Showing posts with label Alaska. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alaska. Show all posts

Thursday, April 3, 2008

Thousands Seek News of New Gold Strike

1920

Rich Ore Is Reported Found Near Alaskan Border

KETCHIKAN, Alaska, Jan. 1. — Thousands of persons in the United States and Canada, and even England have been sent here for reports regarding a supposed fabulous gold strike just across the Canadian line south of here, near Hyder, a town on the American side of the international boundary.

Hyder residents expect a "rush" next spring, according to word brought here.

Reports from Hyder rather discourage the coming of men who have not adequate financial backing. Prospectors described the place as "not a poor man's camp" and "not a second Klondike."

A body of what is reported to be extremely rich ore has been discovered.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

A Faithful Dog

1900

How He Saved The Lives Of Some Prospectors

Deeds of heroism have been enacted in Alaska which history will never chronicle. Truth prints a story of one party of prospectors who owe their lives to a dog.

Upon the desolate waste of that inhospitably glazier, the Valdes, which has proved a sepulchre to so many bright hopes and earnest aspirations, last winter a party of prospectors were camped. Day after day they had worked their way forward, death disputing every foot with them, until it was decided that the main party should remain in camp and two of their number accompanied only by a dog should endeavor to find a trail which would lead away from the glazier.

For days the two men wandered, until nature succumbed and they lay down, weary and exhausted. Their faithful companion clung to them and the warmth of his body was grateful as they crouched low with the bitter ice ladened wind howling about them.

Their scanty stock of provisions was well nigh exhausted, when one of them suggested sending the dog back to camp. This was a forlorn hope, but their only one. Quickly writing a few words on a leaf torn from a book they made it fast around the dog's neck and encouraged him to start back on the trail.

The sagacious animal did not appear to understand but after repeated efforts they persuaded him to start and he was soon swallowed up in the snow, the mist and the storm.

Two days and nights passed, during which the men suffered untold agonies. On the evening of the third day when all hope had gone and they were becoming resigned to their fate out of the blinding and drifting snow bounded the dog, and close behind him came ready hands to minister to their wants.

The remainder of the story is simple. The whole party returned having abandoned their useless quest and on the last Topeka going south were two grateful men and a very ordinary looking dog. "That dog will never want as long as we two live," said a grizzled and sunburnt man.

—The Hartford Republican, Hartford, KY, Jan. 19, 1900, p. 1.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

What Alaska Indians Smoke

1910

"How would you enjoy a pipeful of wood shavings saturated with a strong solution of pepper as an after-dinner smoke?" asked William F. Quinn of Portland, Ore.

"Strange as this may seem as a substitute for tobacco, it is nevertheless used as such by Indians along the Alaska coast. Their mouths are often made raw by the practice, and the eyesight of many is affected by the strong fumes. It is no uncommon practice among farmers to smoke the leaves of the tomato and potato plants. While both these plants contain a narcotic poison, the smoking of leaves in moderation is harmless. Excessive use, though, produces a heavy stupor, from which the smoker awakes with a terrific headache and a feeling of utter exhaustion. Insanity and suicide have often been caused by the immoderate use of these two weeds. Rhubarb, beet, and even garden sage leaves are all smoked by farmers, but are perhaps the least harmful of substitutes for tobacco."

Wednesday, July 4, 2007

Eskimo Bill of Fare

1905

Salmon the "Staff of Life" of the People in Far North

You are indebted to recently returned explorers from Eskimo land north of Kotzebue Sound, Alaska, for information in this article.

A whole winter spent near the villages of these curious people afforded an intimacy in regard to their regular bill of fare which in some respects is new to us. It is hardly consistent with the truth, however, to mention "table fare" in this connection, since tables there are none. Each person eats from his hands, nor are finger bowls to be mentioned, for use either before or after meals. There are circumstances incident to meal time in an Eskimo igloo which, to a refined stranger, are surprising. The process of mastication is carried on with faithful observance to gastric demands, and in utter oblivion to the presence of others than the performer. The teeth of the men and children are good, while those of the women are notably poor. This last is on account of the constant chewing of skins and sinew which is necessary for the proper softness of clothing. "The chewing mill" must operate all day long, and all the long years of an Eskimo woman's life.

