54 
Many stops were made at points along 
the way, perhaps the most important 
being Juneau, the capital of Alaska. 
Here we met Governor Riggs, who issued 
our hunting licenses. He appeared to be 
much interested in our trip and discussed 
the status of game laws at great length. 
A photograph in the Governor’s office 
gave us ample proof of the element of 
danger in hunting bears. It showed a 
native Indian boy whose flesh was horri- 
bly torn and chewed by a wounded bear. 
This, together with many other authen- 
tic instances of bold attack, made me 
realize why a certain insurance company 
refused me an accident policy. 
On April 30th we landed at Cordova, 
a lively little town of about 500 inhab- 
itants which looked much more prosper- 
ous than many of the coast towns at 
which we had stopped. Here we left the 
steamer and met Dr. Chase, a physician 
of the settlement and the fifth member 
of our hunting party. We then com- 
pleted arrangements for the charter of a 
power-boat which was to carry us to the 
end of the Alaska Peninsula. This lit- 
tle vessel, the "Rolfe,” lay tied up to the 
wharf, and with keen interest we in- 
spected her hull and equipment. Captain 
Rolfe showed us her staunch construc- 
tion and powerful engine. Although only 
65 feet in length and 12-foot beam, the 
boat was equipped with a semi-Deisel 
crude-oil engine capable of making 10 
knots an hour. In navigating a rough 
and dangerous coast she proved her sea- 
worthiness, and Captain Rolfe’s manifest 
ability as a pilot made us feel quite 
secure. 
O N May 1st we 
sailed from Cor- 
dova at 8 A. M., and 
after the usual pre- 
liminary snap-shots, 
started upon our 
seven 7 hundred-mile 
journey along the 
coast. The day was 
fine, with a calm 
blue sea and a gentle 
northwest breeze. 
On both sides of us 
were snow-clad 
mountains that 
sloped gradually 
down to the sea. 
From a few nearby 
hills the snow had 
melted and the green 
spruce forests made 
a fine contrast with 
the glittering ice-in- 
crusted peaks above. 
Timber dense and 
heavy extended 
along the shore line 
and ended in irregu- 
lar points which 
marked the limit of 
trees. Hinchenbrook 
Island was passed 
and soon faded into the distance, and 
later we skirted Montague. Then, at 7 
P. M., we sailed through a narrow pas- 
sage and entered the open sea on a gen- 
tle, rolling swell. 
We had been running well, although 
the sea was choppy, when suddenly the 
FOREST AND STREAM 
engine coughed and stopped dead. A 
feed pump was found to be broken, and 
we were forced to change our course and 
limped, disabled, to the town of Seward, 
on the Kenai Peninsula. 
The “Rolfe” lay alongside the dock at 
Seward for almost two days while re- 
pairs on the engine were made by me- 
chanics from the government machine 
shops. A more rugged-looking country 
can hardly be imagined, and many are 
the hunting stories told about its great 
game fields. Permits, however, for col- 
lecting museum specimens in this sec- 
tion are not granted, so we were impa- 
tient to reach our objective, six hundred 
miles farther westward. 
On May 4th we left Seward at 1 P. M., 
and later passed the Seal Rocks off the 
coast of the Kenai Peninsula. A herd of 
seals lay hauled up on a rock far off- 
shore, and as the high waves dashed over 
them their bodies glistened in the slaivt- 
ing days of the sun. While gazing at 
this picturesque scene we passed out into 
the Pacific. All hands were in bed early, 
but as the sea was running high there 
was no sleep. 
Next morning at daybreak the Barren 
Islands came into view, and later we 
passed along the rugged shores of Ko- 
diak Island. This was surely a formid- 
able-looking coast ; not a sign of human 
habitation appeared in a hundred miles. 
As the day wore on, we sighted Katmai, 
the large volcano on the mainland across 
the straits from Kodiak, in the country 
known as the Land of Ten Thousand 
Smokes. In 1912 the entire top blew off 
this mountain and ashes were scattered 
for hundreds of miles in every direction. 
The little town of Kodiak, eighty miles 
away, was buried six feet deep in ashes; 
the inhabitants had to grope their way 
to the beach in utter darkness, and there 
a revenue cutter took them to safety. As 
February, 1922j ^ 
we passed along the shore, the ashes ' 
were still visible on the higher moun-j 
tains. ' ! 
A FTER two days and nights of stormy! 
seas and driving gales, during which | 
our little boat pitched and dived to an' 
alarming degree, we arrived at Unga, a 
place unrivalled for bad weather. Rec-i 
ords show that rain and fog or snow pre- 
vail about 272 days of the year and sun-' 
shine is rare indeed. On the hunt we 
had but three fair days in twenty-eight. 
The town of Unga consists of about fifty 
frame houses and a population of ap- 
proximately two hundred souls ; the peo- 
ple earning their livelihood by cod-fish- 
ing and working in the salmon canneries, i 
It was here we met our guides, Peter 
Larsen, Nick Creevden and Albert Os-! 
terback. After they came aboard we' 
proceeded to Pirate Cove and from! 
thence to Broad Cape, where we arrived' 
early in the morning of May 9th. 
Great was the excitement here when ! 
one of our packers gave the alarm that ' 
several bears were in sight on a hillside 
two miles away. We turned our glasses; 
on them and, discovered four bears, a fe- !, 
male and three half-grown cubs, in al 
deep canyon that was half filled with | 
snow. Heading the boat toward thCj 
cliffs, we anchored and went ashore,! 
then loaded our rifles and ascended the ; 
bluffs. It was agreed that Sykes should 
have the first shot, and he made good use ' 
of the opportunity. After crawling up ' 
the hill to the edge of the ravine, we had i 
a fine view of the stalk. The bear and 
her c^bs were loaf- 
ing on a snow patch 
about 30 yards off. 
The female was , 
lying down, and 
never moved from 
this position after 
being shot. The cubs 
made off, trying in 
vain to escape. 
Sykes proved him- 
self an expert shot; 
but that is his story. 
After we had 
skinned the bears 
we packed the pelts j 
and bones down to 
the beach. On the 
way I saw a bald 
eagle sitting on a 
crag 175 yards dis- 
tant. I took aim and 
let go. The eagle 
pitched off the cliff 
and fell to the beach. 
He was a fine speci- 
men, measuring 
seven feet wing 
spread. The next day 
we anchored in Pav- 1 
lof Bay, named for 
the famous volcano 
which rises near the 
shore. Occasional * 
puffs of black smoke indicated that one 
only of its twin peaks is still active. As 
I gazed upon them they looked cold and 
forbidding, and no one, I have been told, 
has yet reached their summits. 
We loaded our outfit aboard the smaller 
skiffs, went ashore and pitched our five 
The ‘'Rolfe” outward bound for the bear country 
