The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1903-12-30
AN ARCTIC CAMPERS TALE.
Experience In the Frozen North That
Calls for Hardness and Pres
ence of Mind.

awoke one morning almost suffo-
Gated, writes Andrew ]. Stone, in his
article in Scribners on Camp Life in
Attic America" The Tent had blown
| down on top of us and the snow was
| drifting hard upon top of that and a
storm was raging with fury beyond
description. Arousing my companions
we managed. with difficulty, to get out
| of our bags and from beneath the heavy
mass of snow and canvas. We always
slept in our deerskin suits, and this
was very fortunate, for we only had to
slip on our big bur mittens, which we
kept inside our sleeping bags to keep
from freezing, and we were ready for
the worst. The wind struck us with a
force that made it difficult for us to
stand, the atmosphere was so full of
flying snow that we could scarcely see,
and the roar of the storm was so great
that we could not hear each other
speak. The sound of it was exactly
that of the wind and water during
heavy storm at sea.
The only sign could find of my sled
| dogs would be when l would stumble
over mound of snow and discover
| there was dog inside of it. At such
| time a practical knowledge of how to
| do things saves many life. The snow
| of these regions is always hard, packed
| by the winds, and we set to work with
axes cutting and carrying huge blocks
of it and building walls with them
| around our camp. For three hours we
worked with all our might, building
heavy walls on three sides until they
were almost as high as our heads. Then
we cleaned the snow off the top of the
tent and once more erected that and
made it fast. Then we dragged out
| our bedding and deerskin rug and
shook the snow out of them and re-
arranged the camp inside. Luckily we
had prepared a lot of wood the evening
| before, and the stove was soon again in
place and fire going.
| The one great break in the monotony
of the whole year along the Arctic
coast is the coming of the birds in the
spring-the nature of it is almost v:o-
lent. The last Of May they begin to
arrive. The notes of the first few COM
ers are musical, and buoy one with
feeling of messages from home and
friends. But the stream of birds rapid
ly grows. and the few first joyous notes
merge into a ceaseless, hideous, dis
tracing din, that Tobs one of his rest,
and for few days becomes unbearable
Swans, cranes. geese, brant, ducks,
| Sulls and terms swoop down upon the
coast by thousands. The old birds are
delighted at the sight of the ola family
nesting ground and the young ones at
reaching once more their birthplace,
and the thousands of them are all
talking and screaming at the same
time. The contrast of the now endless
days of sunshine and abundant and
animated life, with that of the still
Arctic night, is very great.
In few days, however, each happy
family has settled down in its own lit
tie home, and quietude reigns supreme
through the short summer, and then
again sets in the long solitudinous
night.
| Many interesting things may be
| learned of the birds that annually visit
the Arctic coast for the purpose of
bringing up their families; Of their
reasons for going there, and of the in
telligence displayed by them in many
ways. They have not the enemies they
have farther south. The fox is very
nearly their only foe, and they find so
many ways of avoiding it, that it wculd
surely so very hungry Were it depend
ent on birds for food. Little islands in
lakes and streams that are free from
foxes become great nesting PLACES, and
the birds swarm to them until, ON
many of them, every available spa,a
suitable for nesting is preemptied.