Salmon is the staff of life to the Eskimo. In the absence of cereals of any sort, it is corn and wheat. During the three or four months of summer time the fish are caught in nets and harvested. Long lines of rawhide are stretched between trees or poles, upon which the fish are hung to cure. When dried, this harvest is placed on a high scaffold by the side of the igloo, or native house, out of reach of dogs and other animals. This scaffold, always to be seen with its accompanying igloo, is the cellar, pantry, kitchen cupboard and preserve closet of the family. It is also the refrigerator. Perfectly cured salmon is not a food to be despised by anyone. The natives strip off a piece, as salted codfish is stripped by any Yankee, and hold it over the lamp or fire. When the skin begins to crack and writhe, the fish is "done." This heating liberates the oil and improves the taste. It is then bitten off in small pieces and chewed for a long time.

When Food Supply Is Short

The Eskimo are sometimes neglectful in harvest, and their supply of food runs short. They then resort to decayed fish, which has died on the river banks after spawning in the fall. During the winter they go to these wholesale slaughter houses and sled the provisions back to their igloos. This food, eaten often with rancid seal oil, so infests with its offensive odors the persons and houses and vicinities of these people that association with them at this season is almost impossible.

Little cooking is ever done, much of the flesh of beast or bird being taken raw. When on a journey up or down the water's edge, it is no great trouble to row ashore, draw the kayak up on the beach, invert it for a roof, and under its cover prepare dinner or supper.

One of the white men whom I know spent a night in a native igloo and was waited upon by the "lady of the house" in true hospitable fashion. After the dried salmon had been divided and handed around among a half dozen Eskimo and the one white man stranger, this "lady of the house" dropped down on her knees, crawled through the low, long entrance to the igloo, and returned with a birch-bark basket. Glancing at the stranger with an assurance that "the best on the scaffold was at his pleasure," she proceeded to break in pieces the contents of the basket. It was frozen huckleberries in chunks, for even seal oil cannot resist a temperature of 70 below. She reached into a corner and brought out a true white man's frying pan, which she put over the fire and into it dropped the chunks of preserves. As it melted, she stirred the mass with her fingers, now and then putting them, dripping with the purple oily juice, into her month, and sucking them with a peculiar sound of satisfaction, again passing looks of assurance to the stranger for whom she was taking all this trouble. When the mass was melted she poured it into a dirty can and passed it to her guest. Not one of the family was offered so much as a mouthful. It was a "company dainty."

Every sort of bird is trapped or shot by the native Eskimo. Little birds, like the chickadees and red poles, are given to the grandparents of the family. Whether this is on account of superstition, or the idea that these little things are really the proper diet of old age, no one knows. It may be simple courtesy. The main supply of bird food is obtained from the flocks of ptarmigan, a bird closely allied to the prairie chicken of the Western states. These birds do not fly, but walk long distances. They may be easily tracked after a light snow. They subsist, during the winter, on willow buds along the ravines and watercourses. The natives lay snares for them in the same way in which they catch the fish under the ice.

Snaring the Ptarmigan

Branches are woven together and laid along the margin of a willow thicket, here and there being left an opening about which a noose is placed. The ptarmigan have a method of pushing their way through any obstruction, and so, when they come to these little openings apparently among the willows, they push, and are caught in the nooses. One reason why these birds do not fly is from the fact that they are so gorged by their food that they are too heavy. They eat as many as they can hold of the willow buds, which expand in the crop to immense dimensions, giving an almost deformed appearance to the bird. Only the tiny center of the bud is edible, the husks being of no service, and so large quantities must be taken to make a square meal. These soften by reason of the snow taken with them melting in the crop of the bird.

