand, gravel and even huge bowlders cutting across each other at all angles, evidently the work of water, assisted at times by the more powerful agency of moving or stranded ice. All day we had been crossing bear tracks of different ages, and after camping some of the white men paddled across the river (here thirty-five or forty yards wide) to take a stroll up the valley; and while returning a large black bear was seen perched on a conspicuous granite ridge of the western mountain wall, probably four hundred yards away and at an angle of twenty degrees above our position in the river bottom. A member of the party got two shots at him, but he disappeared in the dense underbrush, evidently afraid that the sportsman might aim at something else and so hit him. Dr. Wilson and Mr. Homan fished with bait and flies for a long distance up and down the different channels of the river, but could not get a single "rise" or "bite," although the Indians catch mountain trout in their peculiar fish-weirs, having offered us that very day a number thus captured. Like all streams rising in glacier bearing lands of calcareous structure, its waters are very white and chalky, which may account for the apparent reluctance of the fish to rise to a fly. The pretty waterfalls on the sides of the mountains still continued and the glaciers of the summits became more numerous and strongly marked, and descended nearer to the bed of the stream.

I could not but observe the peculiar manifestations of surprise characteristic of the Chilkats. Whenever one uttered a shout over some trifle, such as a comrade's slipping on a slimy stone into the water, or tumbling over the root of a log, or any mishap, comical or otherwise, every one within hearing, from two to two hundred, would immediately chime in, and such a cry would ensue as to strike us with astonishment. This may be repeated several times in a minute, and the abruptness with which it would begin and end, so that not a single distinct voice can be heard at either beginning or ending, reminds one somewhat of a gang of coyotes howling around a frontier camp or the bayings of Indian dogs on moonlight serenades, from which one would be strongly tempted to believe they had borrowed it. Withal they are a most happy, merry-hearted and jovial race, laughing hilariously at every thing with the least shadow of comicality about it, and "guying" every trifling mishap of a companion in which the sufferer is expected to join, just as the man who chases his hat in a muddy street on a windy day must laugh with the crowd. Such characteristics of good nature are generally supposed to be accompanied by a generous disposition, especially as toward men of the same blood, but I was compelled to notice an almost cruel piece of selfishness which they exhibited in one point, and which told strongly against any such theory as applied to Indians, or at least this particular band of them. When we got to the mouth of the Dayay river, many of the packers had no canoes in which to track their bundles or packs to the head of canoe navigation, and their companions who owned such craft flatly and decisively refused to take their packs, although, as far as I could see, it would have caused them no inconvenience whatever. In many cases this selfishness was the effect of caste, to which I have already alluded and which with them is carried to an extreme hardly equaled in the social distinctions of any other savage people. Nor was this the only conspicuous instance of selfishness displayed. As I have already said, the Dayay is very tortuous, wide and swift, and therefore has very few fords, and these at inconvenient intervals for travelers carrying a hundred pounds apiece on their backs, yet the slight service of ferrying the packers and their packs across the stream was refused by the canoemen as rigidly as the other favor, and where the river cut deep into some high projecting bank of the mountain flanks, these unfortunate packers would be forced to carry burdens up over some precipitous mountain spur, or at least to make a long detour in search of available fords. My readers can rest assured that I congratulated myself on having taken along a spare packer in the event of sickness among my numerous throng, for even in such a case I found them as disobliging and unaccommodating as before, utterly refusing to touch a sick man's load until he had promised them the lion's share of his wages and I had ratified the contract.

