2 86 BIG GAME SHOOTING IN ALASKA chap. 



which only occupies a little over five days in the run from 

 New York to Plymouth, and is fitted with every luxury and 

 comfort that man's heart can desire, the life on board is 

 similar to that in a small town. 



Sufficient time is afforded on such a voyage to contemplate 

 leisurely the return once more to the old life at home in the 

 old country, to compare it with that through which we have 

 journeyed for many months since last leaving it, to live once 

 more in imagination through some of the stirring scenes 

 witnessed in a far-off land, when with rifle in hand we have 

 found ourselves face to face with some of the wildest and 

 grandest beasts on earth, when indeed for the nonce we have 

 felt the strange thrill and sensation of a quickening pulse, 

 now, alas, so rare and hard to rouse in the body of the average 

 man of the twentieth century, save only if he be a sportsman 

 and indulging in his favourite pastime. And after all, when 

 the trip is done, and the familiar shores of Albion are once 

 more in sight, the only sensation is that of real pleasure 

 on- approaching what, "in spite of all its faults," is still the 

 greatest country on earth, and the one which holds the first 

 place in the heart of every true Englishman. 



Full well we know that a few months, or even weeks, 

 spent in the tight little island, with its cramped life, its daily 

 decreasing possibilities of getting far from the madding 

 crowd, and the ever-increasing artificiality of the sports of 

 our ancestors, will soon reawaken in our hearts the longing 

 for distant climes. For, as my friend Major Cumberland 

 aptly describes it, " there is a disease (the Germans call it 

 Wanderlust) which no time can cure," and when once this 

 has taken hold of an individual, he knows no peace until he is 

 on the move once more. Alas, the sportsman is not able to 

 retain his pristine youth and strength beyond that of his 



