Though a small town of just 1,500 people, Ketchikan is the heart of fishing and mining industries in Southeast Alaska.
From salmon canneries to historic totem poles, this town holds unexpected treasures.
Especially when the ship’s captain invites you to witness Alaska’s true beauty in the pouring rain — an unforgettable Alaskan wonder!
Ready to explore this rarely told story?.
From salmon canneries to historic totem poles, this town holds unexpected treasures.
Especially when the ship’s captain invites you to witness Alaska’s true beauty in the pouring rain — an unforgettable Alaskan wonder!
Ready to explore this rarely told story?.
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Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter four. The first landing made by United States boats
after leaving Seattle is at Ketchikan. This is a comparatively
new town. It is seven hundred miles from Seattle and
is reached early on the third morning out. It is
the first town in Alaska and glistens white and new
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on its gentle hills soon after crossing the boundary line
in Dixon Entrance, which is always saluted by the lifting
of hats and the waving of handkerchiefs on the part
of patriotic Americans. Ketchikan has a population of fifteen hundred people.
It is the distributing point for the mines and fisheries
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of this section of southeastern Alaska. It is the present
port of entry, and the custom's office adds to the
dignity of the town. There is a good court house,
a sawmill with a capacity of twenty five thousand feet daily,
a shingle mill, salmon cannery, machine shops, a good water system,
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a cold storage plant, two excellent hotels, good schools and churches,
are progressive newspaper, several large wharves, modern and well stocked
stores and shops, and a sufficient number of saloons. The
town is lighted by electricity, and many of the buildings
are heated by steam. A creditable chamber of commerces maintained.
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There are seven salmon canneries in operation which are tributary
to Ketchikan. The most important one mild cures fish for
the German market. Among the shipping mines which are within
a radius of fifty miles and which receive mails and
supplies from Ketchikan are the Mount Andrews, the Stephenston, the Mami's,
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the Russian Brown, the Haida, the Niblack and the Soulzer.
From fifteen to twenty prospects are under development. The There
are smelters in operation at Hadley and Copper Mountain on
Prince of Wales Island. From Ketchikan to all points in
the mining and fishing districts, safe and commodious steamers are
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regularly operated. The chief mining industries are silver, copper and gold.
The residences are for the most part small, but climbing
by green terraces over the hill and surrounded by flowers
and neat lawns. They impart an air of picturesqueness to
the town. There are several totem poles. The handsomest was
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erected to the memory of Chief Captain John by his
nephew at the entrance to the house now occupied by
the latter. The nephew asserts that he paid two thousand
and sixty dollars for the carving and making of the totem.
Owing to its freshly painted and gaudy appearance, it is
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as lacking in interest as the one which stands in
Pioneer Square, Seattle, and which was raped from a northern
Indian village. Four times. Had I landed at Ketchikan on
my way to far beautiful places, with many people, had
I talked concerning the place folders of steamship companies and
pamphlets of boards of trade had I read, Yet never
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from any person, nor from any printed page, had I
received the faintest glimmer that this busy, commercially described northwestern
town held almost in its heart one of the enduring,
end priceless jewels of Alaska. To the beauty loving Norwegian
captain of the steamship Jefferson, was I at last indebted
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for one of the real delights of my life. It
was near the middle of a July night and raining heavily,
when the captain said to us be ready on the
stroke of seven in the morning, and I'll show you
one of the beautiful things of Alaska. But at Ketchikan, Captain, Yes,
at Ketchikan. I thought of all the vaunted attractions of
(04:03):
Ketchikan which had ever been brought to my observation, and
I felt that, at seven o'clock in the morning, in
a pouring rain, I could live without every one of them.
Then the charm of a warm berth in a gray hour,
the cup of hot coffee, the last dream, to the
drowsy throb of the steamer. It will be raining, Captain
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one said, feebly, the look of disgust that went across
his expressive face. What if it is You won't know
its raining as soon as you get your eyes filled
with what I want to show you. But if you're
one of that kind, He made a gesture of dismissal
with his hands palms outward, and turned away. Captain, I
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shall be ready at seven. I'm not one of that kind.
We all cried together, all right, But I won't wait
five minutes. There'll be two hundred passengers waiting to go.
Copyright by ye A Hegg Juno Scene on the White
pass copyright by ye A Hegg Juno scene on the
(05:11):
White Pass. You know that letter that Thomas Bailey Aldrich
wrote to Professor Morse spoke up a lady from Boston
who had overheard. You know, Professor Morse wrote a hand
that couldn't be deciphered, And among other things, mister Aldrich wrote,
there's a singular and perpetual charm in a letter of yours.
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It never grows old, it never loses its novelty. One
can say to one's self every day there's a letter
of Morse's. I have not read it yet. I think
I shall take another shy at it. Other letters are
read and thrown away and forgotten, but yours are kept
forever unread. Now that letter, somehow, in the vaguest kind
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of way, suggests itself when one considers, is this getting
up anywhere from three to six in the morning to
see things? In Alaska? There's always something to be seen
during these unearthly ours. Every night we are convinced that
we will be on deck early to see something, and
we leave an order to be wakened. But when the
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dreaded knocking comes upon the door and a hoarse voice announces,
wrangle narrows or Alama pass. Our berths suddenly take on
curves and attractions day possess at no other time. The
side rails into which we have been bumping seam to
be cushioned with down, the space between bursts to grow wider,
the airin the rooms sweeter and more drowsily delicious. We say, oh,
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we'll get up tomorrow morning and see something, and we
pull the birth curtain down past our faces and go
to sleep. After a while, it grows to be one
of the perpetual charms of a trip to Alaska, This
always going to get up in the morning. In this
never getting up, it never grows old, It never loses
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its novelty. One can say to one's self every morning,
there's that little matter to decide now about getting up?
