INTEODUCTION OF DOMESTIC REINDEER INTO ALASKA. 27 



tains of Asia. We had already passed south of Cape Tahipuiiski 

 (although the fog prevented us from seeing it) and were rapidly ap- 

 proaching the mouth of Avatcha Harbor. An anxious lookout was 

 kept for the land. At 12.30, noon, the officer of the deck thought he 

 saw a bold headland through the fog. A half hour later there was no 

 doubt about it; rocky cliffs loomed up all around us; the great moun- 

 tain range that incloses the bay like a gigantic amphitheater was par- 

 tially concealed by a curtain of fog. Afterwards, when, on the 23d, 

 we steamed out of the bay under a cloudless sky, great precipices of 

 rock appeared, walling in the waters of the sea, and great columns of 

 rock rising out of the sea stood like eternal sentinels guarding the 

 coast; range upon range of snow-covered mountains encircled Avatcha 

 Bay, crowned with the Avhite volcanic cones of Wilinchiniski (7,257 

 feet high), Kozelska (5,333 feet), Avatcha (0,081 feet), and Korianski 

 (11,106 feet); we stood as if entranced ))y the scene. Some day the 

 wonderful scenery of the Kamchatkan coast will attract thousands of 

 tourists. Soon the light-house on Dalni Point, 149 feet above the sea, 

 was made out; the light is used from April to October. The keeper's 

 residence is a long white building with its broadside to the sea; a tall 

 white colunm some distance in front of the residence shelters the 

 light. The two l)uildings are so placed that from the sea they repre- 

 sent a great white cross. Later the "" Brothers " — three great sentinel 

 rocks inside the heads — came into view; their tops were alive with sea- 

 gulls and sea parrots nesting and laying their eggs. Sweeping up the 

 bay and rounding Pinnach^ Rock, the sl^U village of Petropavlovsky 

 with its red and green and brown roofs was seen nestling at the foot of 

 the encircling mountains that stood guard around it. Isnenai Bay and 

 Point, Rakovya Point and Bay, were successively passed, and round- 

 ing to at 1.10 p. m., we came to anchor off the village cemetery. The 

 ship could have entered the inner harbor and anchored within a stone's 

 throw of the village, but did not. 



We were now in Siberia, the battle ground of the conquering Cossack 

 and free-booting Promyshlenki in their century's march across Asia. 

 In its northern and northwestern sections it is a dreary waste of low 

 rolling and frozen tundra; in its southern and central sections, a region 

 of rugged snow-covered and storm-swept mountains, the land of the 

 fierce howling poorga, of wild beasts and scattered tribes of brave, 

 hardy, and half -civilized people. 



Directly in front of our anchorage seven mountain brooks were 

 visible, tumbling down the mountain side and running through the 

 village, furnishing in summer, at least, an abundant supply of pure 

 water to the inhabitants. Shortly after, Mr. A. Jacovleff, bookkeeper 

 of the Russian Seal Company, came on board. He is a Russian, natu- 

 ralized as an American citizen, and is now engaged in business in Sibe- 

 ria. He, however, looks forward to making his home in California, 



