Jack London. Lost Face (in English, in the original)

Page 3

The years had passed.  He had served under Tebenkoff when Michaelovski Redoubt was built.  He had spent two years in the Kuskokwim country.  Two summers, in the month of June, he had managed to be at the head of Kotzebue Sound .  Here, at this time, the tribes assembled for barter; here were to be found spotted deerskins from Siberia, ivory from the Diomedes, walrus skins from the shores of the Arctic, strange stone lamps, passing in trade from tribe to tribe, no one knew whence, and, once, a hunting-knife of English make; and here, Subienkow knew, was the school in which to learn geography.  For he met Eskimos from Norton Sound, from King Island and St. Lawrence Island, from Cape Prince of Wales, and Point Barrow.  Such places had other names, and their distances were measured in days.

It was a vast region these trading savages came from, and a vaster region from which, by repeated trade, their stone lamps and that steel knife had come.  Subienkow bullied, and cajoled, and bribed.  Every far-journeyer or strange tribesman was brought before him.  Perils unaccountable and unthinkable were mentioned, as well as wild beasts, hostile tribes, impenetrable forests, and mighty mountain ranges; but always from beyond came the rumour and the tale of white-skinned men, blue of eye and fair of hair, who fought like devils and who sought always for furs.  They were to the east—far, far to the east.  No one had seen them.  It was the word that had been passed along.

It was a hard school.  One could not learn geography very well through the medium of strange dialects, from dark minds that mingled fact and fable and that measured distances by “sleeps” that varied according to the difficulty of the going.  But at last came the whisper that gave Subienkow courage.  In the east lay a great river where were these blue-eyed men.  The river was called the Yukon .  South of Michaelovski Redoubt emptied another great river which the Russians knew as the Kwikpak.  These two rivers were one, ran the whisper.

Subienkow returned to Michaelovski.  For a year he urged an expedition up the Kwikpak.  Then arose Malakoff, the Russian half-breed, to lead the wildest and most ferocious of the hell’s broth of mongrel adventurers who had crossed from Kamtchatka.  Subienkow was his lieutenant.  They threaded the mazes of the great delta of the Kwikpak, picked up the first low hills on the northern bank, and for half a thousand miles, in skin canoes loaded to the gunwales with trade-goods and ammunition, fought their way against the five-knot current of a river that ran from two to ten miles wide in a channel many fathoms deep.  Malakoff decided to build the fort at Nulato.  Subienkow urged to go farther.  But he quickly reconciled himself to Nulato.  The long winter was coming on.  It would be better to wait.  Early the following summer, when the ice was gone, he would disappear up the Kwikpak and work his way to the Hudson Bay Company’s posts.  Malakoff had never heard the whisper that the Kwikpak was the Yukon , and Subienkow did not tell him.

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