Seagoing Indians
Acquired from Russia, with the Territory of Alaska seventy odd years ago, the Aleutian Islands have received slight attention. A partially submerged continuation of the Aleutian range of mountains on the Alaskan Peninsula, they form a natural barrier between the Pacific Ocean and the Bering Sea, and reach almost to the Asiatic mainland. At the Alaskan peninsula the axis of the chain tends southwesterly. It curves gradually to the right, twice crossing the great circle course from Seattle to Tokyo, until at far-off Attu, the last of the American islands, the trend of the axis is northwest. Beyond Attu lies the Commander Group, physically but not politically a part of the archipelago. Attu is as far north as Calgary and as far west as New Zealand, but at the middle of the chain the southernmost island is a scant 4 degrees north of Seattle.
Although some of the islands contain sedimentary rocks, beds of lignite, and amber, the group is unmistakably volcanic in origin, abounding with hot springs, smoking fissures, and volcanoes. The majestic, snow-capped volcanoes rival in beauty famed Fujiyama. Noteworthy is Shishaldin, an almost perfect cone, 8,000 feet high, on Unimak Island. Unfortunately, on account of the prevalent fog it is seldom completely visible, and one traveler passed it a hundred times before seeing it wholly in the clear. Post and Gatty, on their round-the-world flight, found it useful as well as beautiful when its white tip, looming above the clouds, assured them they were on the right course.
Scientists agree that the Aleutian Islands were formed recently, geologically speaking. They do not agree as to whether they were formed by settling of the ocean floor, submerging existing land, or by upheaval of the bottom, forming new land. Be that as it may, there is one island which we have good reason to believe was cast up from the sea in recent times, historically speaking. When Russian adventurers arrived in the Aleutian Islands they found aged natives who told of tremendous noise, smoke, and flames in the north, followed by the appearance of an island which had not been there before. The Russians identified this island, west of the Peninsula and north of the main chain of the Aleutians, and named it Bogoslof, “Hand of God.”
Bogoslof is sometimes referred to as the “disappearing island.” Within memory it was too hot for comfort, and even now there is no soil and nothing will grow. In the early part of this century there were three distinct islands with channels between them, through at least one of which American cutters have steamed. At present there is but a single island, the former channels being completely land-filled well above high tide.
The Bering Sea is comparatively shallow and its bottom is regular. At the Aleutian Islands the bottom rises abruptly to mountain heights. Most of the volcanoes in the chain are on the northern sides of the islands. The coast of the islands is bold and precipitous, leaving no place for the formation of beaches, and affording the sea nothing with which to wear away the land.
The topography of the islands is incredibly rugged. From the north they extend southward in a succession of gullies, gorges, and peaks of diminishing altitude. So irregular is most of the surface that it is literally impossible to lay out a regulation baseball diamond. The tumbled profile continues into the Pacific off the southern shores, where the peaks appear as small detached islands or lurk beneath the surface. Many of these dangerous pinnacles have been found through disastrous shipwrecks.
The straits between the islands vary in width from yards to several miles. They are deep, but are dotted with occasional pinnacles and other unmarked dangers. Currents in the straits are often swift and erratic. While there are differences in the islands, it is extremely difficult to tell them apart even after long experience. When to this is added the ever-present fog, concealing the coast and foothills of one island and the tops and peaks of the next one, it is apparent that navigation about the islands is not an unmixed pleasure.
There are numerous indentations and inlets in the coast lines of the islands. Most of the inlets are exposed, exceedingly deep, and have rocky bottoms. An armed lead brings up sand or volcanic ash and dust from the bottom, but in most cases such coatings are only a few inches thick, affording no holding ground for anchors. Most of the inter-island traffic is conducted in very small vessels, no larger than a 50-foot motor launch. Close to the mouths of the streams there is often sufficient silt and mud to afford such small craft a safe anchorage for some directions of the wind.
