Now I was used to all kind of bear except--the Polar which I am free and frank to confess is the worst man eater on earth, not one beast of any country excepted. The Polar averages to weigh about seven hundred pounds his build is different from any other bear, he is long and lanky having giant legs, his color is pure white. Except at times he is yellow around the neck, and shoulders. His food is Walrus and whale which have been killed and cast upon the ice by tremendous storms. They breed but once a year and seldom have more than one cub. he lives exclusively in the Arctic regions. His fur is used for rugs and robes and is worth about $150.00 per pelt. But it is so hard get these skins to civilization that they are rare, often other bear is colored and sold for real Polar. Between the Polar Bear and Siberian Wolves we had to watch our dogs all night to keep them from being killed, as well as ourselves.
This country was poepled with Eskomos a sort of a cross between them and Mucklock indians. they were very friendly to us. I could address them in their own language which pleased them and we prospered fine. On the first day of Feb. we started back to Gnome.
And for the first time suffered total darkness by day and by night. We had enjoyed the midnight sun, and now must suffer the mid-day dark. The thermoneter lay about seventy below zero and the wind blew a gauger, On this trip back to Gnome I first learned what it was to neglect for hours to wait upon Nature, owing to the suffering of even exposing you bare hand for ten seconds. On this trip our old Chum, the playmate of Texas darling of Wyoming and the tramp of Deadwood So. Dak. got so cold he whined and refused to go. We took him and put him in our sleeping bag. I had taken him because he was fat and I kept him as a reserve food, rather than for actual work. We had a great jag on our sleighs we had to draw fish to feed our dogs, fish for fuel and lights, and with our traps, guns sleeping bags and truck we had great loads.
We reached Gnome without any serious accidents or over severe suffering sold our furs and felt fine over our grand success.
The following summer I fell in with a Miner by the Name of Jack Freeman. he was well known as a penetrator, He told us that up at point Barrow was all kind of shot gold. this aroused our curiosity again and I thought of my Squaw down at St Michals. Which I felt if I went to Point Barrow I would be obliged to wed. So we evaded the northern fever and planned to trap again somewhere near Candle Creek.