Every afternoon or evening after getting into camp, no matter how fatiguing the march had been, as soon as their simple meal was cooked and consumed, they would gather here and there in little parties for the purpose of gambling, and oftentimes their orgies would run far into the small hours of the night. The gambling game which they called la-hell was the favorite during the trip over the Chilkoot trail, although I understand that they have others not so complicated. This game requires an even number of players, generally from four to twelve, divided into two parties which face each other. These "teams" continue sitting about two or three feet apart, with their legs drawn up under them, à la Turque, the place selected being usually in sandy ground under the shade of a grove of poplar or willow trees. Each man lays a wager with the person directly opposite him, with whom alone he gambles as far as the gain or loss of his stake is concerned, although such loss or gain is determined by the success of the team as a whole. In other words, when a game terminates one team of course is the winner, but each player wins only the stake put up by his vis-à-vis. A handful of willow sticks, three or four inches long, and from a dozen to a score in number, are thrust in the sand or soft earth, between the two rows of squatting gamblers, and by means of these a sort of running record or tally of the game is kept. The implements actually employed in gambling are merely a couple of small bone-bobbins, as shown on page 227, of about the size of a lady's pen-knife, one of which has one or more bands of black cut around it near its center and is called the king, the other being pure white. At the commencement of the game, one of the players picks up the bone-bobbins, changes them rapidly from one hand to the other, sometimes behind his back, then again under an apron or hat resting on his lap, during all of which time the whole assembly are singing in a low measured melody the words, "Oh! oh! oh! Oh, ker-shoo, ker-shoo!—" which is kept up with their elbows flapping against their sides and their heads swaying to the tune, until some player of the opposite row, thinking he is inspired, and singing with unusual vehemence, suddenly points out the hand of the juggler that, in his belief, contains "the king." If his guess is correct, his team picks up one of the willow sticks and places it on their side, or, if the juggler's team has gained, any one of their sticks must be replaced in the reserve at the center. If he is wrong then, the other side tallies one in the same way. The bone "king and queen" are then handed to an Indian in the other row, and the same performance repeated, although it may be twice as long, or half as short, as no native attempts to discern the whereabouts of the "king" until he feels he has a revelation to that effect, produced by the incantation. A game will last any where from half an hour to three hours. Whenever the game is nearly concluded and one party has gained almost all the willow sticks, or at any other exciting point of the game, they have methods of "doubling up" on the wagers, by not exchanging the bobbins but holding both in one hand or leaving one or both on the ground under a hat or apron, and the guesses are about both and count double, treble or quadruple, for loss or gain. They wager the caps off their heads, their shirts off their backs, and with many of them no doubt, their prospective pay for the trip was all gone before it was half earned. Men and boys alike entered the contest, and from half a dozen places at once, in the woods near by, could be heard the everlasting refrain, the never-ceasing chant of "Oh! oh! oh! Oh! ker-shoo, ker-shoo!" They used also to improvise hats of birch bark (wherever that tree grew near the evening camp) with pictures upon them that would prohibit their passing through the mails. These habits do not indicate any great moral improvement thus far produced by contact with civilization.

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DAYAY VALLEY, LOOKING UP THE NOURSE RIVER VALLEY.

A glimpse of Baird Glacier covered with fog is given. The mountains holding the glacier being twice as high as the one shown on the left, their crests, if they had been visible, would not have been shown in the photograph from which this illustration is made, being above the line where it is cut off. It is only at night that the fog-banks lift, when it is too late to take photographs.

