^Win^ tl^e Ctwentt^fift]^ 



T/ie Alaskan Mines 



MY last concluded with our escape from the 

 fog into Cross Sound, the northernmost 

 channel out of the wonderful labyrinth 

 into the ocean. As between a fog and a storm 

 I would take the storm any time, either on the 

 dangerous Alaskan coast or on the highway be- 

 tween New York and Liverpool. A strong ship 

 will ride the waves and defy the gale ; but drift- 

 ing in a black fog, she is subject to invisible 

 enemies, sinuous and slimy, whose bite is fatal. 

 The mouth of Cross Sound is narrow and rocky, 

 which accounted for the captain's refusal to try it 

 without a clear view, but it widens grandly. To 

 the left was the Glacier Bay, at the head of it the 

 celebrated Muir, dimly visible. Passing this the 

 sound narrows somewhat and is called Icy Strait, 

 because of the many icebergs which float out from 

 Glacier Bay. We counted thirty of them, all in 

 view at the same time. The top surface of the ice- 

 bergs seemed to be thickly covered with moss, an 

 impression which a good glass only confirmed. But 

 as we neared one the steam-whistle was blown, and 

 instantly the moss became a cloud! The sea-birds 

 had been sitting with their bare, webbed feet on the 



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