Shall I or shall I not? I have been to
Alaska three times, but I've never seen ketcha Can. Other
places are seen and admired and forgotten, but it remains
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forever unseen. Now I'll go and give an order to
be called at half past six two see this wonderful
thing at Ketchakan. I looked around for her as I
went down the slushy deck. The next morning, on the
stroke of seven, but she was not in sight. It
was raining heavily and steadily, a cold, thick rain. The
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wind was so strong and so changeful that an umbrella
could scarcely be held. Alas for the captain, out of
his boasted two hundred passengers, there came fourth, dripping in,
suspicious eyed, openly scenting a joke only for women and
one man. But the captain was undaunted. He would listen
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to know remonstrances. Come on now, he cried, cheerfully, leading
the way. You told me you came to Alaska to
see things, and as long as you travel with me,
you are going to see all that is worth seeing.
Let the other sleep. Anybody can sleep, You can sleep
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at home, but you can't see what I am going
to show you now anywhere but in Alaska. Do you
suppose I would get up at this hour and waste
my time on you? If I didn't know, you'd thank
me for it all the rest of your life. So
on and on we went up one street and down another,
around sharp corners, passed totem poles, saloons, stylish shops, windows
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piled with Indian baskets, and car up steps, and down
terraces along graveled roads, and at last the cross a
little bridge around the wooded curve. And then something met
us face to face. I shall always believe that it
was the very spirit of the woods that went past us,
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laughing and saluting, suddenly startled from her morning bath in
the clear amber brown stream that came foaming musically down
over smooth stones from the mountains. It was so sudden,
so unexpected. One moment we were in the little northern
fishing and mining town which sits by the sea, trumpeting
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its commercial glories to the world. The next we were
in the forest, and under the spell of this wild,
sweet thing that fled past us, returned and lured us on.
For three miles we followed the mocking call of the
spirit of the brown stream. Her breath was as sweet
as the breath of wild roses covered with dew. Never
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in the woods have I been so impressed, so startled
with the feeling that a living thing was calling me.
We could find no words to express our delight. As
we climbed the path beside the brown stream, whose waters
came laughingly down through a deep, dim gorge. They fell
sheer and sparkling, cataracts, they widened into thin, singing shallows
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of palest amber, clinking against the stones. Narrow and foaming,
they wound in and out among the trees. They disappeared
completely under wide sprays of ferns and the flat, spreading
branches of trees. Only two make a sudden sally farther down.
At first we were level with them, walked beside them,
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and paused to watch the golden gleams in their clear depths.
But gradually we climbed until we were hundreds of feet
above them. Down in those purple shadows, they went romping
on to the sea. Sometimes only a flash told us
where they curved. Other times they pushed out into open
spaces and made paws in deep pools, where they whirled
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and eddied for a moment before drawing together and hurrying on.
But always in everywhere the music of their wild, sweet
childish laughter floated up to us. In the dim light
of early morning. The fine mist of the rain sinking
through the gorge took on tones of lavender and purple.
The tall trees climbing through it seemed even more beautiful
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than they really were by the touch of mystery lent
by the rain. I wish that Max Nan and Brush,
who painted the adorable, compelling bride of the Wind, might
paint the elfish sprite that dwells in the gorge at Ketchikan.
He and he alone could paint her, so that one
could hear her impish laughter and her mocking fluting call.
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The name of the stream I shall never tell. Only
unimaginative modern Vancouver or Cook could have bestowed upon it
the name that burdens it today. Let it be the
brown Stream at Ketchikan. If the people of the town
be wise, they will gather this gorge to themselves, while
they may treasure it, cherish it, and keep it unspotted
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from the world. Yet for the world, metlacotla means the
channel open at both ends. It was here that mister
William Duncan came in eighteen fifty seven from England as
a lay worker for the Church Mission Society. It had
been represented that existing conditions among the natives sorely demanded
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high minded missionary work. The savages at Fort Simpson were
considered the worst on the coast at that time, and
he was urged not to locate there. Undaunted, however, mister
Duncan who was then a very young man, filled with
the fire and zeal of one who has not known failure,
chose this very spot in which to begin his work
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among Indians so low in the scale of human intelligence
that they had even been accused of cannibalism. Port Simpson
was then an important trading post of the Hudson Bay Company.
It had been established in the early thirties about forty
miles up Nass River, but a few years later was
removed to a point on the Simpson Peninsula. In eighteen
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forty one, Sir George Simpson found about fourteen thousand Indians
of various tribes living there. He found them peculiarly comely,
strong and well grown, remarkably clever and ingenious. They carved
neatly in stone wood and ivory. Sir George Simpson relates
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with horror that the savages frequently ate the dead bodies
of their relatives, some of whom had died of smallpox,
even after they had become putrid. They were horribly diseased
in other ways, and many had lost their eyes through
the ravages of smallpox or other disease. They fought fiercely
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and turbulently with other tribes. Such were the Indians among
whom mister Duncan chose to work. He was peculiarly fitted
for this work, being possessed of certain unusual qualities and
attributes of character which make for success. The unselfishness and
integrity of his nature made themselves visible in his handsome face,
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and particularly in the direct gaze of his large and
intensely earnest blue eyes. His manners were simple, and his
air was one of quiet command. He had unfailing cheerfulness, faith,
and that quality which struggles on under the heaviest discouragement
with no thought of giving up. His word was as
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good as his bond. His energy and enthusiasm were untiring,
and he never attempted to work his Indians harder than
he himself worked. The entire absence of that trait which
seeks self praise or self glory, in fact, his absolute
self effacement, his devotion of self and self interest to
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others and to hard and humble work for others. All
these high and noble parts of an unusual and lovable character,
added to a most winning and attractive personality, gradually won
for young William Duncan the almost utopian success which many
others in various parts of the world have so far
worked for in Vain. The Indians grew to trust his word,
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to believe in his sincerity and single heartedness, to accept
his teachings, to love him, and finally, and most reluctantly
of all, to work for him. At first, only fifty
of the Simpsons or at Simpsons, accompanied him to the
site of his first community settlement. Here the land was
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cleared and cultivate neat two story cottages, a church, a schoolhouse,
stores on the co operative plan, a sawmill, and a
cannery were erected by mister Duncan and the Indians. At first,
a corps of able assistance worked with mister Duncan, instructing
the Indians in various industries and arts until the young
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men were themselves able to carry along the different branches
of work, such as carpentry, shoemaking, cabinet building, tanning, rope making,
and boat building. The village band was instructed by a
German until one among them was qualified to become there
band master. The women were taught to cook, to sew,
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to keep house, to weave, and to care for the sick.
