The Project Gutenberg EBook of The National Geographic Magazine, Vol. II., No. 3, July, 1890, by Various This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Title: The National Geographic Magazine, Vol. II., No. 3, July, 1890 Author: Various Release Date: October 23, 2016 [EBook #53352] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC, JULY 1890 *** Produced by Ron Swanson CONTENTS. The Arctic Cruise of the U. S. S. Thetis in the Summer and Autumn of 1889: Lieut. Comdr. Chas. H. Stockton, U. S. N. (Illustrated with view of Herald Island, and one map.) The Law of Storms, considered with special reference to the North Atlantic: Everett Hayden, Marine Meteorologist, Navy Dept. (One View and seven Illustrations.) The Irrigation Problem in Montana: H. M. Wilson PRESS OF TUTTLE, MOREHOUSE & TAYLOR, NEW HAVEN, CONN. THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE. Vol. II. 1890. No. 3. THE ARCTIC CRUISE OF THE U. S. S. THETIS IN THE SUMMER AND AUTUMN OF 1889. BY CHARLES H. STOCKTON. A German writer of note once said, in the course of a discussion upon certain French characteristics, that "the trouble with the French people is,—they do not know Geography." Whether this is still true of the French, as a nation, or whether the authority may be considered a good one, it is not pertinent for me here to say; but I feel that of the nations of the world, this country, above all others (England, perhaps, alone excepted), should not have the want of knowledge of geography classed among its national failings. We have, however, very much geography yet to learn, as individuals and as a nation; not only of countries beyond our own but particularly of our own continent and our own domain, while commercial geography is almost an unknown and forbidden study. Professional geographer as I am, as member of the naval service, I find that every cruise adds to my geographic knowledge, and in giving an account of the cruise during last summer of the ship which I had the honor to command, I trust that I may be enabled to present some geographic facts as interesting to my fellow-members of the Geographic Society as they were novel and instructive to myself. Before beginning my narrative, however, let me give you an idea of the extent of the shore-line of the territory or semi- colonial province along which so much of our cruise was made. Alaska has an area of about 580,000 square miles, consisting of a large mainland with a coast-line 6,650 miles in length, and also of more than 1,100 islands, with a coast-line of 2,950 miles, the entire coast-line being 9,600 miles. The coast- line of the rest of the United States, including islands, is only 6,580 miles, thus making the coast-line of Alaska 3,020 miles more than the coast-line of all of the rest of the United States. Of this great country the part known best and visited annually by tourists is that insignificant portion of southeastern Alaska which consists of the Alexander archipelago and its neighboring main coast-line, differing in its scenery, topography, climate, and native inhabitants, from the greater part of this vast territory. It is fortunate, however, that this corner of Alaska is so easily and comfortably reached by the summer traveler, as, with the exception of the coast-line and inlets between Sitka and Kodiak, which includes the Fairweather ground and the St. Elias range of mountains, this portion contains perhaps the finest and most striking scenery and the largest and grandest glaciers in the territory, if not in all North and South America. The U. S. S. Thetis was assigned in 1889 to the duty of looking out for the commercial and whaling interests of the United States in Bering sea and the Arctic ocean, to which was subsequently added the duty of assisting in the establishment and erection of a house of refuge in the vicinity of Point Barrow, the most northerly point of our Arctic possessions. The duty assigned to the Thetis did not include the protection of the sealing interests of the United States, nor of those interests enjoyed by the Alaska Commercial Company as the regular lessees from the United States of the Pribyloff group of islands. This was confided to the Revenue Marine Service of the Treasury Department. THE NORRIS PETERS CO., PHOTO-LITHO., WASHINGTON, D. C. The Thetis left San Francisco on the 20th of April, 1889, and after a detention of a month at Tacoma, upon the placid waters of Puget sound, awaiting supplementary orders, reached Port Tongass, in extreme southeastern Alaska, on the 31st of May, and Sitka, the territorial capitol, upon the 2d of June. After a stay of six days at the latter place the vessel left for the island of Ounalaska, one of the Aleutian chain, which was safely reached, after a stormy passage, early on the morning of the 17th of June. The revenue-steamer Richard Rush, commanded by Captain Shepherd, was found at anchor at this place, having arrived a few hours before the Thetis; she had entered upon the duty of patrolling Bering sea, between Ounalaska and the Pribyloff group, for the protection of the sealing interests. The seals approach the hauling-out grounds and breeding places upon the islands of St. Paul and St. George in lanes, as it were, from the Pacific, reaching Bering sea by means of the various passages between the Aleutian islands, and converging as they approach the Seal islands, the position of which seems so well known to them. The "marauders," as the men on the sealing schooners are called who hunt them on their way north, shoot them from small boats, killing the many in order to procure the few. Ounalaska, or rather the village and harbor of Iliuliuk, upon the island of Ounalaska, is the principal and most frequented harbor in the Aleutian islands, and from its position is a most convenient port for coaling, watering and provisioning en route to the Seal islands, St. Michaels (at the mouth of the Yukon river), the anchorages in and near Bering strait, and the Arctic ocean. This harbor is the headquarters of all of the districts of the Alaska Commercial Company, and is the principal coaling and distributing station and rendezvous of their vessels in