A CHROMATIC BEAR HUNT 



ment: there were a great many bears up 

 near those glaciers, for it seemed there were 

 rapids of some sort where the animals came 

 to fish during the salmon time; so many of 

 them, in fact, that the banks were seamed 

 with trails and the rocks worn smooth by their 

 feet. 



I still had some eight thousand Alaskan 

 miles to do that summer, so I could stay there 

 no longer, but the determination to see those 

 glaciers at close range and to examine those 

 bear tracks had grown upon me steadily. I 

 had told Fred of them, and it was thither we 

 were heading now. Hence the mosquito 

 tents, the ammunition, and the soulful bear 

 dogs. 



For five days we plowed northward on a 

 typical ratty Alaskan steamer, a thing of 

 creaks and odors and vermin. On a drizzly 

 May morning we docked at Cordova, the town 

 which had sprung up at the terminus of Mr. 

 Heney's railroad. The road was not really Mr. 

 Heney's, but belonged to the Morgan-Guggen- 

 heim interests, being destined to haul copper 

 from their mines two hundred miles inland. 

 Mr. Heney was building it for them, however, 

 and everybody looked upon it as his personal 

 4 43 