Here was a model village. An utopian community, an ideal
life founded and carried on by the genius of one young,
simple hearted, high minded, earnest and self devoted English gentleman.
But William Duncan's way, although strewn with the full sweet
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roses of success, was not without its bidder stinging thorns.
Mister Duncan was not ordained minister, and in eighteen eighty
one it was decided by the Church of England authorities,
who had sent mister Duncan out, that his field should
be formed into a separate diocese. And as this decision
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necessitated the residence of a bishop, Bishop Ridley was sent
to the field, a man whose name will ever stand
as a dark blot upon the otherwise clean page whereon
is written the story which all men honor and all
men praise, the story of the exalted life work of
William Duncan. Mister Duncan, being a layman, had conducted services
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of the simplest nature, and had not considered it advisable
to hold communion services which would be embarrassing of explanation
to people so recently won from the customs of cannibalism,
bigoted and opinionated, and failing utterly to understand the Indians
to win their confidence or to exercise patience with them.
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Bishop Ridley declined to be under the direction of a
man who was not ordained, and criticized the form of
service held by mister Duncan. The latter, having been in
soul charge of his work for more than thirty years,
and being conscious of its full land unusual results, chafed
under the Bishop's supervision and superintendence. In the meantime, seven
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other missions had been established at various stations in southeastern Alaska.
The bishop undertook to inaugurate communion services. This was strongly
opposed by mister Duncan, and he was supported by the Indians,
who were sincerely attached to him. The society in England
sympathizing with the bishop. Friction between the two was ceaseless
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and bitter, and continued until eighteen eighty seven. This has
been given out as the cause of the withdrawal of
mister Duncan to knew Melakatla, but his own people graduates
of Eastern Universities claimed that it is not the true reason.
He and his Indians had for some time desired to
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be under the laws of the United States, and in
eighteen eighty seven, mister Duncan went to Washington City to
negotiate with the United States for an Nette Island. The
bishop established himself in residence, but failed ignominiously to win
the respect of the Indians. He quarreled with them in
the commonest way, struck them, went among them armed, and
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finally appealed to a man of war four protection from
people whom he considered bloodthirsty savages. Mister Duncan, having been
successful in his mission to Washington, his faithful followers during
his absence, removed to a Nette Island, and here he
found none his return, all but one hundred out of
the original eight hundred which had composed his village on
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the bishop's arrival, the few having been persuaded to remain
with the latter at old Nutlakatla. Those who went to
the new location on Anette were allowed by the Canadian
government to take nothing but there personal property, all their houses,
public buildings, and community interests being sacrificed to their devotion
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to William Duncan. And this is perhaps the highest, even
though wordless, tribute that this great man will, living or dead,
ever receive. This story brief and incomplete of which we
gather up the threads as best we may. For William
Duncan dwells in this world to work and not to
talk about his work is one of the most pathetic
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in history. When one considers the low degree of savagery
from which they had struggled up in thirty years of
hardest and at times most discouraging labor, to a degree
of civilization which, in one respect at least, is reached
by few white people in centuries. If Ever, when one
considers how they had grown to a new faith and
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to a new form of religious services, to confidence in
the possession of homes and other community property, and to
believe their title to them to be enduring. When one
considers the tenacity of him indians attachment to his home
and belongings, and his sorrowful and heart breaking reluctance to
part with them. This shadowy, silent migration through northern Waters
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to a new home on an uncleared island, taking almost
nothing with them but their religion and their love for
mister Duncan, becomes one of the sublime tragedies of the century.
On a nette Island, then twenty years ago, mister Duncan's
work was taken up. A new homes were built, a sawmill, schools, wharf, cannery, store,
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town hall, a neat cottage for mister Duncan, and finally,
in eighteen ninety five, the large and handsome church rose
in rapid succession out of the wilderness. Roads were built
and sidewalks. A trading schooner soon plied the nearby waters.
All was the work of the Indians, under the direct
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supervision of mister Duncan, who in eighteen seventy had journeyed
to England for the purpose of learning several simple trades,
which he might in turn teach to the Indians, whom
he fondly calls his people. Thus personally equipped and with
such implements and machinery as were required, he had returned
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to his work. Today at the end of twenty years,
the voyager approaching Anette Island beholds, rising before his reverend eyes,
the new Malakatla, the old having sunk into ruin where
it lies, a vanishing stain on the fair fame of
the Church of England of the past. For the Church
of today is too broad and too enlightened to approve
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of the action of its mission society in regard to
its most earnest and successful worker, William Duncan. The new
town shines white against a dark hill. The steamer lands
at a good wharf, which is largely occupied by salmon canneries.
Sidewalks and neat gravel paths lead to all parts of
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the village. The buildings are attractive in their originality, for
mister Duncan has his own ideas of architecture. The church,
adorned with two large square towers, has a commanding situation
and is a modern steam heated building, large enough to
seat a thousand people or the entire village. It is
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of handsome interior finish in natural woods. Above the altar
are the following passages. The angels set unto them. Fear not,
for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy,
which shall be to all people. Thou shalt call his
name Jesus, for he shall save his people from their sins.
