IN GREEN ALASKA 



window he is more occupied with the distant and 

 the past. How rapidly those two slender steel rails 

 do spin beneath us, and how inadequate they 

 seem to sustain and guide this enormous throbbing 

 and roaring monster which we feel laboring and 

 panting at our backs. The rails seem ridiculously 

 small and slender for such a task ; surely, they 

 wUl bend and crumple up or be torn from the ties. 

 The peril seems imminent, and it is some time be- 

 fore one gets over the feeling. During this ride of 

 twenty-five miles we struck two birds — homed 

 larks — and barely missed several mourning doves. 

 A big hawk sat on the ground near the track eating 

 some small animal, probably a ground squirrel. 

 He was startled by our sudden approach, and in 

 flying across the track came so near being hit by 

 the engine that he was frightened into dropping his 

 quarry. Later in the day others of the party rode 

 upon the front of the engine, and each saw birds 

 struck and killed by it. The one ever-present bird 

 across the continent, even in the most desolate places, 

 is the mourning dove. From Indiana to Oregon, 

 at almost any moment, these doves may be seen fly- 

 ing away from the train. 



SHOSHONE FALLS AND CANTON 



The fourth day from home we reached the great 

 plains of the Snake River in southern Idaho, and 

 stopped at Shoshone to visit the Shoshone Falls. 

 9 



