Kalitan, Our Little Alaskan Cousin - Mary F. Nixon Roulet
"We'll be ready to eat them, heads and tails," said Ted, and his father
added, laughingly:
"'Bible, bones, and hymn-book, too.'"
"What does that mean?" asked Ted, as Kalitan looked up inquiringly.
"Once a writer named Macaulay said he could make a rhyme for any word in
the English language, and a man replied, 'You can't rhyme Timbuctoo.' But
he answered without a pause:
"If I were a Cassowary
On the plains of Timbuctoo,
I'd eat up a missionary,
Bible, bones, and hymn-book, too."
Ted laughed, but Kalitan said, grimly:
"Not good to eat Boston missionary, he all skin and bone!"
"Where did they get the name Alaska?" asked Ted, as they tramped over the
snow toward the glacier.
"Al-ay-ck-sa--great country," said Kalitan.
"It certainly is," said Ted. "It's fine! I never saw anything like this
at home," pointing as he spoke to the scene in front of him.
A group of evergreen trees, firs and the Alaska spruce, so useful for
fires and torches, fringed the edge of the ice-field, green and verdant
in contrast to the gleaming snows of the mountain, which rose in a gentle
slope at first, then precipitously, in a dazzling and enchanting
combination of colour. It was as if some marble palace of old rose before
them against the heavens, for the ice was cut and serrated into spires
and gables, turrets and towers, all seeming to be ornamented with
fretwork where the sun's rays struck the peaks and turned them into
silver and gold. Lower down the ice looked like animals, so twisted was
it into fantastic shapes; fierce sea monsters with yawning mouths
seeming ready to devour; bears and wolves, whales, gigantic elephants,
and snowy tigers, tropic beasts looking strangely out of place in this
arctic clime.
Deep crevices cut the ice-fields, and in their green-blue depths lurked
death, for the least misstep would dash the traveller into an abyss which
had no bottom. Beyond the glacier itself, the snow-capped mountains rose
grand and serene, their glittering peaks clear against the blue sky,
which hue the glacier reflected and played with in a thousand glinting
shades, from purpling amethyst to lapis lazuli and turquoise.
As they gazed spellbound, a strange thing occurred, a thing of such
wonder and beauty that Ted could but grasp his father's arm in silence.
Suddenly the peaks seemed to melt away, the white ice-pinnacles became
real turrets, houses and cathedrals appeared, and before them arose a
wonderful city of white marble, dream-like and shadowy, but beautiful as
Aladdin's palace in the "Arabian Nights." At last Ted could keep silent
no longer.
"What is it?" he cried, and the old chief answered, gravely:
"The City of the Dead," but his father said:
"A mirage, my boy. They are often seen in these regions, but you are
fortunate in seeing one of the finest I have ever witnessed."
"What is a mirage?" demanded Ted.
"An optical delusion," said his father, "and one I am sure I couldn't
explain so that you would understand it. The queer thing about a mirage
is that you usually see the very thing most unlikely to be found in that
particular locality. In the Sahara, men see flowers and trees and
fountains, and here on this glacier we see a splendid city."
"It certainly is queer. What makes glaciers, daddy?" Ted was even more
interested than usual in his father's talk because of Kalitan, whose dark
eyes never left Mr. Strong's face, and who seemed to drink in every word
of information as eagerly as a thirsty bird drinks water.
"The dictionaries tell you that glaciers are fields of ice, or snow and
ice, formed in the regions of perpetual snow, and moving slowly down the
mountain slopes or valleys. Many people say the glaciers are the fathers
of the icebergs which float at sea, and that these are broken off the
glacial stream, but others deny this. When the glacial ice and snow
reaches a point where the air is so warm that the ice melts as fast as it
is pushed down from above, the glacier ends and a river begins. These are
the finest glaciers in the world, except, perhaps, those of the
Himalayas.
"This bids fair to be a wonderfully interesting place for my work, Ted,
and I'm glad you're likely to be satisfied with your new friends, for I
shall have to go to many places and do a lot of things less interesting
than the things Kalitan can show you.
"See these blocks of fine marble and those superb masses of porphyry and
chalcedony,--but there's something which will interest you more. Take my
gun and see if you can't bring down a bird for supper."
