ALASKA INDUSTRIES. 11 



climate, coupled with the perfect isolation and the exceeding fitness 

 of the ground, is due, without doubt, that preference manifested by 

 the warm-blooded animals which come here every year in thousands 

 and hundreds of thousands to breed, to the practical exclusion of 

 all other ground. 



A large amount of information in regard to the climate of these 

 islands has been collected and recorded by the Signal Service, United 

 States Army, and similar observations are still continued by the agents 

 of the Alaska Commercial Company. I simply remark here that the 

 winter which I passed upon St. Paul Island (1872-73) was one of great 

 severity, and, according to the natives, such as is very seldom experi- 

 enced. Cold as it was, however, the lowest marking of the thermometer 

 was only 13° F. below zero, and that lasted but a few hours during a 

 single day in February, while the mean of that month was 18° above. 

 I found that March was the coldest month. Then the mean was 12° 

 above, and I have since learned that March continues to be the mean- 

 est month of the year. The lowest average of a usual winter i-anges 

 from 22° to 26° above zero; but these quiet figures are simply inade- 

 quate to impress the reader with the exceeding discomfort of the winter 

 in that locality. It is the wind that tortures and cripj)les outdoor 

 exercise there, as it does on all the seacoast and islands of Alaska. It 

 is blowing, blowing, from every point of the compass, at all times; it 

 is an everlasting succession of furious gales, laden with snow and 

 sleety spiculfc, whirling in great drifts to-day, while to-morrow the 

 "boorga" will blow from a quarter directly opposite, and reverse its 

 rift building of the day preceding. 



Without being cold enough to suffer, one is literally confined and 

 chained to his room from December until Aj)ril by this teolian tension. 

 I remember very well that during the winter of 1872-73 I was watch- 

 ing, with all the impatience which a man in full health and tired of 

 confinement can possess, every opportunity to seize upon quiet inter- 

 vals between the storms in which I could make short trips along the 

 tracks over which I was habituated to walk during the summer; yet, 

 in all that hyemal season I got out but three times, and then only by 

 the exertion of great physical energy. On a day in March, for exam- 

 ple, the velocity of the wind at St. Paul, recorded by one of the Signal- 

 Service anemometers, was at the rate of 88 miles per hour, with as low 

 a temperature as — 4°! This particular windstorm, with snow, blew 

 at such a velocity for six daj's, without an hour's cessation, while the 

 natives passed from house to house crawling on all fours. No man 

 could stand up against it and no man wanted to. At a much higher 

 temperature — say at 15° or 16° above zero — with the wind blowing only 

 20 o.r 25 miles an hour, it is necessary, when journeying, to be most 

 thoroughly wrapped up to guard against freezing. 



As I have said, there are here virtually but two seasons — winter 

 and summer. To the former belongs November and the following 

 months up to the end of April, with a mean temperature of 20° to 28°; 

 while the transition of summer is but a very slight elevation of that 

 temperature, not more than 15° or 20°. Of the summer months, July, 

 perhaps, is the warmest, with an average temperature between 46° 

 and 50° in ordinary seasons. When the sun breaks out through the 

 fog, and bathes the dripping, water-soaked hills and flats of the island 

 in its hot flood of light, I have known the thermometer to rise to 60° 

 and 64° in the shade, while the natives crawled out of the fervent and 

 unwonted heat, anathematizing its brilliancy and potency. Sunshine 

 does them no good ; for, like the seals, they seem under its influence 



