Stickeen
by John Muir
1909
TO
HELEN MUIR
Lover of wildness
this icy storm-story
is affectionately
dedicated
TO MY DOG BLANCO
BY J.G. HOLLAND
My dear dumb friend, low lying there,
A willing vassal at my feet;
Glad partner of my home and fare,
My shadow in the street;
I look into your great brown eyes,
Where love and loyal homage shine,
And wonder where the difference lies
Between your soul and mine!
. . . . . . .
I scan the whole broad earth around
For that one heart which, leal and true,
Bears friendship without end or bound,
And find the prize in you.
. . . . . . .
Ah, Blanco! did I worship God
As truly as you worship me,
Or follow where my Master trod
With your humility:
Did I sit fondly at His feet
As you, dear Blanco, sit at mine,
And watch Him with a love as sweet,
My life would grow divine!
STICKEEN
In the summer of 1880 I set out from Fort Wrangel in a canoe to continue theexploration of the icy region of southeastern Alaska, begun in the fall of1879. After the necessary provisions, blankets, etc., had been collected andstowed away, and my Indian crew were in their places ready to start, while acrowd of their relatives and friends on the wharf were bidding them good-by andgood-luck, my companion, the Rev. S.H. Young, for whom we were waiting, at lastcame aboard, followed by a little black dog, that immediately made himself athome by curling up in a hollow among the baggage. I like dogs, but this oneseemed so small and worthless that I objected to his going, and asked themissionary why he was taking him.
“Such a little helpless creature will only be in the way,” I said;“you had better pass him up to the Indian boys on the wharf, to be takenhome to play with the children. This trip is not likely to be good fortoy-dogs. The poor silly thing will be in rain and snow for weeks or months,and will require care like a baby.”
But his master assured me that he would be no trouble at all; that he was aperfect wonder of a dog, could endure cold and hunger like a bear, swim like aseal, and was wondrous wise and cunning, etc., making out a list of virtues toshow he might be the most interesting member of the party.
Nobody could hope to unravel the lines of his ancestry. In all the wonderfullymixed and varied dog-tribe I never saw any creature very much like him, thoughin some of his sly, soft, gliding motions and gestures he brought the fox tomind. He was short-legged and bunchy-bodied, and his hair, though smooth, waslong and silky and slightly waved, so that when the wind was at his back itruffled, making him look shaggy. At first sight his only noticeable feature washis fine tail, which was about as airy and shady as a squirrel’s, and wascarried curling forward almost to his nose. On closer inspection you mightnotice his thin sensitive ears, and sharp eyes with cunning tan-spots abovethem. Mr. Young told me that when the little fellow was a pup about the size ofa woodrat he was presented to his wife by an Irish prospector at Sitka, andthat on his arrival at Fort Wrangel he was adopted with enthusiasm by theStickeen Indians as a sort of new good-luck totem, was named“Stickeen” for the tribe, and b