over sixty-five millions of dollars in gold, and the
other ranks among the richest of the mineral producing veins of the
world.

Some may have an interest in the story of the quaint, quiet, beautiful
village on the shore of Baranof Island. I hope this may add something to
history, keeping the events of the past bright in the memory of those
who love the Northland and its story, and add a little of interest and
information of the present to those who come as transient visitors to
while away a few days among the myriad islands of the Sitkan
Archipelago. It is a link to connect the Sitka of the past, the _Novo
Arkangelsk_ of the great Russian American Company in the romantic
days of the fur trade when it was the center of the vast domain of
Russian America and gathered to its magazines the pelts of sea-otter and
fox, with the Sitka of today with its fisheries and mines. The old
landmarks are fast disappearing, scarce a year passes without some
monument passing away, and even their location will soon be forgotten
unless some record is made for those who do not know where they stood.

SITKA

THE HISTORIC OUTPOST OF THE
NORTHWEST

CHAPTER I

DISCOVERY

Sitka of the Russians, a century ago, was the center of trade and
civilization on the Northwest Coast of America, the chief factory of the
Russian American Company in the vast and little known land of the
Russian Possessions in America. The sails of ships from far off
Kronstadt on the Baltic brought Russian cargoes. The famous clipper
ships of New England made it a stopping place on their way to the China
seas. English traders and explorers visited it on their voyages, and in
it was centered the trade of a wide region. It was the chief factory of
the greatest rival in the fur trade of the world, with which the
Honourable, the Hudson's Bay Company, which then was the controlling
power in the English fur market, had to contend.

The story of Sitka goes back past the middle of the Eighteenth Century.
There are Russians, Spanish, English, French and Americans who have
woven each their own part of the web of the tale, and the scenes have
been as varied and strange as the people.

July 16, 1741, a Russian ship stood into a broad harbor on the Northwest
Coast of America. The commander, Captain Alexei Chirikof, had sailed
three thousand miles across the unknown Pacific from the shores of the
Okhotsk Sea. Civilized eyes had never before rested on these shores an