Boy With the U. S. Survey

by William Henry Giles Kingston

  CHAPTER XIX

  RACING A POLAR WINTER

  The comparatively flat plateau country, dotted with sloughs, on whichthe party had embarked after leaving the camp on the tundra, where theyhad been forced to fight with fire to save their possessions, lasted buta short while on the journey. Before evening the edge of the table-landwas neared and the scattering rivulets drained into a narrow and swiftstream, which Roger learned was the Anaktuvuk. Rivers, thoughconservative in manner as always, was obviously delighted at the thoughtthat all the hard up-stream labor was at an end, with the expeditionwell ahead of its time, and many important details, topographical andgeological, discovered.

  It was a matter of absolute ease to float down the smoothly flowingAnaktuvuk, and for the first two days the only disadvantage to life werethe clouds of mosquitoes. But the third day these pests disappeared intime to allow the voyagers to pay due attention to a troubled piece ofwater, as the stream shot down the northern slope of the Arctic Rockiesthrough gorges and canyons of no little height.

  The pitch of the stream Roger saw to be very great, but his skill as acanoeist was not heavily drawn upon, since the bed of the stream waslittle impeded, save for a few boulders at scattered intervals. Butdespite the smoothness of the stream, the banks overhung the river sofar as to cause a most unpleasant sensation of fear. It seemed to theboy every minute as though the pendent masses of earth and rock wouldfall and overwhelm them, and the boy could tell, from the anxiousglances cast overhead by Rivers, that the same thought was disturbingthe chief of the party.

  About two o'clock in the afternoon of the third day they ran through along gorge of this undercut character, and one, moreover, from whichlittle trickling muddy streamlets showed that the frozen ground wasthawing under the hot August sun. Roger, as usual, was in the leadingboat with Rivers and Bulson, the Indian being in the stern. Suddenly theboy heard a warning cry from the other boat, and looking overhead, sawa mass of snow and earth detach itself from the top of the cliff fourhundred feet above them and thunder down directly for the boat.

  Simultaneously the boy felt Harry reach forward for a long stroke and,turning, saw Rivers dive from the boat. Bulson, who was also paddling,put his superb muscle into his stroke, and though Roger felt likefollowing his chief's policy and taking to the water, he stuck to hispost and made his paddle bite hard on the water. The canoe sprang aheadlike a cannon ball, but a second later, with a dull roar the landslidestruck, just the edge of it catching the boat. Roger was conscious of agrinding crash, and then a blank.

  When he came to his senses a few minutes later he found himselfstretched upon the bank and Rivers bending over him. He lay still for amoment and then became deathly sick, noting the looks of concern on thefaces of the party. In a few moments he felt better and tried to sit up,but Bulson placed his large hand on the boy's shoulder and bade him bestill.

  "Where's Harry?" was Roger's first question, his last impression beforehe went under with the ruins of the canoe having been that of seeing apiece of rock falling straight for his comrade's head.

  "All right," answered the Indian composedly; "jump heap quick, though."

  "You certainly did, Harry," said another of the members of the party. "Icould have sworn that the rock hit you."

  "No hit at all," was the quiet reply.

  "And Bulson?"

  "Bulson liked it," broke in Magee; "sure the whole Rocky Mountains couldfall on him, an' he'd like it for a regular exercise before breakfast."

  "I guess I'm all right, too," said Roger, and seeing his anxiety to situp, they let him rise. He patted himself all over and then laughed. "Isuppose I'd feel it if anything was broken," he said, "so it must beO. K." He got on his feet.

  "Did you get out of it all right, Mr. Rivers?" went on the boy, turningto his chief. "I'm not sure, but I think I saw you dive."

  "Yes," answered the geologist, "and it's lucky I did, for one of therocks struck the very spot where I was sitting. I thought it was coming,and that's why I jumped. You're sure you feel all right?"

  "Sure," said the boy. "I lost my wind, that's about all."

  Rivers smiled. "You're lucky," he said, "in having been stooping overwhen the slide struck, because if it had taken you in the ribs or chestinstead of the back, you'd have had some internal injury for sure. Butsince it struck you in the back, and you don't feel any special pain,your spine hasn't been hurt and nothing else can be, you must be allright."