In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries Russian explorers and hunters, called Promishleniki, pushed into eastern and northern Siberia. This was the home of the Chuckchee people, who were nomadic warriors, following their reindeer over the hills and stoutly resisting the advance of the Russians. The Promishleniki, however, were not to be denied. They pushed northward by land and eastward by sea, trading for furs and ivory.
Competition was keen and materials were scarce and expensive, so the Russians constructed ships out of what was to be had. A common type was the kotch, a rude wooden shallop, about 30 by 12 feet and decked over. Many of the early Russians traveled in the sheftika or shitika, which implies sewn, as it was constructed without nails or pegs. It was a large craft, sheathed with planks which were fastened to the timbers with osiers or withes. The seams were stuffed with moss and were covered with narrow laths, inserted in the osiers, to keep the moss from washing out. It is not surprising that in frequent cases of shipwreck much of the material was washed ashore, and the survivors were able to construct a smaller craft in which to proceed.
The Russians also used a boat called a bidar, which is similar to the oomiak of the Eskimo. It was made by stretching sea lion or walrus hide over a wooden frame lashed together with rawhide thongs without the use of iron. Such a boat would carry a dozen people and a ton of cargo and was comparable to a modern whaleboat.
Although he did not report it, Simeon Deschenev, a Russian who sailed from the mouth of the Kolyma River in Siberia in1648 to trade with the Chuckchees for ivory, must have been the first white man to sight Alaska. He sailed through Bering Strait and described the Diomede Islands, from which it is most probable that he saw Cape Prince of Wales, which is visible from the Asiatic shore.
There is more definite record of the discovery of the Aleutian Islands. Spurred on by tales of the Chuckchees of a people farther on who had ivory teeth in their cheeks, an expedition under Vitus Bering, a Dane in Russian employ, left Petropaulovsky in 1741. Bering’s flagship, St. Peter, was accompanied by the ship St. Paul under command of Alexi Chirikov. The ships soon became separated and never rejoined. Chirikov discovered several of the western islands and was finally shipwrecked on Chirikov Island in the Commander Group, where he died.
Bering first arrived at Kayak Island, off the Alaskan Peninsula, and then attempted further exploration of the Aleutian chain. He was handicapped by bad weather, and on September 24, 1741, he encountered a gale which lasted 17 days and drove him as far south as 48 degrees 8 minutes latitude. His pilot, Hasselberg, declared that he had not seen such tempests in 50 years’ experience. Upon regaining land, Bering buried a dead Russian sailor on an island to which he gave the sailor’s name—Shumagin. The St. Peter was wrecked on Bering Island, in the Commander Group, where Bering sickened and died. After many trials and tribulations, a remnant of the St. Peter’s company reached Petropaulovsky in a boat they had constructed.
The arrival of the remnant of Bering’s expedition in civilization, with tales of fabulous wealth in furs and ivory in the Aleutian Islands, was a signal for a mad scramble to profit by the opportunity on the part of all sorts of adventurers. In 1745 Michael Nevidiskov was the first white man to land on Attu in the Near Islands. The Near Islands were first called the Aleutian Islands, but that name was later applied to the whole chain. In 1753, a ship sent out by Serrebrennikof discovered a new group, probably the Rat Islands. Paicov discovered the Fox Islands in 1759, and in the same year Stephen Glottof explored them and named them from the multitudes of black, red, and cross foxes he found there. Andrean Tolstykh visited the islands, and in 1760 explored a group and published a description of them, from which they became known as the Andreanof Islands. In 1763, Glottof discovered Kodiak Island, and in 1768 Krenissin discovered the peninsula of Alaska.
The Russian adventurers found practically all the islands inhabited by people now known as Aleuts. The origin of the Aleut is obscure and uncertain. The name is said to be derived from the Chuckchee word aliat, meaning island, the Kamchatkans having told the Russians of these islanders, or aliuit, beyond their shores. The Aleuts called themselves Unungun, meaning people. Linguistically, there were two distinct groups of Aleuts, the Unalaskans, living in the Fox Islands, and the Atkans, living in the Andreanof, Rat, and Near Islands to the westward. Although the Aleuts exhibited many typically Eskimo traits, investigation discloses that they were more closely affiliated physically and culturally with the people of the American North Pacific coast than with the Eskimo or the Asiatic coast tribes. Ethnographically they belong to the same stock as those found in Kamchatka.
