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<h2 align="center"><i>Part I</i></h2>
<h2 align="center"><i>The Trip of 1879</i></h2>
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<h2 align="center"><i>Travels in Alaska</i></h2>
<h2 align="center">Chapter I</h2>
<h2 align="center">Puget Sound and British Columbia</h2>
<p>After eleven years of study and exploration in the Sierra Nevada of
California and the mountain-ranges of the Great Basin, studying in
particular their glaciers, forests, and wild life, above all their
ancient glaciers and the influence they exerted in sculpturing the
rocks over which they passed with tremendous pressure, making new
landscapes, scenery, and beauty which so mysteriously influence every
human being, and to some extent all life, I was anxious to gain some
knowledge of the regions to the northward, about Puget Sound and
Alaska. With this grand object in view I left San Francisco in May,
1879, on the steamer Dakota, without any definite plan, as with the
exception of a few of the Oregon peaks and their forests all the wild
north was new to me.</p>
<p>To the mountaineer a sea voyage is a grand, inspiring, restful
change. For forests and plains with their flowers and fruits we have
new scenery, new life of every sort; water hills and dales in eternal
visible motion for rock waves, types of permanence.</p>
<p>It was curious to note how suddenly the eager countenances of the
passengers were darkened as soon <!-- Page 4 --> as the good ship
passed through the Golden Gate and began to heave on the waves of the
open ocean. The crowded deck was speedily deserted on account of
seasickness. It seemed strange that nearly every one afflicted should
be more or less ashamed.</p>
<p>Next morning a strong wind was blowing, and the sea was gray and
white, with long breaking waves, across which the Dakota was racing
half-buried in spray. Very few of the passengers were on deck to enjoy
the wild scenery. Every wave seemed to be making enthusiastic, eager
haste to the shore, with long, irised tresses streaming from its tops,
some of its outer fringes borne away in scud to refresh the wind, all
the rolling, pitching, flying water exulting in the beauty of rainbow
light. Gulls and albatrosses, strong, glad life in the midst of the
stormy beauty, skimmed the waves against the wind, seemingly without
effort, oftentimes flying nearly a mile without a single wing-beat,
gracefully swaying from side to side and tracing the curves of the
briny water hills with the finest precision, now and then just grazing
the highest.</p>
<p>And yonder, glistening amid the irised spray, is still more
striking revelation of warm life in the so-called howling waste,--a
half-dozen whales, their broad backs like glaciated bosses of granite
heaving aloft in near view, spouting lustily, drawing a long breath,
and plunging down home in colossal health and comfort. A merry school
of porpoises, a square mile of them, suddenly appear, tossing
themselves into the air in abounding strength and hilarity, adding
<!-- Page 5 --> foam to the waves and making all the wilderness
wilder. One cannot but feel sympathy with and be proud of these brave
neighbors, fellow citizens in the commonwealth of the world, making a
living like the rest of us. Our good ship also seemed like a thing of
life, its great iron heart beating on through calm and storm, a truly
noble spectacle. But think of the hearts of these whales, beating warm
against the sea, day and night, through dark and light, on and on for
centuries; how the red blood must rush and gurgle in and out,
bucketfuls, barrelfuls at a beat!</p>
<p>The cloud colors of one of the four sunsets enjoyed on the voyage
were remarkably pure and rich in tone. There was a well-defined range
of cumuli a few degrees above the horizon, and a massive, dark-gray
rain-cloud above it, from which depended long, bent fringes
overlapping the lower cumuli and partially veiling them; and from time
to time sunbeams poured through narrow openings and painted the
exposed bosses and fringes in ripe yellow tones, which, with the
reflections on the water, made magnificent pictures. The scenery of
the ocean, however sublime in vast expanse, seems far less beautiful
to us dry-shod animals than that of the land seen only in
comparatively small patches; but when we contemplate the whole globe
as one great dewdrop, striped and dotted with continents and islands,
flying through space with other stars all singing and shining together
as one, the whole universe appears as an infinite storm of beauty.</p>
<p>The California coast-hills and cliffs look bare and <!-- Page 6 -->
uninviting as seen from the ship, the magnificent forests keeping well
back out of sight beyond the reach of the sea winds; those of Oregon
and Washington are in some places clad with conifers nearly down to
the shore; even the little detached islets, so marked a feature to the
northward, are mostly tree-crowned. Up through the Straits of Juan de
Fuca the forests, sheltered from the ocean gales and favored with
abundant rains, flourish in marvelous luxuriance on the
glacier-sculptured mountains of the Olympic Range.</p>
<p>We arrived in Esquimault Harbor, three miles from Victoria, on the
evening of the fourth day, and drove to the town through a magnificent
forest of Douglas spruce,--with an undergrowth in open spots of oak,
madrone, hazel, dogwood, alder, spiræa, willow, and wild
rose,--and around many an upswelling <i>moutonné</i> rock,
freshly glaciated and furred with yellow mosses and lichens.</p>
<p>Victoria, the capital of British Columbia, was in 1879 a small
old-fashioned English town on the south end of Vancouver Island. It
was said to contain about six thousand inhabitants. The government
buildings and some of the business blocks were noticeable, but the
attention of the traveler was more worthily attracted to the neat
cottage homes found here, embowered in the freshest and floweriest
climbing roses and honeysuckles conceivable. Californians may well be
proud of their home roses loading sunny verandas, climbing to the tops
of the roofs and falling over the gables in white and red cascades.
