CHAPTER XII 



THE RETURN TO FORT WRANGELL 



THE day of our start for Wrangell was bright and 

 the Hoon, the north wind, strong. We passed 

 around the east side of the larger island which lies 

 near the south extremity of the point of land be- 

 tween the Chilcat and the Chilcoot channels and 

 thence held a direct course down the east shore of 

 the canal. At sunset we encamped in a small bay at 

 the head of a beautiful harbor three or four miles 

 south of Berner's Bay, and the next day, being Sun- 

 day, we remained in camp as usual, though the wind 

 was fair and it is not a sin to go home. The Indians 

 spent most of the day in washing, mending, eating, 

 and singing hymns with Mr. Young, who also gave 

 them a Bible lesson, while I wrote notes and sketched. 

 Charley made a sweathouse and all the crew got good 

 baths. This is one of the most delightful little bays 

 we have thus far enjoyed, girdled with tall trees 

 whose branches almost meet, and with views of pure- 

 white mountains across the broad, river-like canal. 



Seeing smoke back in the dense woods, we went 

 ashore to seek it and discovered a Hootsenoo whiskey- 

 factory in full blast. The Indians said that an old 

 man, a friend of theirs, was about to die and they were 

 making whiskey for his funeral. 



Our Indians were already out of oily flesh, which 

 they regard as a necessity and consume in enormous 



