FTER thinking for some time of doing so, I finally decided to call at the hotel and ask the captain and his wife if I might not teach their little black-eyed girl English, as Miss J.'s leaving deprives her of a teacher. The woman was not in when I called, but the child's father seemed to think favorably of my plan, and said he would consult with his wife, so I hope to get the child for a pupil.

B. and G. have moved all their things into the house from the schoolroom, and Ricka hung the clothes she has been all day washing out there to dry. There is a small stove in which a fire is often made to dry them more quickly. It is most convenient to have such a place for drying clothes, as it is impossible to get them dry outside on the lines in the frost and snow.

We spent the evening pleasantly together in the sitting room, listening to B.'s jokes, and Mary's stories of Nome and the "trail."

For our Thanksgiving dinner we had canned turkey, potatoes, tomatoes, pickles, fruit, soup, bread, butter, and coffee, trying hard not to think of our home friends and their roast turkeys and cranberries. However, the dinner was a good one for Alaska, eaten with relish, and all were jolly and very thankful, even M., with his sore collar-bone, laughing with the rest.

November thirtieth: Mr. H. came with a man, two natives, seven reindeer and four sleds to take more furniture away. They all ate dinner here, and I took some kodak views of the animals with Alma, Ricka, Mary, G. and a native driver in the sunshine in front of the Mission. Mary goes up to the animals and pets them, as does Ricka, but I keep a good way off from their horns, as they look ugly, and one old deer has lost his antlers, with the exception of one bare, straight one a yard long, which, with an angry beast behind it, would, however, be strong enough to toss a person in mid-air if the creature was so minded.

There has been some hitch in the arrangements of the men going to the Koyuk River, and there is a delay, but they will get off some day, because L. never gives up anything he attempts to do, and I like him for that. If more people were like this, they being always certain that they were started in the right direction, the world would be the better for it.

December first: Mr. B. is making bunks in two rooms upstairs, as the house is so full all the time. This will give quite a little more lodging room, for cots cannot be provided for all, neither is there room for so many, but with bunks, one above another, it will furnish lodgings for all who come.

Our two fisher women went out again this afternoon, and got tom-cod through the ice by the cliff, near the snow-buried river steamers.

About four o'clock in the afternoon I called on the captain's wife, and found her sewing furs. For her helper she had her cousin Alice, the coy, plump Eskimo girl, who traveled to San Francisco with her last year. Both women sat upon fur rugs on the floor, as is their custom when sewing, and they were sorting bright beads, and cutting moosehide into moccasins and gauntlet gloves, to be decorated with beads in the fashion of the Yukon River Indians.

I had no difficulty in arranging for lessons with the captain's wife, who would also study with her little girl, she said, and she showed me school books, slates, etc., they had already been using. If their piano were only here, the child, who is a pretty little thing, with a sweet smile, might take music lessons, but it cannot be brought over the winter trail.

We had snow today, but no church service. We rested, sang, read, ate and slept. A fine dinner of reindeer roast, with good gravy, mashed potatoes, etc., for our two o'clock meal, was eaten and well relished; but in spite of all the day seemed a long one for some reason. We wonder how things are going on the outside and if the friends we love but cannot hear from are well, happy, and think sometimes of us.

The Commissioner came to say that he would bring the Recorder, or Commissioner, from the Koyuk district with him to call this evening, and he did so. The latter is a middle-aged man, whose family lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota, he himself being a native born Norwegian, but having lived in the States for twenty years. They brought two United States marshals with them, and one of them played on the guitar quite well, though I thought I detected a scent of the bottle when he sang his songs. He has a good voice, but untrained.

Yesterday it was fifteen degrees below zero, but grew warmer toward night, and began snowing. Today it snowed quite hard until dark. Along the shore huge blocks of ice lay heaped promiscuously, and deep drifts rolled smoothly everywhere. When I grew tired walking I stopped a moment and listened. There was no sound but the beating of my own heart. This then was our new Arctic world. How wonderfully beautiful it was in its purity and stillness. Look whichever way I would, all was perfect whiteness and silence. When I walked the snow scarcely creaked under my feet. Above, beneath, around, it was everywhere the same. It was a solemn stillness, but ineffably sweet and tender. It was good to live. A feeling of sweetest peace and happiness swept over me, and tears sprang to my eyes. Was this heaven? It almost seemed like it, but glancing toward the grave of the murdered man on the hillside I remembered that this could not be. Farther down the shore line, when I started to go home, I saw the smoke of the cabins, through the veil of the snowflakes.

