IN THE ALASKA-YUKON GAMELANDS 



Next morning at 9 o'clock, after bidding fare- 

 well to Governor Riggs, his wife and Dr. Martin 

 (who were bound for Fairbanks), we departed 

 by rail for McCarthy — not, however, without 

 first inviting Mr. Corcoran and his party, also a 

 Mr. Davy of Denver, to join us in the private 

 car, thereby filling the places left vacant by the 

 first-named party. 



Aside from crossing a bridge that spanned a 

 gulch at a height of 238 feet and the sighting of 

 some goats (that later turned to stone) on the 

 nearby mountains by Rogers and William, the 

 trip to McCarthy was without incident. We 

 arrived there (elevation, 1,440 feet, 250 popula- 

 tion, and 189 miles from Cordova) at 2:30 p. m. 

 Cap Hubrick, our guide, was the first to meet us. 

 It seemed but the work of two or three hours to 

 get properly quartered at the hotel and look 

 over and sort out our hunting duffel. 



While we were engaged at this very interesting 

 occupation the various members of the working 

 end of the "dramatis personae" — as Bill Shakes- 

 peare would put it — straggled in. As these men 

 had much to do with our hunt, and as their 

 names will frequently occur in the references to 

 our daily experiences, I shall name them in the 

 order in which we met them, after first devoting 

 a paragraph to Cap Hubrick, our outfitter. 



Cap is a man of 62; five feet ten inches, 190 

 pounds, whose history, if accurately recorded, 

 would contain much of tragedy, drama and pa- 



32 



