by Eowyn Ivey
— That’s it, Colonel. That’s the horns I saw coming out of the clouds, on these monstrous furry beasts, except they were just fog.
Tillman climbed down into the creek bed, inspected the walls.
— Look here, he called out. — Christ!
He had found the animal’s spine bone embedded in the mud, with each separate vertebrae larger than a man’s hand. He tried to pull one of the bones loose but it would not budge.
Pruitt would likely know something of these remains, if only his mind were coherent. He does not speak or acknowledge our presence, but only stumbles along beside us. Then, with no apparent provocation, he bursts out with yells or sobs. It startles & disturbs us all. Several times I have ordered the lieutenant to pull himself together, but it is of no use.
June 28
We have done it! We are through the pass, now look out over the Tanana River Valley.
It is as if we prepare to drop into another world. The rocks & glaciers of the Wolverine Valley here give way to a wide vista with a great number of lakes, braided streams. We emerged from the pass at 3 in the morning, just as the sun rose, not in the east, but almost directly north. It was a grand sight — the sun breaching the distant horizon, the valley spread before us in golden dawn. All of us are euphoric. When Tillman let out a whoop, the dog ran in excited circles around him & barked. Even reserved Nat’aaggi is revived. She has since gone down into a ravine to gather firewood.
It is a tremendous relief. We are not home yet, but the worst hardships are over.
Even with Pruitt’s pathetic state, I am proud of these men. There were many who thought this expedition impossible, to travel up the Wolverine River, to cross this divide into the heart of Alaska. Yet here we stand. We made the long, steady march up from the coast about 500 miles. Ahead of us is yet 1,000 miles to the sea, but we will travel through land charted by white men. We will float at ease down rivers, rather than drag sledges & skin boats up them. There will be trading posts where we will be able to restock our provisions.
We could reach the coast before summer is out.
Between rising sun & Nat’aaggi’s fire, we are well on our way to being drier, warmer & closer to content. Boyo sleeps hard beside the fire, though he kicks & whines in his sleep.
Tillman just took from his coat pocket a small square, wrapped in wax paper & tied with twine with unusual neatness. He set it on his knee.
He asked if anyone cared to guess its content.
None of us answered. Tillman unwrapped it to reveal two bits of chocolate. He broke them into smaller pieces, gave each of us a share.
To taste such sweet flavor after months of unsalted half-raw game, flour paste, wormy rice, & rancid salmon was almost too much for the senses.
— Wooo-eeee, Tillman howled. — I don’t know that I’ve ever tasted anything as good as that. Well, go on Nattie. Aren’t you going to try it?
Eyeing us closely, she at last put the chocolate to her tongue. It brought a look of surprised wonder to her face.
— This is more like it, Tillman said.
The others are drowsing in the sun. All is quiet along this hillside. The only living creature spotted so far this side of the mountain pass was a raven that passed overhead & flew down towards the Tanana Valley.
Part Five
Alaska Indian Man’s Tunic.
Wolverine River Indians, 1885.
Allen Forrester Collection.
Moose hide, sinew threading, decorated with flattened porcupine quills, dentalium shells, river otter fur trim, dye of silverberry seeds and ochre. Adornment suggest the garment was owned by a man of high status. Atypically opened down the front as in the style of a European jacket.
Damage: bullet hole left upper torso, staining front and back.
Oregon Post
A TRIP INTO ALASKA
LIEUT.-COL. FORRESTER EXPLORES WILD NORTHERN RIVER
WASHINGTON, D.C., July 15 — Gen. James Keirn has received the first report from Lieut.-Col. Allen Forrester who this spring left Vancouver Barracks in the Washington Territory to attempt an exploration into the regions of the far North.
“This excels all explorations on the American continent since the time of Lewis and Clark and the world’s record since Livingston,” said the general.
