Part 40 (2/2)
Kadiak Island is a hundred miles long by about forty in width. Its relief is comparatively low--from three to five thousand feet--and it has many broad, open valleys, gently rounded slopes, and wooded dells.
Lisiansky was told that the Kadiak group of islands was once separated from the Aliaska Peninsula by the tiniest ribbon of water. An immense otter, in attempting to swim through this pa.s.s, was caught fast and could not extricate itself. Its desperate struggles for freedom widened the pa.s.s into the broad sweep of water now known as the Straits of Shelikoff, and pushed the islands out to their present position. This legend strengthens the general belief that the islands were once a part of the peninsula, having been separated therefrom by one of the mighty upheavals, with its attendant depression, which are constantly taking place.
A native myth is that the original inhabitants were descended from a dog. Another legend is to the effect that the daughter of a great chief north of the peninsula married a dog and was banished with her dog-husband and whelps. The dog tried to swim back, but was drowned, his pups then falling upon the old chief and, having torn him to pieces, reigning in his stead.
In 1791 Shelikoff reported the population of Kadiak Island to be fifty thousand, the exaggeration being for the purpose of enhancing the value of his operations. In 1795 the first actual census of Kadiak showed eighteen hundred adult native males, and about the same number of females. To-day there are probably not five hundred.
I have visited Kadiak Island in June and in July. On both occasions the weather was perfect. Clouds that were like broken columns of pearl pushed languorously up through the misty gold of the atmosphere; the long slopes of the hillside were vividly green in the higher lights, but sank to the soft dark of dells and hollows; here and there shone out acres of brilliant bloom.
To one climbing the hill behind the village, island beyond island drifted into view, with blue water-ways winding through velvety labyrinths of green; and, beyond all, the strong, limitless sweep of the ocean. The winds were but the softest zephyrs, touching the face and hair like rose petals, or other delicate, visible things; and, the air was fragrant with things that grow day and night and that fling their splendor forth in one riotous rush of bloom. Shaken through and through their perfume was that thrilling, indescribable sweetness which abides in vast s.p.a.ces where snow mountains glimmer and the opaline palisades of glaciers s.h.i.+ne.
It is a view to quicken the blood, and to inspire an American to give silent thanks to G.o.d that this rich and peerlessly beautiful country is ours.
After the transfer, the village of Kodiak was the headquarters of the Alaska Commercial Company and the Western Fur and Trading Company. The former company still maintains stores and warehouses at this point. The house in which the manager resides occupies a commanding site above the bay. It is historic and commodious, and large house-parties are entertained with lavish hospitality by Mr. and Mrs. Goss, visitors gathering there from adjacent islands and settlements.
There are dances, ”when the boats are in,” in which the civilized native girls join with a kind of repressed joy that reminds one of New England.
They dress well and dance gracefully. Their soft, dark glances over their partners' shoulders haunt even a woman dreamily. A century's silently and gently borne wrongs smoulder now and then in the deep eyes of some beautiful, dark-skinned girl.
Kodiak is clean. One can stand on the hills and breathe.
For several years after the transfer a garrison of United States troops was stationed there. Bridges were built across the streams that flow down through the town, and culverts to drain the marshes. Many of these improvements have been carelessly destroyed with the pa.s.sing of the years, but their early influence remains.
So charming and so idyllic did this island seem to the Russians that it was with extreme reluctance they moved their capital to Sitka when the change was considered necessary.
We were rowed by native boys across the satiny channel to Wood Island, where Reverend C. P. Coe conducts a successful Baptist Orphanage for native children. Mr. Coe was not at home, but we were cordially received by Mrs. Coe and three or four a.s.sistants. Wood Island, or Woody, as it was once called, is as lovely as Kadiak; the site for the buildings of the Orphanage being particularly attractive, surrounded as it is by groves and dells.
There was a pale green, springlike freshness folded over the gently rolling hills and hollows that was as entrancing as the first green mist that floats around the leafing alders on Puget Sound in March.
The Orphanage was established in 1893 by the Woman's American Baptist Home Mission Society of Boston, and the first child was entered in that year. Mr. Coe a.s.sumed charge of the Orphanage in 1895, and about one hundred and thirty children have been educated and cared for under his administration. They have come from the east as far as Kayak, and from the west as far as Unga. At present there is but one other Baptist Mission field in Alaska--at Copper Centre.
The purpose of the work is to provide a Christian home and training for the dest.i.tute and friendless; to collect children, that they may receive an education; and to give industrial training so far as possible.
There were forty-two children in the home at the time of our visit, and there was a full complement of helpers in the work, including a physician.
The regular industrial work consists of all kinds of housework for the girls. Everything that a woman who keeps house should know is taught to these girls. The boys are taught to plough and sow, to cultivate and harvest the crops, to raise vegetables, to care for stock and poultry.
Twenty-five acres are under cultivation, and the hardier grains and vegetables are grown with fair success.
Potatoes yield two hundred and fifty bushels to the acre; and barley, forty bushels. Cattle and poultry thrive and are of exceeding value, fresh milk and vegetables being better than medicines for the welfare of the children. Angora goats require but little care and yield excellent fleece each year.
The most valuable features of the work are the religious training; the furnis.h.i.+ng of a comfortable home, warm clothing, clean and wholesome food of sufficient quant.i.ty, to children who have been rescued from vice and the most repulsive squalor; the atmosphere of industry, cleanliness, kindness, and love; and the medical care furnished to those who may be suffering because of the vices of their ancestors.
This excellent work is supported by offerings from the Baptist Sunday Schools of New England, and by contributions from the society with the yard-long name by which it was established.
We were offered most delicious ginger-cake with nuts in it and big goblets of half milk and half cream; and we were not surprised that the shy, dark-skinned children looked so happy and so well cared for. We saw their schoolrooms, their play rooms, and their bedrooms, with the little clean cots ranged along the walls.
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