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Updated: June 15, 2025
All voted that the cooks had "done themselves proud," and no one could say that Christmas dinners could not be served in Chinik. Before rising from the table, at the close of the meal, toasts to the host and hostess were drunk by those at the bottles, and Christmas presents were distributed to many, principally to members of the family and from boarders of the house.
Only one stop was made before we reached St. Michael, that being at Port Denbeigh, a new mining camp where for some hours freight was unloaded. In about twenty-two hours from the time we left Chinik we were in St. Michael harbor, climbing down upon a covered barge which took us ashore.
Lincoln, the experienced native who came with her, knew the way perfectly, and they expected to make the twelve or fifteen miles and get into the Mission early, but the weather suddenly changed, as it knows so well how to do in this country, the wind blew, snow fell and drifted and though they came safely through the hills, they lost their way upon the bay while crossing to Chinik, and wandered for hours in the snow storm.
Sunday, December thirtieth: It is ten weeks yesterday since we arrived at Golovin, or Chinik, as is the Eskimo name for the settlement, and pronounced Cheenik, a creek of the same name flowing into the bay a mile east of this camp. During the day I went to look after Jennie and brought the child home with me, giving her candy and nuts, and playing for her on the organ.
Today I took a field glass, and climbing the hill behind the Mission to look as far out as possible, strained my eyes to see a steamer. As I stood upon the point to get a better view, the whole world around seemed waking from a long, long sleep. At my left was Chinik Creek, pouring its rushing waters out over the bay ice with a cheerful, rapid roaring.
Her love for her birthplace, with its hills, streams and ocean is a sincere one, and, young as she is, and having seen the great city by the Golden Gate, with many of its wonders, she is happiest in Chinik.
When supper is over, and the kitchen is well cleared, the women of the house may take their yarn and bright needles, while the men toast their feet at the fire and spin other yarns, without needles, which are, perhaps, not so essential, but far more entertaining to listeners. This is what we did that winter at Chinik, the home of the Eskimo, in that far away spot near the Arctic Sea.
"I know, I know, Sim no good Joe no good Bub no good," and she went away in a very depressed state of mind to Jennie and Apuk's baby. Of course Mollie told all to the captain, who immediately accused the men in the bar-room, and they all swore vengeance upon me from that on, so I suppose they will do all they can to torment me. We are having a sensation in Chinik.
Making a place in the bank with the snowshoe, while the wind whistled horribly and the whirling snow bewildered him, he lay down to Some men, one night, drove their dog-teams into Chinik. They had come from St. Michael, two hundred miles over the trail.
Ituk and Muky now made ready to go with me to the Home, a half mile away to the east where they were also to get some bread, this important item having been forgotten in the hurry of departure from Chinik. In the meantime Mollie, not to lose a moment of time, as is her method, had gotten out her fishing tackle and was already fishing for tom-cod through a hole in the ice.
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