Alaska. The company here affords facilities in the way of buoyage, wharfage, etc., which are not only useful to their own vessels but of great service to government and other vessels whose duty or interests call them to these waters. The revenue steamer Bear was to be met by us at Ounalaska, in order that we could take from her any portion of the stores and material to be used in the constructing and provisioning of the house of refuge at Point Barrow that her commanding officer desired to transfer to us. While awaiting the arrival of the Bear, the Thetis was watered and coaled and prepared for the northerly trip before her. An opportunity offered me by the delay was availed of to inspect the store-houses of the Alaska Commercial Company at this point. The most interesting of the store-houses was that containing the skins and furs collected in the various parts of the district of which this place was the dépôt. The finest of the furs was that of the sea-otter, probably the most valuable fur in the world, a very superior skin of that animal having been sold at the great fur market in London for £170. Such otters are found in the vicinity of Ounalaska and the outlying rocks and islands as far east as Kodiak, and are becoming more and more difficult to obtain, causing greater risk and hardships every year to the Aleuts, who hunt these animals as a principal means of livelihood. Besides the otters the store-house held the furs of the beautiful silver-gray fox, and those of the blue, the cross, and the snowy white Arctic fox. There were also black and brown bear skins, beaver, and fur-seal, the latter, though the greatest and most profitable source of revenue to the Company, being by no manner of means among the more valuable of the raw furs. To exchange for furs collected, either directly by natives or by independent traders, the Alaska Commercial Company has a large assortment of stores, provisions, and goods, worthy of a large country-store, or a Macy's in miniature, which are sold to the natives for money or in exchange for the furs they bring to the company. And just here can be seen the commercial aspects of civilization: as the natives become used to the luxuries and comforts of a civilized and semi-civilized state of life, their wants and their purchases increase and the securing of one otter-skin will not, as in times past, satisfy their wants or the requirements of their wives and families. Hence they become both greater producers and consumers, more otters are hunted for, and the Company is the gainer. The houses in which the Aleuts and Creoles reside at Ounalaska were found to be well built of frame, sufficiently large and fairly clean. The old houses of earth and sod standing near by show the great improvement that has been made of late years in the method of living. Upon the 22d of June the Revenue Steamer Bear came in to the anchorage, and the Thetis and the Bear, once companion ships in the Greely Relief Expedition, met again in the far north. Upon conference with the commanding officer of the Bear, Captain M. A. Healy, it was found that he did not consider it desirable to break the bulk of his cargo and share the stores for the refuge-station with us; hence, being free to pursue our course, we left on the 24th of June for the island of St. Paul, one of the Seal (or Pribyloff) islands. We arrived at these islands on the evening of the 25th of June, after groping around in the heavy and almost constant fog and mist that envelop them. During our short stay at St. Paul we were able to see a drive of seals from a rookery and the killing, skinning, and packing, which followed; but what we found to be the most interesting was the visit to the rookeries, both from the inshore side and from boats along the sea front. The systematic partition of the grounds, the formation of the harems, the exclusion of the young males, and the aggressive conduct of the older ones, all proved most interesting and novel. This, however, has been described so often that I will not here repeat it. Leaving these islands, so unlike any others in the world, we proceeded to the north and west to St. Mathew Island, a large and uninhabited island in the middle of Bering sea. The object in visiting this island was twofold, the first being to ascertain if there were any shipwrecked persons upon the island, the other being to verify the statement made upon the chart we possessed that the island was infested with polar bears. Upon our arrival and landing upon the island we found plenty of old tracks but no recent evidences of the existence of polar bears. This was ascertained after honest and fatiguing endeavor to find them by parties of officers and men from the ship, who scoured the eastern part of the island, both upon the hills and upon the low tundra, but without success. St. Mathew island is probably the southern limit of the solid ice in winter in this part of Bering sea, the ice below it to the southward and toward the Aleutian chain being made up of newer ice and detached floes of well broken ice. It is surrounded by the ice during seven months of the year, and generally enveloped with fog during the remaining five months. Winds and rains sweep over it during the summer, the low land being composed of wet, grassy tundra, while the higher elevations are formed of scoriæ and volcanic rock. A large quantity of drift-wood found piled up upon the steep shingle beaches probably came down the Yukon river from the interior of Alaska, there being no growth of trees upon this desolate land. After leaving St. Mathew island we stood over to the Siberian side of Bering sea, in order to ascertain the whereabouts of the whaling fleet, and, if possible, to gather some news concerning the fate of the whaling bark "Little Ohio," a vessel that had been missing since the previous autumn. Plover bay, Cape Tchaplin and St. Lawrence bay, upon the Siberian side, were all visited in turn, but without success, and I then determined to pass through Bering strait and enter the Arctic ocean. This was done upon the 3d of July, after a heavy snow-storm in the morning, followed, later in the day, by a fog so