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The cottages are one and two stories in height, and
are surrounded by vegetable and flower gardens, of which the
women seem to be specially proud. They end. The smiling
children stand at their gates and on corners, and offer
for sale baskets and other articles of their own making.
These baskets are, without exception crudely and inartistically made, yet
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they have a value to collectors by having been woven
at Metlicotla by mister Duncan's Indian women, and no tourist
fails to purchase at least one, while many return to
the steamer laden with them. There is a girl's school
in a boy's school, a hotel, a town hall, several stores,
a sawmill, a system of water works, a cannery capable
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of packing twenty thousand cases of salmon in a season,
a wharf, and good warehouses and steam vessels. The community
is governed by a council of thirty members having a president.
There is a police force of twenty members. Taxes are
levy for public improvements and for the maintenance of public institutions.
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The land belongs to the community, from which it may
be obtained by individuals for the purpose of building homes.
The cannery in the sawmill, which is operated by water,
belong to companies in which stock is held by Indians
who receive dividends. The employees receive regular wages. The people
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seem happy and contented. They are deeply attached to mister Duncan,
and very proud of their model town. They have an
excellent band of twenty one pieces at the mere mention
of which their dark faces take on an expression of
pride and pleasure, and when their black eyes shine into
their questioner's eyes with intense interests. In fact, if one
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desires to steady the gaze and hold the attention of
a Metlacotla Indian, he can most readily accomplish his purpose
by introducing the subject of the village band. It is
a surprise that these Indians do not generally speak English
more fluently, but this is coming with the younger generations.
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Some of these young men and young women have been
graduated from Eastern colleges and have returned to take up
missionary work in various parts of Alaska. Meeting one of
these young men on a steamer, I asked him if
he knew mister Duncan the smile of affection and pride
that went across his face. I am one of his boys,
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he replied simply. This was the Reverend Edward Marsden, who,
returning from an Eastern college in eighteen ninety eight, began
missionary work at sac near Juno, where he has been
very successful. Mister Duncan is exceedingly modest and unassuming in
manner and bearing, seeming to shrink from personal attention and
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to desire that his work shall speak for itself. He
is frequently called father, which is exceedingly distasteful to him.
Visitors seeking information are welcome to spend a week or
two at the guesthouse and learned, by observation and by
conversation with the people what has been accomplished in this
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ideal community. But save on rare occasions, he cannot be
persuaded to dwell upon his own work. And after he
has given his reasons for this attitude, only a person
lost to all sense of decency and delicacy would urge
him to break his rule of silence. I am here
to work and not to talk or write about my work,
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he says, kindly and cordially. If I took the time
to answer one tenth of the questions I am asked
verbally and by letter, I would have no time left
for my work. And my time for work is growing short.
I am an old man. His beautiful, intensely blue eyes
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smiled as he said this, and he at once shook
his white crowned head. That is what they are saying
of me, But it is not true. I am young,
I feel young, and have many more years of work
ahead of me. Still, I must confess that I do
not work so easily, and my cares are multiplying. Some
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to whom I make this explanation will not respect my
wishes or understand my silence. They press me, by letter
or personally to answer only this question, or only that
they are inconsiderate and hamper me in my work. Possibly
this is the keynote to mister Duncan's success. Here is
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my work. Let it speak for itself. He has devoted
his whole life to his work, with no thought for
the fame it may bring him. For the latter, he
cares nothing. This is the reason that Pilgrim's voyage to
Metlakatla as reverently as today shrine. It is the noble
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and unselfish life work of a man who has not
only accomplished a great purpose, but who is great in himself.
When he passes on, let him be buried simply among
the Indians he has loved and to whom he has
given his whole life. And write upon his headstone, let
his work speak. The settlement on a Nette Island was
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provided for in the Act of Congress eighteen ninety one,
as follows that, until otherwise provided for by law, the
body of lands known as an Net Islands situated in
Alexander Archipelago in southeastern Alaska, on the north side of
Dixon Entrance be and the Sane is hereby set apart
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as a reservation for the Metlakotla Indians and those people
known as Melicotlins who have recently emigrated from British Columbia
to Alaska, and such other Alaskan natives as may join them,
to be held and used by them in common under
such rules and regulations, and subject to such restrictions as
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may be prescribed from time to time by the Secretary
of the Interior. The Indians of the community are required
to sign and to fulfill the terms of the following declaration. We,
the people of Metlakotla, Alaska, in order to secure to
ourselves in our posterity the blessings of a Christian home,
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do severally subscribe to the following rules for the regulation
of our conduct and town affairs. To reverence the Sabbath,
and to refrain from all unnecessary secular work on that day,
to attend divine worship, To take the Bible for our
room of faith. To regard all true Christians as our brethren,
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and to be truthful, honest, and industrious. To be faithful
and loyal to the government and laws of the United States.
To render our votes when called upon for the election
of the town Council, and to promptly obey the by
laws and orders imposed by the said Council. To attend
to the education of our children and keep them at
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school as regularly as possible. To totally abstain from all intoxicants
and gambling, and never attend heathen festivities or countenance heathenish
customs in surrounding villages. To strictly carry out all sanitary
regulations necessary for the health of the town. To identify
ourselves with the progress of the settlement, and to utilize
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the land we hold. Never to alienate, give away, or
sell our land or any portion thereof, to any person
or persons who have not subsort drive to these rules.
