The Cordova daily times., 1922-03-24

HAS PLEASANT EXPERIENCES
 IN NORTHLAND

Some unknown friend sent the Daily Times a clipping from the Bay-Island News, published at Gig Harbor, Wash, in which former resident of Me ECarthy, Mrs. John Baltuff, gives the following interesting account of her experience in this northland, under the caption of Alaska AS Have Known It.
 About ten years ago, in the middle of January, I took my first trip to Alaska. Of course, cannot be called real "old-timer," as many had lived there 20 years or more before that time; but I went up during the Shu- shana rush, so I had all of the ex- perience of life in new camp. MT. Baltuff had gone to Mccarthy, the new terminal town of the Copper River Railroad, five months earlier to build our house and get things ready When I received word to come I was all an ticipation, for was going now to join the ranks of "sourdoughs" in that land of magic lure, Alaska, whose very name conjures up visions of wealth, of fame and adventure par excellence Were my anticipations realized? Many times over. And although am now liv- ing far from her shores, my heart thrills with joy and pride as I sing to myself our song, Alaska, My Alaska and am glad my little girl is real "Sourdough," born at Mccarthy, Alaska, when the temperature was 60 below zero.
 "In good weather the trip to Alaska, up the inside passage, is one of sur passing beauty. A brief description is all that space will permit: The Alaska boats usually leave Seattle at 9 or 10:30 p. m., so the passengers awake the next morning to find them selves well out to sea-. At this time the steamboat companies do not al low ones friends to either greet you at the pier or to see you off on your journey back; but when I went up Alaskans were permitted to go with their friends out to the pier and onto the boat itself and hundreds of Alas kans living in Seattle was always on hand to welcome those coming down and give bon voyage to those going back to Alaska-'home again. as we say. Almost everyone knew each other, and such babel of greetings and hand-shaking and messages and words to be taken to those up North, and loving words and promises to those left behind "until we meet again." you never say. At last, all the freight is loaded. the whistle blows, the last visitor aboard hurries off lest he be caught aboard, and the deck lined black with Alaskans, and the piers mass of waving hands and handkerchiefs, throwing kisses, good, byes. and bon voyage to friends and loved ones, the boat casts loose from her moorings and with purr and rip pie of water against her bows, starts on her northward journey, to the song of Alaska, My Alaska Laughter and tears are mingled as these last adieus are made and those good-byes, be- tween Alaskans going home and Alas kans left behind, were indeed wonder full and thrilling.
 q went upon Captain O'Brien's boat. the Mariposa now sunk. Captain OBrien is an Alaskan of Alaskans, and will always have a fond place in the memory of the hundreds of Alas kans who have travelled on his boat, for the good-fellowship and hospitality shown to all aboard.
 "Next week I will tell you what can of the different little towns we stopped at on the way to Cordova, from whence we went by rail to Nc Carthy, Alaska"