AFLOAT AND AFOOT IN ALASKA 
WANDERING IN THE NORTHLAND WHEN SPRING HAS 
.JUST RELEASED THE ICE-BOUND FETTERS OF WINTER 
By EDWARD F. BALL 
Dawson City, looking up the Yukon River 
T he long 
winter at 
Dawson was 
over. The 
Yukon River had 
broken and for 
several days had 
been pouring its 
brown flood, laden 
with great cakes of 
ice and trunks of 
spruce trees, to¬ 
ward the Bering 
Sea. Somewhere 
down the river, in 
sheltered sloughs, 
the steamers had 
wintered, and as 
soon as the run of 
ice should be over 
would bring up 
their cargoes of 
freight. 
Having spent 
the previous sum¬ 
mer as purser on 
one of the Alaska 
Commercial Co.'s 
steamers plying 
between Dawson 
and St. Michael’s Island, in the Bering 
Sea, I was determined to blossom out 
into a full-fledged river pilot, and was 
waiting until the river should be nearly 
clear of ice before starting down-sti earn 
in a tiny birch-bark canoe to meet one 
of the upcoming steamers, perhaps at 
Circle City, 273 miles below. This 
canoe was the smallest size in use by the 
Indians, thirteen inches in width at the 
bottom and about twenty-four inches 
beam at the gunwales, tapering to a 
sharp point each way from the middle. 
Mv outfit was simple: provisions, a 
pair'of blankets, rifle, shotgun, ammu¬ 
nition, a hunting knife, a few small 
cooking utensils, extra clothing and an 
old stew-pan containing pitch with which 
to calk the seams in the canoe. 
It was late afternoon before the river 
seemed sufficiently clear of ice to warrant 
a safe start. My friends bade me a sol¬ 
emn farewell, for they candidly admitted 
that they did not believe I would make it. 
Twelve miles down-stream was an 
Indian camp that I desired to visit so 
I kept well to the right bank instead ot 
taking the steamboat channel further 
out. *A short distance above the Indian 
camp was an island, and between this 
island and the bank a narrow channel, 
too shallow for large boats, but ample 
for my tiny craft. As this channel af¬ 
forded a short cut to the camp I took it. 
Narrower and narrower it grew. The 
sun, low on the horizon ahead, dazzled 
my eyes so that it was impossible to see 
more than a couple of hundred yards in 
advance. Great cakes of ice were drawn 
into this congested opening and neces¬ 
sitated constant attention to avoid being 
caught between them. A roaring, as of 
rushing waters in a rapid filled the air, 
but I knew there were no rapids and 
felt no alarm. 
Suddenly, at a bend in the channel 
where for a moment I could see some 
distance ahead, there appeared a long, 
rocky point jutting out from the main¬ 
land .on the right, and on the left, a reef 
leading out from the island had collected 
a mass of ice, leaving a narrow opening 
between, through which the water 
poured as through a funnel. It was too 
late to turn.- Around me great cakes 
of ice were converging. My only course 
was to keep the canoe bow on. Just be¬ 
fore reaching the narrowest point, two 
cakes of ice came together, catching the 
canoe between them. There was a sick¬ 
ening, cracking sound and the tiny craft 
was lifted to the top of one of the cakes 
and left there. The trunk of a spruce 
tree with upturned roots swept along 
and I grasped the roots hoping to be sus¬ 
tained in case the canoe should be over¬ 
turned. 
The current dragged the tree away 
and I was obliged to let go my hold just 
as we swept over a miniature fall. Then 
the channel widened, the ice cakes sepa¬ 
rated and I was left sitting in my canoe 
stranded on top of the floating ice. The 
camp was but a short distance below. 
If I failed to reach it the current would 
sweep me out into mid-stream and as 
long as the ice held together I would 
be safe, but if it should sink, could my 
canoe, crushed 
and cracked as il 
was, remain afloal 
until I could read 
shore ? Carefull) 
I worked the canot 
off the ice side 
ways with my pad 
die. How I kep 
from capsizing ] 
do not know, bu 
the Deity t h a 
looks after fool 
and children mus 
have protected me 
Then came th 
most trying mo 
ment of all. Th 
canoe, once mor 
afloat, leaked bad 
ly. It was a rac 
against time t 
reach shore befor 
foundering. Neve 
did my p a d d 1 
work so furioush 
The water boile 
with every strok 
but by the time th 
ice at the edge c 
the bank was reached I was sitting i 
two inches of water. 
But my troubles were not over, fc 
along shore were great masses of broke 
ice, nearly all of the pieces too small t 
bear my weight. Finding a large cal 
I threw out as much of my cargo as 
could reach and landed, d hen it was a 
easy matter to drag the canoe out ar 
carrv it to the solid ice along shor 
The'lndians helped me to their camp ar 
patched up the breaks where the ice ha 
punctured the bark, and the pitch in tl 
old stew-pan made everything tight. 
Back of the camp was a pond of op( 
water where a few teal had congregat< 
and some of these afforded the first fre 
meat I had tasted for several wee! 
while a little tea and sugar repaid tl 
Indians for mending the canoe. 
F ORTY MILE POST, 53 miles bek 
Dawson, was reached without furth 
mishap and here I left nearly all my oi 
fit and started on foot across the divi 
to visit my friend George Holliday 1 
Dome Creek. Any enthusiast on t 
subject of “going light” would ha 
viewed with approval my outfit whi 
consisted of a little grub, a small she 
steel frying-pan, a tin pail and a toma 
can with a wire hail for a coffee pot, 
done up in a piece of muslin and c: 
ried in pack straps. Of course, I c; 
ried my rifle, ammunition, matches a 
hunting knife, but took no axe, blanke 
tent fly or other covering. 
Shortly after leaving Forty- M 
River I ran onto a large black he 
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