Chapter four. The first landing made by United States boats
after leaving Seattle is at Ketchikan. This is a comparatively
new town. It is seven hundred miles from Seattle and
is reached early on the third morning out. It is
the first town in Alaska and glistens white and new
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on its gentle hills soon after crossing the boundary line
in Dixon Entrance, which is always saluted by the lifting
of hats and the waving of handkerchiefs on the part
of patriotic Americans. Ketchikan has a population of fifteen hundred people.
It is the distributing point for the mines and fisheries
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of this section of southeastern Alaska. It is the present
port of entry, and the custom's office adds to the
dignity of the town. There is a good court house,
a sawmill with a capacity of twenty five thousand feet daily,
a shingle mill, salmon cannery, machine shops, a good water system,
(01:02):
a cold storage plant, two excellent hotels, good schools and churches,
are progressive newspaper, several large wharves, modern and well stocked
stores and shops, and a sufficient number of saloons. The
town is lighted by electricity, and many of the buildings
are heated by steam. A creditable chamber of commerces maintained.
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There are seven salmon canneries in operation which are tributary
to Ketchikan. The most important one mild cures fish for
the German market. Among the shipping mines which are within
a radius of fifty miles and which receive mails and
supplies from Ketchikan are the Mount Andrews, the Stephenston, the Mami's,
(01:50):
the Russian Brown, the Haida, the Niblack and the Soulzer.
From fifteen to twenty prospects are under development. The There
are smelters in operation at Hadley and Copper Mountain on
Prince of Wales Island. From Ketchikan to all points in
the mining and fishing districts, safe and commodious steamers are
(02:12):
regularly operated. The chief mining industries are silver, copper and gold.
The residences are for the most part small, but climbing
by green terraces over the hill and surrounded by flowers
and neat lawns. They impart an air of picturesqueness to
the town. There are several totem poles. The handsomest was
(02:35):
erected to the memory of Chief Captain John by his
nephew at the entrance to the house now occupied by
the latter. The nephew asserts that he paid two thousand
and sixty dollars for the carving and making of the totem.
Owing to its freshly painted and gaudy appearance, it is
(02:56):
as lacking in interest as the one which stands in
Pioneer Square, Seattle, and which was raped from a northern
Indian village. Four times. Had I landed at Ketchikan on
my way to far beautiful places, with many people, had
I talked concerning the place folders of steamship companies and
pamphlets of boards of trade had I read, Yet never
(03:18):
from any person, nor from any printed page, had I
received the faintest glimmer that this busy, commercially described northwestern
town held almost in its heart one of the enduring,
end priceless jewels of Alaska. To the beauty loving Norwegian
captain of the steamship Jefferson, was I at last indebted
(03:39):
for one of the real delights of my life. It
was near the middle of a July night and raining heavily,
when the captain said to us be ready on the
stroke of seven in the morning, and I'll show you
one of the beautiful things of Alaska. But at Ketchikan, Captain, Yes,
at Ketchikan. I thought of all the vaunted attractions of
(04:03):
Ketchikan which had ever been brought to my observation, and
I felt that, at seven o'clock in the morning, in
a pouring rain, I could live without every one of them.
Then the charm of a warm berth in a gray hour,
the cup of hot coffee, the last dream, to the
drowsy throb of the steamer. It will be raining, Captain
(04:25):
one said, feebly, the look of disgust that went across
his expressive face. What if it is You won't know
its raining as soon as you get your eyes filled
with what I want to show you. But if you're
one of that kind, He made a gesture of dismissal
with his hands palms outward, and turned away. Captain, I
(04:47):
shall be ready at seven. I'm not one of that kind.
We all cried together, all right, But I won't wait
five minutes. There'll be two hundred passengers waiting to go.
Copyright by ye A Hegg Juno Scene on the White
pass copyright by ye A Hegg Juno scene on the
(05:11):
White Pass. You know that letter that Thomas Bailey Aldrich
wrote to Professor Morse spoke up a lady from Boston
who had overheard. You know, Professor Morse wrote a hand
that couldn't be deciphered, And among other things, mister Aldrich wrote,
there's a singular and perpetual charm in a letter of yours.
(05:32):
It never grows old, it never loses its novelty. One
can say to one's self every day there's a letter
of Morse's. I have not read it yet. I think
I shall take another shy at it. Other letters are
read and thrown away and forgotten, but yours are kept
forever unread. Now that letter, somehow, in the vaguest kind
(05:56):
of way, suggests itself when one considers, is this getting
up anywhere from three to six in the morning to
see things? In Alaska? There's always something to be seen
during these unearthly ours. Every night we are convinced that
we will be on deck early to see something, and
we leave an order to be wakened. But when the
(06:18):
dreaded knocking comes upon the door and a hoarse voice announces,
wrangle narrows or Alama pass. Our berths suddenly take on
curves and attractions day possess at no other time. The
side rails into which we have been bumping seam to
be cushioned with down, the space between bursts to grow wider,
the airin the rooms sweeter and more drowsily delicious. We say, oh,
(06:43):
we'll get up tomorrow morning and see something, and we
pull the birth curtain down past our faces and go
to sleep. After a while, it grows to be one
of the perpetual charms of a trip to Alaska, This
always going to get up in the morning. In this
never getting up, it never grows old, It never loses
(07:04):
its novelty. One can say to one's self every morning,
there's that little matter to decide now about getting up?
Shall I or shall I not? I have been to
Alaska three times, but I've never seen ketcha Can. Other
places are seen and admired and forgotten, but it remains
(07:26):
forever unseen. Now I'll go and give an order to
be called at half past six two see this wonderful
thing at Ketchakan. I looked around for her as I
went down the slushy deck. The next morning, on the
stroke of seven, but she was not in sight. It
was raining heavily and steadily, a cold, thick rain. The
(07:48):
wind was so strong and so changeful that an umbrella
could scarcely be held. Alas for the captain, out of
his boasted two hundred passengers, there came fourth, dripping in,
suspicious eyed, openly scenting a joke only for women and
one man. But the captain was undaunted. He would listen
(08:11):
to know remonstrances. Come on now, he cried, cheerfully, leading
the way. You told me you came to Alaska to
see things, and as long as you travel with me,
you are going to see all that is worth seeing.
