TWO DIANAS IN ALASKA 129 



Never country, because our pilot spun us such in- 

 spiriting yarns about the numbers of bears bagged in 

 the region last season. 



We landed with tents, a bidarka, and Steve in 

 attendance, on a waste of sand, water, and tundra. 

 There were no sticks big enough to support our 

 canvas residences, and it looked like camping out in 

 the open until, fortunately, after wandering along 

 the coast line for a mile or more, we came on a native 

 burial ground, and borrowed some of the poles we 

 found set up over the graves. The natives arrange 

 that the poles shall be tall enough to show above the 

 snow in winter, for they will not walk over the dead. 

 On one or two graves a row of spears and a paddle 

 were placed, on others nothing. We thought it must 

 be that the men only are given the advantage of 

 implements to be of use to them in the Happy Hunt- 

 ing Grounds. 



Here gum-boots were stern necessities. I found 

 them most uncomfortable of foot-gear, but we should 

 certainly have got very wet without their protection. 

 Salmon, flocking to the rivers, lay dead in dozens 

 all along the reaches, and we wandered in and out 

 among the decaying bodies searching for bear tracks. 

 Anxiety over the commissariat was quite set at rest, 

 for we had salmon, salmon, and again salmon for 

 the taking. The Leader annexed a monster fish, 

 wresting it from a bald-headed eagle, to whom by all 

 the laws of first blood the trophy belonged. I 

 watched the struggle from camp. The eagle was 

 endeavouring to dig his talons deeply into the silver 



