Just as Ceeth Hwya described, it stretches broadside east to west, but is much larger than I anticipated. Nothing like the serene clear ponds we have seen so far. It is at least five miles across to the northern shore. Pruitt estimates 15 miles to the glacier that borders it to the east, most likely just as far to its western end. The waters are cloudy, dark gray, with sizeable white caps. Knee-high, choppy waves wash ashore. The rocky beaches are littered with driftwood.
During the heat of the day, as we neared the lake, Pruitt & I talked of taking a dip. Upon arriving, we are dissuaded.
?—?That there water would freeze a man’s valuable parts right off, Tillman said.
It is indeed frigid. I only cupped water in my hands to splash my face & was chilled.
Tomorrow we search the shore for the village.
I do not sleep well. The wind off the lake stirs the trees, cuts through my sleeping bag. I hear Tillman & Nat’aaggi still awake talking to one another. I long for home.
June 14
We have located the Indians only a mile or so to the west. They speak yet another dialect of Midnoosky so that we have much difficulty in communicating, even with Tillman & Nat’aaggi working together. My Trail River jacket, however, needed no translation.
?—?Ceeth Hwya! they said.
From then on, we have been treated as royalty. We are offered sleeping quarters in their huts, provided with a feast of caribou meat, trout of some kind from the lake. Without salmon, these are their primary foods.
We have managed to secure two canoes as well as supplies, although it cost us a great deal in gun powder. In retrospect, I believe the Indians’ reluctance was not one of bargaining but instead of disbelief. When we told them they would have to retrieve their canoes, as we would be leaving them on the far side, they would not accept the terms. Surely we would be returning, they said. We explained that we would continue on to the north, to cross the mountains.
They wanted to know if I was a shaman. Nat’aaggi said that might explain my behavior. Why else would I come all this way only to lead my men into the land of the dead?
We tried in several ways to explain that we know our direction, that we will travel through the mountains & continue on to the Tanana & Yukon Rivers.
There is little to eat in the mountains, they said. There is no firewood, no good place to camp. Even if we were to find a place out of the weather, they said it is not safe to fall asleep in the pass. They said we could wake to find ourselves lost to a snowstorm or surrounded by dangerous spirits.
The wind from the glacier has ceased this evening. The lake is calm.
Pruitt paddled one of the canoes a few hundred yards out from shore to measure the depth using Indian fishing twine with a rock tied at the end. He had marked the length in five-foot increments. At 100 feet, he ran out of twine but still had not struck bottom.
I suspect it is the fear of the open water that keeps these Indians close to shore?—?the canoes are not designed to navigate white caps. However, with mild weather such as this, we could paddle hard, be to the far side within hours.
I put forth the plan this evening as we ate. Nat’aaggi, who listened nearby, protested.
?—?It would cut our journey to the far side well in half, I said. —?Why not go straight across?
She endeavored to tell several of the Indian men of our plans. They understood enough to disapprove. An elder in the group came to sit beside me. He spoke earnestly, that much I could see, but we had difficulty comprehending his words. He tried gestures. He pointed towards the lake, then slid one arm smoothly from one side to another, indicating its surface. With the other hand he formed a mouth, brought it chomping up from the depths.
We came to understand that some creature lived in the lake.
?—?Slook? (Is it a fish?) Animal? What is it?
He pointed to the distance from where we sat to a nearby hut. He indicated that length again & again. He nodded towards the lake.
?—?Is he saying the thing is that long? Nigh on 20 feet? Tillman asked.
?—?Yes, Nat’aaggi said. —?Udjee.
?—?Caribou? I don’t understand, he says it is a caribou?
?—?No, sir, Tillman said. —?They’re saying it eats caribou. Grabs them when they try to swim the lake.
June 15
Pruitt requested we stay in the village for several days. He says he is ill & needs to rest. I inquired as to his specific ailments, to which he replied only that he is generally weary & not himself. He complains of aching bones & shortness of breath even when walking on flat ground. I suggested that he might gain strength in eating more when we have food available, to which he shrugged with indifference.
I asked Tillman how he fared.
?—?I’m well enough. But Colonel, we have been going hard. A day or two wouldn’t put us too behind, would it?
I suspect Pruitt of apathy, Tillman of wanting to consort with the Indians. Both of them are wary of the lake. It all frustrates me to no end. Perhaps I have been too inflexible, however.
I have agreed to an additional day in camp, so as to rest & feed our appetites. The men must find their nerve again. I have no interest in dawdling our way over the mountains. I am disappointed with their softness.