The brown Miocene sandstones before mentioned are succeeded here by blue sandstones, which at Nuláto lie below them. The latter contain few fossils, mostly sycamore leaves (Platanus), and other vegetable remains.

Monday, May 27th.- Starting about three o'clock in the morning, we soon passed the Russians, who had gone a little farther in the night and camped above us. We passed through a small slough or pratóka between some islands. About ten o'clock we arrived at a fine bluff near the mouth of the Koyúkuk River, a landmark in this part of the country, and known as the Koyúkuk Sópka. Here is a small Koyúkun village, where we stopped and took tea. I bought a large pike (Esox estor) and a quantity of dry reindeer meat.

After passing the Sópka the river is very winding, and we frequently crossed it in order to shorten the distance. When in doing so we came to the main channel, it was a hard tug to cross it, and we invariably lost ground, sometimes as much as a mile.

On rounding a turn in the river we saw a large number of canoes lying near the bank and a crowd of dark figures on the shore. These proved to be Koyúkuns, who proposed to accompany us. Iván the tyone, Larriówn, and a handsome fellow in a red shirt, named "Cousin" by Ketchum on his last season's trip, accosted us with gesticulations of welcome. As rain threatened, and we wished to keep our provisions dry, we camped in the best place we could find among the dense thickets of willows which line the shore everywhere. There were a few hills in the distance, but no mountains. The foliage was not fully out, but the delicate green of the young leaves made the river banks very beautiful. Close to the water grow willows and alders. A little farther back are belts of broad-leaved poplars (P. balsamifera), and on the dry ground spruce (Abies alba), growing to a very large size and mixed with aspens (Populus tremuloides), whose light-colored bark and silvered leaves contrast finely with the dark evergreens. On the rocky bluffs a species of juniper is abundant, crawling over the rocks, but not rising from the soil.

On the left bank, which is everywhere low, the willows and poplars appear to predominate. The banks in many places are undermined by the rapid current, and frequently fall into the

river in large masses, with the trees and shrubs upon them, startling the unaccustomed ear with a noise like thunder.

The ground where Ketchum camped the previous year, according to Kurilla, was under water; we had camped on a low island somewhat in advance of the Russians. The Koyúkuns brought their stores of dried meat and fat, and I purchased about fifty pounds of the former. The tariff of prices was high, compared with what we had paid for the same things on the coast. We gave five loads of powder for a duck, seven for a goose, if fat; five balls or a small bundle of leaves of Circassian tobacco, called by the Russians a papoósh, for a beaver-tail; six to eight balls for the dry breast of a deer; four or five for a deer's tongue; and for fat, especially the marrow of the long bones of the reindeer, whatever would buy it, usually a pretty high price. A ball, a charge of powder, or two caps, are the units of trade, and will buy almost anything. Knives, beads, flints and steels, needles, small looking-glasses, handkerchiefs of various colors, woollen scarfs, and cotton drill or calico are all useful, but tobacco and ammunition are the great staples. The Circassian or Cherkátsky tobacco, imported only by the Russians, and exceedingly strong, is the prime favorite where the Russians trade; but those who deal more with the English at Fort Yukon like the long natural Kentucky leaf best. The latter we used for our own smoking, obtaining an excellent article from the Russians for thirty cents a pound.

Swans, brant, and sandhill cranes were seen, the former abundantly. Iván Pávloff sent me two eggs of the white-cheeked goose (B. leucopareia), which were found on a bit of sandy beach near the camp, and every step added some new plant, insect, or bird to our collections. The Koyúkuk Sópka is composed of a soft crystalline rock apparently unstratified.

We

In this kind of journey, sluggards are out of place. allowed ourselves but four or five hours for sleep, and after a cup of tea continued on our way.

Tuesday, 28th.-Iván the tyone, and old Wolasátux came along in their little canoes with some half-dried fish for sale, which we purchased for our Indians. Passing through a narrow pratoka between two islands and the shore, we came to a solitary Indian house, quite empty. On the hillside near it stood a

solitary grave. A little fence of white spruce stakes was built around it, and from several long poles streamers of white cotton were floating. Kurilla said that it was the grave of an Indian who had died in the previous fall, and that the house was occupied by his wife, who spent all her time (except when procuring food) in watching the grave, and devoting all her property to the purpose of adorning it. The house looked neat and clean, the hillside was green, and the sun shone brightly on the lonely. grave, as we passed by on the other side of the pratoka. Just beyond, a perpendicular and solitary bluff fronted the river. Close to its face rushed the swift current, with its burden of driftwood, at the rate of seven knots an hour. There was no backing out: we had to cross here. The swift part of the current appeared to be narrow. The canoes first essayed it, and were swept like straws a mile down stream in the twinkling of an eye.

This made us careful. We kept close to the rock, where there was a little slack water, and then, driving our paddles into the water with a will, we passed the current, and reached the opposite bank, not more than a quarter of a mile below. Waiting to rest, we saw the Russians kill a beaver in the water, and then cross the stream with about the same success as ourselves. Continuing on our way, about six o'clock we stopped to boil the chynik and to rest. Iván Pávloff was invited to take tea with us. Sugar being a very scarce article in this country, it is usually boiled with water into hard cakes, which, when properly done, are not affected by the weather. Soft sugar will waste away imperceptibly with the dampness. The orthodox way is to take a fragment of this hard sugar, bite off a small piece of it, and drink your tea without putting any into it. This is much more economical, and is hereby recommended to boarding-house keepers. I was much amused by observing Pávloff, who after finishing his tea replaced the lump from which he had been biting in the common sugar-box.

About ten o'clock we came to a very wide part of the river, where the Russians lay to for a while, and fired a small boat-gun which they carried in their bidarrá. This was to notify the Indians, if any were in the vicinity, that the Russians were ready to trade; but none made their appearance, and the bidarrá soon continued on its way. On a low sand-bar, where the sun poured

down with double force, and mosquitoes hummed in myriads, we also found an old man and his old wife. I afterwards heard that he had a young one. His hair stood out in every direction where it was not matted down by dirt. His clothing hung in the filthiest rags, and his voice sounded like that of a fishhawk with a cold. His name was Ooskón, or Rabbit, and it was stated by Kurilla that he was noted for his good-humor and generosity. He might have given away all his clothes, which would account for his appearance. His wife was his duplicate, except that she was silent, which is an excellent thing in women. The old fellow brought me a gull's egg, which I gratefully accepted, wished to sell me some fish, which I respectfully declined, and finally brought out two stuffed skins of the beautiful northern phalarope, which I purchased, as they were in very fair condition. I afterwards discovered they were stuffed with a very sweet-scented grass. On pointing this out to Wolasátux, he shook his head gravely, and said, "They are rotten!" These Indians have no appreciation of sweet odors. The wild rose (Rosa cinnamomea), which is one of the few fragrant flowers to be found on the Yukon, is called among them by an untranslatable name, on account of its perfume. The only odor they appreciate lies hidden in the steam arising from the soup-kettle.

Rain coming on, we camped on a steep bank, and the Russians followed our example.

I afterwards added a green-winged teal and hooded grebe (Podiceps cornutus) to our collection. A high sandy bluff near our camp was full of the nests of the bank swallow. It seemed like a gigantic honeycomb swarming with bees, as the lightwinged swallows darted about. The eggs are white, and are laid on a few very fine twigs, which keep them off the sand. I counted nearly eight hundred holes, all of which seemed to be occupied. I obtained from the Indians quite a number of ducks and geese for our kettle.

Wednesday, 29th. We broke camp about five o'clock in the morning. Nothing occurred to break the monotony of constant steady paddling. Two Indians in the bow of the boat would row until tired, and then we would stop for a few minutes to rest, and let them smoke. The last operation takes less than a minute their pipes are so constructed as to hold but a very

small pinch of tobacco. The bowl, with ears for tying it to

A.

Sometimes it is made of

The stem is made of two

E

Kutchin.
B. Innuit.

PIPES.

C

C. - Koyúkun.

D, E. Chukchee.

the stem, is generally cast out of lead. soft stone, bone, or even hard wood. pieces of wood, hollowed on one side, and bound to the bowl and to each other by a narrow strip of deerskin. In smoking, the economical Indian generally cuts up a little birch wood, or the inner bark of the poplar, and mixes it with his tobacco. A few reindeer hairs, pulled from his parka, are rolled into a little ball, and placed in the bottom of the bowl to prevent the contents from being drawn into the stem. A pinch of tobacco, cut as fine as snuff, is inserted, and two or three whiffs are afforded by it. The smoke is inhaled into the lungs, producing a momentary stupefaction, and the operation is over. A fungus which grows on decayed birch trees, or tinder manufactured from the down of the poplar rubbed up with charcoal, is used with flint and steel for obtaining a light. Matches are highly valued, and readily purchased. The effect of the Circassian tobacco on the lungs is extremely bad, and among those tribes who use it many die from asthma and congestion of the lungs. This is principally due to the saltpetre with which it is impregnated. The Indian pipe is copied from the Eskimo, as the latter were the first to obtain and use tobacco. Many of the tribes call it by the Eskimo The Kutchin and Eastern Tinneh use one modelled after the clay pipes of the Hudson Bay Company, but they also carve very pretty ones out of birch knots and the root of the wild rosebush. The Chukchees use a pipe similar to those of the Eskimo, but with a much larger and shorter stem. This stem is hollow, and is filled with fine birch shavings. After smoking for some months these shavings, impregnated with the oil of tobacco, are taken out through an opening in the lower part of the stem, and smoked over. The Hudson Bay men make passable pipestems by taking a straight-grained piece of willow or spruce, without knots, and cutting through the outer layers of bark and wood. This stick is heated in the ashes, and by twisting the

name.