﻿THE 
  FIRST 
  ALASKAN 
  AIR 
  EXPEDITION 
  

  

  537 
  

  

  our 
  way. 
  Just 
  as 
  we 
  were 
  leaving 
  the 
  

   town 
  on 
  our 
  course 
  to 
  Prince 
  George, 
  I 
  

   noticed 
  great 
  quantities 
  of 
  smoke 
  issuing 
  

   from 
  the 
  rear 
  end 
  of 
  my 
  motor. 
  Be- 
  

   lieving 
  I 
  was 
  on 
  fire, 
  I 
  side-slipped 
  in- 
  

   stantly; 
  then, 
  turning 
  the 
  controls 
  of 
  the 
  

   machine 
  over 
  to 
  Sergeant 
  Henriques, 
  I 
  

   seized 
  the 
  fire-extinguisher, 
  left 
  my 
  seat, 
  

   and 
  crawled 
  forward 
  to 
  get 
  a 
  shot 
  at 
  the 
  

   flames. 
  A 
  shower 
  of 
  oil 
  from 
  the 
  engine 
  

   had 
  covered 
  the 
  wings 
  and 
  struts. 
  They 
  

   were 
  so 
  slippery 
  with 
  oil 
  I 
  could 
  not 
  get 
  

   far 
  enough 
  out 
  to 
  use 
  the 
  extinguisher. 
  

  

  I 
  frantically 
  signaled 
  Henriques 
  to 
  head 
  

   for 
  the 
  river, 
  crawled 
  back 
  into 
  my 
  cock- 
  

   pit, 
  and 
  prayed 
  for 
  the 
  intervention 
  of 
  

   Providence. 
  Providence 
  replied 
  in 
  the 
  

   nick 
  of 
  time 
  to 
  save 
  us 
  from 
  a 
  ducking. 
  

   At 
  about 
  200 
  feet 
  above 
  the 
  water 
  the 
  

   smoke 
  suddenly 
  ceased. 
  For 
  the 
  fraction 
  

   of 
  a 
  second 
  I 
  waited 
  for 
  more 
  smoke 
  to 
  

   follow. 
  None 
  came. 
  

  

  I 
  seized 
  the 
  controls, 
  righted 
  the 
  ma- 
  

   chine, 
  and 
  made 
  back 
  over 
  the 
  field, 
  

   skimming 
  the 
  tree-tops 
  for 
  the 
  landing 
  

   field 
  and 
  mosquitoes 
  and 
  Chinese 
  cook. 
  

   The 
  others, 
  following 
  their 
  orders, 
  had 
  

   continued 
  on 
  their 
  way 
  to 
  Prince 
  George. 
  

  

  The 
  fault 
  was 
  discovered 
  to 
  be 
  in 
  cold 
  

   oil 
  which 
  had 
  caused 
  some 
  back 
  pressure 
  

   in 
  the 
  tank, 
  causing 
  an 
  overflow 
  on 
  hot 
  

   exhaust 
  pipes. 
  Making 
  everything 
  secure 
  

   again, 
  we 
  took 
  off 
  for 
  the 
  second 
  time 
  

   shortly 
  after 
  1 
  o'clock, 
  the 
  sky 
  in 
  the 
  

   meantime 
  becoming 
  overcast 
  with 
  storm 
  

   clouds. 
  

  

  Along 
  the 
  valley 
  of 
  the 
  Miette 
  we 
  were 
  

   carried 
  forward 
  by 
  a 
  favoring 
  wind. 
  The 
  

   lovely 
  snow-capped 
  mountain, 
  recently 
  

   named 
  Mt. 
  Edith 
  Cavell, 
  towered 
  above 
  

   us. 
  Myriads 
  of 
  small 
  lakes 
  were 
  visible, 
  

   as 
  we 
  climbed 
  higher, 
  cradled 
  between 
  

   ridges 
  and 
  mountains 
  covered 
  with 
  snow. 
  

   We 
  were 
  fast 
  approaching 
  the 
  crest 
  of 
  the 
  

   Great 
  Divide. 
  

  

  We 
  passed 
  directly 
  over 
  Lake 
  Lucerne, 
  

   a 
  remarkable 
  little 
  body 
  of 
  water 
  which 
  

   lies 
  on 
  the 
  very 
  top 
  of 
  the 
  Divide. 
  In 
  

   fact, 
  the 
  east 
  end 
  of 
  Lake 
  Lucerne 
  drains 
  

   into 
  the 
  Miette, 
  while 
  the 
  west 
  end 
  flows 
  

   into 
  a 
  tributary 
  of 
  the 
  Fraser 
  River 
  and 
  

   eventually 
  reaches 
  the 
  Pacific 
  Ocean. 
  

