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Lights of The Caribou
BY LELA OMAN
“We’ve heard that story many
times already, Papa,” My older
sister, only onb with enough nerve
to speak like this to our father,
was protesting agains. hearing
the story again. Probably the
story was going to be about the
black crow and the fox. Which
we have heard many times.
My eyes were straining at the
only bright object, playing and
designing many disappearing fig
ures on the ceiling. Papa had
stuffed the stove with green
blocks of trees and the lid was
not laid in place right, causing
the stream of yellow light play at
the ceiling, keeping in time with
the staccato crackling of the burn
ing wood.
“I will tell you a story of what
I have seen when I was young.
Only promise that you will not
speak of it to anyone.” We all
promised him, and this promise
we have kept. It was no secret at
all, but characters in this story
were respectable and living. He
>did not want us to talk about
them.
Now that all who are in this
story are gone, I feel at liberty to
tell it.
Today we are made to believe
that the “evil spirit” did nothing
but bad. In my forefathers’ day,
which is only a few years ago,
“evil spirit’s” duty was good and
bad. Then there was no one to
worship who always did right,
and the Holy Ghost was unheard
of. They had to believe in some
thing and “evil spirit” through
witchcraft did miracles for them.
“I was around fifteen years of
age, when we faced, the hardest
winter we ever lived through.”
My father began the story, taking
us back to the neighborhood of
1880.
“We were living at Oxsick,” a
native village then. “Everyone
had helped to build a large weir
a few miles above. For many days
we had dipped white fish out
through the ice with dip-nets on
long poles. There were piles and
piles of frozen fish on the ice,
piled neatly into square blocks,
uniform in size, that one could
lift up easily. /
Before we had taken them to'
caches the weather turned warm
and rain poured. The swift cur
rent from under the ice and rain
rotted the ice that was not thick
yet. The flood raised the ice high
and for many days we watched
the ice of the Kobuk River run.
We were certain the fish we had
caught passed us by, some time
during the night, leaving us with
fe^ bundles of dried fish and
some berries, which my mother
had put away.
“The overcast was thick and
black and it seemed that we would
have rain forever. The river
swelled high and underbrush on
lower grounds waved madly in
the muddy water. After the brok
en-up ice had passed, small will
ows struggled to survive, and
were held down by their roots.
Spruce trees, half submerged,
looked heavy with dripping
boughs. Many small and foamy
whirlpools swirled by along with
the dislodged sod from the land
slides of the small bluffs. Many
round pieces of sod appeared like
the swimming porcupines. Large
fallen trees with broken branches
raced toy and made terrific crash
es at each bend of the river.
“My mother’s sister, Bessie, and
her husband, Doctor Charlie, were
living with us.” Doctor Charlie
was his given name toy the first
Missionaries that came up the
Kobuk. Name that fitted him per
fectly. He was a strong medicine
doctor.
“Doctor Charlie*s two wives had
gone through a bitter fight over
him and the older one, whom I
will call ‘Hanah,’ had run away.
“Bessie did not want Charlie,
for he was already a husband.
There were many other suitors.
Being an ahngoot-kook (medicine
doctor), Charlie had won. He was
feared and respected by his peo
ple. Among them his word was a
command. My grandmother forced
Bessie to take him. ‘Think of your
younger brother. Forget your own
desires.’ Believing that if she re
fused, Charlie would kill off her
relatives through evil power, Bes
sie sacrificed her love for an
other and became a wife of this
young man who was already
strong in supernatural power and
a leader in our community.
“Bessie was tall, slim and beau
tiful with long black braids. A
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pampered child and was self-cen
tered and forever stirring mis
understanding in our household.
Her beauty won her whatever
she wanted except the most im
portant thing to her—her own
choice of a husband. This beauty
drew the medicine man, whom
she did not want.
"Hanah, a good woman, very
sincere and kind, was no beauty.
It was apparent she worshipped
the ground Charlie walked on.
Being an orphan, this had attrac
ted Charlie to her. She was very
jealbus of Bessie and hated her
good looks. So, after a quarrel,
she had run away during the
night. We later heard that she
was with the relatives that lived
further up along the Kobuk.
“After a month of slushy weath
er the river froze over with no
prospect of good fishing. We tried
the river and the sloughs, but all
the fish had gone out with the
flood. We took to hunting ptarmi
gans and rabbits but this was also
futile.
“Our only chance now was in
hunting caribou. While we were
preparing to leave, Hanah came
at night. Mysteriously as she had
left. I knew Bessie was not pleased
by this new complication, but
Charlie was very glad to see her.
As he went about he seemed se
cure once more. Comforted by
kindness which Hanah freely
gave. For years now the two
wives had fought, always ending
with Hanah’s running away. She
had given birth to two girls, and
the older one was a little younger
than I. There was an understand
ing that when she and I became
old enough we were to became
man and wife. But she died before
we became of age. Soon after the
younger daughter joined her in
death. Typical of a strong medi
cine man, Doctor Charlie could
not defend his own from death.
(To Be Continued)
If an accident victim came to
you for help, what would you do?
You’d help him, wouldn’t you?
Not everyone who needs aid
can come to you personally—but
you can help . . . you do help
through membership in your Red
Cross.
Answer the Call—Join and
serve.
Nome Directory
ROTARY CLUB
OF NOME
James Walsh, Pres.
George Bayer, Secty.
Thursday Luncheon
Northwestern Alaska
Chamber of Commerce
MEETS
EVERY TUESDAY NOON
BOYD HARWOOD, President
ALASKA CHAPTER NO. 1
Order of Eastern Star
Meets the third Monday of each month.
Jane Perkins
Worthy Matron
Evelyn Branson
Secretary
LESLIE A. STEVENS
PUBLIC ACCOUNTANT
—4b6 First Ave. West, Nome, Alaska—
10 to l2 A.M. - 1 to 5 P.M. .
Phone Main 82 — P.O. Box 208
ANVIL LODGE
No. 14(5
John Cooley, WJd.
' Norvin W. Lewis, Secy.'
Meets 1st and 3rd Thursday each month.