The Aleuts were short, but plump and well built, with short necks, swarthy faces, black eyes, and long black hair. They were a tractable, cheerful people, subsisting on fish, birds, otter, walrus, and seals, and clothing themselves from the same source. They lived in sod houses, the greater portions of which were excavated, and which were thatched with tundra grass. The houses, or barabaras, had plain dirt floors, no openings save one low entrance, and since all the processes of life went on in their unventilated darkness, they were, according to our standards, indescribably filthy.
Although the Aleuts have adopted many civilized habits, a few still live in the original way, and they do not take naturally to cleanliness. The Russians found them in a very primitive state. Their tools were bone and stone, metal being unknown. Wood was practically unknown, although some use was made of driftwood. The life was communal, each barabara harboring several families, and polygamy was practiced.
The Aleuts had no organized religion as we know it, although they did have a loose collection of legends, folklore, and superstition. Early in their voyages, the Russians took with them priests of the Greek Orthodox Church, and the Aleuts were converted to that faith en masse, almost without opposition, and have retained that faith to this day. This phenomenon is almost without parallel in history.
Burial customs of the Aleuts were similar to those of other aborigines. The departed was interred with all his valuables such as spears, paddles, etc. Several bodies have been found buried in a crouching or sitting posture, and in some cases the corpses had been crudely mummified. None of these customs or practices appear to have been connected with any definite belief in a hereafter or future life for the departed.
Although few of the Aleuts could swim they were as much at home on the water as on the land, thanks to their well-adapted boats and the skill they developed with them. Their boat, the bidarka, was similar to the kyak of the Eskimo. It was a decked-over canoe, about 16 feet long and some 16 inches in beam. It was framed of bone or wood and was covered with sealskin. The paddler sat in a hatch amidships, wearing a watertight shirt, or kamlika, made of whale or walrus intestines and lashed tightly around the coaming of the manhole in the deck. The true native bidarka seated one, very rarely two, although the Russians built two- and three-seaters. Being entirely water-tight, the bidarka would withstand almost any sea if properly handled. Skilled natives could capsize and right it at will. An Aleut could make as much as 7 miles an hour, and he was safe as long as his strength to paddle held out. He thought nothing of going 20 or 30 miles to sea in search of his quarry. If a storm was encountered, the natives simply lashed two or three bidarkas together and rode it out. They made journeys as far as the present site of Sitka and return in a season, 1,200 miles by the route they followed.
The Aleuts developed an almost uncanny knowledge of the habits of seals, fish, and other quarry, and of the changes in the weather to be expected. They knew that immediately after a storm the seals would bask on the surface enjoying the calm. Knowing also when the storm would abate, they would put offshore into the teeth of a howling gale, in order to be where the seals would be when the storm ended.
They carried prodigious loads in the bidarka. It was no uncommon sight to see a lone paddler beach his bidarka, unlash the kamlika, and step out, to be followed by a wife and several children carrying the family belongings. The passengers had been stretched prone inside the bidarka for hours, and what they used for air is conjectural. With ability such as this, it seems idle to speculate on the possibility of former land or ice bridges between Asia and America to explain common racial characteristics.
The principal occupation of the Aleut Women was the preparation of clothing, but they employed the long intervals of absence of the men in weaving baskets and mats from specially selected and treated tundra grass. The weaving done by the women of Atka was possibly the finest example of weaving ever produced by a savage or semi-civilized people. In later years much of the weaving was done to order for the traders, and took the form of baskets, cigar cases, and other special shapes for which there was a ready market in San Francisco.
