Outing . evenings. That is meant tobe funny. I shall sleep to-night exactlyas a moth may—flying toward a flame. But the gale searched me clean of wake-ful dreams—thank God! The Captainthought he was very funny at breakfast,as I jammed down a domino of ham andhalf a potato, by asking for a wireless mes-sage from the top. Ashore, Pete andOssip were ready. Pete wore a sort ofduck feather nightgown with the downturned in, and packed the blue-flame stoveand oil; Ossip the grub; I the tent pegsand blankets—about thirty pounds hit north up the beach, under sulphur-yellow cliffs. An eagle dyin


Outing . evenings. That is meant tobe funny. I shall sleep to-night exactlyas a moth may—flying toward a flame. But the gale searched me clean of wake-ful dreams—thank God! The Captainthought he was very funny at breakfast,as I jammed down a domino of ham andhalf a potato, by asking for a wireless mes-sage from the top. Ashore, Pete andOssip were ready. Pete wore a sort ofduck feather nightgown with the downturned in, and packed the blue-flame stoveand oil; Ossip the grub; I the tent pegsand blankets—about thirty pounds hit north up the beach, under sulphur-yellow cliffs. An eagle dying of old agestood breast deep on the reef, mouthingdefiance with raised wings at a swarm ofsycophant ravens. We struck a trail lead-ing to the long ridge behind the square sea-head opposite Aniuliak. The tundra wassprinkled with prickly sea-urchin shells,blown by gales or dropped by the foulbirds; anyhow, to fool geologists of comingaeons into thinking that in this year ofgrace Umnak was On the Chase for Volcanoes 665 Within, all these islands are virgin. Thesea-faring native, as have all white men,avoids the exhausting soft tundra as wewould shun the plague; he is lost there. Werested each hour and a half. The fog gar-mented us. The boys were leading too farwest, because the trail was easy and huggedthe Bering coast, likely ending in a drift-wood cache on shore. I switched themnortheast. Soon they seemed tired. Halt-ing, Ossip drew smoked salmon from hisflour sack bundle, and we ate in and down, up and down, fog-bound,foundering in moss where fragile yellowflowers grew for mockery, wading gorgesand icy streams, I led across those deceitfulhills by instinct, bravado, what you shield-shaped rock noted yesterdayloomed over us. At noon a gully led duenorth toward the wide glacier valley whichcut straight across the island. I jammedthe stove under a bank, but even so it tookan hour in that gale to boil our tea. Then the fog melted, suddenly, as i


Size: 1206px × 2071px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No

Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade, booksubjectsports, booksubjecttravel