" and playfully insist that we "all join in the
chorus"; and, on one occasion, apropos of nothing whatever, she
announced that she was a mining broker and would be happy to market
properties for the "boys."
I remember also two big, husky, good-looking miners, who used to
interrogate me about getting up the streams to and above Council City.
They had a grievance against their "disagreeable" cabin-mate. This was a
Swedish missionary; and the complaint was made not because he was so
"damned religious," but because he was unsociable--wouldn't enter into
the spirit of things. For instance, when asked whether he was going to
Nome, his only reply was that his ticket didn't read that way. Perhaps
the missionary was canny in not allowing his room-mates too much leeway.
And there were others.
As we approached the now familiar bold and bleak topography of Unalaska,
it was apparent that the rumors of late ice in Bering Sea were well
founded. The hills and slopes bore a good deal more snow than a year
ago, and the atmosphere was more chill. There remained in the harbor but
few vessels. The majority of the fleet had already forged into Bering
Sea; but the _Jeannie_, a steam-whaler, specially fitted to "buck" the
ice, was the only vessel known to have discharged its passengers and
freight at Nome. This had been accomplished on the ice, during the
latter part of May, two miles from the beach, the freight at great
expense having been transferred ashore by dog-teams. We remained at
Unalaska over Sunday, and that evening a goodly number of the ship's
company attended song services at the Jesse Lee Home. This institution
cares for and tries to make good men and women of the outcast and
half-breed children who are gathered in from various Aleutian Islands.
It is a good cause, well conducted. The poor little isolated waifs
closed the exercises by singing "God be with You till We Meet Again,"
and it was a seriously appreciative crowd who listened and mentally
echoed, "Amen."
Luck plays a very important part in getting through the ice-fields. The
wind may take a sudden turn and so shift the ice as to leave an ample
channel through which the ship, fog permitting, may safely pass on to
its destination. But the _St. Paul_, setting out June 17 on the
northward stretch, did not meet with these favorable conditions. She was
soon literally "up against" the ice--not great towering bergs, but
smaller ones fantastically shaped like floating island
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