Let the other sleep. Anybody can sleep, You can sleep
(08:33):
at home, but you can't see what I am going
to show you now anywhere but in Alaska. Do you
suppose I would get up at this hour and waste
my time on you? If I didn't know, you'd thank
me for it all the rest of your life. So
on and on we went up one street and down another,
around sharp corners, passed totem poles, saloons, stylish shops, windows
(08:57):
piled with Indian baskets, and car up steps, and down
terraces along graveled roads, and at last the cross a
little bridge around the wooded curve. And then something met
us face to face. I shall always believe that it
was the very spirit of the woods that went past us,
(09:17):
laughing and saluting, suddenly startled from her morning bath in
the clear amber brown stream that came foaming musically down
over smooth stones from the mountains. It was so sudden,
so unexpected. One moment we were in the little northern
fishing and mining town which sits by the sea, trumpeting
(09:38):
its commercial glories to the world. The next we were
in the forest, and under the spell of this wild,
sweet thing that fled past us, returned and lured us on.
For three miles we followed the mocking call of the
spirit of the brown stream. Her breath was as sweet
as the breath of wild roses covered with dew. Never
(10:00):
in the woods have I been so impressed, so startled
with the feeling that a living thing was calling me.
We could find no words to express our delight. As
we climbed the path beside the brown stream, whose waters
came laughingly down through a deep, dim gorge. They fell
sheer and sparkling, cataracts, they widened into thin, singing shallows
(10:24):
of palest amber, clinking against the stones. Narrow and foaming,
they wound in and out among the trees. They disappeared
completely under wide sprays of ferns and the flat, spreading
branches of trees. Only two make a sudden sally farther down.
At first we were level with them, walked beside them,
(10:45):
and paused to watch the golden gleams in their clear depths.
But gradually we climbed until we were hundreds of feet
above them. Down in those purple shadows, they went romping
on to the sea. Sometimes only a flash told us
where they curved. Other times they pushed out into open
spaces and made paws in deep pools, where they whirled
(11:09):
and eddied for a moment before drawing together and hurrying on.
But always in everywhere the music of their wild, sweet
childish laughter floated up to us. In the dim light
of early morning. The fine mist of the rain sinking
through the gorge took on tones of lavender and purple.
The tall trees climbing through it seemed even more beautiful
(11:32):
than they really were by the touch of mystery lent
by the rain. I wish that Max Nan and Brush,
who painted the adorable, compelling bride of the Wind, might
paint the elfish sprite that dwells in the gorge at Ketchikan.
He and he alone could paint her, so that one
could hear her impish laughter and her mocking fluting call.
(11:56):
The name of the stream I shall never tell. Only
unimaginative modern Vancouver or Cook could have bestowed upon it
the name that burdens it today. Let it be the
brown Stream at Ketchikan. If the people of the town
be wise, they will gather this gorge to themselves, while
they may treasure it, cherish it, and keep it unspotted
(12:19):
from the world. Yet for the world, metlacotla means the
channel open at both ends. It was here that mister
William Duncan came in eighteen fifty seven from England as
a lay worker for the Church Mission Society. It had
been represented that existing conditions among the natives sorely demanded
(12:42):
high minded missionary work. The savages at Fort Simpson were
considered the worst on the coast at that time, and
he was urged not to locate there. Undaunted, however, mister
Duncan who was then a very young man, filled with
the fire and zeal of one who has not known failure,
chose this very spot in which to begin his work
(13:05):
among Indians so low in the scale of human intelligence
that they had even been accused of cannibalism. Port Simpson
was then an important trading post of the Hudson Bay Company.
It had been established in the early thirties about forty
miles up Nass River, but a few years later was
removed to a point on the Simpson Peninsula. In eighteen
(13:28):
forty one, Sir George Simpson found about fourteen thousand Indians
of various tribes living there. He found them peculiarly comely,
strong and well grown, remarkably clever and ingenious. They carved
neatly in stone wood and ivory. Sir George Simpson relates
(13:49):
with horror that the savages frequently ate the dead bodies
of their relatives, some of whom had died of smallpox,
even after they had become putrid. They were horribly diseased
in other ways, and many had lost their eyes through
the ravages of smallpox or other disease. They fought fiercely
(14:10):
and turbulently with other tribes. Such were the Indians among
whom mister Duncan chose to work. He was peculiarly fitted
for this work, being possessed of certain unusual qualities and
attributes of character which make for success. The unselfishness and
integrity of his nature made themselves visible in his handsome face,
(14:34):
and particularly in the direct gaze of his large and
intensely earnest blue eyes. His manners were simple, and his
air was one of quiet command. He had unfailing cheerfulness, faith,
and that quality which struggles on under the heaviest discouragement
with no thought of giving up. His word was as
(14:55):
good as his bond. His energy and enthusiasm were untiring,
and he never attempted to work his Indians harder than
he himself worked. The entire absence of that trait which
seeks self praise or self glory, in fact, his absolute
self effacement, his devotion of self and self interest to
(15:15):
others and to hard and humble work for others. All
these high and noble parts of an unusual and lovable character,
added to a most winning and attractive personality, gradually won
for young William Duncan the almost utopian success which many
others in various parts of the world have so far
worked for in Vain. The Indians grew to trust his word,
(15:38):
to believe in his sincerity and single heartedness, to accept
his teachings, to love him, and finally, and most reluctantly
of all, to work for him. At first, only fifty
of the Simpsons or at Simpsons, accompanied him to the
site of his first community settlement. Here the land was
(15:59):
cleared and cultivate neat two story cottages, a church, a schoolhouse,
stores on the co operative plan, a sawmill, and a
cannery were erected by mister Duncan and the Indians. At first,
a corps of able assistance worked with mister Duncan, instructing
the Indians in various industries and arts until the young
(16:21):
men were themselves able to carry along the different branches
of work, such as carpentry, shoemaking, cabinet building, tanning, rope making,
and boat building. The village band was instructed by a
German until one among them was qualified to become there
band master. The women were taught to cook, to sew,
(16:43):
to keep house, to weave, and to care for the sick.
