UNITED STATES DEPOSITORY
THE FIRST NATIONAL BANK
OP FAIRBANKS, ALASKA
CAPITAL AND SURPLUS $100,000.00.
• l
Drafts and Telegraphic Exchange Issued on All Parts oi the World
UNDER GOVERNMENT SUPERVISION
Miners’ Home
Wines, Liquors & Cigar*. Rooms, Steam Heat,
Electric ight & all Modem Conveniences
Opposite Tanana VaQey 2. IL Depot
P. O. SOX 767, FAIRBANKS, ALASKA
P’oneer Hotel
Oldest And Largest Hotel
In Fairbanks.
Warm Stables And Dog Houses.
DAVE PETREE, PROP
WORKINGMEN!
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BARTHEL BREWING COMP ANTS
Bottled Beer
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Second Avenue Next Orpheum Theater Phone 184
It docs not necessarily require brains
to become a millionaire. All that is
necessary arc the cunning of the wolf,
the soul of the snake, and the snout of
the swine.
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THE ALASKA SOCIALIST
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He Gets On Their Nerves
Somewhere In the world arc five feet
and a halt of gentle, polite, retieent
man, smiling bnt unsparing, thought
fal bnt approachable, et whose name the
enthroned ones ehndder and at whose
appearance the police forces of the na
tions gather themselves for supreme eff
ort.The doors of the country are dosed
to him; the law hnnts or ebons him;
kings listen to his utterances and feel
their structures tremble end stagger.
And the qniet little man slinks here and
there, planning plotting, exhorting.
Wherever he goes he leaves his foot
prints of blood and violence and rnin.
He has done no crime, this gentle lit
tle man, yet he has spent years in pris
on and in exile. He has been accused
countless times. Wherever he has been
assassination and rebellion have sprout
ed, bat never has be personally been
connected. He works in the dark and
escapes ini the dark, back to his little
mechanical sh«p in Soho, London,
while one government after another
reels from his unseen blows.
Ills name is Malatesta and he has Just
again eluded the Italian police after
stirring «p the bloody Ancona strikes
which forced the calling of Italy’s naval
and military forces. The monarch* on
then throne* are doomed to more quak
ing.
When the Italian navy arrived in too
great strength for tha Ancona strikers,
it is said, Malatesta, disguised as a work
roan. left his rooms in greart haste and
escaped into Switzerland. In searching
bis house, the police say, they found
letters and money orders from American
anarchists and notes advising Malatesta
to assassinate the Italian King. More
than likely the last is a hit of police in
formation given out for its effects. The
quiet little Soho mechanician does not
kill. ’’Kill kings ?” he satd on oneocaa
*lon. "Too foolish, I should rather kill
chickens. They are good to eat, but
what could one do with a king?"
Malatewa. What a name 1 or what a
man!
It means "evil bead,” Its owner is a
revolutionary anarchist, and some minds
will find a poetic coincidence in these
two facts, bnt there is a stranger story
in that name and the man.
Lovers wherever books have penet
rated. know Paolo and Francesca, the
lovers who were slain when the hus
band found out the secret of his brother
and his wife. That husband was Gio
vanni Malatesta, Lord of Rimini. The
Malatestas are Counts of the Holy Rom
an Empire. Their line dates from the
thirteenth cenipry. The Malatesta* are
of the first families of^Italy and the old
castle of Rimini may still be seen though
time has stripped it of it# gardens and
glories and converted it into a macaroni
factory.
A tew weeks ago ttyfra was a general
uprising in Northern Italy in which the
workmen pat so. mach violence into
their strike that the naval forces and
the army had to be called to Ancona to
restrain the workmen. One name ran
through the breathless reports of the
upheavel—Malatestal
i The arch-anarchist, the chatterer of
thrones, the brain of the movement;
|the plotter of assassinations, was at
| work.