But here, with <!-- Page 7 --> so much bland fog and dew and gentle
laving rain, a still finer development of some of the commonest garden
plants is reached. English honeysuckle seems to have found here a most
congenial home. Still more beautiful were the wild roses, blooming in
wonderful luxuriance along the woodland paths, with corollas two and
three inches wide. This rose and three species of spiræa fairly
filled the air with fragrance after showers; and how brightly then did
the red dogwood berries shine amid the green leaves beneath trees two
hundred and fifty feet high.</p>
<p>Strange to say, all of this exuberant forest and flower vegetation
was growing upon fresh moraine material scarcely at all moved or in
any way modified by post-glacial agents. In the town gardens and
orchards, peaches and apples fell upon glacier-polished rocks, and the
streets were graded in moraine gravel; and I observed scratched and
grooved rock bosses as unweathered and telling as those of the High
Sierra of California eight thousand feet or more above sea-level. The
Victoria Harbor is plainly glacial in origin, eroded from the solid;
and the rock islets that rise here and there in it are unchanged to
any appreciable extent by all the waves that have broken over them
since first they came to light toward the close of the glacial period.
The shores also of the harbor are strikingly grooved and scratched and
in every way as glacial in all their characteristics as those of
new-born glacial lakes. That the domain of the sea is being slowly
extended over the land by incessant wave-action is well known; but in
this <!-- Page 8 --> freshly glaciated region the shores have been so
short a time exposed to wave-action that they are scarcely at all
wasted. The extension of the sea affected by its own action in
post-glacial times is probably less than the millionth part of that
affected by glacial action during the last glacier period. The
direction of the flow of the ice-sheet to which all the main features
of this wonderful region are due was in general southward.</p>
<p>From this quiet little English town I made many short
excursions--up the coast to Nanaimo, to Burrard Inlet, now the
terminus of the Canadian Pacific Railroad, to Puget Sound, up Fraser
River to New Westminster and Yale at the head of navigation, charmed
everywhere with the wild, new-born scenery. The most interesting of
these and the most difficult to leave was the Puget Sound region,
famous the world over for the wonderful forests of gigantic trees
about its shores. It is an arm and many-fingered hand of the sea,
reaching southward from the Straits of Juan de Fuca about a hundred
miles into the heart of one of the noblest coniferous forests on the
face of the globe. All its scenery is wonderful--broad river-like
reaches sweeping in beautiful curves around bays and capes and jutting
promontories, opening here and there into smooth, blue, lake-like
expanses dotted with islands and feathered with tall, spiry
evergreens, their beauty doubled on the bright mirror-water.</p>
<p>Sailing from Victoria, the Olympic Mountains are seen right ahead,
rising in bold relief against the sky, <!-- Page 9 --> with jagged
crests and peaks from six to eight thousand feet high,--small residual
glaciers and ragged snow-fields beneath them in wide amphitheatres
opening down through the forest-filled valleys. These valleys mark the
courses of the Olympic glaciers at the period of their greatest
extension, when they poured their tribute into that portion of the
great northern ice-sheet that overswept Vancouver Island and filled
the strait between it and the mainland.</p>
<p>On the way up to Olympia, then a hopeful little town situated at
the end of one of the longest fingers of the Sound, one is often
reminded of Lake Tahoe, the scenery of the widest expanses is so
lake-like in the clearness and stillness of the water and the
luxuriance of the surrounding forests. Doubling cape after cape,
passing uncounted islands, new combinations break on the view in
endless variety, sufficient to satisfy the lover of wild beauty
through a whole life. When the clouds come down, blotting out
everything, one feels as if at sea; again lifting a little, some islet
may be seen standing alone with the tops of its trees dipping out of
sight in gray misty fringes; then the ranks of spruce and cedar
bounding the water's edge come to view; and when at length the whole
sky is clear the colossal cone of Mt. Rainier may be seen in spotless
white, looking down over the dark woods from a distance of fifty or
sixty miles, but so high and massive and so sharply outlined, it seems
to be just back of a strip of woods only a few miles wide.</p>
<p>Mt. Rainier, or Tahoma (the Indian name), is the noblest of the
volcanic cones extending from Lassen <!-- Page 10 --> Butte and Mt.
