At Orca 249 



downward curve dropped from the two corners, 

 which thus become pinnacles. These two rocks are 

 so much like human architecture, and they are so 

 enormous, that the first glance startles one. As I 

 looked at them I thought of the pother that is made 

 over the little pyramid of Cheops in Egypt. Why, 

 if Cheops were stuck against the side of the 

 pyramid of Shishaldon or of Pobloff one would want 

 to get at it to brush it off with a feather duster. 



Now we were heading for Orca in Prince Wil- 

 liam's Sound. I thought the approach to Orca, 

 though not so pretty as that to St. Paul, to be quite 

 as interesting. We were sailing up a wide bay, 

 very noble looking and leading far inland. We 

 were heading for the middle of a mountain at the 

 end of the bay. Where was Orca? I could see all 

 sides of the sound now, but there was no sign of a 

 cabin, much less of a town. I sighted along the 

 mast to see the ship turning, but straight ahead she 

 went, right up to that mountain. Then she turned 

 sharply, went around it, and there was Orca, snug- 

 gled up in the safest nook, where neither wind nor 

 wave could reach her — a big cannery, not much 

 else. 



A great surprise awaited us. At one side of the 

 dock lay a splendid ship, with every mark of the 

 highest finish and luxury, a beautiful object. Ele- 

 gant launches in spick-and-span-new linens were 

 moving here and there. Finely dressed ladies flit- 

 ted along the corridors. There were absurd canvas 



