IN GREEN ALASKA 



through rents in the ice, and inundate thousands of 

 square miles of surface, extending even to the Co- 

 lumbia, three hundred miles distant. This old lava 

 bed is now an undulating sagebrush plain, appear- 

 ing here and there in broken, jagged outcroppings, 

 or in broad, flat plates like a dark, cracked pave- 

 ment still in place, though partly hidden under a 

 yellowish brown soil. The road was a crooked one, 

 but fairly good. Its course far ahead was often 

 marked to us by a red line visible here and there 

 upon the dull green plain. Flowers, flowers every- 

 where under the sagebrush, covered the ground. 

 The effect was as of a rough garment with a thin, 

 many-colored silk lining. Great patches of lupine, 

 then the delicate fresh bloom of a species of phlox, 

 then larkspur, then areas of white, yellow, and 

 purple flowers of many kinds. It is a surprise to 

 Eastern eyes to see a land without turf, yet so dotted 

 with vegetation. It is as if all these things grew in a 

 plowed field, or in the open road ; the bare soil is 

 everywhere visible around them. The bunch grass 

 does not make a turf, but grows in scattered tufts 

 like bunches of green bristles. Nothing is crowded. 

 Every shrub and flower has a free space about it. 

 The horsemen and horsewomen careered gayly 

 ahead, or lingered behind, resting and botanizing 

 amid the brush. The dust from the leading vehicles 

 was seen rising up miles in advance. We saw an 

 occasional coyote slink away amid the sagebruish. 



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