9 8 



JOHN BURROUGHS 



in white plumage drifted about over the flowery meads. 



On a big 

 windrow of 

 boulders 

 along the 

 beach near 

 where we 

 landed were 

 swarms of 

 noisywater- 



birds, mainly little auks called 'choochkies' by the natives. 



LITTLE AUKS, OR ' CHOOCHKIES.' 



SIBERIA. 



According to our original program our outward jour- 

 ney should have ended at the Seal Islands, but Mrs. Har- 

 riman expressed a wish to see Siberia, and if all went 

 well, the midnight sun. " Very well," replied Mr. Harri- 

 man, " we will go to Siberia," and toward that barren 

 shore our prow was turned. It was about 8 o'clock in the 

 evening when we left St. Paul; a dense fog prevailed, 

 hiding the shore. We had not been an hour under way 

 when a horrible raking blow from some source made 

 the ship tremble from stem to stern; then another and an- 

 other, still more severe. The shock came from beneath: 

 our keel was upon the rocks. Many of the company 

 were at dinner; all sprang to their feet and looked the 

 surprise and alarm they did not speak. The engines were 

 quickly reversed, a sail was hoisted, and in a few moments 

 the ship's prow swung off to the right, and the danger 

 was passed — we were afloat again. The stern of the ship, 

 which was two feet deeper in the water than the bow, had 

 raked across the rocks. No damage was done, and we 

 had had a novel sensation, something analogous I fancy to 

 the feeling one has upon land during an earthquake. 



Some of us hoped this incident would cause Mr. Harri- 

 man to turn back. Bering Sea is a treacherous sea; it is 