The mode of operation of the early Promishleniki was generally as follows. An expedition would assemble in Siberia, construct its ships, sail down one of the northern rivers to the sea, and then along the coast to one of the Commander Islands. Here a stop would be made to kill sufficient sea otter and rhytina to provision the expedition. The rhytina, or sea cow, was an immense sea animal, weighing as much as 8,000 pounds, frequenting Bering Island. It is doubtful if the Russian expeditions would have been successful without this provisioning, but so thoroughly did they hunt the rhytina that it became extinct. According to Hornaday, the last one was killed in 1854. The Russians also hunted to extinction the Pallas cormorant. It was the largest bird of its family, weighing from 12 to 14 pounds, with rich plumage, and found only on Bering Island. It was exterminated in about 100 years.
Having provisioned, the expedition would sail for one of the Aleutian Islands. Upon arrival the Russians would take over one or more of the barabaras, seize hostages, usually the wives and daughters of the natives, and settle themselves for the winter. They gave the Aleut men fox traps, kleptzi, and sent them out for furs, while they reigned as sultans of the harem. If one may judge by the diversions they devised, they must have been more or less bored. One of these was to heat stones red-hot inside a tightly sealed barabara. The Russians would then strip and pour ammonia on the hot stones. When they could no longer stand the resulting fumes, they would rush outside, still naked, and roll in the snow to revive themselves.
In the spring the natives brought in the furs. If the Russians considered the catch unsatisfactory, they thought nothing of putting the natives to death. Then they took the foxes, retrieved their traps, loaded their ships, gave the women a few trinkets such as beads, and sailed away to Kamchatka.
No thought was given to depletion of the fur-bearing animals and no measures of conservation were dreamed of. Naturally, the foxes soon became scarce in the nearest islands, not to mention the depletion of the natives, and the Russians pushed on to islands farther east. In time they encountered Indian opposition on the mainland, and at Kodiak, where the Indians were especially fierce and warlike. As the Russians were insufficient in number to overcome determined opposition, they recruited the Aleuts to fight for them. Although the Aleut was naturally peaceable, he was a good fighter when occasion demanded. Great expeditions were formed, with a Russian flagship and hundreds of Aleuts, each in his own bidarka, accompanying the flag. Such expeditions would descend on the mainland a thousand miles away, overcome local opposition, kill, loot, and hunt, until the Russian ship was full. Then the Russian ship would sail away, abandoning the Aleut to the vengeance of the Indians or the fury of the elements in finding his way home. Few Aleuts got home.
The Promishleniki took out of the islands, and from the mainland, untold fortunes in furs. From Kamchatka the furs were sent to China, which was the big market for them. In spite of wholesale losses by shipwreck and brigandage, the trade was profitable, and a single successful voyage meant a fortune for the owner and those engaged in the venture. It cannot be denied that the Promishleniki were spurred on by greed, that they committed outrages and stupidities, and that they were barbarous and ruthless. Nevertheless, they do not appear to have been much worse in these respects than other pioneers of our so-called civilization. It is impossible not to admire the hardihood and fortitude of men who overcame apparently insurmountable obstacles and achieved success with meager and inadequate equipment.
Tractable, long-suffering, patient, and merry as were the Aleuts, they became embittered at their wrongs and at the ruthless depletion of their means of livelihood, and there was a more or less general uprising against the Russians. There was no concerted action, but rather a series of sporadic outbursts, more or less simultaneous. In October, 1762, the Aleuts murdered all hands in the Russian ship Zacharias and Elizabeth, then at Ubienna, or Massacre Creek, in Captain’s Harbor, Unalaska. The same day they killed all but five, who escaped, of a party of Russians at Biorka, and they wiped out a party at Kalekhta. About the same time they attacked the Russians in the Holy Trinity, off Koshega, but were repelled, and the ship moved to Makushin. Here the Russians were joined the following September by the five survivors from Biorka, who had been helped by friendly Aleuts, and who traveled in a small bidar made from leathern provision sacks. This reinforced party sailed to join Medvedef’s vessel north of Umnak, but was wrecked on that island. After ten days they found the remains of a burned Russian ship, an empty Russian dwelling, and twenty Russian dead, including Medvedef. They were finally rescued by Glottof in the Andrean and Natalie, fresh from the discovery of Kodiak Island.
