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THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



-the tide. Thus even the brine of the 

 ocean had no restorative effect. 



In such bays, owing to the higher tem- 

 perature and the greater buoyancy of the 

 salt water, the dead and dying salmon 

 usually floated on the surface, and it was 

 a gruesome sight to see hundreds of 

 gulls, poised on wing, awaiting the mo- 

 ment when they could aHght safely upon 

 the body of a fish and pluck out both its 

 eyes, as it rolled over and over in the 

 final struggle. 



That death should be the penalty of 

 parentage for all the salmon of the Pa- 

 cific is generally regarded as one of na- 

 ture's mysteries, and deepened by the 

 safe return of the North Atlantic salmon 

 to the sea. 



But in this number of this Magazine 

 appears an article by one of the leading 

 fisla experts of the country, Dr. Hugh 

 M. Smith, Deputy Commissioner U. S. 

 Bureau of Fisheries, and therein is ex- 

 plained why the salmon of adjoining 

 oceans meet a different fate in the rivers 

 of the North. 



THE WHITE SHEEP OF KENAI PENINSUEA 



Before taking up the narrative of the 

 happenings in the sheep country, it may 

 be well to state the plans arranged in 

 advance. 



On examining game pictures from 

 Alaska, I was struck by the scarcity of 

 those representing the white sheep, either 

 singly or in flocks. As hundreds of the 

 most experienced sportsmen, from nearly 

 all countries, had pursued these animals, 

 I had considerable doubt of success, even 

 though having a marked advantage in a 

 better equipment and in making my main 

 object what in the case of the others was 

 largely incidental. 



Therefore I decided to locate and study 

 the animals first, with the purpose of 

 securing information about their habits 

 and then, if possible, making use of the 

 knowledge thus acquired to get within 

 photographic range. Otherwise it might 

 happen that were I to immediately begin 

 harassing the sheep with the camera at 

 close range I would get neither pictures 

 nor information. 



Ten days were spent in the mountains, 

 four of which were entirely used in going 



and coming; and, while the six days de- 

 voted to sheep, and incidentally to ptar- 

 migan, resulted in a fair collection of 

 pictures, the results, I think, fully justi- 

 fied the procedure laid out in advance 

 and mentioned now specifically with the 

 view of aiding those who, in days to 

 come, may wish to visit the scene of 

 these brief but strenuous efforts. 



Several days before starting for the 

 interior, my old Michigan guide, John 

 Hammer, joined us. His long-continued 

 trips into the wildernecs, and in this 

 instance reinforced by his Norwegian 

 blood, made the call of the North irre- 

 sistible. The addition of a third man, 

 just as we were about to undertake the 

 hardest part of the journey, proved for- 

 tunate, and greater still when the swift 

 waters of the Kenai River had to be 

 overcome on our return to Seward. 



At 6 o'clock on the morning of August, 

 5 we were ready to leave Double-bay 

 camp for a ten days' trip to the sheep 

 country; and, with Tom and John in the 

 heavy skiff and Charlie and the author in 

 the canoe, the start was made for the 

 southeast corner of the lake, just oppo- 

 site the bird islands. The weather was 

 bright and the barometer still predicted a 

 continuation of the fine weather, so ex- 

 ceptional in weeks past. 



On rounding the point we saw, in the 

 morning light, the black and frowning 

 features of volcanic Redoubt, and, a little 

 further seaward, Iliamna's snowy peaks, 

 loo miles distant and on the other side 

 of Cook Inlet. Our immediate destina- 

 tion, Cottonwood Creek, was reached in 

 less than two hours, where, after placing 

 our surplus outfit on a porcupine and 

 bear-proof platform, made by Tom the 

 previous season, a start was made up the 

 mountain creek. This stream originates 

 in a big snow field just beyond the divide, 

 over which we had to pass on the way to 

 Benjamin Creek, the location of Tom's 

 cabin, where he lived during a long and 

 vain search for gold. Though no valu- 

 able metals were found, the locality is 

 memorialized on the map by calling the 

 creek Benjamin, the Christian name of 

 his eldest brother. 



The ascent was a hard one, for the day 

 was hot, the underbrush a nuisance, and 



