They made an amusing scene, Mr Pruitt so studious and fair-skinned, with his red hair trimmed boyishly; the grimed smith, in leather apron and rolled up sleeves, looking particularly unhappy with having to stand for his picture to be taken. Mr Pruitt peered out from the black cloth and quietly asked the blacksmith to turn his shoulder this way and his chin that, to which the smith obeyed with considerable grumbling.
More than anything, I wanted to ask Mr Pruitt how the camera works, how it can be taken afield, and to even see some of his images, but I thought better than to interrupt him.
Such an extraordinary notion, to be able to seal light and shadow to the page in such a way. I often think of the photographs Allen and I saw in a Boston studio –the old woman with her pipe, a little boy riding a giant dog, and a whimsical scene of actors dressed in animal masks. Startlingly vivid, each of them, so that there was a silvery texture to the fabric and skin, and a quality of light that seemed truly magical, as if life glowed from within the paper itself.
I envy Mr Pruitt that he will document the Far North with such a device! (Alas, I will bring on board only my notebooks and poor drawing skills. It seems a curse, that one should love the work of a naturalist yet be so ill-suited for it.)
January 9
I did not expect to be the cause of such a stir. One would think I was to leave on a polar expedition. During tea this afternoon at Mrs Connor’s house, the officers’ wives reacted with everything from alarm to squealing delight to know that I will go as far as Sitka with Allen and his men.
Where in heaven’s name will you sleep? You must bring extra quilts so you won’t freeze in the night! What about the polar bears? They are man-eaters! (I explained to Mrs Bailey that to my knowledge the white bears live much farther north than I will venture, so I will not be in their danger.) The food on board will be dreadful, mark my words. And the seasickness you’ll endure! Best pack a tin of good biscuits for yourself.
I should have predicted Miss Evelyn’s response. “At least one nice gown. You must have that. You never know when there might be some fine occasion?—?don’t make that face at me Mrs Forrester, you could end up having dinner at the governor’s house in Sitka?—?and it’s appalling to be underdressed.”
Sarah Whithers was the only one who offered sound advice.
“Do you have a good Mackintosh, to keep off the rain and snow?” And the dear, timid woman said I could have hers, as she had recently been given a new one; I thanked her but told her I had a raincoat, and that I would certainly remember to pack it in my trunk.
And then there was blustery Mrs Connor. “Never mind all this nonsense! Why on Earth are you going?”
I apologized but said I did not take her meaning.
“Surely your husband can’t make you go,” she said.
Not go! I explained that it was my very desire to go, and that if permitted, I would accompany Allen the entire distance across Alaska.
“Absurd. There is no need for a bright young woman such as yourself to join in such idiocy. Leave it to the men to throw themselves off the face of the earth. They are quite adept at it by themselves.”
What could I say in my defense?
“But isn’t it romantic?” Mrs Whithers interjected. “Imagine a husband so distraught to be separated from you, that he brings you with him!”
It was kind of her to attempt my rescue, especially knowing how painfully shy she is in front of Mrs Connor. Yet nothing could save me from the sense that I had taken several steps back from the other women. I was silent the rest of tea.
If I had found the words, I would have said this: I do not go because my husband orders me. I do not go out of some need to prove or earn anything. And while it will give me joy to remain some time longer at my husband’s side, it is not even that alone. Instead, I go because I long to see this wild place for myself.
January 11
Am I truly to believe that Mrs Connor came striding to my front door with only the purest of compassion in her heart?
She would not take tea or cake, but only wanted to warm her hands by the cook stove and insist that I did not grasp the severity of Allen’s leaving. I must consider it some sort of holiday to the north! Am I not aware of the danger he will face in Alaska?
I endeavored to remain calm and polite during her visit, allowing myself the occasional, “I see. Yes, I see.” Such replies did not satisfy her, and she grew agitated and began to pace about our small kitchen.
“You force me to speak plainly,” she said. “My Hugh says that the last white men to venture up that river were the Russians, and they were murdered by the Indians. Every last one of them.”
“I see,” I said yet again.
“Is that all you have to say? ‘I see, I see.’ I wonder if you really do see!”
I thanked her for her concern, and led her to the door.
Why would she subject me to such vile talk? Surely I will fret for Allen every day he is gone from me, all the more if what she says is true, yet no amount of worry will bring him back home. Only good fortune and his own skill can do that.