Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1903-03-19

had gone on until the doctor was
thoroughly overcome and worn out,
and as a last resort he removed his
trousers tied the legs, and, stufffing
the cub inside, where he could neither
bite nor escape, carried him, pick-a-
back into camp. In soft and mellow,
canary bird accents, asked him how
he liked his pet. In answer, he re-
leased the cub, gave him kick, and
turned in to sleep the sleep of the
just after his hard days work.
when we crossed the mountains we
found ourselves In an untrodden will
derness, and from that time forward
travelled by compass. On the approach
of cold weather we abandoned our
pack horses, turning them out to shift
for themselves. | had several reasons
for doing this. One was that we could
not spare the ammunition to kill them,
and another was that | wanted to see
whether they would live through the
Alaskan winter. They were hardy Ore
gon range horses and knew how TO
hustle for food. The spring following,
an Indian who arrived at Fort Gibbon
told me he thought they were all dead,
but another who arrived later said
| tbof ba bod caap thapo ond thot oil
were living and in good condition but
two.
"The amount of game in this almost
uninhabited wilderness fairly took my
breath away. In descending the east
ern slope of the Mckinley range you
can imagine our surprise when we saw
herds of the beautiful Alaskan white
sheep, the owls canadensis DALI,
thousands of which were grazing about
over the mountain side. For two days
we passed through herds of these
beautiful animals, that hardly knew
what the SOUND of gun meant. The
streams were full of beaver and otter,
while bears, moose caribou and grouse
abounded in the woods. We shot a
bull moose that stood twenty hands
high at the withers.
I'VE had covered half the distance
600 miles, by September 10, and dur
ing that entire period we did not see
human being. We were then ragged
and reduced to our last resort of pack
ing our impediments and food on our
backs. For days hunted for signs of
Indians, and at last, on the 10Th,
found one who piloted US into the In
dian village Of Telida. We remained
there two months during which time
| employed the Indians in making
snowshoes, caps and moccasins for the
party, while we spent the time hunt
ing, exploring and making clothing
mitts, socks, etc., out of our horse
blankets. We had plenty to eat, and
rather enjoyed our stay. The streams
Of the interior are full of salmon,
pickerel and whitefsh, and the Indians
understand the art of smoking them to
perfection. A bit of toasted smoked
whitefish or salmon is a very dainty
morsel, assure you.
while we were in Telida one of the
Indians fell i'll, and the medicine man
of several adjoining tribes came over
to hold big medicine dance and cure
him. We were invited to be present.
The patient, who was suffering from
acute indigestion, lay stretched upon
the floor in the center of the lodge,
and around him danced ethe bucks
and medicine men, who would now and
then stoop over him to utter some ex-
orcism. From time to time the med
icine men would beat a drum that
hung from the tent pole, very old
instrument, which the Indians attrib-
uted magical and supernatural powers.
During the performance the Indians,
who had discovered that our surgeon
was the medicine man Of our party,
invited him to beat the drum for the
recovery of the sick man, join in tina
dance, and apply some Of his medicine.
The doctors professional pride rather
rebelled at this, but he accepted the
invitation with good grace, beat the
, drum, Joined the circle Of dancers, and
applied some medicine that resulted in
the sick mans recovery. When this
occurred the Indians attributed It TO
the white medicine man having beaten
the drum.
These Indians are of Athapascan,
and OF the same stock as the Apaches
and Navajos, who centuries ago, before
the coming OF the white man, broke
away from the main branch and mi
grated South. / collected a Vocabu-
larry of their words, and several
Apaches with whom | have since talk
ed understood and recognized many Of
the words as their own when | uttered