sons, largely motorists, have visited it yearly of late.
There are hot springs at Drakesbad, just within the southern border,
which have local popularity as baths. The trout-fishing in lake and
stream is excellent, and shooting is encouraged in the extensive
national forest which surrounds the park, but not in the park itself,
which is sanctuary. In spite of the hunting, deer are still found.

The greatest pleasure, however, will be found in exploring the
volcanoes, from whose summits views are obtainable of many miles of this
tumbled and splendidly forested part of California and of the dry plains
of the Great Basin on its east.

THE KATMAI NATIONAL MONUMENT

We turn from the dying flutter of California's last remaining active
volcano to the excessive violence of a volcano in the extremely active
Alaskan coast range. The Mount Katmai National Monument will have few
visitors because it is inaccessible by anything less than an
exploring-party. We know it principally from the reports of four
expeditions by the National Geographic Society. Informed by these
reports, President Wilson created it a national monument in 1918.

A remarkable volcanic belt begins in southern Alaska at the head of Cook
Inlet, and follows the coast in a broad southwesterly curve fifteen
hundred miles long through the Alaskan Peninsula to the end of the
Aleutian Islands, nearly enclosing Behring Sea. It is very ancient. Its
mainland segment contains a dozen peaks, which are classed as active or
latent, and its island segment many other volcanoes. St. Augustine's
eruption in 1883 was one of extreme violence. Kugak was active in 1889.
Veniaminof's eruption in 1892 ranked with St. Augustine's. Redoubt
erupted in 1902, and Katmai, with excessive violence, in June, 1912. The
entire belt is alive with volcanic excitement. Pavlof, at the
peninsula's end, has been steaming for years, and several others are
under expectant scientific observation. Katmai may be outdone at any
time.

Katmai is a peak of 6,970 feet altitude, on treacherous Shelikof Strait,
opposite Kodiak Island. It rises from an inhospitable shore far from
steamer routes or other recognized lines of travel. Until it announced
itself with a roar which was heard at Juneau, seven hundred and fifty
miles away, its very existence was probably unknown except to a few
prospectors, fishermen, geographers, and geologists. Earthquakes
followed the blast, then followed night of smoke and dust. Dar