While giving Jennie her lessons this afternoon the Commissioner came in to say that he would like me to do some copying for him, for as yet he has no clerk, and needs one. I told him I would do the work if I might take it home, and could get a quiet corner by myself. I hardly see how I am to manage that while there are so many people in the house, but I shall try it, for I would like to earn the money.

This morning it was three degrees above zero; yesterday it was fifteen below.

A full moon hung high in the sky this morning until nine o'clock. Weather is warm and beautiful, with rosy clouds at sunrise, but it grew colder by noon.

Among other things Mary has brought from Nome is her little hand sewing machine, which is an old-fashioned thing, to be fastened to a table and the wheel turned by hand. It was brought from the old country, and looks quite well worn, but is still useful and far better than no machine, if it does have a chain stitch which is liable to rip easily. We have a lot of amusement with this machine, for when Alma is sewing and one of the boys happens to be idle about her she makes him turn the wheel while she guides the cloth and watches the needle.

Others besides myself are wearing muckluks by this time, though not all have come to them, the felt shoes being worn in the house some by the girls until severe cold forces them into the native boots of reindeer skin.

In her rooms at the hotel Mollie sits with Alice each day on the fur rugs, cutting, sewing and beading moccasins and moosehide gloves. A regular workshop it is. Boxes of thread, beads, scraps of fur, whole otter skins, paper patterns, shears, bits of hair and fur scattered upon the floor, and the walls covered with hanging fur garments; this is the sewing-room of the captain's wife as it is now each day when I go there. The room contains two large windows, one on the north side and one on the west, at which hang calico curtains tied back with blue ribbons in daytime. These women work very rapidly, with the thimble upon the first finger and by pushing the three-cornered skin needle deftly through skins they are sewing. The thread they use for this work is made by them from the sinews of reindeer, and takes hours of patient picking and rolling between fingers and palms to get spliced and properly twisted, but when finished is very strong and lasting. Their sewing and bead work is quite pretty and unique, and is done with exceeding neatness and care, though not much attention is bestowed upon colors.

Friday, December seventh, has been a busy day all round. L. and B. started off early after breakfast on a prospecting trip, and the girls kept at their sewing. Mr. H. came from the Home to get the sewing machine and some lumber, and was packing up nearly all day, so that we are still quite unsettled, but it is much pleasanter for him to come to a warm house and where he gets hot meals after his twelve miles over the ice with the deer or dogs.

He left here at four in the afternoon and had been gone only an hour when Mr. F. and another man came from Nome, on the way to the Koyuk. Getting well warmed and eating a hearty supper, which was much enjoyed after some days on the trail, they started with two reindeer and as many sleds for the Home, which is on the way to Koyuk. Another hour passed and two women and their guide from White Mountain came in, these belonging to the same party as the last men going to the Koyuk, and these three had to remain over night as it was too late to push on further. The men brought their fur robes and blankets from their sleds, threw them into the bunks in the west room, and called it a good lodging place compared to the cramped and disorderly roadhouses upon the trails.

December eighth: We had a fire fright this morning, which was not enjoyed by any one in the Mission. Mary had gotten up early, and two fires were already going, one in the kitchen range and one in the sitting room heater near my bed. It was still dark at half-past seven and I was awake, thinking seriously of dressing myself, though there was no hurry, for Mary was the only one yet up, when I saw a shower of large sparks of fire or burning cinders falling to the ground outside the window. I rushed into the kitchen telling Mary what I had seen, and she ran outside and looked up toward the chimney. Fire, smoke and cinders poured out in a stream, but she satisfied herself it was soot burning in the sitting-room chimney.

Coming in, she pulled most of the wood from the heater, scattered salt upon the coals, and by this time all in the house were down stairs, asking what had happened.

M. says he will also take my attorney paper and stake a claim for me, as he has decided to go to the Koyuk with the men who came last night from Nome. They have a horse, but as it is almost worn to the bone and nearly starved, they hardly think he can travel much farther. M. wants me to get him some location notices from the Commissioner when I see him. When coming home from Jennie's lesson this afternoon I was turning the corner of the hotel when the wind took me backward toward the bay for thirty feet or more, and deposited me against an old wheelbarrow turned bottom upwards in the snow. To this I clung desperately, keeping my presence of mind enough to realize my danger if blown out upon the ice fifty feet away and below me, where I would be unable to make myself either seen or heard in the blinding storm and would soon be buried in the snow drifts and frozen.

In my right hand I carried my small leather handbag containing a dozen or more deeds and other documents to be recorded for the Commissioner, and if the wind blew this from my hand for an instant I was surely undone, for it would never be recovered. I now clung to the barrow until I had regained my breath and then made a quick dash for the lee or south side of the hotel out of the gale, and into the living-room again. Here I sat down to rest, trembling and breathless, to consider the best way to get home. It was now dark, the snow blinding, and the gale from the northeast fearful. A stout young Eskimo sat near me, and I finally asked him to take me home, to which he consented.

