A sourdough story of unusual interest was told recently to The Anchorage Times by Capt. Bill Moore, noted pioneer of sixty years residence in Alaska who recently passed away at the Pioneer's Home at Sitka. Capt. Bill's tale was as follows:

In the month of November, 1900, I was living at the mouth of the Yukon River, in a small settlement called Kenekerinook.

I had recently returned from a trip up the Kuskokwim River to a village called Kolomkoski, and was sitting in my house in the late afternoon when a native boy rushed in and very excitedly exclaimed "White man come, one white man ketchum great big dog, big sled; two white men, small dogs and sled."

I went outside and saw approaching an ordinary dog team driven by two men and also a horse and sleigh with one white man in command. The native boy had never seen a horse before and, naturally called it a big dog since dogs were the only draft animals about which he knew.

The horse had been driven from Nome, along the beach of Bering Sea, around the head of Norton Sound to St. Michael, thence to my place, a distance of about 460 miles.

When leaving Nome some grain had been provided for the horse but not enough for the entire trip, and before reaching St. Michael, they had been feeding it rolled oats and corn meal from their outfits supplemented by as much dry hay as they could procure from the natives, who always have a quantity on hand since they use it for inner soles in the mukluks.

Between Nome and St. Michael there had been no shelter for the horse at night and as a result of scanty food and exposure the poor beast was quite "all in" when St. Michael was reached. Here, however, he was fed grain and given a rest until he was in shape for another pull when they proceeded and reached my place as before stated having grain enough left for two of three more days' feeding.

The legs of the horse were badly lacerated from contact with the crust of the snow besides which he had broken through the ice once, and was in a poor condition for the trip to the Yellow River, a tributary of the Kuskowim, whither they were bound and which was several days' travel distant.

From my place they went up the Yukon River to Russian Mission where the portage to the Kuskowim is short and which was the route unusually followed by travelers in those days. Eight days were consumed in making this distance, and the men decided to trade the horse for dogs if they could possibly do so.

At the mission a Russian trader named Anesian Belkoff kept a store and trading post, and although the horse was badly used up, a trade was made, he giving three dogs for the horse.

The white men went their way and our story does not concern them from this point.

Belkoff said to his native wife: "See I have a horse and have got rid of three of my poorest dogs. I shall have a lot of wood cut by the natives and the horse will haul it to the river bank where the river steamers will pick it up next summer. He will haul big loads."

"What are you going to feed him?" asked his wife.

"Why," said Belkoff, "in Siberia they feed horses dry salmon mixed with flour; I reckon I can do it here."

So the horse had a roof under which to sleep, and he was fed to the best of Belkoff's ability and means, but, alas in a few days he refused to eat and laid down and died.

Belkoff was furious with rage. "The dirty white men" said he "playing me such a trick as that. Hell. Come on wife; let's drag him out and cut him up; anyway he'll make good dog feed and I will probably get enough horse meat to take the place of five dollars worth of salmon."

"Yes, said one of the natives "and you are short of skins for mukluks; let's skin him."

"Sure thing," said Belkoff; "his skin will make at least ten pairs of mukluk soles, and they will be worth over ten dollars."

Then his wife broke in, grabbing the tail, "give me this" and touching the mane "and this; they are just what I want for fancy bead work, which the white folks who come in the summer time like so much. I can make ten or fifteen dollars worth of things to sell out of it."

"Ha, Ha," cried Belkoff, we will get the carver to make cribbage boards from the jawbones; that's another fifteen or twenty dollars."

Then a native bystander said "clean and dry the stomach; it will make a good drum for our dance house. That's another three dollars. You can also use the bones for sinkers on your nets under the ice," as bone is sometimes used for this purpose being cheaper than lead.

"Give me the intestines," said the wife, "I will make a rain coat from them. Save the sinews too for thread"