Another bird which the native Eskimo eats is the spruce grouse. It subsists upon the spruce buds and the flesh is highly flavored with this, to the white man, objectionable feature. During the winter prospectors drink freely of spruce tea, believing it to be preventive of scurvy, though they could be induced to partake of spruce grouse only with difficulty, it may be that the bird does possess some remediable agency to the natives. Hawks and owls are eaten with the rest of the birds. One exception, however, exists in favor of the Alaskan jay, which may not be so much as touched by the natives. These birds are never hunted, and are so fearless that they would come in at the door of the white man's cabin, and help themselves to anything in the line of cheese or pie or cake. One daring and curious fellow went so far as to snatch a piece of laundry soap and carry it away to his home in the pines. Whether this was for common family use or for food no one knew; probably the latter, since the native Eskimo are said to eat soap when they can obtain it. Little marvel when they are so fond of decayed fish and rancid seal oil.

Birds that are caught are simply stripped of their feathers before being eaten, unless the skin is needed for wearing apparel, when it is stripped off and hung away to dry before being chewed by the women tanners.

The greatest delicacy of any bird is the eye. This is always given to the babies or little children of the family. It is plucked out and eaten at once with great relish, while the older members look on with pleasure, very much as civilized parents look on when their children partake of gumdrops or gooseberries.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Melting of Winter Snows in Alaska

1899

Daily Freshets

To most people who live in the temperate zones, the annual freshets occasioned by the melting of the winter snows and by the unusually heavy rains of spring are a matter of familiar observation. Under a higher latitude and in the neighborhood of glaciers, other phenomena are to be studied.

An English traveller in Alaska has the following to report about the rivers of that country:

The Takheena, like most streams of glacial origin, was subject to a daily rise and fall. The distance of its sources caused the water to increase in volume and in swiftness from noon to midnight, after which it continued to decrease from midnight to noon.

The daily rise measured from six to ten inches, according to the heat of the weather; the daily fall measured from five to eight inches during the time the fine weather lasted.

After a few days of cloudy, rainy weather, I found the river falling from day to day about as fast as it had risen during the fine weather.

It is worthy of remark that during fine weather I invariably found the wind during the daytime in the Chilcat valley blowing up from the sea. It began in the forenoon with a gentle breeze, which gradually increased to a smart gale, that died quite away by sunset. During the night there was either no wind, or else it blew in the contrary direction. This regular movement of the atmosphere no doubt has much to do with producing the regular daily rise and fall of the river. — Youth's Companion.

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Pity the Gold Miner!

1920

One might imagine that if he could discover a gold mine he would have a fortune. But time has brought changes. Among them has come a depreciation in the purchasing value of gold, due largely to the cheap American dollar and to the large flow of gold from abroad during the war.

When prospectors first rushed to Alaska, says the Cleveland Plain Dealer, little trouble or expense was entailed in procuring the yellow metal. Nuggets could be found on or near the surface, and the dust was easily washed out of sand taken from the beds of mountain streams. Now expensive machinery must be employed and "pay dirt" is usually found only after much labor. The results are indicated by the unprofitable business reported by one Alaska gold mining company for 1919.

During the year it cost this company $1,744,869 to produce $1,467,389 worth of gold, leaving a deficit of $277,480, as against a loss from operations the previous year of $96,945.

Those who find cause to complain because of their hard lot since the war, would do well to consider the unfortunate position of the gold miners. They comprise one group which cannot profiteer.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, March 20, 1920, p. 6.

Sunday, May 20, 2007

What Alaskan Indians Smoke

1910

Seattle, Wash. — How would you enjoy a pipeful of wood shavings saturated with a strong solution of pepper as an after dinner smoke? This is the strange substitute used for tobacco by Indians along the Alaska coast. Their mouths are often made raw by the practice, and the eyesight of many is affected by the strong fumes.

It is no uncommon practice among farmers to smoke the leaves of the tomato and potato plants. While both these plants contain a narcotic poison, the smoking of leaves in moderation is harmless. Excessive use, though, produces a heavy stupor, from which the smoker awakes with a terrific headache and a feeling of utter exhaustion. Insanity and suicide have often been caused by the immoderate use of these two weeds. Rhubarb, beet and even garden sage leaves are all smoked by farmers, and are perhaps the least harmful of substitutes for tobacco.