  "I suppose the canoe is smashed!" the boy said questioningly.

  "The boat's at the bottom of the river, with a few tons of earth androck and snow on top of it."

  Roger's expression changed suddenly.

  "But the maps, the plane table, all the work!" he exclaimed, "you don'tmean that everything is lost!"

  "Do you suppose," answered the chief, "that I should be satisfied ifthose were gone?"

  "Then how were they saved? I don't understand," put in the boy,mystified.

  "I grabbed the oilskin bag with the maps when I went over the side,"replied Rivers, "and Bulson hurled the plane table backwards over hishead, so that it fell in the water for the other boat to pick up. Butall the instruments are gone, of course, and a good many of ourspecimens."

  "It's a good thing," put in the topographer, "that I made a littleduplicate for my own collection."

  "Yes," answered the chief, "it might be a whole lot worse than it is.It's a mighty fortunate thing that no one was badly hurt."

  "And I'm mighty glad," said Roger, "that my camera and all the negativeswere in the other canoe. But now that we've only got one boat, how shallwe get down the rest of the way?"

  "In the boat. We shall have to throw everything away except what wecan't do without, and live on short rations. One of the guns is left,and there are plenty of fish in the river, so we probably will get alongall right until we strike the Eskimo settlement on the delta of theriver."

  "And if we don't strike it?" asked Roger.

  "Well, if we don't, you'll be pretty hungry. But we'll strike it, allright, you'll see."

  So the party proceeded to lighten their only canoe. Everything which wasof weight and not absolutely essential was cached and a cairn builtover it, not with any intention of coming back, but so that it should beavailable if any other traveler should ever pass that way. Since it wasso difficult to transport provisions and camp conveniences at such adistance, it was felt that it would be sheer wickedness to let anythingbe destroyed.

  "But people might steal it!" exclaimed the boy.

  "To take what you need isn't stealing in this country," answered thegeologist. "You are supposed to help yourself if you are in need, andyou are expected to give to the uttermost if you find any one else inneed. This part of the world is too far away from civilization for any'dog eat dog' methods. Here, being uncivilized, men are more or lesscharitably disposed toward each other."

  "That's a cynical speech, Rivers," said the topographer.

  "Cynical or not, it's true," the chief answered.

  "Sure, it's true," commented Magee, who had been listening. "If I'mhungry in a big modern city, and I open a man's door, walk to hispantry, feed myself and a dozen hungry men; and what's more, walk awaywith enough provisions for a month, where would I land?"

  "In jail," said Roger.

  "Sure, an' I would. But that's what you can do out here."

  "Well," said the chief, "I wish I were sure of being able to do it atNigaluk."

  Travel, however, was very different in the one over-loaded canoe, andRivers was not willing to allow any chances to be taken. The slightestevidence of shoal, rapid, or boulders meant wading. For the next threedays, therefore, two men, each at one of the bows of the canoe, wadeddown the stream, finding out, with their shins mainly, where wereboulders near enough to the surface of the water to strike the canoe.

  On the second day of this sort of work, moreover, the temperaturedropped fifty-two degrees in about six hours, and from a hot sun andhumid air with a thermometer at eighty-eight degrees at noon
, by dusk itwas only four degrees above freezing with a driving gale and a stingingrain. While many camp conveniences had been left behind to lighten thecanoe, a strip of canvas had been retained, and this was propped up withwillow sticks in such wise as to keep some of the rain off.

  But through the night the gale howled from the north, and the rain drovein with the sharpness of a whip-lash, so that the first faint light ofdawn found every one ready for the start, as at least it was warmermoving about than lying under that pitiless sky. The only gleam ofcomfort was that it gave one day's respite from the eternal mosquitoes.The second day the norther abated, and fair weather returned, bringingwith it, of course, the close personal attention of the mosquitoes ofthe lower tundra, though these were rapidly thinning out.

  A couple of days of smooth water enabled the use of paddles and fairtime was made, but after the junction with the Telugu River more shallowrapids and boulders were encountered, leading to more days of wading,continuing until they struck the main stream of the Colville, a riverwith a big head of water. But these various difficulties had delayedmatters considerably, and not until August 10th did the divergence ofthe channels of the river show that the delta of the Colville wasreached, where they hoped to find the Eskimo village of Nigaluk.

