The St. Louis Republic., 1903-02-08

New York, Feb. 7.-On clear and bracing
winter morning a trim little woman,
dressed in furs from crown to heel, came out
| of her log house in Council City. Alaska.
! There was sled at the door. to which were
|, harnessed six shaggy Eskimo dogs chatting
and impatient for the start. The driver,
also dressed in heavy furs. smoothed out the
robes for the little woman and bundled her
up 50 that nothing was visible save her
eyes and strapped her securely to the sled
He then took the driving seat, pulled the
deerskins over himself snugly and at the
crack of his long whip the team started at
a lively gait
This was the beginning of the journey of
Miss Frances E. FItz, Deputy United States
Recorder of Council City, mine owner, news
paper proprietor. as well as stenographcr
and typewriter and notary public of the
furthest north mining camp on the Pacific
Coast. who was bound visit to ner
friends in the East. whom she had not seen
Tor three years.
Nome. you know. is 100 miles from Coun-
Gil, and is Il three days trip" said Miss
Fitz In recounting her experiences. When
We got fairly started we We're overtaken by
one OF those terrible storms which are 50
common in Alaska. hurting sharp particles
Of snow and sieet IN our faces ana coming
down so thick that We could not see the
dogs ahead. rne cold was intense many de-
grees below zero.
BLOWN INTO THE SEA.
Trail there was none, but only a track
less waste OF snow and ice. The sled rocked
from side to side. and in spite of the utmost
ward by the winds. Here we avertook a
man who was making his way TO the near
est shelter. With his assistance the driver
managed to keep the trail until a strong
wind blew dogs, sled. driver. man and ali,
rolling them over and over into the sea.
Il thought 1t was good-by that time but
the driver and the dogs managed to scram-
BILE onto the ice again and pull the sled
ashore, the weight of the man on the back
tipping the front up enough to let it slide
for the nearest road house the stranger Sit
ting on my head.
Say. there's woman in there- shouted
keeping his seat the wind howling such a
gale that he could net catch the drivers
words. Time and again the sled turned over
and was righted. We stopped at a road
house. which was nothing more than a hole
In the ground ten feet square and roof
over it. ,,,,,. s,or.oa ,,.. .,.
room for another one.' We made all haste
to the next place, some miles further on
Our wet clothes were frozen like boards.
:. Here's the house. eeid the driver.
"'Where?' 1 asked.
There he replied. pointing to a hole in
Going down a flight of fifteen or twenty
steps out from the frozen snow and form
i2s tunnel. we entered a room about tif-
en 1eet SQUARE. Like the last roadhouse,
this was simply hole in the ground. Here
were twelve men and eighteen dogs. and the
floor was covered with the wet, reeking
straw from the slede,. sending up a nasty
steam as 1t dried out before the fire. Mixed
with the steam were the fumes of tobacco
and the strong smell Of the wet dogs. The
neat OF the place was almost unbearable
being about 120 degrees
HOMELY SHELTER.
After making some chocolate for myself
at the cast ron stoye-zfortevery one pre-
parss hhi own food at such .places-and
cooking the fish and rice for the dogs,
was assigned to one of the four hunks a
man being kind enough to give his up for
ne me. Sleep was out of the question amid
tne snoring or the men, the striking OF
The lamp had been turned down. and in the
dim light one could see the mass of human
arms ana legs mixed in with the eighteen