The Mission was only a few hundred feet away, but to reach it we had to go directly into the teeth of the storm, which was coming from the northeast.

Not six feet ahead of us could we see, but I trusted to the sense of my Eskimo guide to lead me safely home, and he did it. Motioning me to follow him, he proceeded to pass through the building and out the east end entrance, notwithstanding that he led me directly through the bar-room of the hotel, where the idlers stared wonderingly at me. Once outside the door, he grasped my right arm firmly and we started, but he kept his body a little ahead of me, and with side turned from the blizzard instead of facing it.

In this sidelong way we struggled on with all our strength, through snow drifts, against the elements in the darkness, with breath blown from our bodies, and eyes blinded by whirling snow. Now and again I was forced to stop to gain breath for a fresh struggle, and when we reached the Mission we staggered into the door as if drunken. I now found that all my clothing was blown so full of fine snow that the latter seemed fairly a part of the cloth, would not be shaken out, and only a thorough drying would answer. A good, hot cup of coffee was handed to each of us, and my Eskimo guide sat until rested, but I think I shall take Alma's sage advice, and in future remain at home during blizzards.

Of course M. and the other men could not leave for the Koyuk as they intended, but they do not appear to be discontented at having to remain under our roof longer, as they seem to be enjoying themselves very well, and say it is all really home-like here in the Mission.

I am working on the Recorder's books, and like the work fairly well.

This is a stormy Sunday, December ninth, but the weather is not so bad as yesterday, and B. and L. came back from the Home. We have eight men here today, including the two young fellows who have been at work on the Home building, and who came over from Nome weeks before the rest of us. This is the first time they have been here since we arrived. They, too, are Swedes, as are all these men but M., who is a Finlander.

For dinner we had reindeer roast with flour gravy, potatoes, plum butter, rye and white bread and butter, coffee and tapioca pudding. The potatoes taste pretty sweet from being frozen, but are better than none. We have had music from the guitar, mandolin and organ, besides vocal exercise without limit, and with all this I found time to do some Sunday reading in Drummond's Year Book, and have well enjoyed the day.

The thermometer registers thirteen degrees below zero, and at half-past eight in the evening the wind was not blowing much; enough blizzard for this time certainly.

While talking with one of the men from Nome I asked if he supposed there was gold in the Koyuk country, and he thought there was. As he was up there all last summer, he ought to know the prospects. It appears that there is a split in his party, or a disagreement of some kind, as is quite the fashion in Alaska, and some of the men are to remain behind. As soon as the weather clears sufficiently they will go to the Home, and from there leave for Koyuk River.

Monday, December tenth: The Commissioner, the Marshal, and three of their friends came in to spend the evening with us, and one of the strangers sang well, accompanying himself on the organ. He also belongs to a party made up to go to Koyuk, but failed to reach that point, and they are staying in Chinik.

I bought two red fox skins today for ten dollars, but will have to pay five dollars more for their cleaning by a native woman, to whom I have given them for that purpose. It is the only kind of fur I can find of which to make a coat, and I must have one of skins, as the wind goes straight through cloth, no matter how thick it is.

Six of our household went out today to get wood with the old horse and sled, but the poor creature would not go, probably because it could not. They had to unload a good many times and were gone five hours. Alma and Ricka went with the four boys for an outing, but all came home tired and voting the horse a great failure.

This morning our house was astir very early, and the men were getting ready to "mush on" towards the Koyuk. Mr. L. goes with the Marshal, the clerk, and two others, taking seven dogs and sleds loaded with provisions. It is a sight to see the preparations. There are sacks of frozen tom-cod for the dogs, tents, Yukon stoves, tin dishes, snow shoes, sleeping bags and robes, coffee pots, axes, picks, gold pans and boxes, cans and bags of grub, ad infinitum.

G. and B. stay behind to make another camp stove but will leave soon for Nome. B. cleaned his gun today, and looked after his ammunition.

Two of the boys from the Home spent the night in the Mission, and helped with sawing wood all forenoon today. They went from Nome to assist at building the Home, and came over here for the first time yesterday. They are jolly fellows, and used often to assist us in the "Star" at Nome, one always lightening our load of work by his cheery voice and pleasant, hopeful smile. He, too, is a sweet singer, and a great favorite with all. After a lunch they started to mush back to the Home over the ice, promising to come again at Christmas. B. and G. finally got started on their long, cold trip to Nome on business.