Never was an offender more avidly
sought by the police of any land. To
| fiaallr get their bands os the arch-en
emy; tobeable to fasten the guilt of
those bloody riots upon him; to pat him
away for good. These were the things
which set the Italian police after him in
force. Bnt ilalatesta has escaped and
the police and the kings have no peace.
The history of this strange little man
is a terrible romance. Born to a tittle,
wealth and rank be renounced them all
as a schoolboy, devoted his time to stud
y of social topics and soon blossomed
forth, one of the leading anarchists of
the world. With the years be has come
to be called “the thorn in the flesh of
(Continued on rage 4)
I
ANOTHER SOUR DOUGH PETE
STORY
Onec again tad the vicissitude# pec
uliar to the domains of the Aurora Bor
ealis driven Sourdough Pete (Alaska
superman) and yours trnly to shelter,
from the fierce elements, under the
same roof-tliat is if yon call poles thrown
horizontally across logs laid atop of
each other in a a square, covered with
moss, bireh bark and glacial muck, and
the ridge rope of an 6x10 tent stretched
between two willows, roofs, /Twas the
first time since we shared cor mosquito
tent, poling np the Melorikoket, on one
of onr many wild goose chases in quest
of that mythological pot-o-gold at the
phantom rainbow-end. And this time
the unexpected happenned nowhere
else but a source of perrennial stamp
edes, nur neighboring Big Chena river.
And some cold too, was that memorable
winter of 1905-06, with three feet of
snerw in October. While I was, perad
vtntur.e, returning to Pairbands from
an annual janat to the rejuvenating wat
ers of the hot springs, the intrepid
masher was on h i s way back via Circle
City, to the same place from a qniet-tip
stampede to the bead of the Porcupine.
Naturally, the winding, well travelled
Circle City-Fairbanks mail trail was too
roundabout, so this Alaska Gulliver
took a cutoff of his own, going up a big
unnamed tributary of Birch creek, over
the divide and on down the North Fork
of the Big Chena. Of course there's
never a trail broken over that desolete
air-line route and Skcokutn Pete had
saowshoed it. mushing his ynkoa sled
by the neck. I*d made the old Indian
cabin, first day out from the springs.
The Iilg Cherni Hot Springs in early
days, with alone log bath house built
over the steaming mineral springs and
mad was not the modern health resort
of today, with stages from Fairbanks
running on schedule. Instead, the
health seeker took hie whole outfit, tent
and all, over a narrow tortuous trail,
made by the few prospectors, trappers;
and loggers in the vicinity. The ther
mometer suddenly dropped to 60 so 1
decided to hole up until the weather
became reasonable. The third day of
my forced lonesome occupancy of the
old Eiwash adode, I was down on the
river, behind the cabin, chopping out
the water hole, when tne squeaking
and grating of sled runners caused me
to look up, and there, striding along
the old hunter's trail which came out of
the heavy timber through the willows
and skirted the steep river bank, with
hand on gee pole and rope over should
er, came a hulking figure m caribou
parka and mukluks. In the dusk of the
short Jan. day, with head completely
bidden from view inside the big fur
parka hood, I didn't recognize the
giant until the familiar voice hailed.
And of all the welcome surprises! Even
as we grasped hands I began anticipat
ing another of his adventures. And
soon the time was propitious, plenty
wood piled behind the Yukon stove.
The supper had been a sustaining mul
ligan, Pete’s favorite blend, equal parts
of bear meat, porcupine and rabbit,
flavored with ptarmigan, aud a few
handfuls of rice and Lubec* sprinkled
into the whole. Pete was about to add
some of a mysterious dark brown sub
stance into the mass when I objected,
stating that the aforesaid collection was
t
as strong as I wanted to go at one sit
ting. He was a little miffed about go
ing without what he called Alaska Elix
er# explaining that the little condensed
milk can contained when full the es
sence of a half dozen or so carcases of
lynx that he’d boiled down after strip
ping off the valuable hides. But the
concoction proved a satisfying repast.