Two miles and a half beyond the head of canoe navigation, the Kut-lah-cook-ah River of the Chilkats comes in from the west. This is really larger in volume and width than the Dayay, the two averaging respectively fifty and forty yards in width by estimation. I shortened its name, and called it after Professor Nourse of the United States Naval Observatory. Large glaciers feed its sources by numerous waterfalls, and its cañon-like bed is very picturesque. Like all such streams its waters were conspicuously white and milk-like, and the most diligent fisherman was unrewarded. At the head of the Nourse River the Indians say there is a very large lake. The mountains that bound its course on the west are capped by an immense glacier, which might be traced along their summits for probably ten or twelve miles, and was then lost in the lowering clouds of their icy crests. These light fogs are frequent on warm days, when the difference of temperature at the upper and lower levels is more marked, but they disappear at night as the temperatures approach each other. This glacier, a glimpse of which is given on page 73, was named after Professor Baird, of the Smithsonian Institute at Washington. The march of the 9th of June took us three miles and a half up the Dayay River, and while resting, about noon, I was astonished to hear the Indians declare this was their expected camp for the night, for we had really accomplished so little. I was much inclined to anticipate that the rest of the journey was not much worse, and would give a forcible example of the maxim that "dangers disappear as they are approached." The rough manner in which my illusions were dispelled will appear further on. Another inducement to stop at this particular point was found in a small grove of spruce saplings just across the river, which was so dense that each tree trunk tapered as regularly as if it had been turned from a lathe. These they desired for salmon-spears, cutting them on their way over the trail, and collecting them as they returned, so as to give the poles a few days to season, thus rendering them lighter for the dextrous work required. These peculiar kinds of fish-spears are so common over all the districts of Arctic and sub-Arctic America that I think them worthy of description. The pole is from eight to twelve feet in length, extending from P to P, as shown in the figure on this page. Two arms A A are made of elastic wood, and at their ends they carry incurved spikes of iron or steel, S S, which act as barbs on a fish-hook. Another sharpened spike projects from the tip of the pole P, and the three together make the prongs of the spear or gig. When the fish is speared the arms A A bend out as the spikes "ride" over its back, and these insert themselves in its sides, the pole spike penetrating its back. In the figure there is represented the cross-section of a fish (its dorsal-fin D) just before the spear strikes. Among the Eskimo of King William's Land I found the spear-handles made of driftwood thrown on the beach, the arms A A made of very elastic musk-ox horn, and the spikes of copper taken from the abandoned ships of Sir John Franklin's ill-fated expedition. Again at this camp (No. 4), the fishing-tackle of various kinds was employed vigilantly, but although the water seemed much clearer there were no results, the doctor advancing the theory that trout will not rise to a fly in streams where salmon are spawning, as they then live on the salmon roe to the exclusion of every thing else.

A VIEW IN THE DAYAY VALLEY. (FROM

CAMP 4.)

A finger of the Saussure Glacier is seen peeping round the mountain, the rest being covered with fog.

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At this camp I saw the Chilkat boy packers wrestling in a very singular manner, different from any thing in that branch of athletics with which I am acquainted. The two wrestlers lie flat on their backs upon the ground or sand and against each other, but head to foot, or in opposite directions. Their inner legs, i.e., those touching their opponents, are raised high in the air, carried past each other, and then locked together at the knee. They then rise to a sitting posture, or as nearly as possible, and with their nearest arms locked into a firm hold at the elbows, the contest commences. It evidently requires no mean amount of strength to get on top of an equal adversary, and the game seems to demand considerable agility, although the efforts of the contestants, as they rolled around like two angle worms tied together, appeared more awkward than graceful.

POSITION OF THE FEET IN WALKING A LOG, AS PRACTICED BY THE CHILKAT INDIANS.

Northward from this camp (No. 4), lying between the Nourse and Dayay Rivers, was the southern terminal spur of a large glacier, whose upper end was lost in the cold drifting fog that clung to it, and which can be seen on page 77. I called it the Saussure Glacier, after Professor Henri de Saussure, of Geneva, Switzerland. The travels in the Dayay Inlet and up the valley of the river had been reasonably pleasant, but on the 10th of June our course lay over the rough mountain spurs of the east side for ten or twelve miles, upon a trail fully equal to forty or fifty miles over a good road for a day's walking. Short as the march was in actual measurement, it consumed from 7:30 in the morning until 7:15 in the evening; nearly half the time, however, being occupied in resting from the extreme fatigue of the journey. In fact, in many places it was a terrible scramble up and down hill, over huge trunks and bristling limbs of fallen timber too far apart to leap from one to the other, while between was a boggy swamp that did not increase the pleasure of carrying a hundred pounds on one's back. Sometimes we would sink in almost to our knees, while every now and then this agony was supplemented by the recurrences of long high ridges of rough bowlders of trachyte with a splintery fracture. The latter felt like hot iron under the wet moccasins after walking on them and jumping from one to the other for awhile. Some of these great ridges of bowlders on the steep hillsides must have been of quite recent origin, and from the size of the big rocks, often ten or twelve feet in diameter, I infer that the force employed must have been enormous, and I could only account for it on the theory that ice had been an important agent in the result. So recent were some of the ridges that trees thirty and forty feet high were embedded in the débris, and where they were not cut off and crushed by the action of the rocks they were growing as if nothing had happened, although half the length of their trunks in some cases was below the tops of the ridges. I hardly thought that any of the trees could be over forty or fifty years old. Where these ridges of great bowlders were very wide one would be obliged to follow close behind some Indian packer acquainted with the trail, which might easily be lost before re-entering the brush.