  "What kind of a place is it?" asked Roger, as they encamped for thenight.

  "It is the metropolis of the Arctic Ocean," said Rivers with a smile;"the biggest city between Point Barrow and Hudson's Bay."

  The boy was not taken in by the description, for he had a livelyremembrance of Alaskan centers of population, and knew that anythingmore than four huts was considered as a post of no small importance,while one hut, all by itself, was deemed worthy of a place on the map.But though he did not expect a large place, he watched eagerly enoughthe next day for this Arctic city, wondering what kind of houses wouldbe built to withstand the rigors of an Arctic winter.

  But the solitary canoe went on and on, up this channel and down another,and still no village was seen. All the next two days the party searched,but to no purpose; apparently the Arctic metropolis was not there. Thematter was extremely serious, for the provisions were almost exhausted,and on the evening of August 12th the wind switched again to thenorthward, and the first of the winter's snows hurled itself at them.

  "If this is the middle of August!" exclaimed Roger, shivering, "whatmust it be like here in the middle of January?"

  WINTER'S THREAT ALMOST FULFILLED.

  The shores of the Arctic Ocean, where the tundra-covered coastal plainextends unbroken for thousands of miles.

  _Photograph by U.S.G.S._]

  "Nobody knows exactly," was the geologist's reply, "for no white man hasever wintered here. We shall be the first unless we find Nigaluk in ahurry. And I doubt if we can spare the time, so to-morrow we will haveto go down this channel to the ocean. I don't like this weather, for ifthe winter sets in early we may be caught even yet."

  But when, the next day, the party arrived at Harrison Bay, at the mouthof the river, Roger's heart sank within him at the prospect. Cold,bleak, and gray, the waters of the Arctic Ocean stretched before him, asteady swell breaking on the tundra shores that line it without a breakfor hundreds of miles. The wind, blowing from the north, was kicking upa vicious, snappy sea, the tops of the waves showing their teeth, andupon the horizon the white blink of the ice.

  Bad weather, a choppy sea, an Arctic winter setting in, and nothing butan overloaded Peterboro canoe to hold seven men, it was a bad outlookfor the party. It was over two hundred miles to Point Barrow and thetime of storms was at hand. Rivers called the men together.

  "Boys," he said, "so far the trip has been very successful, but owing tothat pesky landslide on the Anaktuvuk, with the loss of a boat, it looksas though we were going to have a tight run for home, and we shall haveto show a burst of speed. Now there are only three possible things todo, and I'm going to put them before you and see what you think aboutit, because whatever is done must be done without delay."

  "And what are those three?" asked Gersup, as second in command of theparty.

  "The first of these is to make a camp here, and to chase up and down thevarious channels of this delta until we find Nigaluk. If we locate it,we can get provisions and boats, or if the weather is bad, dogs andsleds; and, by one means or the other, can get to Point Barrow, or evendown as far as Cape Smyth. The objection to that is that we have nodefinite data as to where Nigaluk is. It may not be on this river atall, but on some other stream flowing into the ocean near by, which hasbeen confused with the Colville."

  "Not only that, Mr. Rivers," answered Gersup, "but the channels of thisdelta may have changed and these Eskimo settlements are not verypermanent, in any event."

  "That's true," rejoined the chief. "Well, it is obvious that the canoeis not enough for us to get to Point Barrow, but it might serve to carryprovisions, so that if we could track along the shore, with, say, oneman in the boat to keep her out of the surf, it might be possible to getthere, though, with rounding the indentations of the land, it would beover three hundred miles. What do you think, Harry?"

  The Indian shook his head.

  "No can do," he said, "wind drive boat on shore. Smash."

  "The only thing that's left then," the chief of the party continued, "isto pack the entire distance, depending for food on what we can catch orshoot. I suppose we'd have to portage the canoe because there areseveral small streams along the way. Of course, in a couple of weeks,the frosts will set in, and the tundra won't be so bad to travel over.But it's a long way."

  "It's the longest way, but the surest," said Gersup; "as long as wedon't run short of provisions. How about it, George?"