Wild ducks were flying low across the edge of the glacier and quite near
to the boys, and Ted grasped his father's gun in wild excitement. He was
never allowed to touch a gun at home. Dearly as he loved his mother, it
had always seemed very strange to him that she should show such poor
taste about firearms, and refuse to let him have any; and now that he had
a gun really in his hands, he could hardly hold it, he was so excited. Of
course it was not the first time, for his father had allowed him to
practise shooting at a mark ever since they had reached Alaska, but this
was the first time he had tried to shoot a living target. He selected
his duck, aimed quickly, and fired. Bang! Off went the gun, and, wonder
of wonders! two ducks fell instead of one.
"Well done, Ted, that duck was twins," cried his father, laughing, almost
as excited as the boy himself, and they ran to pick up the birds. Kalitan
smiled, too, and quietly picked up one, saying:
"This one Kalitan's," showing, as he spoke, his arrow through the bird's
side, for he had discharged an arrow as Ted fired his gun.
"Too bad, Ted. I thought you were a mighty hunter, a Nimrod who killed
two birds with one stone," said Mr. Strong, but Ted laughed and said:
"So I got the one I shot at, I don't care." They had wild duck at
supper that night, for Chetwoof plucked the birds and roasted them on a
hot stone over the spruce logs, and Ted, tired and wet and hungry,
thought he had never tasted such a delicious meal in his life.
CHAPTER IV
TED MEETS MR. BRUIN
It seemed to Ted as if he had scarcely touched the pillow on the nights
which followed before it was daylight, and he would awake to find the sun
streaming in at his tent flap. He always meant to go fishing with Kalitan
before breakfast, so the moment he woke up he jumped out of bed, if his
pile of fragrant pine boughs covered with skins could be called a bed,
and hurried through his toilet. Quick as he tried to be, however, he was
never ready before Kalitan, for, when Ted appeared, the Indian boy had
always had his roll in the snow and was preparing his lines.
Kalitan was perfectly fascinated with the American boy. He thought him
the most wonderful specimen of a boy that he had ever seen. He knew so
much that Kalitan did not, and talked so brightly that being with Ted was
to the Indian like having a book without the bother of reading. There
were some things about him that Kalitan could not understand, to be sure.
Ted talked to his father just as if he were another boy. He even spoke to
Tyee Klake on occasions when that august personage had not only not asked
him a question, but was not speaking at all. From the Thlinkit point of
view, this was a most remarkable performance on Ted's part, but Kalitan
thought it must be all right for a "Boston boy," for even the stern old
chief seemed to regard happy-go-lucky Ted with approval.
Ted, on the other hand, thought Kalitan the most remarkable boy he had
ever met in all his life. He had not been much with boys. His "Lady
Mother," as he always called the gentle, brown-eyed being who ruled his
father and himself had not cared to have her little Galahad mingle with
the rougher city boys who thronged the streets, and had kept him with
herself a great deal. Ted had loved books, and he and his little sister
Judith had lived in a pleasant atmosphere of refinement, playing happily
together until the boy had grown almost to dread anything common or low.
His mother knew he had moral courage, and would face any issue pluckily,
but his father feared he would grow up a milksop, and thought he needed
hardening.
Mrs. Strong objected to the hardening process if it consisted in turning
her boy loose to learn the ways of the city streets, but had consented to
his going with his father, urged thereto by fears for his health, which
was not of the best, and the knowledge that he had reached the "bear and
Indian" age, and it was certainly a good thing for him to have his
experiences first-hand.
To Ted the whole thing was perfectly delightful. When he lay down at
night, he would often like to see "Mother and Ju," but he was generally
so tired that he was asleep before he had time to think enough to be
really homesick. During the day there was too much doing to have any
thinking time, and, since he had met this boy friend, he thought of
little else but him and what they were to do next. The Tyee had assured
Mr. Strong that it was perfectly safe for the boys to go about together.
"Kalitan knows all the trails," he said. "He take care of white brother.
Anything come, call Chetwoof."
As Mr. Strong was very anxious to penetrate the glacier under Klake's
guidance, and wanted Ted to enjoy himself to the full, he left the boys
to themselves, the only stipulation being that they should not go on the
water without Chetwoof.
There seemed to be always something new to do. As the days grew warmer,
the ice broke in the river, and the boys tramped all over the country.
Ted learned to use the bow and arrow, and brought down many a bird for
supper, and proud he was when he served up for his father a wild duck,
shot, plucked, and cooked all by himself.
They fished in the stream by day and set lines by night. They trapped
rabbits and hares in the woods, and one day even got a silver fox, a skin
greatly prized by the fur traders on account of its rarity. Kalitan
insisted that Ted should have it, though he could have gotten forty
dollars for it from a white trader, and Ted was rejoiced at the idea of
taking it home to make a set of furs for Judith.