A Russian trader named Ivan Solovief undertook to exact vengeance of the Aleuts. He made no distinction between innocent or guilty, friend or foe. He advanced on villagers fortified in their barabaras, fought them until their arrows and spears were exhausted, and then blew up their barabaras with gunpowder, and dispatched the survivors, men, women, and children, with muskets and cutlasses. He destroyed villages and murdered the natives, almost without exception, on the south side of Umnak, on Samalga, and the Islands of the Four Mountains. He destroyed two bidars full of friendly natives who were on their way from Unimak Island to visit relatives, and finally killed all the natives who had assembled on Egg Island from several villages.
Solovief is reported to have lashed a dozen Aleuts together in a row and to have fired a musket into the breast of the first to see how far the ball would go. The bullet is said to have stopped in the ninth man. While Solovief was avenging his countrymen, another Russian was engaged in the same work. The Russians in another ship, probably that of Glottof, destroyed four large villages on Unimak Island, keeping only the young women and the young men for slaves.
These punitive operations appear to have wholly cowed the Aleuts, who never attempted another uprising. Aleut mothers for generations frightened their children into silence with the dread name of Solovief. Moreover, Solovief’s operations appear to have completely changed the nature of the Aleut race. Instead of the merry, cheerful people they once were, they became gloomy, dejected, and spiritless.
Although the Promishleniki were engaged in private ventures, each boat carried an official Cossack, whose duty it was to collect the yassak or tribute of one-tenth of the fur for the government. Under the circumstances little of the tribute reached the coffers of the government, and it was not long after the first successful voyage of the Promishleniki that the Russian government began to consider settling the new territory and providing it with organization and government on the spot, to maintain order and to collect taxes. The oldest settlement in the Aleutian Islands is that at Unalaska, or Iliuliuk, at the head of Iliuliuk Bay, close by Captain’s Harbor (so named by the famous Captain Cook on his visit there). Iliuliuk was founded sometime between 1760 and 1775. The first official Russian colony in America was established in 1784, in the southeastern part of Kodiak Island, by Gregor Ivanovich Shelikof. He brought with him his wife, Natalie, the first white woman to sail these northern seas.
The Aleuts at Iliuliuk told the Russians of some islands to the north, where fur seals swarmed for breeding. While the Russians had indulged in pelagic sealing, they were anxious to discover the breeding grounds, and they searched for 18 years. The Pribilof Islands, about 300 miles northwest of Iliuliuk, were finally discovered in 1786, by Subov in the sloop St. George, but the group was named for the first mate, Pribilof, who had persisted in the search for the entire 18 years.
After discovery of the seal islands, the Aleutian Islands play but a small part in the generally known drama of the fur seal industry and the development of the mainland of Alaska. Suffice it to say that in 1779 the Russian government, finding it impossible to collect the taxes imposed on more than 60 distinct Russian trading companies operating in Alaska and the Aleutian Islands, formed a quasi government corporation. This corporation was known as the Russian-American Company, and enjoyed exclusive monopolistic rights in Alaska, Kamchatka, Siberian Okotsk, and the Kurile District. The first governor sent out was Alexander Baranof, under whose enlightened measures the colonies prospered and the Russian government enjoyed some revenue for a brief time. Baranof established successful industries, notably the building of good seagoing ships. He also greatly encouraged the missionaries of the Greek Orthodox Church. He was succeeded by military and naval men, without business training or acumen, and the whole enterprise became a drain on the Russian treasury.
No conservation was practiced or preached, and the Russians were forced to go farther and farther afield, both to capture seals and to provide sustenance for the growing white population of the colony. They spread as far south on the North American coast as the Russian River in California, just north of San Francisco, where they operated a successful agricultural colony. There is record of successful fur sealing operations from there to the Farallon Islands.
During the latter part of the Russian control, commercial interests of other nations were pushing into Alaskan and Aleutian waters. The Spanish pushed north from California and Mexico, and English, French, and American whalers and pelagic sealers were operating extensively. If the Russians objected to this, they were not in a position to do much about it. As soon, however, as the United States gained control of the area, American commercial interests clamored for exclusive rights.
