114 ANTHROPOLOGICAL SURVEY IN ALASKA [bth.asn.46 



hundred lower jaws, and a lot of long and other bones. This, to- 

 gether with the rest of the material from this place, ought to give 

 us data of much value. 



But now, how shall the lot be got on the boat. Luckily, one of the 

 Eskimo that has been working for me has a dog team and sled. So 

 I engage these; and shortly after we finish putting everything in 

 order — in the presence now of Doctor Goodman, who comes to look at 

 us — the man arrives, with a good-sized sled and 13 whitish dogs. 

 Load all the bags on — and then a sight never to be forgotten — the 

 dogs pulling the load across the tundra, depressions, gravels, right 

 down to the water's edge and to the motor boat that is waiting for us. 

 How they strained, pulled with all will, and obeyed. A wise leader 

 in front, six pairs behind. No reins, only a few calls from the 

 Eskimo, and they knew just what to do. Tried to photograph them, 

 but light already poor — advancing season. (PI. 9. a. b.) 



Then hurry to the teacher, not home ; to La Voy, not home. Find 

 teacher in tent, sick, trembling; I fear beginning of typhoid. Did 

 not get anything for me in our absence. La Voy promised to give 

 me some things from his collections, but now is not here. A native 

 woman, however, meets me far out on the beach, and I learn she has 

 dug out for me since our first visit five good skulls from the ground — 

 some, she shows, deep to above the elbow. She has them near the 

 ship — we go on — on the road boys and women overtake me with a 

 few things to sell. Then the woman brings her skulls, in a bag on 

 her back, in excellent condition. I pay her for her trouble. Reach 

 our boat, and the bell on the Bear rings 9.30. 



The bone pile — the sled and dogs and load over the tundra — the 

 woman carrying a native (seal) bag with skulls — will be three rare, 

 indelible pictures. 



On the Bear at 10. A little sandwich, fruit, and a cinnamon cake 

 with coffee, and to bed. But irritating tire-cough keeps me up for 

 another hour. 



Friday, 13th. Packing. A nice day. Toward evening stop at 

 Kevalina. Obtain a few things and pictures. To bed soon, but 

 cough still bothers. I have nothing for it; there is but little on the 

 boat in the way of medicines outside of the most ordinary things. 



Saturday. 14th. Up 5.30, early breakfast, and 6.45 start once more 

 for Kotzebue. The Bear has anchored about 12 miles off, so do not 

 reach village until 8.35, and have to go back at 9.10. Rush to store, 

 get boxes, barrels, and packing. And then to the schoolhouse, where 

 I expect some information about the skeleton found under the house 

 and obtained on my former visit. Also promised information from 

 Mr. Chance, the supervisor, about old sites. But Mr. Chance is gone, 

 and no letter or message — it came later, to Washington. A few 