Shasta along the Cascade Range to Mt. Baker. One of the most telling
views of it hereabouts is obtained near Tacoma. From a bluff back of
the town it was revealed in all its glory, laden with glaciers and
snow down to the forested foothills around its finely curved base. Up
to this time (1879) it had been ascended but once. From observations
made on the summit with a single aneroid barometer, it was estimated
to be about 14,500 feet high. Mt. Baker, to the northward, is about
10,700 feet high, a noble mountain. So also are Mt. Adams, Mt. St.
Helens, and Mt. Hood. The latter, overlooking the town of Portland, is
perhaps the best known. Rainier, about the same height as Shasta,
surpasses them all in massive icy grandeur,--the most majestic
solitary mountain I had ever yet beheld. How eagerly I gazed and
longed to climb it and study its history only the mountaineer may
know, but I was compelled to turn away and bide my time.</p>
<p>The species forming the bulk of the woods here is the Douglas
spruce (<i>Pseudotsuga douglasii</i>), one of the greatest of the
western giants. A specimen that I measured near Olympia was about
three hundred feet in height and twelve feet in diameter four feet
above the ground. It is a widely distributed tree, extending northward
through British Columbia, southward through Oregon and California, and
eastward to the Rocky Mountains. The timber is used for shipbuilding,
spars, piles, and the framework of houses, bridges, etc. In the
California lumber markets it is known as “Oregon pine.” In
Utah, where it is common <!-- Page 11 --> on the Wahsatch Mountains,
it is called “red pine.” In California, on the western
slope of the Sierra Nevada, it forms, in company with the yellow pine,
sugar pine, and incense cedar, a pretty well-defined belt at a height
of from three to six thousand feet above the sea; but it is only in
Oregon and Washington, especially in this Puget Sound region, that it
reaches its very grandest development,--tall, straight, and strong,
growing down close to tidewater.</p>
<p>All the towns of the Sound had a hopeful, thrifty aspect. Port
Townsend, picturesquely located on a grassy bluff, was the port of
clearance for vessels sailing to foreign parts. Seattle was famed for
its coal-mines, and claimed to be the coming town of the North Pacific
Coast. So also did its rival, Tacoma, which had been selected as the
terminus of the much-talked-of Northern Pacific Railway. Several
coal-veins of astonishing thickness were discovered the winter before
on the Carbon River, to the east of Tacoma, one of them said to be no
less than twenty-one feet, another twenty feet, another fourteen, with
many smaller ones, the aggregate thickness of all the veins being
upwards of a hundred feet. Large deposits of magnetic iron ore and
brown hematite, together with limestone, had been discovered in
advantageous proximity to the coal, making a bright outlook for the
Sound region in general in connection with its railroad hopes, its
unrivaled timber resources, and its far-reaching geographical
relations.</p>
<p>After spending a few weeks in the Puget Sound with <!-- Page 12 --> a
friend from San Francisco, we engaged passage on the little mail
steamer California, at Portland, Oregon, for Alaska. The sail down the
broad lower reaches of the Columbia and across its foamy bar, around
Cape Flattery, and up the Juan de Fuca Strait, was delightful; and
after calling again at Victoria and Port Townsend we got fairly off
for icy Alaska.</p>
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