dense that we passed through the straits without seeing land on either side, or the Diomede islands, in the middle. Entering the Arctic we pushed on toward Point Hope, to the northward of which the "Little Ohio" had last been seen. On the morning of the 4th of July the land about Point Hope was sighted and soon afterwards we met our first ice, coming out in floes from Kotzebue sound, stretching some distance from the shore and slowly moving to the northward and westward with the current. Skirting along this ice with the hope of getting around it to the northward of Point Hope, without success, we entered it, and after working through it for several miles with considerable difficulty we finally cleared it and came to anchor off the native village at Point Hope, finding there two whalers who had just preceded us, and obtaining the news that the bark "Little Ohio" had been wrecked directly opposite the point where we were then at anchor. Taking on board, the next day, those survivors of this shipwreck who still remained at this place, we left for St. Michaels, near the mouth of the Yukon river, there to transfer the survivors to the steamer of the Alaska Commercial Company, and to send the news of this sad disaster to the Navy Department and to the world. In passing through the ice outside of Point Hope the first polar bear of the season was sighted, posing upon a high floe of ice. A few shots settled his case and his body was fortunately secured, his skin now forming one of the trophies of the cruise. On our way back through Bering strait we found the vexatious combination (to be met with again and again in the cruise) of a heavy fog, much drift ice, and an opposing current. Reaching St. Michaels we found there two steamers of the Alaska Commercial Company at anchor, besides several river-steamers, and a summer rendezvous of natives from the coast, miners from the interior, and traders and missionaries from the Yukon,—all here to meet their annual mails and supplies. In addition there was a party of government surveyors to determine the boundary-line, an account of whose early journey has been given to the Society by Mr. Russell. There were seventy-three tents, by actual count, pitched about St. Michaels at the time of our stay, the abodes of these temporary residents. St. Michaels is the most northerly settlement and trading post of the Alaska Commercial Company. It is the outlet of the Yukon river trade and also the source of supplies for the country bordering upon the Yukon and its many tributaries, reaching in this way a portion of the Northwest Territory of the Dominion of Canada, west of the Rocky Mountains. In the winter-time the post consists of the offices and store-houses of the Alaska Commercial Company, with a few residences for their white employees, and a small native village. Small, light-draught, stern-wheel steamers ascend the Yukon and its tributaries for a distance of 1,700 miles, reaching the mouth of that river in part by an inside channel and in part by sixty miles of outside coasting. After a short stay at St. Michaels we proceeded to Port Clarence, where a large number of the whaling fleet were met, consisting of seven steam-whalers, six sailing whalers, one trading vessel, and a sailing tender. From the tender these vessels receive coal, provisions, and supplies, sending back to San Francisco the oil and whale-bone of the spring catch. Port Clarence is the best, as it is the last, harbor on the American side before reaching the Arctic, where no harbors exist worthy of the name, west of Herschel island. There is no native settlement of any size on the bay, but natives assemble here from the surrounding country and islands to trade with the whale-ships in summer. Leaving Port Clarence we ran to the southward by King island to St. Lawrence island, in search of a sailing tender that was long over-due; returning, after a short stay off the village near Cape Prince of Wales, we again entered the Arctic ocean. As it was too early to go to Point Barrow we proceeded to Kotzebue sound and Hotham inlet. In the vicinity of the latter place, every year, a summer rendezvous of natives occurs for trading purposes, the Eskimos from the Diomedes and Cape Prince of Wales bringing articles of trade from Siberia, while the Eskimos from Point Hope bring articles obtained from the whalers; these Eskimos are met by the inland natives from the rivers that flow into Hotham inlet and Kotzebue sound, principally from the Kowak, the Noatak and Salawik rivers. The nearest available anchorage we found was Cape Blossom, from which place we visited the rendezvous and were visited in turn by the natives. We had now been enjoying for some time twenty-fours hours of daylight, the midnight-sun having lighted our way to and from Point Hope during our first visit to that place. Leaving Cape Blossom upon the 24th of July we stood out of Kotzebue sound for the northward, running the greater part of the time in a heavy fog. We passed Point Hope on the 25th, Cape Lisburne on the 26th, and anchored off Cape Sabine early in the morning of the 27th of July. Near by was a very wide vein of lignite coal, from which the Thetis had been coaled the previous year and to which the name of "Thetis coal mine" had been given. This had been worked during the present summer, also, and a party of natives who were encamped near by had furnished coal to some of the whalers. Being now in the vicinity of a stream known to the natives as the Pitmegea, I went in a whaleboat to examine its mouth and entrance, as this stream was unknown to but few whites and did not exist upon any charts or maps. It was found to have but three feet of water on the bar at its entrance, but after crossing this a depth of six feet was found. The stream was found so full of bars and shoals that we could ascend but a short distance after entering it. The river and its narrow valley were very winding, the general course being northwest from its source to the coast. After the spring thaw, and the rains that follow, the stream rises to a depth sufficient for the natives to ascend and descend it with their light-draught skin-boats