IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS 



conditions usually found here. It takes a man 

 of strong heart and stout limb to stalk the bear 

 and shoot the duck in this labyrinth of vine and 

 shrub entanglement in the rain and snow, which 

 are so prevalent here. Seattle with her thirty- 

 four inches of precipitation a year seems like an 

 arid country when compared with Ketchikan, 

 Juneau and Cordova, each of which piles up any- 

 where from 125 to 175 inches a year; while Colo- 

 rado, with her fifteen inches of moisture, is in- 

 deed "bone-dry" in comparison. A school 

 teacher at Ketchikan recently was explaining 

 about the Flood, saying that it rained for forty 

 days and forty nights, and that all on the earth 

 were drowned except those in the ark. One lit- 

 tle child spoke up, saying no one could make him 

 believe that story. "Why?" asked the teacher. 

 "Because," said the boy, "it's been raining here 

 every day the last ten years and nobody's been 

 drowned yet." 



The Colorado Museum of Natural History, 

 Denver, fostering a well-founded notion that it 

 should be second to no other such institution in 

 the West or Middle West, and harboring within 

 its organization some of America's greatest nat- 

 uralists, philanthropists and sportsmen, finished, 

 during the past three years, a beautiful and com- 

 modious wing to its already magnificent struc- 

 ture in Denver's City Park (a gift from Mrs. 

 Helen Standley — while Harry James and his sis- 

 ter, Mrs. Lemen, have donated $100,000 for a 



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