One day Ted had a strange experience, and not a very pleasant one, which
might have been very serious had it not been for Kalitan. He had noticed
a queer-looking plant on the riverbank the day before, and had stopped to
pick it up, when he received such a sudden and unexpected pricking as to
cause him to jump back and shout for Kalitan. His hand felt as if it had
been pierced by a thousand needles, and he flew to a snow-bank to rub it
with snow.
"I must have gotten hold of some kind of a cactus," he said to Kalitan,
who only replied:
"Huh! picked hedgehog," as he pointed to where Ted's cactus was ambling
indignantly away with every quill rattling and set straight out in anger
at having his morning nap disturbed. Kalitan wrapped Ted's hand in soft
mud, which took the pain out, but he couldn't use it much for the next
few days, and did not feel eager to hunt when his father and the Tyee
started out in the morning. Kalitan remained with him, although his eyes
looked wistful, for he had heard the chief talk about bear tracks having
been seen the day before. Bears were quite a rarity, but sometimes an old
cinnamon or even a big black bruin would venture down in search of fresh
fish, which he would catch cleverly with his great paws.
Kalitan and Ted fished awhile, and then Ted wandered away a little,
wondering what lay around a point of rock which he had never yet
explored. Something lay there which he had by no means expected to see,
and he scarcely knew what to make of it. On the river-bank, close to the
edge of the stream, was a black figure, an Indian fishing, as he
supposed, and he paused to watch. The fisherman was covered with fur
from head to foot, and, as Ted watched him, he seemed to have no line or
rod. Going nearer, the boy grew even more puzzled? and, though the man's
back was toward him, he could easily see that there was something
unusual about the figure. Just as he was within hailing distance and
about to shout, the figure made a quick dive toward the water and sprang
back again with a fish between his paws, and Ted saw that it was a huge
bear. He gave a sharp cry and then stood stock-still. The creature
looked around and stood gnawing his fish and staring at Ted as stupidly
as the boy stared at him. Then Ted heard a halloo behind him and
Kalitan's voice:
"Run for Chetwoof, quick!"
Ted obeyed as the animal started to move off. He ran toward the camp,
hearing the report of Kalitan's gun as he ran. Chetwoof, hearing the
noise, hurried out, and it was but a few moments before he was at
Kalitan's side. To Ted it seemed like a day before he could get back and
see what was happening, but he arrived on the scene in time to see
Chetwoof despatch the animal.
"Hurrah!" cried Ted. "You've killed a bear," but Chetwoof only
grunted crossly.
"Very bad luck!" he said, and Kalitan explained:
"Indians don't like to kill bears or ravens. Spirits in them, maybe
ancestors."
Ted looked at him in great astonishment, but Kalitan explained:
"Once, long ago, a Thlinkit girl laughed at a bear track in the snow and
said: 'Ugly animal must have made that track!' But a bear heard and was
angry. He seized the maiden and bore her to his den, and turned her into
a bear, and she dwelt with him, until one day her brother killed the bear
and she was freed. And from that day Thlinkits speak respectfully of
bears, and do not try to kill them, for they know not whether it is a
bear or a friend who hides within the shaggy skin."
The Tyee and Mr. Strong were greatly surprised when they came home to
see the huge carcass of Mr. Bruin, and they listened to the account of
Kalitan's bravery. The old chief said little, but he looked approvingly
at Kalitan, and said "Hyas kloshe" (very good), which unwonted praise
made the boy's face glow with pleasure. They had a great discussion as
to whom the bear really belonged. Ted had found him, Kalitan had shot
him first, and Chetwoof had killed him, so they decided to go shares.
Ted wanted the skin to take home, and thought it would make a splendid
rug for his mother's library, so his father paid Kalitan and Chetwoof
what each would have received as their share had the skin been sold to
a trader, and they all had bear meat for supper. Ted thought it finer
than any beefsteak he had ever eaten, and over it Kalitan smacked his
lips audibly.
CHAPTER V
A MONSTER OF THE DEEP
The big bear occupied considerable attention for several days. He had to
be carefully skinned and part of the meat dried for future use. Alaskans
never use salt for preserving meat. Indeed they seem to dislike salt very
much. It had taken Ted some time to learn to eat all his meat and fish
quite fresh, without a taste of salt, but he had grown to like it. There
is something in the sun and wind of Alaska which cures meat perfectly,
and the bear's meat was strung on sticks and dried in the sun so that
they might enjoy it for a long time.
