CHAPTER XXIII. 



MR. NEWCOMB'S NARRATIVE. 



A FTER the final arrangements we re completed, our voy- 

 J-JL. age to the frozen North was commenced on Tuesday, 

 July 8th, on which day, at ten minutes past four o'clock P.M., 

 the Jeannette slowly steamed away from San Francisco. 

 The harbor was lively with yachts, tugs, and other craft, 

 many of which accompanied us to the '' Gate." The high 

 parts of the city were thick with interested spectators. The 

 fort at the " Gate," made so golden by the beautiful sun, 

 saluted us as we passed. Soon the captain's wife bade us 

 good-bye, and the yacht Frolic left us amid cheers, and we 

 stood out into the broad Pacific. 



Our voyage was without interest until nearing the Aleu- 

 tian Islands. Ougalgan Island was the first to strike my 

 attention. Strange, wild, grand scenery burst upon our gaze 

 as the fog lifted on the afternoon of the 1st of August. We 

 were at anchor, and the boat Avas sent ashore to look over 

 the island. I was the first man to land, and as I jumped on 

 the rocky beach between the jagged headlands a scene of 

 indescribable beauty surrounded me. Thousands of birds 

 were in the air and screaming discordantly, for I was invad- 

 ing their nesting-place : glaucous-winged gulls, tufted and 

 Arctic puffins, guillemots, auks and murres. 



I can never forget the scene. On the right arose great 

 mountains, clad with snow ; on the left another mountain, a 

 volcano, was seen, from the top of which a thin stream of 

 blue smoke was slowly curling. Not a vestige of life save 

 the birds and myself. A great upheaval of nature marked 

 these Aleutian Islands. Central Pacific Railroad scenery 



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