The acquisition of Alaska by the United States was due principally to the persistent effort of Secretary Seward. Russia ceded the territory in 1867 for a consideration of $7,200,000. From then until 1930, the value of Alaskan minerals, fish, furs, and other products reached $1,576,622,820. Congress adopted the name Alaska for the new area, derived from the Aleut word Alyaska or Alaksu, applied to the mainland of the peninsula. For a long time Alaska had no organized government, such administration as there was being supplied by the Army and the Navy. Eventually, however, it was given a territorial form of government and the natives were entrusted to the Indian Affairs Bureau of the Department of the Interior. In the eyes of the Aleuts, the Americans suffered in comparison with the departed Russians because of their failure to appear in the gorgeous trappings of their predecessors.
A strong California corporation, the Alaska Commercial Company, enjoyed a lease of the seal islands from 1870 to 1890. From 1890 to 1910 the lease was held by the North America Commercial Company. Both companies operated on an enlightened basis, treating the natives well and greatly improving their lot. It was largely through efforts of the Alaska Commercial Company that Alaska was made Indian country. However, too many seals were killed at the breeding grounds, pelagic sealing took its toll, and the fur seal herd was rapidly becoming extinct. In 1910 the United States entered into a treaty agreement, with other nations concerned, about fishing and sealing, and itself took over the management of the seal islands. Since then the fur seal herd has been scientifically handled and, instead of becoming extinct, is gradually increasing.
The Alaska Commercial Company still operates in the Aleutian Islands as a miscellaneous trading and supply company, and is perhaps the largest commercial venture there. Dutch Harbor, near Iliuliuk, is one of its principal stations, although there are only two or three permanent white residents. Dutch Harbor has enjoyed one brief boom. In the Klondike gold rush of the late nineties it became a wintering point for those who were too late to push farther north before spring. A large, mushroom town grew up and flourished for a year or two. Now it is a ghost town. Many of the houses and most of the board walks, which served for streets, have been used for fuel by the inhabitants and casual visitors, but here and there are faded remains of flamboyant signs proclaiming the saloons, gambling dens, and what-not of its heyday.
During the short growing season of about 135 days, when the snow melts from all but the highest peaks, the Aleutian Islands are a vivid green in color and are most pleasing in appearance from the sea. The color is given by the all-pervading tundra grass. There is little soil on the islands but the rocks are covered with growing and decayed moss of various kinds. In this are tangled the roots of the tundra grass, forming hummocks about 2 feet high and about 2 feet in diameter. The hummocks are closely spaced, and the tall blades of tundra grass grow so rankly from them that the going is hard except where foxes or others have worn a trail. Everything is saturated with moisture, and moisture-proof clothing and footwear are essential. As soon as the growing season is over, the tundra grass turns yellow and sinks into a tangled mass on its roots. Walking on that is comparable to walking on a feather bed.
There are no trees in the Aleutian Islands. Across Kodiak Island and up the Alaskan mainland, clear of the coast, runs a line, as straight and as abrupt as if manmade. East of this line trees flourish, west of it they will not grow. About 1835 Veniaminov transplanted a small grove of trees from the mainland to Iliuliuk. The little grove is still there, but all that the trees have done is to maintain life; they have not grown an inch. There was great indignation locally when a wandering party of .inquisitive foreigners, gathering scientific data, dug up one of those trees and carried it off as a sample of the flora of the region.
There are small clumps of willow bushes along the banks of the streams with stems no larger than a man’s wrist, but that is the only timber which grows in the Aleutian Islands. In many places there are dense growths of crowberry (native shecksa), circumpolar sphagnum, sedge, and flowering plants, including many wild flowers common to the United States proper, such as violets and flags. Attempts at truck gardening have been made in the settlements, but since a potato will grow in the short season only as large as a prize radish, the returns offer little encouragement.