According to the report, carried south by wild Indians and then a mail steamer, Col. Forrester reached the mouth of the Wolverine River more than three months ago, and now follows the river deep into the heart of Alaska. Gen. Keirn says the Colonel and his party plan to cross to the head of a river called the Tanana and then on to the great northern Yukon River. After the nearly 1,000-mile journey to the coast, the party hopes to arrive at St. Michael’s on the Behrings and return via steamer to the United States.
An expedition up the Wolverine River has long been an ambition of brave explorers, even since before Alaska came into the possession of the United States, but the Russians failed each time it was attempted due to hostile Indians and unforgiving terrain. Since then, several explorations by American officers have ended in failure as well, until among Army officials the feat has come to be considered well-nigh impossible.
Col. Forrester is accompanied on his great journey by Lieut. Andrew Pruitt, of Madison, Wisc., and Sgt. Bradley Tillman, of Carbondale, Penn., but the party also relies on Alaska Indian scouts to assist in the expedition.
Lieut. Col. Allen Forrester
June 29, 1885
We were met this day by a scouting part of Tetling River Indians, as we near their village. They were not so surprised to see us as we might expect but instead greeted us warmly. We came to understand that they received advanced reports that we were traveling in their direction.
Happiest news of all, I learned they hold a letter for me that was delivered up the Yukon River by steamboat earlier this summer. I can only hope it is from Sophie. I am anxious to learn of her health and that of the baby.
June 30
Her letter leaves me to wonder, for whom do I write these pages?
July 1
We remain at the Tetling River, tributary of the Tanana. There are four Indian birch-bark houses here, with 35 men, assorted women, children, & dogs.
Many of the Indians are afflicted with severe coughs, other signs of illness, yet they endeavor towards hospitality. We stay at the chief’s house where we are given caribou meat. We eat, then sleep. Pruitt takes some food, has begun to come to his senses, though in the night he often cries out.
Tillman is the strongest of us, in body & spirit. I write here now only because Tillman woke me, helped me to a sitting position, put journal & pencil in my hands.
The day I received it, I crumpled her letter, threw it to the flames of the campfire. I regret it now. Have I misunderstood her words? If I could read it again, would I find something to soothe my anger?
July 2
Our plans to raft down to the Yukon are thwarted. The Indians say it is not possible because of rapids & deadfall, also that there is no salmon to be found in the upper Tanana River. We will need to construct skin boats.
July 3
Tillman & I traveled to a nearby village to secure caribou hides for use in making our boats.
The natives here are well-supplied with guns & ammunition from Fort Reliance. They wear dresses & shirts made of cotton. It seems that most if not all have been converted. Russian Catholic crosses decorate their graves.
When Tillman saw the graves, he made the sign of the cross, said he hopes it keeps the mountain spirits at bay. I had not known he was a religious man. It seems he was raised in the church, though he had fallen away from it.
— All that we’ve seen, Colonel, I figure it’s best to play it safe, he said.
Try as I might, I find nothing to comfort me.
July 4
Construction of the caribou baidarra is nearly finished.
Food is scarce even among Indians. In exchange for their dried arctic pickerel, sucker fish, gray
ling, whitefish, we have traded all our remaining money as well as any items we could spare — pocketknives, garments. Tillman even gave up his trousers in the trade, so is left only to his long underwear.
We have been told that once we reach the Yukon, we will be able to obtain provisions from either the trading post near the confluence with the Tanana or at the home of a missionary who lives in the area with his family.
The Indians warn us, however, to pass as silently as possible through the next stretch of river. It seems the nearby tyone is of a warlike disposition. They say it is likely that we will be killed if we are spotted by his people.
It is Independence Day. When it came to my notice this evening, I informed the men. Tillman insisted on building a bonfire. He then stood solemnly in his long underwear, shot several rounds into the air. We attempted to sing a verse or two of ‘My Country Tis of Thee.’ It was not a rousing performance. The Indians were unimpressed.
