THE VOYAGE OF THE HASSLER 143 



a little anxious for a while. Provisions are low; we 

 vibrate between mussel soup, mussel currie, mussels 

 on the shell, and pork and beans; salt beef out, pota- 

 toes very nearly so, butter has not been heard of for 

 a long time. Once in a while a very fishy duck or goose 

 varies our fare, but our larder is really not in such a 

 condition that we could be caught here for two or 

 three weeks without being somewhat at a loss even 

 for bread, since flour too is getting very near the bot- 

 tom of the barrel. However, after an hour's delay the 

 engine was so far repaired that we could proceed, the 

 weather cleared, and we had a beautiful afternoon for 

 the most imposing scenery we have yet seen. My de- 

 scriptions would be mere repetition. You must imag- 

 ine a river repeating on its shores mile after mile and 

 hour after hour a panorama of which the foreground 

 is of low hills forest-covered, then a line of very 

 rugged precipitous rocky heights, then a chain of 

 snow mountains behind with very many glaciers in 

 which even with the naked eye you can see the blue 

 color of the ice and the rifts and crevasses that trav- 

 erse it. Through scenes like these we have come to 

 our harborage tonight, a romantic inlet full of islands 

 and coves and windings, in what is called "Owen's 

 Island." A boat has just returned from a shooting 

 expedition, bringing what Agassiz has exceedingly 

 desired, a "steamer duck," many of which were 

 swimming about when we came in. They shoot 

 through the water with wonderful rapidity, going 

 long distances at a time, and leaving trails behind 

 them like a little boat. They are immense birds, the 



