THROUGH WONDERLAND. 
93 
much farther to the south from Fuca Strait into the mainland, hemmed in by 
snowy peaks, so Lynn Canal, “the Puget Sound of the North,” continues the 
Sound of the Holy Cross far to the northward, embayed by glaciers, icebergs, 
and fields of snow. 
Recently, a trip out of Cross Sound, and northwestward about two hundred 
miles along the Pacific coast, has been occasionally added to the scenes of the 
inland passage, the new views presented being the Mount St. Elias Alps, directly 
facing the Pacific, for the distance noted, and containing within those limits the 
greatest number of high and imposing peaks to be found in any range in the 
world. The inland passage (by the use of Peril Straits to Sitka) became so per¬ 
fect a river-like journey, absolutely free from sea-sickness, that no one felt like 
breaking this delightful trip by a sea journey, in any of its parts, however 
tempting the display might be. A trip or two, however, soon convinced the 
company that the mildness of the sea during the excursion season would war¬ 
rant them in taking it as a part of the journey ; and since, as I have said, it is 
taken occasionally, I think a short description of it would be appropriate here. 
Should the hotel in Glacier Bay, or near vicinity, be completed soon, it would 
be a good stopping-point for those who are sure to feel sea-sick with the least 
motion of the waves ; while, to all others, the chances for good weather on the 
Fairweather Grounds, as they are not inappropriately termed, are very good, 
and, conjoined with the grand mountain scenery, should not be missed. 
Rounding Cape Spencer (Punta de Villaluenga of old Spanish charts), the 
northern point of the Pacific entrance to Cross Sound, the journey out to sea is 
commenced ; a view about ten to fifteen miles off shore being the best, or on 
what is known to the fishermen who here used to pursue the right whale, “ the 
Fairweather Grounds,” being so named, it is said, from Fairweather peak being 
in sight of most of it ; and this, again, was named by the indomitable Cook, in 
1778, as a monument to the fair weather he had cruising in sight of the grand 
old chain, a name which most tourists may congratulate themselves is well 
bestowed. 
Almost as soon as Cape Spencer is doubled, the southern spurs of the Mount 
St. Elias Alps burst into view, Crillon and Fairweather being prominent, and 
the latter easily recognized from our acquaintance with it from the waters of 
Glacier Bay. A trip of an hour or two takes us along a comparatively uninter¬ 
esting coast, as viewed from “ square off our starboard beam ; ” but all this time 
the mind is fixed by the grand Alpine views we have ahead of us, that are slowly 
developing in plainer outline here and there as we speed toward them. Soon we 
are abreast of Icy Point : while, just beyond it, comes down a glacier to the ocean 
that gives about three miles of solid sea-wall of ice, while its source is lost in the 
heights covering the bases of the snowy peaks just behind. The high peak t~ 
the right, as we steam by the glacier front, is Mount La Perouse, named for one of 
the most daring of France’s long list of explorers, and who lost his life in the 
interest of geographical science. His eyes rested on this range of Alpine peaks 
in 1786, just a century ago. Its highest point reaches well above 10,000 feet, 