July 5
At 6 this morning we launched the boat with myself, Sgt. Tillman, Lieut. Pruitt, Nat’aaggi, & the dog. We paddled 3 hours until we reached the confluence with the Tanana River. Pruitt is still weak but at last coherent. I believe sleep & warm food have served him well, though he still seems uneasy of mind.
We are in a markedly different land from that of the Wolverine Valley. The air is hot. There are no glaciers or rocky cliffs. Instead it is a flat country with rolling hills, mountains only in the farthest distance. Widespread forest fires burn to the north, so the air is filled with smoke. The water in the lakes is stagnant & undrinkable.
The Tanana River is several hundred yards to a mile wide, with muddy water, loamy banks. We travel 3 to 3½ miles per hour.
The lack of salmon does not bode well for our journey, as it may well indicate falls downriver.
July 6
Pruitt shows signs of advanced scurvy. It was brought to my attention when he spat out one of his teeth during our evening meal. Upon further inquiry, I discovered that his legs & torso are covered with large blackish lesions.
I have no doubt as to the cause. In addition to scarce & poor-quality food, we have worn the same clothes since March 20 & suffered extreme exposure. Our doses of acetic acid have been ineffective. His corresponding lack of appetite only worsened his condition. All this accounts a great deal for his past weeks of malaise perhaps even his unsound mental state.
July 7
I aimed to shoot the raven.
It would not leave us be, but circled & squawked overhead. I fired a half dozen bullets from my carbine, but none met its target. The men do not understand, but I know who the raven is.
I would have liked to watch the bird plummet to the earth.
I want only sleep. It is a forgiving oblivion.
As written by Lieutenant Colonel Allen Forrester
July 6, 1885
I here put down this record of confession. On the 28th of June 1885, I threatened Lieutenant Andrew Pruitt with pistol.
We descended from Tebay Peak on our way to the Tetling when the lieutenant lay down upon the ground and refused to rise. With no food left in our possession and no means to obtain any in the immediate area, we were in no position to set camp. I advised the lieutenant that we should continue the day’s march to the river with hopes of finding natives from whom to obtain food.
Still the lieutenant refused to rise. I ordered Sergeant Bradley Tillman to assist me in lifting the lieutenant to his feet. I hoped the two of us together retained enough strength to enable us to travel in such a way to the river.
At this time, the lieutenant forcefully withdrew from our aid and again lay upon the ground. I advised him that if he had strength enough to resist us, he had strength enough to walk. At this time I drew my pistol and aimed it at his head. I told him I would shoot him as a deserter if he did not rise. The lieutenant did not come to his feet, at which point I cocked the gun. I then proceeded to fire a bullet into the ground near the lieutenant’s head. Sergeant Tillman at this point interceded, pulled Lieutenant Pruitt to his feet and began to forcefully march him down the hillside. The sergeant then suggested that I return my pistol to my holster.
It is my firm belief that as commander of this expedition, I failed to maintain proper composure. I allowed anger to impinge my judgment. I did not observe the lieutenant’s failing health or deteriorating mental state. I am at fault and hereby take responsibility.
Lieutenant-Colonel Allen Forrester
Lieut. Col. Allen Forrester
July 8, 1885
A pair of Canada geese with goslings on shore. The five young are downy gray but begin to grow their pin feathers. They forage in the grass even as we float by in our skin boat.
It is the mother, I presume, who follows after the young. Her head held high on her long, slender neck. White paint down her cheeks. Round eyes. They shine black.
The male watches us. On guard.
Though we are near starving, I would not allow the men to kill them.
I thought I heard a woman call from her black beak.
I am unwell.
Lieut. Col. Allen Forrester
July 9, 1885
This isnt the Colonel but its Sgt Bradley Tillman that wrights here.
Colonel is sick as a dog. Hes burnin with fever an I dont know much what to do about it cept Nattie washes him in the river an the lutenant gives him some asprin pills.