  "Not counting anything you bring in," replied the cook, "I can give yourations for ten or twelve days. But there seem to be signs of caribou,and though the geese and ducks are thinning out, they are probably goodfor a couple of weeks yet, before all are gone. Then there's alwaysfish. If everything goes right, we ought to be able to make it."

  "Very well then," decided Rivers, "this is what we will do. Unpack thecanoe, let Harry and Doughty take provisions for two days, and with thecanoe light, spend every minute of daylight searching for this placeNigaluk, returning to camp by nightfall the day after to-morrow, if theyhave not found it. In the meantime we will do some hunting and fishing,and try to build up a store of provisions."

  "But how shall we be sure of finding you again?" queried Roger. "If thisNigaluk is so hard to find and the channels of this river are a regularmaze, we might lose the camp, and then we would be stranded without anygrub and without a gun, and you would be left without a boat."

  "We'll keep a big smudge going, of course," said the chief; "I hadthought of that. Now you two had better turn in, and we'll unpack thecanoe and get it ready. I'll have you called early so that you can havebreakfast and start off even before it gets light, because for a fewmiles, anyway, we know Nigaluk isn't there."

  The next morning, before it was light, Harry and Roger were in thecanoe, and they started off on their hunt for Nigaluk, up this channeland down the other. Harry was paddling for all he was worth, and the boyfound it hard labor to keep up, but at their noon stop nothing had beenfound. As it was growing dusk, however, the Indian gave a grunt andpointed ahead, and Roger, giving a shout of joy, saw before him theoutlines of a structure. But on arrival, they found nothing but anEskimo grave, erect on four driftwood spars. Near by a tiny channelmeandered through what appeared to be an island, and though it was nowalmost dark, Harry turned into this, and in a few minutes there spranginto view a group of not less than twenty huts.

  But no dogs barked as they came near, no fires smoked, no boats lay onthe beach, and Harry, even before they landed, gave a disappointedgrunt.

  "Heap gone," he said, then as his keen eye discerned through the shadowsevidences of recent occupation, he added, "not gone long!" He stoopeddown as they landed, and picked up a little fish, only a few incheslong. "This caught to-day," he said.

  Roger's heart
gave a bound.

  "Then they can't be far away," he answered.

  "Not far. Find to-morrow," and the Indian went on to explain to the boythe usually slow movements of the Eskimo, and their readiness to campevery few miles. He pointed out also that the channel through which theyhad come had an abandoned look, and that therefore the route to thiscamp must have been in the other direction. Since winter was drawing on,moreover, he argued that the natives would not be going up the river,and therefore, if they followed the other channel and turned seaward thenext day, they might overtake the Eskimo.

  This was a stern chase, and Harry routed the boy out when it was stillpitch dark, and they started slowly down the other channel, looking forthe first turn seaward. Just as the first faint gray showed in the sky,the opening appeared and the canoe shot down it. Dawn is very gradual inthose latitudes, and steadily the light grew clear and the canoe begangoing through the water like an express train. Confident in his ownidea, Harry turned neither to right nor left but made the light boatfairly fly.

  ESKIMO SAVIORS.

  A group of the tribe that took the party in their umiaks, near theprized canoe.

  _Photograph by U.S.G.S._]

  POINTING AWAY FROM WINTER.

  The Eskimo grave that led the party to the village, and thence to rescueand safety.

  _Photograph by U.S.G.S._]

  By midday Roger was ravenous, but the Indian shook his head when amoment's stop was suggested and an hour later, when the boy was ready todrop, they turned into a large inlet and saw ahead of them a party ofEskimo in their umiaks, eleven boats in all, each containing from threeto six persons. The umiaks, large skin-covered boats made for the ArcticOcean fishing, are extremely staunch and fairly swift, but as comparedto a light well-seasoned canoe in the hands of two experts, they werelittle better than mud scows.

  The sight of the umiaks and the knowledge that this might make or mar,to a great extent, the resources of the party, put ginger into Roger,and the way in which that little boat was urged over the water wasalmost incredible. To the natives, who had never seen anything but craftof their own making, and the heavy staunch boats of whaling steamers,the speed was little short of magic. Harry and Roger overtook them asthough they had been standing still.