  

  OVER 
  THE 
  GREAT 
  DIVIDE 
  

  

  In 
  spite 
  of 
  all 
  my 
  precautions, 
  we 
  ran 
  

   the 
  gantlet 
  of 
  two 
  or 
  three 
  snow- 
  and 
  

   rain-storms 
  before 
  reaching 
  the 
  Yellow- 
  

  

  head 
  Pass, 
  through 
  which 
  our 
  route 
  led 
  

   us 
  to 
  the 
  western 
  side 
  of 
  the 
  Divide. 
  

  

  Yellowhead 
  Pass 
  is, 
  perhaps, 
  the 
  low- 
  

   est 
  pass 
  in 
  the 
  Rocky 
  Mountains. 
  It 
  lies 
  

   only 
  3,400 
  feet 
  above 
  sea-level. 
  \Ye 
  

   cleared 
  the 
  rocks 
  and 
  bushes 
  by 
  less 
  than 
  

   1,000 
  feet, 
  noting 
  on 
  each 
  side 
  the 
  actual 
  

   dividing 
  crests 
  that 
  permitted 
  one 
  rivulet 
  

   of 
  snow 
  water 
  to 
  begin 
  its 
  flow 
  to 
  the 
  At- 
  

   lantic, 
  while 
  another 
  was 
  sent 
  to 
  swell 
  the 
  

   tides 
  of 
  the 
  Pacific. 
  

  

  Down 
  the 
  valley 
  of 
  the 
  Fraser 
  as 
  far 
  as 
  

   Urling, 
  a 
  spot 
  upon 
  my 
  map, 
  we 
  hastened 
  

   at 
  no 
  miles 
  per 
  hour. 
  We 
  were 
  going 
  

   down 
  the 
  western 
  slope. 
  We 
  had 
  crossed 
  

   the 
  Canadian 
  Rockies. 
  

  

  A 
  SOET 
  RIVER 
  EOR 
  EMERGENCY 
  ! 
  

  

  While 
  a 
  forced 
  landing 
  in 
  this 
  wilder- 
  

   ness, 
  so 
  remote 
  from 
  human 
  habitation, 
  

   was 
  the 
  constant 
  thought 
  which 
  had 
  

   weighed 
  upon 
  my 
  spirits 
  each 
  day 
  since 
  

   starting 
  from 
  New 
  York, 
  now 
  that 
  the 
  

   crossing 
  was 
  actually 
  accomplished. 
  We 
  

   flew 
  along 
  with 
  the 
  blithest 
  unconcern. 
  

   Here 
  was 
  a 
  soft 
  river 
  below 
  us. 
  which 
  

   would 
  do 
  if 
  the 
  emergency 
  came. 
  

  

  Both 
  sides 
  of 
  us 
  the 
  atmosphere 
  was 
  

   filled 
  with 
  the 
  smoke 
  of 
  forest 
  fires. 
  Deep 
  

   growths 
  of 
  Douglas 
  fir, 
  spruce, 
  and 
  pine 
  

   covered 
  these 
  magnificent 
  mountains. 
  I 
  

   noticed 
  with 
  much 
  surprise 
  that 
  the 
  smell 
  

   of 
  the 
  burning 
  spruce 
  was 
  plainly 
  discern- 
  

   ible 
  at 
  my 
  altitude 
  of 
  8,000 
  feet, 
  fully 
  

   4,000 
  feet 
  above 
  the 
  edge 
  of 
  the 
  timber- 
  

   line 
  below. 
  

  

  Never 
  have 
  I 
  felt 
  so 
  alone 
  in 
  the 
  midst 
  

   of 
  a 
  gorgeous 
  universe. 
  Snow-capped 
  

   mountains 
  formed 
  a 
  complete 
  circle 
  about 
  

   us. 
  Other 
  mountains 
  were 
  green 
  and 
  

   seemed 
  to 
  be 
  flat 
  on 
  top. 
  Evidently 
  a 
  

   lichen 
  growth 
  covered 
  these 
  mountain 
  

   meadows. 
  

  

  I 
  searched 
  intently 
  for 
  some 
  signs 
  of 
  

   caribou 
  and 
  moose 
  on 
  these 
  flat 
  mountain 
  

   tops 
  over 
  which 
  we 
  made 
  our 
  roaring 
  

   way, 
  but 
  not 
  a 
  living 
  thing 
  stirred. 
  Events 
  

   were 
  forming 
  ahead, 
  however, 
  which 
  

   might 
  prove 
  extremely 
  interesting. 
  A 
  

   wall 
  of 
  blackness, 
  streaked 
  with 
  occa- 
  

   sional 
  flashes 
  of 
  vivid 
  lightning, 
  loomed 
  

   ahead 
  of 
  us. 
  Amid 
  these 
  mountain 
  peaks, 
  

   even 
  in 
  the 
  short 
  period 
  of 
  our 
  living 
  over 
  

   them, 
  storms 
  seemed 
  to 
  gather 
  and 
  then 
  

   disappear 
  with 
  incredible 
  swiftness. 
  The 
  

   winds 
  changed 
  frequently, 
  now 
  with 
  us 
  

   and 
  now 
  against 
  us. 
  

  

  