Scc7i ic Gra ndeu r of A laska 245 



next morning I awakened at four o'clock, and look- 

 ing out saw that we were running close to land that 

 was covered with trees — so close that I could have 

 thrown a biscuit into the woods. It was a very- 

 pleasant sight. These were the first trees I had 

 seen since leaving the Puget Sound. One does not 

 appreciate trees till he has been without them for a 

 month or two. 



I have all the time a sub-consciousness that I am 

 not conveying to the reader an idea of the novelty 

 and peculiarity of this Alaskan coast. Let me 

 begin at the top of the scenery and try. The top 

 is snow. Wherever you look you will see snowy 

 mountains, not monotonous white, but white snow 

 and black rocks in every conceivable variation of 

 outline. On that mountain-side you can see "$X" 

 plain as you could write it — that is "ten dollars." 

 There is a line of hieroglyphics beginning with a 

 Gibsonian F, I try to spell it out, but it has too 

 many of the letters w, v, y, and x. There is a 

 capital C very well drawn. I will anticipate 

 another, seen later, which I photographed, and 

 which I hope will come out well when I get home 

 to develop and print it. It is one of Gibson's New 

 York belles, dressed in the height of fashion, and 

 putting on Broadway airs. My friends will have a 

 laugh at it, as we did, if only I have succeeded. 

 She was about a quarter of a mile tall, but a good 

 way off. Always back of and among these moun- 

 tains of mixed snow and black rock, one will see a 



