Having said all that, I did read through some of the colonel’s diaries. It isn’t easy to translate his shorthand, even with the key of abbreviations you’ve included, and some of the pages are so water-damaged and faded, it’s hard to make out the writing, but they are really incredible. My interest isn’t just as a museum curator. I am a member of the Wolverine River tribe through my mother’s side. I know many of the places the colonel describes. Our family still keeps a fish wheel on the river to catch sockeye salmon each summer.
I am curious about the black leather journal that you included. It’s not identified in any way, but I can tell it’s not your great-uncle’s handwriting. It is mostly filled with mapping and weather data, but there are also more personal entries?—?sketches and poetry. Do you know who this belonged to?
I’d like to talk with you more about the documents and the artifacts you describe. Maybe I can do some research and help you find a home for the collection. Do you have an email address?
I’ll drop this letter in the mail and wait for your reply.
Best wishes,
Josh Sloan
Alpine Historical Museum
Alpine, Alaska
60°26’ N
145°11’ W
33°F, exposed bulb
27°F, wet bulb
Barometer: 29.15
Sleet in morning. Wind ESE, steady & cold. Clear by nightfall, allowing for navigational readings.
We calculate unseen horizon by mercury pool, pace off distances between our point and theirs, measure the wind and the speed by which the river flows, count the very droplets in the atmosphere. If we can measure, we are sure we can grasp and claim as our own. What then of the six-winged Seraph and Cherubim with sleepless eye? No such celestials dwell here. The Midnooskies have not met our God. Their own fearsome beasts fly through these skies. Will we find them with our civilized eyes? Will they flap out of glacier crevasse and over black river valley, while we crawl, scrabble up their mountains?
The hymns do have their siren call. I hear them as I row. “Feeble, trembling, fainting, dying, Lord! I cast myself on thee; Tarry with me through the darkness.” O we tremble?—?man and child alike. None of us so different from the clear-fleshed jellyfish that wash up on salty rocks. Cnidaria. Scyphozoa. We name. Dry. Pickle. Exhibit with pins and tabs and stoppered vials. Yet there is no how or why in that taxonomy. Just the Latin tongue. Incantation of cold science. Between Science’s measuring and my God’s condemning, I find no room for the Soul. No room for my feathered lungs to expand. I would gasp and gasp, only wanting the cold fingers to release their hold.
Otter Tracks
Of touching,?—?the female standing. This mode is advantageous in every respect. The parts of the female are in their natural position, and the physician cannot be mistaken?.?.?.?if the os tincae be open, the end of the finger is carefully introduced, to judge how much it is shortened, and thus to determine the period of pregnancy.
?—?From Midwifery Illustrated, Jacques Pierre Maygrier, 1822
Sophie Forrester
Vancouver Barracks
January 24, 1885
Can it be so, after these months of failure? We had thought to wait until Allen’s return from the expedition to seek out a physician who might advise us, yet it seems that our wish has been granted sooner than we dared to hope. A child!
I feel like a fool that I did not make it out myself, yet the post surgeon seems nearly certain. Such unexpected good tidings! Dear Allen is beside himself with joy. He was ready to announce it to all who would listen from the barracks to Boston, but I suggested that would be neither proper nor wise. It is still much too early, and until the surgeon detects a heartbeat or I feel the quickening, it cannot be certain.
I then had to tell him my one great disappointment. I will not go to Alaska. Dr Randall has forbidden it. I was incredulous at first?—?have women throughout history not traveled and lived their normal lives with no ill effect to their unborn children? What could be so particularly dangerous about riding on a steamer ship for a few weeks?
It vexed me the way Dr Randall ignored my questions but instead stood for some time at his shelf with his back to me. He thumbed through his books, mumbled to himself, all as if I were not in the room. At one point he even shushed me. That was too much! I am not a simpleton to be treated with such disregard. (I fear I am sometimes too quick with my words.) When I regained my composure, I proposed that on the ship I would have regular food and rest, and could even sit in a deck chair to watch the glaciers calve, if need be.
That is when he stated it plainly. Under no circumstances am I to go aboard the steamer, and I will need to take great care throughout the pregnancy. When I asked why, if there was something in his examination that gave him concern, he said I am not to worry myself with it, and unceremoniously sent me away.