RECREATION PEAK, NEAR STICKEEN RIVER, ALASKA. 

 So named in honor of this magazine, by Mr. A. J. Stone. 



A little creek empties into the river here, 

 where the party was encamped and the 

 place took the name of Telegraph Creek. 

 It was at Glenora that the thousands of 

 miners landed, in 1874, bound for the Cas- 

 siar district. It was from this place, by 

 way of Telegraph Creek, that the Canadian 

 government built a trail to Dease lake, for 

 their accommodation. In that year 2,000 

 men produced $1,000,000 in gold; and now 

 the old Cassiar district is all but forgotten. 



From Telegraph we traversed the coun- 

 try drained by the first South fork, reach- 

 ing the high table land, 65 miles to the 

 South, from which the Iskoot and the South 

 fork take their course; the Iskoot making 

 a graceful sweep to the West and then 

 Northwest into the Stickeen. The South 

 fork flows Northwest, into the Stickeen, 2 

 miles below Telegraph. 



The plant life of this high plateau, which 

 stretches away for many miles, in every di- 

 rection, consists chiefly of mosses, though a 

 few tiny willows are found in the low 

 swales, and a few small, stunted pines grow 

 in the canyons. 



From the rear of this table land, rises a 

 series of low mountain peaks or domes, 

 some of which are completely buried be- 

 neath everlasting fields of snow and ice. 

 Others are partially or completely exposed. 



We visited a number of the latter and 

 were surprised to find that in many cases 

 a distinctive individuality in geological 

 composition exists; one being composed 

 largely of obsidian, mingled with broken 

 masses of granite; another entirely of dark 



gray granite; another a perfectly rounded 

 dome of reddish felsite and yet another of 

 dark colored shales and slates, mixed with 

 lime stone. 



Scattered along the beds of shallow 

 ravines, that extend across the table land, 

 parallel to each other and draining the fields 

 of snow and ice, we found large quantities 

 of lava, many pieces of which were nearly 

 round and about the size of a man's head. 

 They were honey combed, or perforated, 

 and were so light as to float when thrown 

 in the water. 



We later passed some time on the Tahl- 

 tan river, among the Tahltan Indians, at a 

 point where they take their winter's supply 

 of salmon. Here they construct lodges by 

 means of small, leaning poles, for walls, and 

 spruce bark for a covering. 



The salmon are stripped and hung be- 

 neath the roof to dry, the natives sleeping 

 on the ground, in the corners, with the fire 

 in the centre for cooking. Near a number 

 of these drying houses was a long beach, the 

 rock and gravel of which were completely 

 saturated, for weeks, with the blood of the 

 slaughtered fish. 



The fish, when dried, is not carried to the 

 villages, but to the cache, or store house, of 

 the family. In the timber scattered over the 

 hills, in the country 2 to 5 miles from their 

 village and drying station, each family has 

 its cache where all surplus foods, blankets, 

 guns, ammunition, etc., are stored; and 

 here the stock of dried salmon is taken, 

 every fall, to be drawn upon as needed. 



They say that should the village burn 



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