104 The National Geographic Magazine 



men were founding towns and adopting 

 names for places, and among the names 

 which the California miners selected 

 are seven " Sebastopols," another illus- 

 tration of how geographical names re- 

 cord history. 



In Arizona and Colorado the trail of 

 the Spaniard is everywhere visible. 

 Twenty larger streams of the latter 

 state are "rios." In the former the 

 Spanish mesa, bntte, el, san, and santa 

 are constantly met with, yet of the 14 

 importaut mountain passes in Arizona 

 not one has a Spanish name. 



The desert lands of Nevada did not 

 tempt the cavalier or the priest to build 

 forts and missions. There was little to 

 attract them into its sandy wastes. 

 Less than a half dozen of the 40 impor- 

 tant mountains and peaks are named in 



the Spanish tongue, and not a county 

 in the state has a Spanish name. The 

 place names of Oregon and Washington 

 tell the checkered history of those states. 

 Capes Foulweather and Disappointment 

 speak of unhappy voyages. Astoria 

 recalls the fur trade that helped to found 

 the Astor fortune. The neighboring 

 towns of Harrisburg and Lebanon sug- 

 gest colonies of people from southeast- 

 ern Pennsylvania. Salem suggests 

 Massachusetts, and Albany speaks of 

 New York. In both Washington and 

 Oregon Indian names are rare. In Ore- 

 gon not a saint, san, or santa is attached 

 to a county or important natural feature. 



Thus does history unwittingly record 

 itself. Thus is a key which admits us 

 to a glimpse of past events found in the 

 place names of any region. 



A GROWING CAMP IN THE TANANA 

 GOLD FIELDS, ALASKA* 



By Sidney Paige, of the U. S. Geological Survey 



IT is impossible to know in how 

 many and how widely separated 

 localities the question, ' ' Going to 

 the Tanana ? " was asked and the reply, 

 ' 1 Yes, ' ' given during the past two years 

 in Alaska. From Skagway , in the south- 

 east, to Cape Prince of Wales, in the ex- 

 treme west, from Dawson, on the Yukon, 

 to St Michael, on the coast, the query 

 has been rife, and the " ayes have 

 seemed to have it " everywhere. 



A glance at a map of Alaska will re- 

 veal the nearly central position of the 

 lower Tanana Valley, just now the focus 

 of interest for so many hopeful souls. 

 A new camp is always an alluring 

 " proposition," but one that stands the 

 test of time becomes a veritable magnet 

 to that great mass of shifting and rov- 

 ing fortune-hunters, the Western placer- 



miners. The Tanana fields have stood 

 the test, and Fairbanks town, with all 

 the strength of its new life and impor- 

 tant position, means to rival Dawson, 

 across the line. 



Six miles to the south flows the Tanana 

 River, second in size only to the Yukon, 

 which it meets 150 miles to the west and 

 with which it forms the great highway 

 to and from the "diggins." 



During the summers of 1903 and 1901 

 great numbers used this easy but long 

 trail to Fairbanks. 



The White Pass and Yukon Railroad, 

 leaving Skagway on tide water, climbs 

 the mountains of the coastal range, and, 

 following the beautiful shores of Lake 

 Lindeman and Lake Bennett, brings the 

 traveler to Whitehorse, famous for its 

 rapids, which in the olden days brought 



* Published by permission of the Director of the U. S. Geological Survey. 



