THROUGH WONDERLAND . 
63 
village of Bella-Bella, and which is also a Hudson Bay Company trading post. 
The Bella-Bellas were once a large tribe living in these parts ; but the little 
village, of about twenty Indian houses, that the tourist passes on his left, repre¬ 
sents the greater portion of the tribe at present, and gives one a practical and 
forcible illustration of the disappearance of “the noble red man.” A mission 
residence and a church, with the cattle on the cleared hills, give the place quite 
a civilized aspect. After Lama Passage comes Seaforth Channel, just as wind¬ 
ing and pretty ; the swingings to the right and left, in places where the passage 
is apparently right ahead, increase your respect for the pilot, and you wonder, 
in all these intricacies, like Goldsmith’s village schoolmaster, “ how one small 
head could carry all he knew.” At Milbank Sound we look out to sea for a 
brief half-hour, and then plunge into Finlayson Channel, a typical waterway of 
the inland passage, like a great river. The sides are very high mountains, 
densely timbered nearly to the top, where snow exists the year round, forming 
a base of supplies for the beautiful waterfalls that dash down the precipitous 
heights, like silvery columns, on a deep green background. It is said that all the 
little streams of this region swarm with salmon, giving the Indians a most boun¬ 
tiful supply. Then comes Graham Reach, about twenty miles long ; then Fraser 
Reach, of ten miles ; and McKay Reach, of seven,—that could all have been 
given a single name, and much trouble have been saved. A little, irregular sheet 
of water, called Wright Sound, and Grenville Channel, “ as straight as an 
arrow,” gives us nearly fifty miles of rectilinear sailing. 
We are now getting far enough north to make the sight of snow a familiar 
one, and the dense timber is striped with perpendicular windrows, where large 
avalanches have cut their way through them in the winter, when the snow falls 
heavily in these parts. Chatham Sound is the last channel we essay in British 
domain, and a royal old sheet of water it is, with a width of nearly ten miles, and 
about three or four times as long. After about three hours on its bosom a 
great channel is opened east and west before us, on which the swells from the 
broad Pacific enter. This is Dixon Entrance,, and the boundary between British 
Columbia and Alaska beyond, whose blue mountains we see in the distance. 
The islands still continue ; and the number, in this part of Alaska alone, has 
been estimated at eleven hundred, and this, too, excludes the rocks and islets. 
Clarence Strait is the main channel as soon as Alaskan waters are entered; but 
there are others on both sides of it which may be taken. It is a little over a 
hundred miles long, and somewhat variable in its width. It was named by Van¬ 
couver, nearly a hundred years ago, after the Duke of Clarence. From Clarence 
Strait we enter Stickeen Strait; for most of the steamers call at Wrangell, and 
this bends us off of our course. 
Wrangell is a tumble-down, dilapidated-looking town, in a most beautifully 
picturesque situation, and the first impression is to make one ashamed of the 
displays of the human race compared with those of nature. It is the port to 
the Cassiar mines ; or, better speaking, it was, for they have seen their palmiest 
days, a fact which is quite evident on looking at their dependency, the town of 
