he was doubly so when 

 he returned safely, 

 having actually looked 

 into "The Hole" out 

 of which had come 

 the devastating blast. 

 Even W alter, how- 

 ever, was very nerv- 

 ous on the crater rim, 

 keeping sheltered be- 

 hind a rock a good 

 share of the time and 

 shifting about uneasily 

 as he watched us 

 work, finally remark- 

 ing when he thought 

 we had overstayed our 

 time, "Can't make 

 nothing up here." 



THE BEAR HUNTER OF 

 KODIAK 



Walter was one of 

 those strong char- 

 acters whom one finds 

 among all classes, who 

 stand out superior to 

 their fellows. De- 

 prived of his right 

 hand by a hunting ac- 

 cident in his youth, he 

 has so overcome the 

 handicap that with 

 his one hand he can 

 accomplish more than 

 most men with two 

 We found nothing he 

 could not do, even to 

 tying knots and roll- 

 ing cigarettes. 



But when there 

 came a place where 

 we needed some one to handle a boat I 

 supposed that finally I had found his 

 limit, for I could not imagine how any 

 man could handle two oars in one hand. 

 Not so, however, for in a flash he had 

 somehow lashed one oar to his stub and 

 was rowing along as well as anybody. 



The general appearance of the country 

 was much the same as it had been the 

 year before ; but the mountains were 

 greener, and even on the flat seedlings 

 were beginning to start. When we began 

 to examine old landmarks, however, we 

 found that while the general appearances 

 were unaltered, there had been great 

 changes in detail. 



Photograph by R. F. Griggs 

 DEAD INSECTS UNDER A SOLITARY TUET OF HERBAGE IN THE 

 UPPER VALLEY 



Under these plants was half a teacupful of dead insects of many 

 species (seen as black spots on the ground), which had been at- 

 tracted by the isolated herbage and come thither in a vain search 

 for food. Perhaps the most striking change in the upper valley 

 observed in 1916 was the great abundance of insects, where there 

 had been practically none the year before. 



The site of our camp of the previous 

 year we found buried under 20 inches of 

 fresh pumice, washed off the mountain 

 side, while a stream had cut its bed across 

 the place where our tent had stood. The 

 year before this stream had been 50 yards 

 distant and we never dreamed that it 

 might come our way. As we journeyed 

 up the valley, we found other similar 

 changes, but the general conditions were 

 but little different. 



Soluka Creek was the same maze of 

 quicksands that had almost turned us back 

 the year before. I must confess that as 

 many times as we crossed Soluka Creek 

 I never g-ot used to it. Although we 



47 



