62 ANTHROPOLOGICAL SURVEY IN ALASKA [bth. ann. 4G 



Went to mission again to see Father Jette — he is not of the mis- 

 sion — a fine old Frenchman and scholar. He was not responsible for 

 last night and anyway I was spoiled farther up the river. His 

 meritorious work deserves to be known and published. 



After a very simple lunch packed yesterday's collections from the 

 Bonasila site — five boxes. The parcel post here alone will cost 

 $20.40. How odd that the transportation of the collections' of a 

 Government institution must be paid for from the little appropria- 

 tion received for scientific work to another department of the same 

 Government. 



It is cloudy, drizzly, cold. Am endeavoring to leave to-morrow, 

 but they want $35 to the next station, and the boat does not leave 

 for St. Michael until the 11th. Fortunately I am able to send away 

 the collections, and there will surely be some way down the river. 



Ghost Creek 



July 1-2, 10.30 p. m. A night on the Yukon. (PI. 3, a,) They 

 have lit a powder against the mosquitoes. Smear the many gnat 

 bites with Mentholatum — helps but for a while — and having now my 

 fine meshed netting, my own bedding, and a clean pillow, I feel 

 fine, safe from all the pests, and ready for a quiet night, all alone. 



Commenced dozing off when a he-cat, who hid in the store at 

 closing, begins to make all kinds of unnamable noises. Stand it for 

 a while, but he does not stop and one could never sleep — so crawl 

 out from the bed, catch the beast, and throw him out. 



In again and settling down, when another cat — did not know there 

 were two here — begins to mew and tries to force its way out under 

 the door, which is about 2% inches above the floor. Persists until 

 I have to get up the second time. Throw that cat out and in bed 

 once more. 



In a minute, however, the dogs outside espied the cats and began 

 a pandemonium of howls and yelps and barks. Try hard, but can 

 not stand it. Moreover, the last cat got on the roof, where I hear 

 him walking, and he seems in no hurry to get off. So finally have 

 to get out, catch the cat on the edge of the roof, throw him back into 

 the store, and to bed for another trial. But soon have to smear the 

 body; the bites itch too much. The sleepiness is now quite gone. 

 A mild amusement as to what next. It must be midnight or later 

 now, and it has grown cold. One blanket is not sufficient. Doze off 

 a little, wake up with cold, readjust blanket and flaps of bag, doze 

 off a little again — the dogs commence to howl, just for a song this 

 time, in two, three, then a unison. The bites itch bitterly, now here, 

 now there. The sun has risen ; it is real cold, probably no more than 

 about 40° to 45° F. And so on until 5.30, when at last fall into 



