CRUISING THE FJORDS OF NORTH PACIFIC 
g. 15 lbs. ‘ma beans. 
ro. 2 doz. tins (one pound) assorted jams 
11. 75 lbs. flour. 
12. 30 lbs. ham. 
13. 30 lbs. breakfast bacon. 
14. 10 lbs. cooking figs. 
o5.) s1Ds. Tice: 
16. 2 gal. syrup. 
17. 1 doz. tins (one pound) beef. 
18. 2 doz. cans tomatoes. 
19. 2% bu. potatoes. 
20. 1 gal. whisky (or rum). 
The last item—“fire-water’’—is neces- 
sary in the North whether the wanderers be 
Prohibitionists or Democrats—we are 
neither. “‘Water, water, everywhere, but 
not a drop to drink,” ceases to be a theory 
when you have felt the pangs of its awful 
reality. Salt water mocks a thirsty throat, 
but a drink of ‘‘No. 20” on our bill was 
occasionally ‘‘not too bad,”’ especially as a 
‘“night-cap”’ after a hard, rainy day. Then 
it was a medicinal necessity. 
We sacked our provisions in waterproof 
dunnage bags and awaited the sailing of 
the next northern steamer, having arranged 
that it specially call in and disembark us 
and dunnage at Fort Rupert, which is not 
a regular port of call for any of the several 
steamers cruising thus coastwise. 
It is only a several days’ steam to Fort 
Rupert from Vancouver, a distance of up- 
ward of three hundred miles... The steamer 
channel hugs the shores of Vancouver’s 
Island and the rank green growth of its 
sub-arctic forest is in magnificent harmony 
with the tallish peaks of the mountain 
range that overruns the island. Many 
small islands, mostly mountainous, too, and 
similarly growthed, reach off toward the 
mainland, where the high cones of the 
coast range glisten with perpetual snow and 
ice. A wonderful set of scenes on Nature’s 
stage, and yet our expectations for the 
cruise itself, when we should fairly rub 
against these wonders of the world, made 
the steamer trip seem commonplace to us. 
Our thoughts, our hopes, our minds were 
fixed for future glories to be more intimately 
disclosed. 
A motley passenger list and a cargo 
ranging from horses to hens in live stock, 
and from flour to figs in “grub-stakes,”’ 
loaded our boat well down. It was a fair- 
sized craft, most stoutly built and engined 

ANDREW S. IDDINGS 
On board the “ Josephine ”’ 
to meet the requirements of the Northern 
waters. Our several days aboard passed 
quickly, in rapt conversation with our in- 
teresting fellow passengers—miners, loggers 
and adventurers of all nationalities, some 
coming to the fresh fields of the North for 
the first time, others, hardy residents 
already, returning home from a holiday in 
civilization. An uncouth lot of men in 
action, word and garb, but strong of body, 
keen of eye and brutish in endurance. The 
foregoers in every new country must be 
such, else the cause of civilization will go 
unwon. The North needs none of the silk- 
stocking, kid-glove gentry that papa pro- 
hibits from home and pays for “ pioneering”’ 
by periodical letter—the ‘‘remittance-man”’ 
is their popular dubbing, the curse of any 
country where they hang their hats. There 
were a few of these callow youths on board, 
and it was amusing to hear the chimera- 
chasers talk of what the wilderness held for 
them—sure fortunes and no work; the 
rankest absurdity, for fortunes, though 
there, can only be won by the freest sweat 