for a distance of about forty miles. Its length is estimated to be over one hundred miles. The river had been explored the previous year by John W. Kelly, who was this summer employed on board the Thetis as the official interpreter, and to him I am indebted for the following description of the ice-cliff existing upon the banks of the Pitmegea, and also of a peculiarly built stone hut near the source of one of the tributaries. ICE-CLIFF ON THE PITMEGEA. This ice-cliff is about twenty-five miles from the mouth of the Pitmegea, at a place where the hills run their spurs out to the banks of the river, closing the picturesque valley that stretches away to the sea-coast in an almost unbroken width of a mile. A glacier faces southward, and receives the full benefit of the sunlight during the short polar summer. Gales have deposited particles of soil and débris of plants, along with their seeds, upon the surface of the ice to a depth of from four inches to a foot. The snow-fall of winter soon vanishes before the June sun, while the light covering above the glacier preserves it intact. Vegetation is warmed into life in a remarkably short time, and the brown coat left by the receding snow is almost miraculously transformed to a robe of green and studded here and there with bright polar flowers, there being buttercups, dandelions, yellow poppy, bright astragals, gentians, daffodils and marguerites. The latter are small and unobtrusive, making a showing in a modest way as if they wished to apologize to their sister flowers for their appearance among them. Like beautiful orphan girls, one cannot resist a compassionate tenderness of feeling toward them. But these innocent little flowers, chaste as the ice field upon which they grow, bloom in the polar garden with as much right as the glacier's gentian. Besides flowers, there are the hardy grasses whose roots penetrate the light covering of soil to the ice-bed, whence they derive their nourishment. A few Arctic willows are to be seen, but they only grow about a foot in length, and trail upon the ground. The Pitmegea river is gradually cutting into the glacier, receding from its opposite bank and leaving a bed of gravel behind. During the summer the ice melts away, leaving the protruding soil above it like the eaves of a house; when it protrudes too far for the strength of the grass roots, it topples over into the river. At the freezing in September, icicles freeze from the overhanging sod to the river ice below, forming a narrow portico four miles in extent. OLD STONE HUT. On the highest peak at the source of Ikuk creek, a southerly tributary of the Pitmegea, are the ruins of a hut and smaller outhouse, the like of which has never been met with in Northwestern Alaska. Above the grass line, past perpetual beds of snow, up where wild storms sweep away ice, snow, and soil, where only a few gray lichens are to be seen, man, at some former time, has placed a habitation. On the crest of the mountain there is a ragged limestone comb twelve feet high, cracked and shattered into flakes by the vigor of the polar winters. On the south side of this comb, sheltered from the prevailing north winds, excavations have been made into the rock. Taking the comb of rock for one side of the house, the other side of the semicircle has been built up with flat stones, laid up like bricks in masonry, but without mortar. Moss and soil have been in all probability used here instead of mortar, but years of fierce winds have blown it out from the crevices. The structure is conic in shape, after the manner of a Greenlander's snow-hut. This one is about seven feet in diameter. Facing its entrance is a smaller house of similar construction, most likely used as a shelter for game. Winter storms have crumbled away the roofs of both so that they have fallen in, and the fragments of stones are partially covered with soil. The whole bears the impression of age, and no natives have been found who have ever heard of it. From the summit of this peak a splendid view is obtained of the surrounding country, the Arctic ocean, and herds of passing reindeer. Gold has been found near the Pitmegea, at the head of the same creek and tributary, it being contained in sulphurets of iron, which exist in large quantities in that vicinity, there being from $3.50 to $8.00 worth of gold in a ton; the country is all but impassable, however, and this, together with the shortness of the season, would prevent any mining with profit. Our party returned from the Pitmegea with a few ptarmigan and ducks, and upon our arrival the ship was at once gotten under way and we stood to the northward for Point Barrow. Drift-ice was constantly passed, but fortunately so scattered as not to form any obstruction to free navigation. On the next day we enjoyed a superb Arctic summer's day, and began to fall in with the whaling fleet on the way north to Point Barrow. Fifteen vessels were sighted and passed, most of them vessels under sail. Rounding the dangerous Blossom shoals and the Icy cape of Captain Cook, we stood to the northeast, finding generally clear water, with scattered drift-ice. Upon the floes we found great quantities of walrus, in some cases stretched at full length, sound asleep. One huge fellow remained so undisturbed at our approach that he was supposed to be dead, but a well aimed Irish potato aroused him so rudely that he quickly slid off the floe and disappeared beneath the water. Pushing on we passed Pt. Belcher at 9.30 in the evening, in the fog and rain, and came to heavy masses of ice over which a low fog had settled. With some delay and difficulty we worked out of both the fog and the ice and at five o'clock in the morning sighted four vessels—steamers—at anchor off the village of Ootkavie at Cape Smyth, 8 miles from Point Barrow, and the site of Captain Ray's Signal Service meteorologic station of some years ago, the house that sheltered the party being still standing. One of the steamers proved to be our old friend the "Bear," which had passed to the northward when we had returned southward from the Arctic with the survivors of the "Little Ohio." The other vessels were made out to be steam-whalers, and at seven o'clock we anchored near them, off the site determined upon for the house of refuge. Finding the Bear had commenced to discharge her stores and materials, all of our facilities were at once used in tending her assistance, our steam launch Achilles (now, as of yore, the child of the Thetis) being busily at work towing boats to and fro, while our men and mechanics, with officers, were busily engaged in aiding the construction of the house of refuge. Our arrival at Cape Smyth and vicinity of Point Barrow was on the 29th of July, the Bear having arrived on the 27th, the Saturday previous. While we were lying at anchor engaged in the erection of the house of refuge, the rest of the whaling fleet, both sail and steam, gradually arrived and came to anchor off the coast, reaching from Cape Smyth to Point Barrow. After a short stay the steamers went on to the eastward of Point Barrow, following along the ice-pack, which was in sight from Point Barrow, until they reached the heavier ice off Point Tangent. When the last of the whaling vessels had arrived, a fleet of forty-seven vessels carrying the American flag had assembled within sight of the most northerly point of the United States, composed of steamers, barks, brigantines and schooners. These vessels, manned by about twelve hundred men, I venture to say formed the largest assemblage of vessels and men under the American flag to be found anywhere during that year. I cannot speak too highly of the skill, seamanship, courage, and endurance of the whaling masters. They are a fine body of American seamen. The scene on shore was one of abnormal activity for this region, the erection of the house of refuge, the hasty landing and transportation of stores (in which the whalers assisted), the movements of the Eskimos about their village (which was dotted with the white summer tents of the residents and the visiting inland Eskimos), and the clustering and trading about the Whaling Company's station (Ray's old station), gave a life and movement which was as shortlived as the season. Fortunately the weather proved most favorable and the heavy ice kept off shore while the stores were landed; the wind then freshened, but communication could still be kept up and the work of erection went on. The site of the house of refuge is within a few hundred yards of Ray's old house and near the village, and its keeper, Captain Borden (an old New Bedford whaler) was busy in putting his house in order before the autumn should come on. During our stay at this place we were enabled to make a hydrographic survey of the anchorage, which demonstrated that the contour of the bottom is constantly changed by the ploughing and planing done by the heavy ice grounded and driven up by the pressure of the mighty ice-pack, under the influence of northerly winds and gales. And here let me say a word about the ice of this part of the Arctic ocean. The ice in summer consists of floes and fields of various sizes, which are cemented together in winter by the young or newly frozen ice. No icebergs exist in this part of the Arctic, as there are no glaciers near the sea coast to form them. The shore along the entire Arctic coast of Alaska shows evidence of former glacial action, but the only glaciers to be found are in the southeastern part of the territory. The Arctic pack, which never melts, consists of hard blue ice, made up of fields and floes of comparatively level ice, which are surrounded and interspersed with hummocks varying from ten to forty feet in height. These hummocks are formed by the broken and telescoped ice resulting from the collision and grinding together of heavy ice-floes, the hummocks being often rounded and smoothed in outline by heavy falls of snow. In the spring, under the influence of the prevailing southerly winds and northerly currents, the packs break off from the shore and move to the north, the position of the southern edge varying in latitude with the season and the winds. The shore-ice, which remains fast to the coast line after the pack moves off, gradually breaks up as the season advances, and, becoming scattered, is taken to the northeastward from the vicinity of Point Barrow and northwestward from the vicinity of Herald island and Wrangel land. Sometimes a long line of heavy floe-ice from the pack grounds in the shallow water near the shore during northerly winds, pressed from behind by the force and weight of the entire northern pack. It is gradually forced up, ploughing its way through the bottom, at the same time rising gradually along the ascent of the bottom toward the land. The effect of this solid wall of cold and relentless blue ice slowly rising and advancing upon those imprisoned between the ice and the shore is one of the most sublime and terrible things that can be experienced. The normal current running north through Bering strait forks a short distance to the north, one branch going through Kotzebue Sound and thence along the mainland by Cape Seppings, Point Hope, and Icy cape, to Point Barrow, at which point it goes off to the unknown northeast; the other branch, to the northwestward along the Siberian coast, and thence to the northward toward Herald island. The whalers burned by the Confederate vessel Shenandoah near Bering strait were found in the vicinity of Herald island. The only portion of the whalers at the time actively cruising had gone to the eastward of Point Barrow. On that day a seaman named Tuckfield returned from the Mackenzie in a whaleboat, and reported the ice conditions unusually favorable as far east as Mackenzie Bay, in the vicinity of which he had wintered. He was a seaman belonging to the whaling station and had been reported to me by a missionary I met at St. Michaels as having visited his station at Rampart house, upon the Porcupine river, a branch of the Yukon. Upon the 8th of August the house of refuge was virtually finished, and as my orders were to devote my time to the whaling fleet, after the completion of this structure, I concluded to cruise after and with the vessel to the eastward of Point Barrow, leaving the Bear to remain with the vessels lying at anchor off Cape Smyth and Point Barrow. As Tuckfield wanted to go east with his Eskimo guide, I took him and his whaleboat and whaling outfit on board, leaving Cape Smyth on the evening of the 8th. The ice in sight at the time was somewhat scattered, but plentiful, and entering it about nine o'clock we slowly stood on a course parallel to the land. We were occupied in working through this ice all night and all of the next day; it was not the pack ice but shore ice broken off from the vicinity of Point Tangent, Smyth bay, and Harrison bay. At times we found it so closely packed together by current and wind that we had to turn back and work our way closer inshore. Three vessels under sail were sighted during this time off Tangent point, and by this time we had also demonstrated the uselessness of Little Joe Tuckfield as an ice pilot or prophet. The winds were very light and we had now gotten out of the strong northeast current running off Point Barrow. On the night of the 9th we passed off the north of the Colville river, the water offshore becoming very muddy. The first important error found in the charts and maps of this region was found here by the observation of the non- existence of the Pelly mountains. This observation was confirmed upon our return by the concurrent testimony of the whaling masters who had cruised here, and the natives who hunt in the neighborhood. The mountains certainly do not exist where placed by the charts, and I judge that some small hummocks near the beach were mistaken for a far off range of mountains, when Dease and Simpson first explored this coast in 1837. Early on the morning of the 10th of August we sighted the first steam whaler, and as we steamed toward her we skirted along some long low islands parallel to the coast line and stretching from the Return reef of Sir John Franklin to the mouth of the Colville river. The islands, one being about three miles long, are not shown upon the charts, and not having any known names were designated as the Thetis islands. The steam-whaler was found to be the Balæna, commanded by Captain Everett Smith, one of the most intelligent of the whalemen of the Arctic. He was anchored off Return reef, which he was enabled definitely to locate by the traditions of the natives. It was at this point that Sir John Franklin, in one of his earliest boat journeys, was obliged to turn back while endeavoring to explore the coast from Mackenzie bay to Point Barrow. After a long interview with Captain Smith, from which I gathered much information as to the ice-conditions and the probable positions of the steam-whalers to the eastward, he returned on board of his ship, and the good ship Thetis once more turned her head to the eastward. Soon afterwards another steam-whaler was sighted, made fast by ice-anchors to an ice-floe; we did not stop, but, exchanging colors, proceeded on our way. The ice seemed to be getting thicker, and shortly afterwards a third whaler was sighted, at anchor off a small low island, with apparently heavy ice ahead. As the weather seemed uncertain I determined to anchor for the night in the vicinity of the island. The steamer was found to be the whaler Beluga, commanded by Captain Brooks, and the island, though nameless, was marked by a wooden cross, from which fact it was called Cross island. Captain Brooks stated that he had been struggling with the ice to the eastward of Cross island, the day before, in company with some other steam-whalers who had left him and gone to the eastward, so he had turned back and anchored off Cross island. I sounded out the vicinity of the island, finding shoal water to the southward, too shoal for the Thetis to anchor in, and so I remained upon the west side. The wind shifting, our position became insecure on account of the masses of ice drifting toward us; the whaler left the anchorage, stood out into the heavy ice, and made fast to a high hummocky floe. Seeing no good place near by, I held on with the chain on the steam windlass, ready to leave in a moment. Heavy ice coming down and grounding close by on both sides, we left and got out the ice-anchors to a heavy floe, where we rode out the gale until early in the morning, when we were obliged to move on, as the ice packed about our rudder. After moving again and again the wind fell away, the day cleared up, and the ice began to scatter and disappear about the island, the leads to the eastward looking more promising. The next day at 5 in the morning, in company with our whaling friend, we left the vicinity of Cross island and, entering the ice, stood toward the northeast. The ice-floes grew heavier and larger as we progressed and the canal-like leads more confused, until at 10 o'clock the lead stopped and we both made fast to a very large, long, hummocky floe, at least ten miles in length, several miles in breadth, and aground in 80 feet of water. The day was mild and clear, and, after both of the ice-anchors had been secured and the rope-ladders lowered over the bows, a number of the officers and men went on the ice, the men playing foot-ball and snow balling, while the officers posed for their photographs. This is the time that we were reported (by a steam-whaler that we had passed) as being in a position of extreme danger, and the news was taken to the outside world. About 4 o'clock in the afternoon we started ahead with the Beluga; the Thetis, now taking the lead, rammed her way through some pack-ice and reached another lead going inshore, the Beluga following very slowly after us. We continued forcing our way until we got into clear water by Lion reef. At midnight we made fast to a small floe and after an anxious night (caused by ice-floes setting against our stern and rudder) we proceeded, followed at along distance by the Beluga, which joined us in the afternoon at Camden Bay, and we anchored there for the night. We found that the Beluga in attempting to follow us had gotten on an ice-foot, or protruding spur, and bent her propeller-blades, and had finally to seek another lead out, to the westward of where we had rammed through. As we ran from off Lion reef to Camden bay we sighted the