  The party of Eskimo was on its way to Point Barrow, where most of thenatives expected to winter, and as they planned to trade, had aninterpreter with them. To him Roger explained their needs. But thenatives showed little desire to take the travelers in their boats overthe long sea trip, and the boy, knowing the urgency of the case, was athis wits' end. Indeed the Eskimo were just about to paddle away to theopen sea, where the little canoe would scarcely dare to follow them,when Harry said suddenly:

  "Good. You offer give canoe."

  "You mean in exchange for a passage to Point Barrow?" said Roger, seeingthe plan. "Good scheme, I'll try it."

  He turned to the interpreter, and pointed out that if they would givethem provisions and take them to the cape, not only would they getmoney, but that the great chief would give them the swift boat as atoken of kindness. But the boy hardly expected that the offer wouldcreate the excitement that resulted.

  The very thought that this magical, fast-speeding little boat mightbecome the property of the tribe excited the occupants of all theumiaks. Boat races, it appeared, were the only sport in Arctic waters,and if this tribe had such a boat as that they could be the championsof the Arctic seas. There was no further hesitation, and with eagernessthe whole party hastened to where the camp had been pitched, the smokeleading the way without much difficulty. On the way they learned thatNigaluk was further west, on an arm of the delta which branched offquite a distance higher up the river, and that the settlement they hadfound was a comparatively new place, as yet uncharted.

  Bad weather came, and several days were lost by storms, so that thetrip, even in the Eskimo umiaks and under the conditions the nativesknew so well how to overcome, was by no means easy, and Roger shiveredat the thought of the terrible experience he would have had to face, ifthey had not overtaken the Eskimo boats. The canoe, which was beingtowed behind the largest umiak, was almost a fetish for the natives, andthe way it rose to every wave, never shipping even a drop of water, tothem was a constant source of delight. They jabbered the whole tripthrough of their sure success in the races of next season.

  Camping along the shore was difficult, as no wood except a fewoccasional sticks of driftwood was procurable, and the water, whileplentiful, was uniformly brackish. But trouble was not to let them go soeasily. A steady and heavy gale set in from the northeast and theice-pack began to drive.

  Then the Eskimos gave a taste of their staying qualities. For fifty-fourconsecutive hours their paddles never ceased a second, one man in eachboat eating and resting while the others paddled. The Survey men tooktheir turn at the labor, and trained to endurance as they were, theycompeted well with the untiring swing of the Eskimo paddle, and gainedthe admiration of the natives. For the last four hours it was a flightfor life that kept every nerve alert and tense, and the ice-pack was notfifty yards from shore when the boats, paddling furiously, rounded PointBarrow. Half of them ran into the little Eskimo village of Nuwuk, justat the extremity of the point, but the others took the Survey party tothe main settlement, where a store, a mission church, and a post-officebespeak the habits of the white man.

  With steam up and all ready to start, lay with her anchor on a springthe little revenue cutter, fearing the ice, now only stayed from furtheradvance by the projection of Point Barrow, the easterly bent of thewind having so far left open water. The steamer's boat was waiting asthe umiaks ran in, for they had been sighted some hours before. The fewnecessaries of the party, the maps and records were trans-shippedwithout delay, the natives duly paid and rewarded, mail secured, and inless than ten minutes from touching the shore the men were on board thecutter.

  As they went up the ladder and set foot on deck Rivers turned to Roger,who had followed him, with the rest of the party.

  "We're back, boys," he said, "and you've stuck right to the end. No mancould ask finer comrades on the trail," he put his hand on the boy'sshoulder; "men, every one of you, and the boy as good a helper as anyone could wish to have."

  THE END

  BOOKS BY FRANCIS ROLT-WHEELER

  U. S. Service Series

  Illustrations from Photographs taken for U. S. Government. Large 12mo.Cloth. Price $1.50 each.

  THE BOY WITH THE U. S. SURVEY THE BOY WITH THE U. S. FORESTERS THE BOY WITH THE U. S. CENSUS THE BOY WITH THE U. S. FISHERIES THE BOY WITH THE U. S. INDIANS

  LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON