the _Yucatan_, but
maybe she's the old _Portland_ coming in."

"If she's the _Portland_ my father might be aboard," said John. "If it's
the _Yucatan_, and Uncle Dick's coming, then we'll get my new rifle,
sure."

"One apiece, then," said Rob. "If each of us had a gun we could all go
hunting together."

"Pack-train just came across the divide yesterday," said Jesse, "and
they had four bear-skins. They got 'em less than thirty miles inland.
The fellow that killed them threw away two skins because they were so
heavy he didn't want to bother to pack 'em. But I don't suppose they'd
let us go bear-hunting yet," said Jesse, hesitatingly.

"The biggest bear in this whole country," began Rob, who was posted on
such matters, "are over toward Kadiak Island. I heard a trader from
Seldovia saying there were a few sea-otters over there, too."

"Wouldn't you like to go over to Kadiak--just once?" said John. "A big
bear-skin or two, and maybe a sea-otter--we could cash in our fur for
enough to buy a mining claim, like enough! My uncle Dick's due to go
over there, too, before long," he ruminated. "You know he's employed on
the government survey, and they're making soundings on that part of the
coast."

Rob drew a long breath. "Well, maybe _sometime_ we could get over
there," he said; and the others nodded, because they had come to look
on him as something of a leader in their out-door expeditions.

"Priddy soon dat fog shall lift," remarked Ole Petersen, an old sailor
who was lounging about the dock. He nodded toward the mouth of the
harbor, where now all could see the heavy veil of mist growing thinner.
Little by little, even as the steady boom of the steamer's whistle came
echoing in, the front of the fog-bank thinned and lifted, showing the
white-capped waves rolling beneath. Suddenly a strong shift of wind
descended from the canyon between two of the many mountain-peaks which
line the bay, and broke the fog into long ribbons of white vapor. The
sun shone through, and its warmth sent the white mist up in twisting
ropes, which faded away in the upper air. At last there came into view
the red-topped smoke-stacks and the gaunt, dark hull of the great ocean
steamer, whose funnels poured forth clouds of black smoke which drifted
toward the farther shore of the bay.

"_Yucatan!_" sang out Rob--and Ole Petersen calmly seconded him with a
nod--"_Yucatan!_"

The gathered population of Valdez--men, women, children, and
dogs--greete