Here was a model village. An utopian community, an ideal
life founded and carried on by the genius of one young,
simple hearted, high minded, earnest and self devoted English gentleman.
But William Duncan's way, although strewn with the full sweet
(17:05):
roses of success, was not without its bidder stinging thorns.
Mister Duncan was not ordained minister, and in eighteen eighty
one it was decided by the Church of England authorities,
who had sent mister Duncan out, that his field should
be formed into a separate diocese. And as this decision
(17:26):
necessitated the residence of a bishop, Bishop Ridley was sent
to the field, a man whose name will ever stand
as a dark blot upon the otherwise clean page whereon
is written the story which all men honor and all
men praise, the story of the exalted life work of
William Duncan. Mister Duncan, being a layman, had conducted services
(17:48):
of the simplest nature, and had not considered it advisable
to hold communion services which would be embarrassing of explanation
to people so recently won from the customs of cannibalism,
bigoted and opinionated, and failing utterly to understand the Indians
to win their confidence or to exercise patience with them.
(18:10):
Bishop Ridley declined to be under the direction of a
man who was not ordained, and criticized the form of
service held by mister Duncan. The latter, having been in
soul charge of his work for more than thirty years,
and being conscious of its full land unusual results, chafed
under the Bishop's supervision and superintendence. In the meantime, seven
(18:34):
other missions had been established at various stations in southeastern Alaska.
The bishop undertook to inaugurate communion services. This was strongly
opposed by mister Duncan, and he was supported by the Indians,
who were sincerely attached to him. The society in England
sympathizing with the bishop. Friction between the two was ceaseless
(18:58):
and bitter, and continued until eighteen eighty seven. This has
been given out as the cause of the withdrawal of
mister Duncan to knew Melakatla, but his own people graduates
of Eastern Universities claimed that it is not the true reason.
He and his Indians had for some time desired to
(19:19):
be under the laws of the United States, and in
eighteen eighty seven, mister Duncan went to Washington City to
negotiate with the United States for an Nette Island. The
bishop established himself in residence, but failed ignominiously to win
the respect of the Indians. He quarreled with them in
the commonest way, struck them, went among them armed, and
(19:42):
finally appealed to a man of war four protection from
people whom he considered bloodthirsty savages. Mister Duncan, having been
successful in his mission to Washington, his faithful followers during
his absence, removed to a Nette Island, and here he
found none his return, all but one hundred out of
the original eight hundred which had composed his village on
(20:05):
the bishop's arrival, the few having been persuaded to remain
with the latter at old Nutlakatla. Those who went to
the new location on Anette were allowed by the Canadian
government to take nothing but there personal property, all their houses,
public buildings, and community interests being sacrificed to their devotion
(20:26):
to William Duncan. And this is perhaps the highest, even
though wordless, tribute that this great man will, living or dead,
ever receive. This story brief and incomplete of which we
gather up the threads as best we may. For William
Duncan dwells in this world to work and not to
talk about his work is one of the most pathetic
(20:50):
in history. When one considers the low degree of savagery
from which they had struggled up in thirty years of
hardest and at times most discouraging labor, to a degree
of civilization which, in one respect at least, is reached
by few white people in centuries. If Ever, when one
considers how they had grown to a new faith and
(21:12):
to a new form of religious services, to confidence in
the possession of homes and other community property, and to
believe their title to them to be enduring. When one
considers the tenacity of him indians attachment to his home
and belongings, and his sorrowful and heart breaking reluctance to
part with them. This shadowy, silent migration through northern Waters
(21:35):
to a new home on an uncleared island, taking almost
nothing with them but their religion and their love for
mister Duncan, becomes one of the sublime tragedies of the century.
On a nette Island, then twenty years ago, mister Duncan's
work was taken up. A new homes were built, a sawmill, schools, wharf, cannery, store,
(21:58):
town hall, a neat cottage for mister Duncan, and finally,
in eighteen ninety five, the large and handsome church rose
in rapid succession out of the wilderness. Roads were built
and sidewalks. A trading schooner soon plied the nearby waters.
All was the work of the Indians, under the direct
(22:20):
supervision of mister Duncan, who in eighteen seventy had journeyed
to England for the purpose of learning several simple trades,
which he might in turn teach to the Indians, whom
he fondly calls his people. Thus personally equipped and with
such implements and machinery as were required, he had returned
(22:42):
to his work. Today at the end of twenty years,
the voyager approaching Anette Island beholds, rising before his reverend eyes,
the new Malakatla, the old having sunk into ruin where
it lies, a vanishing stain on the fair fame of
the Church of England of the past. For the Church
of today is too broad and too enlightened to approve
(23:05):
of the action of its mission society in regard to
its most earnest and successful worker, William Duncan. The new
town shines white against a dark hill. The steamer lands
at a good wharf, which is largely occupied by salmon canneries.
Sidewalks and neat gravel paths lead to all parts of
(23:27):
the village. The buildings are attractive in their originality, for
mister Duncan has his own ideas of architecture. The church,
adorned with two large square towers, has a commanding situation
and is a modern steam heated building, large enough to
seat a thousand people or the entire village. It is
(23:51):
of handsome interior finish in natural woods. Above the altar
are the following passages. The angels set unto them. Fear not,
for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy,
which shall be to all people. Thou shalt call his
name Jesus, for he shall save his people from their sins.
(24:12):
The cottages are one and two stories in height, and
are surrounded by vegetable and flower gardens, of which the
women seem to be specially proud. They end. The smiling
children stand at their gates and on corners, and offer
for sale baskets and other articles of their own making.
These baskets are, without exception crudely and inartistically made, yet
(24:36):
they have a value to collectors by having been woven
at Metlicotla by mister Duncan's Indian women, and no tourist
fails to purchase at least one, while many return to
the steamer laden with them. There is a girl's school
in a boy's school, a hotel, a town hall, several stores,
a sawmill, a system of water works, a cannery capable
(24:59):
of packing twenty thousand cases of salmon in a season,
a wharf, and good warehouses and steam vessels. The community
is governed by a council of thirty members having a president.
There is a police force of twenty members. Taxes are
levy for public improvements and for the maintenance of public institutions.
(25:21):
The land belongs to the community, from which it may
be obtained by individuals for the purpose of building homes.
The cannery in the sawmill, which is operated by water,
belong to companies in which stock is held by Indians
who receive dividends. The employees receive regular wages. The people
(25:42):
seem happy and contented. They are deeply attached to mister Duncan,
and very proud of their model town. They have an
excellent band of twenty one pieces at the mere mention
of which their dark faces take on an expression of
pride and pleasure, and when their black eyes shine into
their questioner's eyes with intense interests. In fact, if one
(26:06):
desires to steady the gaze and hold the attention of
a Metlacotla Indian, he can most readily accomplish his purpose
by introducing the subject of the village band. It is
a surprise that these Indians do not generally speak English
more fluently, but this is coming with the younger generations.
(26:26):
Some of these young men and young women have been
graduated from Eastern colleges and have returned to take up
missionary work in various parts of Alaska. Meeting one of
these young men on a steamer, I asked him if
he knew mister Duncan the smile of affection and pride
that went across his face. I am one of his boys,
(26:49):
he replied simply. This was the Reverend Edward Marsden, who,
returning from an Eastern college in eighteen ninety eight, began
missionary work at sac near Juno, where he has been
very successful. Mister Duncan is exceedingly modest and unassuming in
manner and bearing, seeming to shrink from personal attention and
(27:12):
to desire that his work shall speak for itself. He
is frequently called father, which is exceedingly distasteful to him.
Visitors seeking information are welcome to spend a week or
two at the guesthouse and learned, by observation and by
conversation with the people what has been accomplished in this
(27:33):
ideal community. But save on rare occasions, he cannot be
persuaded to dwell upon his own work. And after he
has given his reasons for this attitude, only a person
lost to all sense of decency and delicacy would urge
him to break his rule of silence. I am here
to work and not to talk or write about my work,
(27:56):
he says, kindly and cordially. If I took the time
to answer one tenth of the questions I am asked
verbally and by letter, I would have no time left
for my work. And my time for work is growing short.
I am an old man. His beautiful, intensely blue eyes
(28:16):
smiled as he said this, and he at once shook
his white crowned head. That is what they are saying
of me, But it is not true. I am young,
I feel young, and have many more years of work
ahead of me. Still, I must confess that I do
not work so easily, and my cares are multiplying. Some
(28:37):
to whom I make this explanation will not respect my
wishes or understand my silence. They press me, by letter
or personally to answer only this question, or only that
they are inconsiderate and hamper me in my work. Possibly
this is the keynote to mister Duncan's success. Here is
(28:59):
my work. Let it speak for itself. He has devoted
his whole life to his work, with no thought for
the fame it may bring him. For the latter, he
cares nothing. This is the reason that Pilgrim's voyage to
Metlakatla as reverently as today shrine. It is the noble
(29:20):
and unselfish life work of a man who has not
only accomplished a great purpose, but who is great in himself.
When he passes on, let him be buried simply among
the Indians he has loved and to whom he has
given his whole life. And write upon his headstone, let
his work speak. The settlement on a Nette Island was
(29:42):
provided for in the Act of Congress eighteen ninety one,
as follows that, until otherwise provided for by law, the
body of lands known as an Net Islands situated in
Alexander Archipelago in southeastern Alaska, on the north side of
Dixon Entrance be and the Sane is hereby set apart
(30:02):
as a reservation for the Metlakotla Indians and those people
known as Melicotlins who have recently emigrated from British Columbia
to Alaska, and such other Alaskan natives as may join them,
to be held and used by them in common under
such rules and regulations, and subject to such restrictions as
(30:23):
may be prescribed from time to time by the Secretary
of the Interior. The Indians of the community are required
to sign and to fulfill the terms of the following declaration. We,
the people of Metlakotla, Alaska, in order to secure to
ourselves in our posterity the blessings of a Christian home,
(30:44):
do severally subscribe to the following rules for the regulation
of our conduct and town affairs. To reverence the Sabbath,
and to refrain from all unnecessary secular work on that day,
to attend divine worship, To take the Bible for our
room of faith. To regard all true Christians as our brethren,
(31:04):
and to be truthful, honest, and industrious. To be faithful
and loyal to the government and laws of the United States.
To render our votes when called upon for the election
of the town Council, and to promptly obey the by
laws and orders imposed by the said Council. To attend
to the education of our children and keep them at
(31:26):
school as regularly as possible. To totally abstain from all intoxicants
and gambling, and never attend heathen festivities or countenance heathenish
customs in surrounding villages. To strictly carry out all sanitary
regulations necessary for the health of the town. To identify
ourselves with the progress of the settlement, and to utilize
(31:49):
the land we hold. Never to alienate, give away, or
sell our land or any portion thereof, to any person
or persons who have not subsort drive to these rules.
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