That day I noticed that all my Indians, in crossing logs over a stream, always turned the toes of both feet in the same direction (to the right), although they kept the body square to the front, or nearly so, and each foot passed the other at every step, as in ordinary walking. The advantage to be gained was not obvious to the author; as the novice, in attempting it, feels much more unsafe than in walking over the log as usual. Nearing Camp 5, we passed over two or three hundred yards of snow from three to fifteen feet deep. This day's march of the 10th of June brought us to the head of the Dayay river at a place the Indians call the "stone-houses." These stone-houses, however, are only a loose mass of huge bowlders piled over each other, projecting high above the deep snow, and into the cave-like crevices the natives crawl for protection whenever the snow has buried all other tracts, or the cold wind from the glaciers is too severe to permit of sleep in the open. All around us was snow or the clear blue ice of the glacier fronts, while directly northward, and seemingly impassable, there loomed up for nearly four thousand feet the precipitous pass through the mountains, a blank mass of steep white, which we were to essay on the morrow.

CHASING A MOUNTAIN GOAT IN THE PERRIER PASS.

Shortly after camping I was told that the Indians had seen a mountain goat nearly on the summit of the western mountain wall, and I was able to make out his presence with the aid of field-glasses. The Indians had detected him with their unaided eyes, in spite of his white coat being against a background of snow. Had the goat been on the summit of a mountain in the moon I should not have regarded him as any safer than where he was, if the Indians were even half as fatigued as I felt, and they had carried a hundred pounds over the trail and I had not. But the identity of the goat was not fully established before an Indian, the only one who carried a gun, an old flintlock, smooth bore, Hudson Bay musket, made preparations for the chase. He ran across the valley and soon commenced the ascent of the mountains, in a little while almost disappearing on the white sides, looking like a fly crawling over the front of a house. The Indian, a "Stick," finally could be seen above the mountain goat and would have secured him, but that a little black cur dog which had started to follow him when he was almost at the summit, made its appearance on the scene just in time to frighten the animal and started him running down the mountain side toward the pass, the "Stick" closely following in pursuit, assisted by the dog. Just as every one expected to see the goat disappear through the pass, he wheeled directly around and started straight for the camp, producing great excitement. Every one grabbed the first gun he could get his hands on and waited for the animal's approach. A shot from camp sent him flying up the eastern mountains, which were higher than those of the west, closely followed almost to the summit by the indefatigable "Stick," who finally lost him. I thought it showed excellent endurance for the mountain goat, but the Indian's pluck was beyond all praise, and as he returned with a jovial shake of the head, as if he met such disappointments every day, I felt sure that I would not have undertaken his hunt for all the goat meat in the country, even with starvation at hand.