Pete was appreciating the luxury of the
snug old cabin; he never did believe in
being hampered in liis mashing with
excess baggage, so he bad left bis little
Yukon stove and tent at Circle and si
washed it. I passed him my tobacco, an
almost indUpensiMe necessity which he 1
had been without several days. Pete
shifted to a ni o r e comfortable seat on
our wolf robe bed, on the dry, rigid
poles of the hovel’s only bunk and for
the fourth time since we’d washed the
sapper things, fillde the big bowl of his
Alaska meershaum. He puffed prodig
iously, and as he gazed up at the rings
and other phantastical shapes in the
maze of thick smoke, his face with its
strong chin and nose, became reminis
cent. "Did I ever tell you ’bout my
trip into the Artie, with Lucky Ole,
huntin’ the Dntebman’s Lost Rocker?"
he began. As I piled wood into the
stove and opened both draughts I hast
ened to answer'in the negative.
"Well sir,, he continued, "that vhs
sure th’ toughest prop’sition I wus ever
up again an’ Pete's closest shave to
freezin’ an’ starvin to death to once.
Yon see, 'twas like this, we started from
Fort Yukon with a corkin dog team :n:
after about ten days fair goin we p'
ed camp away up at the head o :Le
Middle Fork o’ th’ Kobuk. Next morn
in, after chainin th’ malamutes we took
an axe an’ struck out on snoesboes. in
tendin’ to sort o' reconnoiter like an
see how th’ lay o’ th land compared
with the worn ont old map a dyin’ old
miner in the Forty Mile liad given to
Ole, Well sir, when we got to the sum
mit we hadn’t gone over half a mile
when th* fiercest blizzard I ever seen in
all triy travels came up on us in a jiffy.
Now, that was a real Arctic blizzard. I
amt goiu’ to describe! it, I couldn’t.
Well sir, mean Ole turned right back
pronto an made tracks lor camp; there
wnsn't no sign o’ our trail we’d just
made an’ we couldn’t see our hands in
frccit of us for snow. When we got to
where we thought we’d came up we
started down the steep mountain. Well
sir, o’ course we didn’t know it then,
but msteab o’ us going back along th’
main divide I’ll be danged if we hadn't
took along a high ridge, a spur that run
between two big cricks on th Artie
slope, an mind yon, we thought it was
our malamutes hcwlin for us when we
started down, but o’ course it was them
timber w olves.
Yessir! Well sir, ji^ewe'd wandered
around on th’ valley o’ the crick and
found out we was in wrong we’d lost all
sense o direction, an there wus we with
out a gnu even. Ole an 1 knew them
Arctic blizzards wusn’t over in a day.
Well 3ir, that howlin, blindin storm
kept us in our lean to, we’d built of big
spruce trees, o’ course we had matches
an' plenty o’ wood so we had a big fire
alius a roariu. 1 wanted to go out an
try an run down a rabbit or somethin
but Ole always pulled me back an called
me crazy; guess I must a ben, no livin’
thing would be out in that ragiii blizz
ard, an b’leive me, we sure wus weak
from hunger, I imagined Qle wus look
in at We like a cannibal when my back
was turned to him, an I suppose he
thought the sams about me. Well sir, 1
thin it wus the leventh day we’d gone
without a morsel o food, the wind
slackened and the snow let up some,
Ole muttered to himself in his own
langwidge an ravin about havin a hunch
which was the way back to our camp he,
put on his snow shoes, grabbed up th,.
aze an struck out in a bee line, still
talkin to himself, an I trailed behind,
If it would only clear up we could see
th Old Man an Old Woman mountain
and get our bearin. Well sir, we plodd
ed along in that straight line an we
came to w'hat looked like a little crick,
(Continued on page 4)
BREDLIE’S
Front Street
POOL AND CIGAR ROOMS
Next to Arcade Restaurant
Fairbanks Alaska