Turtle Asphyxiates Chicks

South Norwalk, Conn. — Funeral services for 100 chickens and three pigs were conducted behind the barn of Herman Jacobs and a snapping turtle that endeavored to qualify as a gas meter inspector is being fattened for slaughter as the result.

Jacobs caught the turtle some time ago and tied it to a stake in the back yard. The turtle broke loose and made for the gas meter in the barn. In his investigations he bit off the gas pipe close to the meter and the chickens and pigs were asphyxiated. Two farmhands who endeavored to rescue the unfortunates were made ill by the fumes.

Sunday, April 29, 2007

The Scenic Beauty of Alaska, Mt. McKinley

1916

A Grand Panorama That Reaches Its Climax In Mount McKinley.

A careful reading of literature pertaining to Alaska prepared me in part for what the journey was bound to disclose, but seeing is the only sense that can give knowledge and secure appreciation of the grandeur, the sublimity, the fascinating beauty of mountain, sea, stream, fiord, falls, islands, forests, cloud and the glorious color effects which the dazzling rays of the sun bring into existence. In connection with all these is a land of enchantment for all who love and can appreciate nature.

Cook Inlet, with its arms and reaches, has many bewildering channels, resulting from the numerous rugged islands. The forbidding and embattled shores rising into lofty mountains and at present swathed in white almost to the water's edge possess a virility, a grandeur and sublimity which require the most poetic imagination and most facile pen even faintly to portray. The grand panorama reaches its climax in Mount McKinley, monarch of the North American continent. With its altitude of 20,400 feet it stands alone in lofty pride and is distinctly visible from the vessel notwithstanding the very great distance. This fact well establishes the quality of the clarified and invigorating atmosphere of this far north country.

The Thousand Islands with all their beauty would scarcely serve as a prelude to the surpassing grandeur and loveliness of the many thousand islands that adorn the 3,000 miles of Alaskan coast. The fiords of Norway, the farfamed glaciers of Switzerland, cannot compare with their counterparts to be found in Alaska in number, variety, size, color effect and all the qualities that give charm to these works of nature. — Hon. A. Barton Hepburn in Leslie's.

Saturday, April 28, 2007

Mushing With Dogs in Alaska, Carrying Great LoadsMushing With Dogs in Alaska, Carrying Great Loads

1914

DOGS IN ALASKA.

Carry Great Loads Over Snow That Would Not Hold a Man.

Dogs are surely the real thing for "mushing" in the cold country. To my mind they beat reindeer a mile. Most of them weigh less than 100 pounds, and they distribute their weight over their four feet. So that they can trot over a weak snow crust where a man would sink out of sight by breaking through the crust into the soft snow below. On a good, level, smooth trail ten dogs can trot along with a ton of freight behind them, and 500 or 600 pounds is a fair load on poor trails.

A peculiar thing is that a twelve foot sled, twenty-two to twenty-four inches wide, with runners two and one-quarter inches wide, bearing a load of 600 to 800 pounds, will not sink through a snow crust that will not bear a man. This occurs because two runners two and one-quarter inches wide and twelve feet long give a large area of bearing on the crust. This, coupled with the motion that keeps the sled passing over all the time, accounts for the remarkable fact I am speaking of.

One of the greatest dangers in "mushing" is encountering water under the snow on the river ice in very cold weather or breaking through into hollow places where the stream has sunk away from under the ice. This is the most dangerous of all and often when it happens a man is frozen to death before he can get to shelter or get up his tent and start a fire. — B. S. Rodey in Albuquerque Herald.

Thursday, April 19, 2007

Those Ravenous Eskimos

1916

They Eat and Digest Food That Would Kill an Ordinary Man

We bear much of American dyspepsia, but there is one native race of America that is certainly not troubled in this respect. The Eskimo defies all the laws of hygiene and thrives. He eats until he is satisfied, but is said never to be satisfied while a shred of his feast remains unconsumed. His capacity is limited by the supply and by that only.

