RECREATION. 

399 
AN UNEXPLORED ALASKAN RE- 
GION. 
E. K. HILL. 
In the exploitation of Alaska and its 
gold fields, it seems strange that the world 
has overlooked a section of that country 
destined, I think, to become a center of 
attraction to the gold hunter, and to the 
tourist. 
In the summer of ‘96, seeking a respite 
from the drudgery of teaching, I planned 
a vacation trip Northward from Seattle, 
Washington. In company with Professor 
Bailey and other teachers I found my way 
to the strawberry carpeted sand beaches of 
Yakutat bay. 
To stretch one’s self on the mossy 
mounds; to bask in the sunshine; to look 
up to the still, white summits of the lofty 
St. Elias range: that was sufficient relaxa- 
tion for a tired schoolmaster. 
But we were there for exploration as 
well as for rest. .With boats and camping 
outfit, we were soon venturing out on Dis- 
enchantment bay, which forces its sinuous 
length 40 miles into the heart of the loft- 
iest and grandest range in North America. 
No one can describe the impression pro- 
duced by that culmination of Arctic gran- 
deur and desolation. The spruce forests 
shrink back as if in horror at the life- 
destroying breath of stupendous glacial 
torrents which, with constant thunder, pour 
into the troubled waters of the bay. 
After camping along the beach, rowing 
amid the icebergs, exploring the dead gla- 
ciers and the accessible mountain slopes, 
for a few weeks, we determined to seek a 
passage Eastward to the Alsek river. 
Jack Dalton had come over from the White 
river and passed down the East branch of 
the Alsek to the coast, some years before; 
but neither white man nor native had ex- 
plored the West branch, arising North of 
Mt. St. Elias. After trying several im- 
passable dead glaciers, both with packs 
and with sled, and spending a month floun- 
dering in the snow among high peaks and 
ridges, we finally discovered a low pass. 
Through it we drew a large load over to 
the river in 4 days, and returned in 3. 
When snow is on the ice, from January to 
June, the passage is easy, even with a large 
load on your sled. There is no steep climb- 
ing and no narrow gorge. 
The river country abounds in game. I 
killed 2 bear the first day after reaching 
timber and saw tracks of many other fur 
and game animals. 
The West branch of the Alsek is a large 
stream, and will probably furnish an easy 
passage to its head waters. Thence it is 
but a short distance to the tributaries of 
the White, the Tanana and the Copper 
tivers. 
It would seem that the Northeast side of 
the St. Elias range should be a rich field 
for the prospector. I shall guide a party 
into that country in the early spring. 
AN OCULAR DEMONSTRATION. 
. M. WHITFIELD, __ 
“Yes,” said the old man with the glass 
eye, as he removed that vitreous substitute 
from its usual place and carefully polished 
it with a ragged handkerchief—“yes, its 
likely I’ve had more surprisin’ adventures | 
than any o’ you fellers.” The loungers in 
the village store winked at one another, 
and the old man continued:. 
“Once while I wuz a herdin’ sheep up in 
Judith Basin, I went out with my old 8-bore 
to see if I could get a shot at a coyote that 
had. been killin’ my lambs. As I turned 
a bend in a coulee on my way back to 
camp, thar sat an old black bear not Io 
yeards ahead of me. Soon’s my hair 
had laid sufficient, I backed off a few steps 
an’ blazed away. The b’ar stood a minute 
as if he’d forgot sunthin, then started off 
through the sage brush like he wuz goin’ 
to hunt fer it. 
“Meantime I rammed a load of powder 
into th’ old gun an’ wuz a-feelin’ fer my 
buck shot when Mr. B’ar come out o’ th’ | 
brush a-pintin’ right my way. I see he 
wuz somewhat riled, an’ not wishin’ to 
have no fuss with him I lit fer th’ nighest 
tree. Mr. B’ar made fer th’ same one. 
i managed to git up it fust, though none 
too soon, fer th’ b’ar wan’t move’n a len’th 
behind. I wound one leg around a limb 
an’ fired that load o’ powder right in his 
face. At that, he slid down th’ tree and 
went to pawin’ dirt an’ sneezin. I loaded 
with powder ag’in the best I could under 
th’ circumstances, but when I felt fer mv 
shot pouch, I found I’d lost it while 
makin’ fer th’ tree. 
~ “Well, th’ b’ar kep’ a gittin’ madder all 
th’ time an’ wuz comin’ up th’ tree again. 
Th’ hair wuz all burned off his head whar 
I’d shot th’ powder in his face an’ it made 
him look like one o’ them ’Gyptian mum- 
mies, but he want nigh so dead! 
I drawed my legs up as far as I could 
an’ wuz a-tryin’ to think of a prayer, when 
all to once this old glass eye o’ mine be- 
gun to twitch. Quicker’n it takes to tell 
it, I out with it, rammed it into th’ old 
gun an’ took a snap shot at th’ b’ar just 
as he wuz pullin’ off one o’ my boots. 
Down he went all in a heap an’ he Jaid 
so durn still I thought mebbe he wuz a- 
playin’ possum on me, an’ I sot right 
where I wuz fer some little time. Finally, 
I clim down out of th’ tree an’ took a 
circle around the b’ar, an’ I'll treat the 
house if I didn’t catch sight of the old 
glass eye just as it winked at me. It had 
gone through the b’ar and jest pricked 
through the skin on the other side. This 
is th’ same old eye, an’ a fine time I had 
rubbin the powder marks off'n it.” 
A woman may think her husband a fail- 
ure, but marriage; never. 
