"The Return to Fort W^rangell 



We left our last camp November 21 at daybreak. 

 The weather was calm and bright. Wrangell Island 

 came into view beneath a lovely rosy sky, all the 

 forest down to the water's edge silvery gray with a 

 dusting of snow. John and Charley seemed to be 

 seriously distressed to find themselves at the end of 

 their journey while a portion of the stock of provis- 

 ions remained uneaten. "What is to be done about 

 it?" they asked, more than half in earnest. The fine, 

 strong, and specious deliberation of Indians was well 

 illustrated on this eventful trip. It was fresh every 

 morning. They all behaved well, however, exerted 

 themselves under tedious hardships without flinching 

 for days or weeks at a time; never seemed in the least 

 nonplussed; were prompt to act in every exigency; 

 good as servants, fellow travelers, and even friends. 



We landed on an island in sight of Wrangell and 

 built a big smoky signal fire for friends in town, then 

 set sail, unfurled our flag, and about noon completed 

 our long journey of seven or eight hundred miles. As 

 we approached the town, a large canoeful of friendly 

 Indians came flying out to meet us, cheering and 

 handshaking in lusty Boston fashion. The friends 

 of Mr. Young had intended to come out in a body to 

 welcome him back, but had not had time to complete 

 their arrangements before we landed. Mr. Young 

 was eager for news. I told him there could be no 

 news of importance about a town. We only had real 

 news, drawn from the wilderness. The mail steamer 

 had left Wrangell eight days before, and Mr. Vander- 

 bilt and family had sailed on her to Portland. I had 



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