284 BREWER 



light. I have in mind one evening while on the way up, 

 the half full moon when rising seemed poised, as it were, 

 on the very summit of a low peak which was but a short 

 distance inland. The dark crags of the peak were sharply 

 cut on the intensely white face of the planet, which by the 

 contrast, seemed even brighter than when in mid-sky. A 

 year before, I had watched the moon rise and set behind 

 the mountains of the Mont Blanc group. Although it 

 seemed clear and bright in that mountain atmosphere, yet 

 it was not so white as we saw it in Alaska. Mont Blanc 

 has densely populated countries on all sides of it, the 

 smoke from cities and towns, the dust from highways and 

 tilled fields, the various kinds of pollution which civilized 

 regions furnish, affected the atmosphere sufficiently to be 

 seen even on the whiteness and brightness of the moon. 

 The Queen of Night keeps her whitest robes for dis- 

 play in the higher latitudes. It is, however, only fair to 

 say that on our way home, by the time we reached Yaku- 

 tat the forest fires had already begun inland and the moon 

 rose with a blushing face. 



The peculiar clearness of the air lends a special charm 

 to the near views of a flower clad landscape. Examples 

 of this we often had on the islands. But the more distant 

 landscapes lack the softening shades we are familiar 

 with at home; their beauty is of entirely another kind but 

 not less interesting. They lack the soothing quality of the 

 landscapes in hazy air, such as we have in warmer cli- 

 mates and more populous countries, where landscapes fade 

 away by insensible gradation into the dreamy distance, 

 and the horizon is indefinite and mysterious. In Alaska, 

 the horizon often seems wonderfully close to us even 

 when we know it is distant. We are so accustomed at 

 home to see distant objects more dimly because of the 

 haze, that we think objects must be near if they are sharply 

 distinct. 



