IN GREEN ALASKA 



and throwing them into the boat. The salmon 

 glance and wriggle in the sun like bars of silver. 

 Bristling forests, tufted islands, snow-striped peaks 

 on every side. A soft, placid day, when nature broods 

 and dreams, both sea and shore wrapped in a pro- 

 found midsummer tranquillity." 



In the afternoon we anchored off a deserted In- 

 dian village north of Cape Fox. There v/as a row of 

 a dozen houses on the beach of a little bay, with 

 nineteen totem poles standing along their fronts. 

 These totem poles were the attraction. There was a 

 rumor that the Indians had nearly all died of small- 

 pox a few years before, and that the few survivors 

 had left under a superstitious fear, never to return. 

 It was evident that the village had not been occu- 

 pied for seven or eight years. Why not, therefore, 

 secure some of these totem poles for the museums of 

 the various colleges represented by members of the 

 expedition ? This was finally agreed upon, and all 

 hands, including the ship's crew, fell to digging up 

 and floating to the ship five or six of the more striking 

 poles. This occupied us till the night of the 27th. 



Under this date I find this entry in my note-book : 

 "All day on shore by the deserted Indian village. 

 Clear and hot. I sit in the shade of the spruces amid 

 huge logs of driftwood on the upper edge of the 

 beach, with several Indian graves at my back, under 

 the trees, and write up my notes, — the ship at 

 anchor out in the bay a mile away. Aided by the 



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