It seemed as if the adventure with Bruin was enough to last the boys for
several days, for Ted's hand still pained him from the porcupine's
quills, and he felt tired and lazy. He lay by the camp-fire one afternoon
listening to Kalitan's tales of his island home, when his father came in
from a long tramp, and, looking at him a little anxiously, asked:
"What's the matter, son?"
"Nothing, I'm only tired," said Ted, but Kalitan said:
"Porcupine quills poison hand. Well in a few days."
"So your live cactus is getting in his work, is he? I'm glad it wasn't
the bear you mistook for an Alaskan posy and tried to pick. I'm tired
myself," and Mr. Strong threw himself down to rest.
"Daddy, how did we come to have Alaska, anyway?"
"Well, that's a long story," said his father, "but an interesting one."
"Do tell us about it," urged Ted. "I know we bought it, but what did we
pay the Indians for it? I shouldn't have thought they'd have sold such a
fine country."
Kalitan looked up quickly, and there was a sudden gleam in his dark eyes
that Ted had never seen before.
"Thlinkits never sell," he said. "Russians steal."
Mr. Strong put his hand kindly on the boy's head.
"You're right, Kalitan," he said "The Russians never conquered the
Thlinkits, the bravest tribe in all Alaska.
"You see, Teddy, it was this way. A great many years ago, about 1740, a
Danish sailor named Bering, who was in the service of the Russians,
sailed across the ocean and discovered the strait named for him, and a
number of islands. Some of these were not inhabited; others had Indians
or Esquimos on them, but, after the manner of the early discoverers,
Bering took possession of them all in the name of the Emperor of Russia.
It doesn't seem right as we look at things now, but in those days 'might
made right,' and it was just the same way the English did when they came
to America.
"The Russians settled here, finding the fishing and furs fine things for
trade, and driving the Indians, who would not yield to them, farther and
farther inland. In 1790 the Czar made Alexander Baranoff manager of the
trading company. Baranoff established trading-posts in various places,
and settled at Sitka, where you can see the ruins of the splendid castle
he built. The Russians also sent missionaries to convert the Indians to
the Greek Church, which is the church of Russia. The Indians, however,
never learned to care for the Russians, and often were cruelly treated by
them. The Russians, however, tried to do something for their education,
and established several schools. One as early as 1775, on Kadiak Island,
had thirty pupils, who studied arithmetic, reading, navigation, and four
of the mechanical trades, and this is a better record than the American
purchasers can show, I am sorry to say.
"One of the recent travellers[6] in Alaska says that he met in the
country 'American citizens who never in their lives heard a prayer for
the President of the United States, nor of the Fourth of July, nor the
name of the capital of the nation, but who have been taught to pray for
the Emperor of Russia, to celebrate his birthday, and to commemorate the
victories of ancient Greece.' In March, 1867, the Russians sold Alaska to
the United States for $7,200,000 in gold. It was bought for a song
almost, when we consider the immense amount of money made for the
government by the seal fisheries, the cod and salmon industries, and the
opening of the gold fields. The resources of the country are not
half-known, and the government is beginning to see this. That is one of
the reasons they have sent me here, with the other men, to find out what
the earth holds for those who do not know how to look for its treasures.
Gold is not the best thing the earth produces. There is land in Alaska
little known full of coal and other useful minerals. Other land is
covered with magnificent timber which could be shipped to all parts of
the world. There are pasture-lands where stock will fatten like pigs
without any other feeding; there are fertile soils which will raise
almost any crops, and there are intelligent Indians who can be taught to
work and be useful members of society. I do not mean dragged off to the
United States to learn things they could never use in their home lives,
but who should be educated here to make the best of their talents in
their home surroundings.
[Footnote 6: Dr. Sheldon Jackson, General Agent of Education in the
Territory.]
"That is one crying shame to our government, that they have neglected the
Alaskan citizens. Forty years have been wasted, but we are beginning to
wake up now, and twenty years more will see the Indians of Kalitan's
generation industrious men and women, not only clever hunters and
fishermen, but lumbermen, coopers, furniture makers, farmers, miners, and
stock-raisers."
At this moment their quiet conversation was interrupted by a wild shout
from the shore, and, springing to their feet, they saw Chetwoof
gesticulating wildly and shouting to the Tyee, who had been mending his
canoe by the riverbank. Kalitan dropped everything and ran without a
word, scudding like the arrow from which he took his name. Before Ted
could follow or ask what was the matter, from the ocean a huge body
rose ten feet out of the water spouting jets of spray twenty feet into
the air, the sun striking his sides and turning them to glistening
silver. Then it fell back, the waters churning into frothy foam for a
mile around.