I havnt read watever the Colonel wrights in his little books ever day. Thats his own. I mearley wright here so that thers counting for watever comes next. I dont like it much atall that the Colonel might die as hes a good man best kind there is. Hes the one who spurs us on, keeps us livin even when thers no food to speak of. He might loose his temper now an then but all good men do so.
We know hed like us to move on down the river so we keep at it tho the bugs are bad bitin an when we rapp the Colonel in his sleepin bag hes awful hot. We try an not make much noise threw here as this is the land of the bad tyone. We hope not to meet up with him.
So thats all for today. I pray its the Colonel that wrights here next. Its cleer an hot an the river is slow.
Durned glad the lutenant is on the mend as I dont care to be the lone able body & mind. I never was any good at wrightin. I am sorry for the speling mis-takes. I askd Pruitt to help me but hes sick of spellin words out lowd an he doesnt want to wright in the Colonels book cept I think we awt to.
July 11
Its Sgt Tillman here agin. The Colonel isnt better yet so I wright agin.
We tried not to but we got found by the Indians while we were floatin by in the dark of the night. Lucky we had Nattie hide in the bushes when we heard their gun shots so I hope shes safe with the boat. The Indians marched us away from the river. They didnt talk much an carried their guns at ready wich made me & the lutenant nervis. We had to help the Colonel walk an he was too feverd to know what happend. We awt to have taken the Indian jacket off the Colonel but we forgot. The Indians took us 10 miles or so into the woods away from the river then brot us into the chiefs house.
We ate an slept an ate more. All the time more an more Indians come to see us white people. They kept pointin at the Colonel’s jacket.
The Indians look sickly. Theres lots of couffin. The lutenant says they have consumptin.
Dear Mrs. Forrester —
First, to address your question, the frilling you describe may be in part due to the exceptionally warm weather we have enjoyed of late. I recommend hardening the negative with a good long soak in alum and water.
Now let me say that your most recent photographs are truly remarkable, though you disparage them. The three young chickadees all in a row on the branch is most affecting, and while the pine siskin is not entirely in focus, it is a wonderful depiction of Nature all the same.
I hope you do not find this too forward, but would you mind terribly if I sent these prints on to a Mr. William Powell? He is an editor in Philadelphia and has long been a friend to me. I do not know if he will have any use
for the photographs, as the sciences are not his normal subject matter, but I cannot help but to feel that these deserve a wider audience.
Sincerely,
Mr. Henry Redington
Sophie Forrester
Vancouver Barracks
June 27, 1885
Does he really see such value in my photographs? I am astonished, and not a little intimidated, by the prospect of Mr Redington sharing them with an editor.
I know Mother would not approve of my vanity, but all the same, I did a little skip of joy when Mr Redington’s letter arrived. And then I wrote back to say that I would be truly honored, but I also begged him to wait just a while longer with hopes that I might contribute some better photographs.
June 28
Miss Evelyn, as always, you are as much blessing as aggravation!
The sight of her running down the lane toward my house concerned me at first, but then it occurred to me that she is no Mrs Connor; when there is misery to be endured, Evelyn can be sure to flee in the opposite direction. I therefore could not fathom what brought her in such haste.
She was out of breath and disheveled when she arrived at the porch.
“I’ve found it, Sophie! I’ve found it!”
It seems she was out for a walk with Lieutenant Harvey, down through the orchard and near the river’s edge, when she first saw it.
“They buzz about like giant bumblebees, don’t they? One of them flew straight past us, and I ran after it, for I thought it might be your bird. For a while, I could not see it, but then I heard its loud buzzing again and saw it fly into a thicket, and there I found it, sitting in a little gray pouch on a branch.”
Before she could say much more, I had laced my boots and retrieved my straw hat and field glasses.
“What about your camera?”
I told her I would fetch it later. In truth, I was not quite ready to believe this stroke of good fortune.