The Eskimo cannot make any mistake about the manner of cooking his food, since, as a rule, he does not cook it. Nor, so far as the blubber or fat of the arctic annual is concerned, is the Eskimo concerned about his manner of eating it. Indeed, he may be said not to eat it at all. He cuts it into long strips an inch wide and an inch thick and then lowers the strip down his throat as one might lower a rope into a well.

Despite all this the Eskimo does not suffer from indigestion. He can make a good meal off the flesh and skin of the walrus, provision so hard and gritty that in cutting up the animal the knife must be continually sharpened. The teeth of a little Eskimo child will, it is said by those in a position to know, meet in a bit of walrus skin as the teeth of an American child would meet in the flesh of an apple, although the hide of the walrus is from a half an inch to an inch in thickness and bears considerable resemblance to the hide of an elephant. The Eskimo child will bite it and digest it and never know what dyspepsia means. — Harper's Weekly.

—Stevens Point Daily Journal, Stevens Point, Wisconsin, July 29, 1916, page 3.

Comment: I don't know, do you suppose this article is true? The part about lowering the meat down their throat like lowering a rope down a well. After all, if the children have such good biting abilities, they're obviously adept at using their teeth. So why would the adults simply partake of big strips of meat by lowering it down their throats?

Friday, April 13, 2007

Appetite for Peyote Seeds Up Since Prohibition

1922

NORTHWESTERHERS ARE EATING PEYOTE SEEDS

Since the Prohibition Laws New Appetite Has Gone Even to the Orient.

A new form of intoxication, viewed as a social menace among Northwest Indians and Orientals in Washington, is the eating of peyote or button-like seeds of an Arizona cactus.

Thousands of these types of Northwest inhabitants are now alleged to be peyote drug fiends, a spree occurring several times a year and lasting many weeks. The effect of the cactus button on its victims is sleeplessness, morbidness and an increased mental desire for hilarity and games of chance.

The peyote is a pear-shaped species of cactus common in parts of the Southwest. The top bears seeds resembling red-coat buttons. These are sold by pickers to dealers for $2 per thousand.

The button-like seeds are generally eaten in the dry, brittle state, from 5 to 50 in a single night.

From time immemorial the peyote has been used in the Southwest among the aborigines and Mexicans for producing an intoxication of soul and body to aid them in gambling, dancing, or ill-timed deeds.

Since the abolition of liquor and the ban on narcotics, the peyote fans gradually moved northward along with other vile drugs. The consumption of this bean has invaded the Northwest to Alaska, and many bushels of the peyote buttons have been taken to the Orient.

—Oneonta Daily Star, Oneonta, New York, April 24, 1922, page 7.

Sad News Received: Man Thought Dead Dies

1917

MAN THOUGHT TO BE DEAD WRITES LETTER

George A. Stough Had Not Been Heard from Since 1900.

(Special to The Sentinel.)

Columbia City, Ind., July 28.—Attorney Joseph R. Harrison received a letter Friday addressed to his deceased wife, stating that her brother, George A. Stough, former ballplayer here and cornicemaker at Fort Wayne, who spent several years in Alaska during the Klondyke gold rush, had died July 20 at a San Francisco hospital and was buried the next day in Woodlawn cemetery.

Nothing had been heard from Mr. Stough since 1900, when he was seen in Nome, Alaska, by C. W. Tuttle, of this city, who was then United States commissioner at Sitka. It had been supposed Stough died several years ago. A brother died in Wyoming only a few months ago, and Stough died in all probability not knowing his sister, Mrs. Harrison, had passed away fourteen years ago. The deceased left a will, under which the principal beneficiaries are the children of Attorney Harrison, but it is not known whether Stough made his "stake" before passing away. Mr. Stough was 55 years of age.

—The Fort Wayne Sentinel, Fort Wayne, Indiana, July 28, 1917, page 8.