"It's a whale, Ted, sure as you live. Luck certainly is coming your way,"
said his father; but, at the word "whale," Ted had started after Kalitan,
losing no time in getting to the scene of action as fast as possible.
"Watch the Tyee!" called Kalitan over his shoulder, as both boys ran down
to the water's edge.
The old chief was launching his _kiak_ into the seething waters, and to
Ted it seemed incredible that he meant to go in that frail bark in
pursuit of the mighty monster. The old man's face, however, was as calm
as though starting on a pleasure-trip in peaceful waters, and Ted watched
in breathless admiration to see what would happen next. Klake paddled
swiftly out to sea, drawing as near as he dared to where the huge monster
splashed idly up and down like a great puppy at play. He stopped the
_kiak_ and watched; then poised his spear and threw it, and so swift and
graceful was his gesture that Ted exclaimed in amazement.
"Tyee Klake best harpoon-thrower of all the Thlinkits;" said Kalitan,
proudly. "Watch!"
Ted needed no such instructions. His keen eyes passed from fish to man
and back again, and no movement of the Tyee escaped him.
The instant the harpoon was thrown, the Tyee paddled furiously away, for
when a harpoon strikes a whale, he is likely to lash violently with his
tail, and may destroy his enemy, and this is a moment of terrible danger
to the harpooner. But the whale was too much astonished to fight, and,
with a terrific splash, he dived deep, deep into the water, to get rid of
that stinging thing in his side, in the cold green waters below.
[Illustration: "AWAY WENT ANOTHER STINGING LANCE."]
The Tyee waited, his grim face tense and earnest. It might have been
fifteen minutes, for whales often stay under water for twenty minutes
before coming to the surface to breathe, but to Kalitan and Ted it
seemed an hour.
Then the spray dashed high into the air again, and the instant the huge
body appeared, Klake drew near, and away went another stinging lance
again, swift and, oh! so sure of aim. This time the whale struck out
wildly, and Kalitan held his breath, while Ted gasped at the Tyee's
danger, for his _kiak_ rocked like a shell and then was quite hidden
from their sight by the spray which was dashed heavenward like clouds of
white smoke.
Once more the creature dived, and this time he stayed down only a few
minutes, and, when he came up, blood spouted into the air and dyed the
sea crimson, and Kalitan exclaimed:
"Pierced his lungs! Now he must die."
There was one more bright, glancing weapon flying through the air, and
Ted noticed attached to it by a thong a curious-looking bulb, and
asked Kalitan:
"What is on that lance?"
"Sealskin buoy," said Kalitan. "We make the bag and blow it up? tie it to
the harpoon, and when the lance sticks into the whale, the buoy makes it
very hard for him to dive. After awhile he dies and drifts ashore."
The waters about the whale were growing red, and the carcass seemed
drifting out to sea, and at last the Tyee seemed satisfied. He sent a
last look toward the huge body, then turned his _kiak_ toward the
watchers on the banks.
"If it only comes to shore," said Kalitan.
"What will you do with it?" asked Ted.
"Oh, there are lots of things we can do with a whale," said Kalitan. "The
blubber is the best thing to eat in all the world. Then we use the oil In
a bowl with a bit of pith in it to light our huts. The bones are all
useful in building our houses. Whales were once bears, but they played
too much on the shore and ran away to sea, so they wore off all their fur
on the rocks, and had their feet nibbled off by the fishes."
"Well, this one didn't have his tail nibbled off at any rate,"
laughed Ted. "I saw it flap at the Tyee, and thought that was the
last of him, sure."
"Tyee much big chief," said Kalitan, and just then the old man's _kiak_
drew near them, and he stepped ashore as calmly as though he had not just
been through so exciting a scene with a mighty monster of the deep.
CHAPTER VI
THE ISLAND HOME OF KALITAN
Swift and even were the strokes of the paddles as the canoes sped over
the water toward Kalitan's Island home. Ted was so excited that he could
hardly sit still, and Tyee Klake gave him a warning glance and a muttered
"Kooletchika."[7]
[Footnote 7: "Dangerous channel."]
The day before a big canoe had come to the camp, the paddlers bearing
messages for the Tyee, and he had had a long conversation with Mr.
Strong. The result was astonishing to Teddy, for his father told him that
he was to go for a month to the island with Kalitan. This delighted him
greatly, but he was a little frightened when he found that his father
was to stay behind.