beautiful ranges of mountains close to the coast known as the Franklin and Romanzoff mountains, making an agreeable change in the topography of the shore, which had been low and monotonously flat since leaving Point Hope and the vicinity of Cape Lisburne. We found here that the shore-line was put upon the charts too far north, as our position near Flaxman island, on the west side of Camden bay, was well inland of the coast-line and reefs. Camden bay was the last wintering place of Collinson, in the Enterprise, upon his return from his search for Sir John Franklin, and here we fell in with the track of this distinguished navigator, whose cruise is so little known and whose efforts have been so much eclipsed by his fellow voyager, McClure, who has the distinction given him of being the actual discoverer of the Northwest passage, and who was, indeed, with his little body of men in 1850-1854, the first as well as the last to pass from the Pacific to the Atlantic, north of the American continent. Upon a long point named Collinson point, and upon the neighboring island known as Barter island, are to be found, during the summer, encampments and rendezvous of Eskimos, who meet there for purposes of trade, similar to the same rendezvous in Kotzebue sound. Here the Alaskan and the Mackenzie river Eskimos meet, also the Lucia or Prat river Indians, who are nomads and come from the vicinity of the Porcupine and Prat rivers, and whose winter rendezvous and habitation is at the Rampart house, a Hudson Bay Company's station and Church of England mission, upon the Porcupine. They are mostly professing Christians and are related to the Athabascans, or Rock mountain Indians, in family. There are no permanent settlements here or elsewhere between the vicinity of Herschel island and Point Barrow. The country is sterile, affording but little upon which to live, the sea also having little or no animal life in its waters. The Eskimos give to this part of the Arctic ocean a native name which signifies the sea where there is always ice. Early the next morning, August 14th, at 5 o'clock, we pushed on in company with the Beluga, standing out of Camden bay and delaying a short time off Barter island, to communicate with the natives. At noon, while off Manning point, the smoke of several steamers was seen to the eastward, and when they had come up we found all but two of the steam- whalers that had gone east. They were led by the steamer William Lewis, commanded by Captain Albert Sherman, probably the boldest and most active of the Arctic whalers. They were all in the cabin of the Thetis in a short time, and I found that they had reached Mackenzie bay and the vicinity of the Mackenzie river. The two missing ones, the Orca and Thrasher, had last been seen in the vicinity of Herschel island. The ice-conditions were reported to be better than those we had passed through. After reflection I considered it my duty, as it was my desire, to go on to the eastward to ascertain the cause of the detention of the two missing whalers, and as time was precious I determined to run on, day and night. By this time night had assumed the conditions of twilight, and the stars had begun to appear in the skies. The threatening appearance of the weather detained us at first, but at 9 o'clock in the evening we got under way, and with her colors hoisted the good ship started again on her easterly course, followed in about half an hour by our old friend and companion, the Beluga. Before leaving we had hoisted out the whale-boat with Joe and native friends, who had been joined at this point by the women of the family. Joe was uncertain about his movements here, and as he expected to secure stores from some of the whalers I left him in their company. We found the shore bolder as we progressed, and the mountains nearer the coast; as a result, the ice generally sets directly and in heavy masses on the shore without grounding, and this point has never been passed before by the whalers, but fortunately a wide lane was open. The sight of the mountains, standing in their silent and gloomy grandeur, was peculiarly impressive, and our inability to make a closer examination and exploration is to be regretted. So far as I can ascertain, no white man has ever penetrated these mountainous regions, which are known upon the maps in turn under the varying names of the Romanzoff, British, Buckland and Richardson mountains, being so named by Sir John Franklin during his boat journey along the coast. The British mountains are at the extreme northeastern corner of our territory of Alaska, reaching also across the boundary-line into British America. We passed Demarcation point, where our boundary-line reaches the Arctic ocean, early upon the morning of the 15th of August, and commenced again our cruising in British waters. The character of the shore remained the same, the mountains, however, showing little traces of snow, testifying in this way both to the extreme mildness of the winter and our approach to the valley of the Mackenzie. A few Eskimo huts were seen as we came up to the shoal ground developed by our lead in the vicinity of the mouth of the Malcolm river. The lead was constantly going while we were in these waters, and the ship was steered by it as much as by our compass. In fact the three L's (latitude, lead, lookout) are the great necessities for navigation in these unknown regions, as the three R's are supposed to be in elementary schooling. At 11 o'clock in the morning Herschel island was sighted, this large island forming the western boundary of Mackenzie bay, or, as the ancient explorers often termed it, Mackenzie sea. At 1.30 in the afternoon we anchored off the southwest end of the island inside some grounded ice and off a long gravelly spit, thickly covered with heavy drift-wood from the Mackenzie river. The island is about 500 feet in height and has a rounded outline, sloping gradually down from the center upon all sides. It shows the appearance of former glacial action, and appears to be an ancient moraine covered with a black vegetable mould. The vegetation was confined to grasses and small Arctic flowers, diminutive