522 
FOREST AND STREAM 
Oct. 25, 1913. 
ficer is necessarily enormous, thus in European 
Russia the forestries average 285,000 acres; in 
the Causasus, 155,000 acres, and in Asiatic Rus¬ 
sia, 4,156,000 acres. The technical staff does not 
exceed 3,000 in all. 
The railway transport of timber costs propor¬ 
tionately more in Russia than in adjoining coun¬ 
tries; the tariff is, however, more favorable for 
transport to sea water, no doubt with the object 
of encouraging export, which has to compete 
with American in the British market. The ex¬ 
port of timber from Petersburg has been facili¬ 
tated recently by considerable improvements in 
the harbor, and similar enterprise is being shown 
elsewhere, thus in the port of Archangel exten¬ 
sive dredging has been carried out in order to 
enable vessels to take full cargoes from the 
wharf, instead of their having to go into deep 
water and then complete loading from lighters. 
Several other harbor improvements to facili¬ 
tate timber export are in progress or contem¬ 
plated. 
During the six years ending in 1910 the exports 
of Russian timber averaged 5,804,000 tons, of the 
value of $55,584,000. For 1910 the exports were 
6,700,000 tons, slightly below the total for 1909, 
but the value rose to $69,600,000, an increase of 
$6,240,000 over the total for 1909. The main ex¬ 
ports were $29,280,000 to Great Britain, and $19,- 
200,000 to Germany. Ten years ago there were 
1430 saw-mills in Russia, employing 74,000 work¬ 
men ; since then the increase has been 500, and 
the number of men now engaged is 100,000. 
A Drive Over the Great St. Bernard 
O F the thousands of Americans who each 
year visit Switzerland, probably only a 
few take pains to drive over the grand 
mountain passes. Since the Alps have been tun¬ 
neled, railroads and tourist agencies have a way 
of sending travelers under the mountains instead 
of over them, and this practice seems to suit the 
preseht day custom of rushing hither and thither. 
By the mere tarrying of a day or two the tourist 
has at his disposal some of the most magnificent 
By PALMER H. LANGDON 
At first we met the villagers going to and 
from church, then as the road led alongside an 
electric trolley line, we would see the Swiss 
people who were bent on a Sunday outing. As 
the road leaves out of sight, and leaving trolley 
lines and other familiar appliances of civilization, 
the scenery begins to take on Alpine aspect. 
Magnificent vistas of snow peaks unfolded 
themselves as the carriage slowly zig-zagged its 
way over a pass that was built by engineers who 
of eating lunch and of hearing the landlord re¬ 
late some Napoleonic lore, for the Great St. 
Bernard still revels in the fact that the “Little 
Corsican’’ rode over the pass at the head of 
his army. A house is shown where Napoleon 
stayed over night, the room in which he slept, 
the table on which he breakfasted, and the chair 
in which he sat. Coupled with the other scenes 
and relics along the route of the mighty French 
commander, anyone can stretch their imagina- 
SNOWY PEAKS ALONGSIDE THE PASS. THE DOGS OF THE HOSPICE. 
mountain drives of the world—drives that will 
linger in the memory for a life time. 
It has been my privilege to journey over 
three of the Swiss Alpine passes—the Simplon, 
the St. Gothard, the Great St. Bernard, and one 
in the Austrian Tyrol, the Dalomites; and I 
would consider the trip to Europe worth the 
while just to drive over any one of them. 
Of the passes named, the Great St. Bernard 
is the most famous, scenically and historically. 
There are two passes named after Saint Bernard 
—the “Little,” starting from St. Pierre near Cha- 
mounix, and the “Great,” beginning at Martigny. 
Both end at Aosta. It was on the last day of 
June, 1912, with the aid of the porter at the 
Hotel du 3 t. Bernard I secured a good span of 
Swiss horses, an easy victoria and a driver for the 
sum of a hundred francs ($20), and at 8 o’clock 
in the morning of this beautiful summer day we 
were off for the Great St. Bernard. 
knew how to get over the barriers of the Alps 
by easy stages. So gradual are the grades, and 
so substantial the work, that we pause in the 
passing to admire the skill of engineers of a 
hundred years ago. Probably no better example 
of mountain road work can be found anywhere. 
The road building skill of a century ago has de¬ 
scended to the modern Swiss engineer in a form 
of genius that is capable of railroading over 
and under the Alps, which gives pleasure to 
multitudes from all lands, but the early engineers 
gave us the passes that are linked to the grand¬ 
eur of Alpine travel and the romance of the 
past. 
From the fascinating mountain vistas the 
scenery would vary now and then by the drives 
through the villages, in some of which the whole 
population seemed to be marshaled in the town 
square for religious or political ceremony. At 
one of these ancient villages we had the pleasure 
tion a bit to hear the tramp, tramp, tramp of 
Bonaparte’s battalions. 
Toward the end of the day, as the road led 
up among the snow and the bare rocky slopes 
seemed impassable with no inlet or outlet, it 
was most fascinating to watch how the road 
builders had devised a way in and out of the 
seemingly impassable and managed to get over 
the snow peaks at a height of 7,000 feet. And 
we knew by the quaky feeling of our knees as we 
would get out and walk, and the general appear¬ 
ance of the mountains that we were approaching 
the summit. At 5 o’clock we pulled up at the 
entrance of St. Bernard Hospice, situated in a 
hollow at the top of the mountain, and opens its 
doors to all travelers without charge, but every¬ 
one can repay this hospitality by remembering 
the offertory box. 
A night spent at the Hospice is like living 
for twelve hours in the middle ages. Every- 