Shipwreck in the remote islands is apt to be disastrous. Most of them are not ROW regularly inhabited, and it is virtually impossible to live off the land. In some cases small amounts of provisions and fuel might be found in trappers’ shacks, but no great supply is to be so found. The islands are entirely without intercommunication* and are rarely visited by craft of any kind.
*Since this was written the Department of the Interior has installed some radiotelephones.
There are now no animals in the Aleutian Islands except the foxes and a few domestic animals. Outside the few settlements there appear to be no rodents or vermin. In the summer there are countless small gnats of a harmless variety, and in the eastern islands there are some mosquitoes.
Birds are plentiful. Among them may be mentioned the albatross, sea parrot, ptarmigan, ducks, geese, and eagles. The last mentioned are regarded as pests because they carry off fox cubs, and there is a government bounty on them.
The streams contain Dolly Varden trout and a few somewhat inferior salmon run them in season. The surrounding waters are densely populated with common fish, such as cod, halibut, herring, flounder, and sculpin. Whales are rare, but blackfish are frequently sighted. The giant Japanese spider crab is abundant. Sea lions or ordinary hair seals abound. The sea otter is seldom seen, and is considered to be practically extinct. There is some doubt on this point, since it is known that after the onslaught of the Russians and their successors the sea otter completely changed its habits. Formerly it bred on shore, like the fur seal, but now it is known to breed furtively in the kelp which lines the islands and to be extremely shy.
Some years ago, in order better to provide for the remnant of the Aleut people, the government concentrated them into a limited number of settlements. All from the western islands were gathered on Atka, except a small colony of about 50 on Attu, who refused to leave their ancient home. Concentration into a few settlements was made of those on the islands east of Atka.
Constant effort is exerted to improve the lot of the Aleut, by the government and by the churches. Schools are operated in the settlements with some success, although it is difficult to include in the curriculum much that is of use to the Aleut in his native environment. The government operates a small hospital, with a resident doctor, at Iliuliuk, and medical officers visit the islands annually in vessels of the Coast Guard Bering Sea Patrol. Nevertheless, transportation is meager, communication is almost nonexistent, and regular medical treatment and dental treatment is difficult to provide. The dying remnant of Aleuts (1,080 by census of 1920, compared to an estimated 25,000 on arrival of the Russians) are a sickly race. In addition to the old story of susceptibility to the white man’s diseases, the comparatively soft life now led by the Aleuts predisposes them to ailments virtually unknown in their primitive life. The race is afflicted with such ailments as tuberculosis, scrofula, the social diseases, and poor teeth.
The companies trading in the islands maintain stores at the settlements in which the natives can purchase necessities and a few other articles. In the absences of the men, the stores extend credit to the families. The Aleut, however, is an inveterate gambler, fond of poker, and if he fritters away his season’s pay before returning to his settlement, he may become wholly dependent on the company. Since the white man has deprived the native of his original source of food and clothing, and has rendered him dependent upon food and clothing sent in from the outside world, the white man is responsible that they are sent in, and that they are made available to the Aleut. This is being done.
Although there is still some fishing for food, and for the market, the principal industry of the Aleutian Islands is raising foxes. Concessions are given on different islands and selected pairs of foxes are turned loose on them to breed and to forage for themselves on birds, eggs, mussels, fish, and whatever they can find. Their diet is sometimes amplified with smoked fish. Different islands support different breeds, and the islands are chosen sufficiently far apart that the foxes will not swim across and mix the breeds. Blue and cross foxes are among the breeds most highly prized, and great care must be taken to prevent corruption of the breed by the common red fox which would soon dominate the whole. Experts can tell from the pelt on which island it was raised.
Parties of natives are hired during the winter and are transported from the settlements to the islands to trap the foxes. During the seal breeding season the government employs natives in the Pribilof Islands to kill selected seals. This seasonal employment, while a great improvement on that managed by the Promishleniki, is not entirely satisfactory, and efforts have been made to diversify the natives’ activities. These efforts have so far met with indifferent success. As mentioned, agriculture is not profitable. A small herd of reindeer planted on Atka manages to survive, and there are one or two flocks of sheep on other islands. None of these ventures is a commercial success.