in size, delicate in color, and evidently shortlived. Soon after we anchored a party was sent on shore to erect a sign to mark our visit; it consisted of a board with the name of the ship and the date of the visit in brass letters; under the staff supporting it there are placed in a glass bottle the names of the officers and men of the ship. The Beluga joined us soon after our arrival, and when the party from shore had returned we got under way to continue our look for the two whalers. Captain Brooks came on board the Thetis and shared my perch and lookout in the foretop, while his ship followed, in charge of his mate. As we reached the bluffs at the north end of the island we saw a noble expanse of open water stretching to the northward as far as the eye could reach. The ice was still heavy to the westward and northwestward, but to the north, beyond the light, scattering ice through which we were going, was clear sea, the waves leaping in the beautiful Arctic sunshine. We looked with eagerness to the sea which stretched, apparently, to the north pole, and then headed to the southward into Mackenzie bay. After three hours' steaming from our first anchorage we reached the southeast side of the island and found the two missing whalers lying quietly at anchor, Captain Brooks giving a hearty and relieved cry of Sail ho!, when the vessels were seen, and we were all pleased to see them safe and secure. We came to anchor close by them and the two captains were soon on board. They reported that they had remained behind to watch for the return of whales from the northeastward, but so far without any success. They had determined to remain until September, and contemplated the possibility of wintering at this place. Soon after we anchored, Eskimos who lived at the mouth of the Mackenzie came on board, and they looked at the ship with the greatest surprise and interest. They had not seen vessels before this summer, though the traditions concerning the "Enterprise" and "Investigator," under Collinson and McClure, still survived. Sleeping soundly that night, for the first time in many days, the following morning boat parties were dispatched to complete the circumnavigation of the island and to make running surveys in the vicinity. A small, snug harbor was found and surveyed near-by our anchorage, capable of receiving vessels of less than 16 feet draught; this was named Pauline cove. It would prove a fairly good place for one of the light-draught steamers going up this year to use as winter-quarters. The waters between Herschel island and the mainland were found after examination too full of shoals and sand- and gravel-bars to form a ship-channel. A rise and fall of tide of three feet was found, and the ship swung regularly to an ebb and flood. While the boats were out sounding I went ashore and, climbing nearly to the top of the island, had a beautiful view of the clear and open water of Mackenzie bay, to the east and northeast; while to the southeastward were the islands clustering about the shallow mouth of the Mackenzie, and directly to the south were the British and Buckland mountains, merging gradually into the Rocky mountains and the great chains which form the backbone of the American continent. The temperature of the water and air was found higher upon this side of the island, and I have no doubt but that the climate of the vicinity of Mackenzie bay is materially modified by the comparatively warm water coming out in great volume from the Mackenzie river. The strong current running to the northward from the river would naturally sweep the ice out of the bay and to the northward, as far as the vicinity of Banksland and the extreme northern Arctic. Where it goes to and where it ceases is now a matter of conjecture. It is to be hoped that the drift-floats which were launched by us from this point, and from various points between here and Herald island, may contribute something to the solution of this question. As the chances of being shut in by the ice were easily among the possibilities to the whalers who were in our company, and with whose fate our companion the Beluga had joined for the time, the whole question of supplies and retreat was gone over with the whaling masters. A retreat up the valley of the Mackenzie, the Porcupine, and Yukon, seemed feasible, as reindeer were to be found in this vicinity in the winter months. As the masters of the whalers would not return with me to the eastward, I determined to start back, in order to make my westerly cruise with the sailing fleet. Recalling the boats, we got underway, standing first to the northeast to put over our first drift-float clear of the tidal influence of the waters immediately about Herschel island, and in the open water and northerly current of the Mackenzie. These floats were made of wood about two feet long and nine inches thick, with the name of the ship, the date, and the words, for drift, cut upon the face. In a cavity at one end of the float, plugged with soft wood, there was placed a copper cylinder containing a letter requesting the finder to inform the U. S. Hydrographic office at Washington, the nearest U. S. Consul, or the commanding officer of the Thetis, the time and place where the float was found. After launching the float upon its unknown journey, a lookout was sent to the highest masthead: from there it was reported that to the northward and northeastward there was nothing in sight but open water, neither ice nor ice-blink was visible, and the western entrance to the Northwest passage stretched before us invitingly, as clear and as free as the waters of our own Chesapeake bay. But I had reached my limit, and turning back, to the regret of many on board, faced once more the icy sea that lay before us toward Point Barrow and the westward. The weather, however, was superb, clear, cold, and sunny, during the day, while in the now darkening shades of the evening for the first time the moon appeared, silvering most beautifully the chain of mountains along the coast and the fantastic shapes of the grounded ice. On the 17th we began to meet and overtake the whalers, who still delayed in the vi...