On the morning of the next day about five o'clock, we commenced the toilsome ascent of this coast range pass, called by the Indians Kotusk Mountains, and by seven o'clock all my long pack train was strung up the precipitous pass, making one of the prettiest Alpine sights that I have ever witnessed, and as seen from a distance strangely resembling a row of bowlders projecting from the snow. Up banks almost perpendicular they scrambled on their hands and knees, helping themselves by every projecting rock and clump of juniper and dwarf spruce, not even refusing to use their teeth on them at the worst places. Along the steep snow banks and the icy fronts of glaciers steps were cut with knives, while rough alpenstocks from the valley helped them to maintain their footing. In some such places the incline was so steep that those having boxes on their backs cut scratches in the icy crust with the corners as they passed along, and oftentimes it was possible to steady one's self by the open palm of the hand resting against the snow. In some of these places a single mis-step, or the caving in of a foot-hold would have sent the unfortunate traveler many hundred feet headlong to certain destruction. Yet not the slightest accident happened, and about ten o'clock, almost exhausted, we stood on the top of the pass, enveloped in a cold drifting fog, 4,240 feet above the level of the sea (a small portion of the party having found a lower crossing at 4,100 feet above sea-level). How these small Indians, not apparently averaging over one hundred and forty pounds in weight, could carry one hundred pounds up such a precipitous mountain of ice and snow, seems marvelous beyond measure. One man carried one hundred and thirty-seven pounds, while boys from twelve to fourteen carried from fifty to seventy pounds. I called this the Perrier Pass after Colonel J. Perrier of the French Geographical Society.

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ASCENDING THE PERRIER PASS.

CHILKAT HUNTING AND PACKING SNOW-SHOES.

The usual thongs are used to fasten them to the feet, but are not shown in the illustration.

Once on top of the Pass the trail leads northward and the descent is very rapid for a few hundred yards to a lake of about a hundred acres in extent, which was yet frozen over and the ice covered with snow, although drainage from the slopes had made the snow very slushy. Over the level tracks of snow many of the Indians wore their snow-shoes, which in the ascent and steep descent had been lashed to their packs. These Indians have two kinds of snow-shoes, a very broad pair used while packing, as with my party, and a narrower and neater kind employed while hunting. The two kinds are figured below. This small lake, abruptly walled in, greatly resembled an extinct crater, and such it may well have been. From this resemblance it received its name of Crater Lake, a view of which figures as the frontispiece. Here there was no timber, not even brush, to be seen; while the gullies of the granite hills, and the valleys deeply covered with snow, gave the whole scene a decidedly Arctic appearance. I noticed that my Indian packers, in following a trail on snow, whether it was up hill, on a level, or even a slight descent, always stepped in each other's tracks, and hence our large party made a trail that at first glance looked as if only five or six had passed over; but when going down a steep descent, especially on soft snow, each one made his own trail, and they scattered out over many yards in width. I could not but be impressed with the idea that this was worth considering should it ever be necessary to estimate their numbers. From the little crater-like lake at the very head of the Yukon, the trail leads through a valley that converges to a gorge; and while crossing the snow in this ravine we could hear the running water gurgling under the snow bridge on which we were walking. Further down the little valley, as it opened at a point where these snow-arches were too wide to support their weight, they had tumbled into the stream, showing in many places abutments of deep perpendicular snow-banks often twenty to twenty-five feet in height. Where the river banks were of stone and perpendicular the packers were forced to pass over the projecting abutments of snow, undermined by the swift stream. It was hazardous for many to attempt the passage over the frail structure at the same time. Passing by a few small picturesque lakes on our left, some still containing floating cakes of ice, we caught sight of the main lake in the afternoon, and in a few hours were upon its banks at a point where a beautiful mountain stream came tumbling in, with enough swift water to necessitate crossing on a log. Near the Crater Lake a curlew and a swallow were seen, and a small black bear cub was the only other living thing visible, although mountain goats were abundant a short distance back in the high hills. We had gotten into camp quite late in the evening and here the contracts with our Indian packers expired.

Imagine my surprise, after a fatiguing march of thirteen miles that had required fourteen hours to accomplish, and was fully equal to forty or fifty on any good road, at having the majority of my packers, men and boys, demand payment at once with the view of an immediate return. Some of them assured me they would make the mouth of the Dayay before stopping, and would then only stay for a short rest. It should be remembered that we were so far north and the sun so near his northern solstice that it was light enough even at midnight, for traveling purposes, especially on the white snow of the worst portion of the journey, Perrier Pass. I had no reason to doubt their assurances, and afterward learned that one of them went through to the mission without stopping, in spite of a furious gale which was raging on the Dayay and Chilkoot Inlets.