day we spent in Ward's Cove, land-locked, wooded to the water's edge,
and with forty-five fathoms of water of the richest sea-green hue. Here
lay the _Pinta_ and the _Paterson_, two characteristic representatives
of the United States Navy--as it was before the war--the former a
promoted tug-boat, equipped at an expense of $100,000, and now looking
top-heavy and unseaworthy, but just the thing for a _matinee_
performance of Pinafore, if that were not out of date.

This _Pinta_, terrible as a canal-boat, armed to the teeth, drew up
under our quarter to take in coal. You see the _Ancon_ combined business
with pleasure, and distributed coal in quantities to suit throughout the
Alaskan lagoon. Now, there is not much fun in coaling, even when a
craft as funny as the _Pinta_ is snuggling up under your quarter,
looking more like the Pinafore than ever, with her skylarking sailors,
midshipmite and all; so Captain Carroll secured a jaunty little
steam-launch, and away we went on a picnic in the forest primeval. The
launch was laden to the brim; three of our biggest boats were in tow; an
abundant collation, in charge of a corps of cabin-boys, gave assurance
of success in one line at least.

We explored. Old Vancouver did the same thing long ago, and no doubt
found these shores exactly as we find them to-day. We entered a shallow
creek at the top of the cove; landed on a dreary point redolent of stale
fish, and the beach literally alive and creeping with small worms above
half an inch in length. A solitary squaw was splitting salmon for
drying. She remained absorbed in her work while we gathered about and
regarded her with impudent curiosity. Overcome by the fetid air of the
place, we re-embarked and steamed gaily miles away over the sparkling
sea.

In an undiscovered country--so it seemed to us--we came to a smooth and
sandy strip of shore and landed there. But a few paces from the
lightly-breaking ripples was the forest--and such a forest! There were
huge trees, looking centuries old, swathed in blankets of moss, and the
moss gray with age. Impenetrable depths of shadow overhead, impenetrable
depths of litter under foot. Log had fallen upon log crosswise and at
every conceivable angle.

Out of the fruitful dust of these deposed monarchs of the forest sprang
a numerous progeny--lusty claimants, every one of them,--their foliage
feathery and of the most delicate green, being fed only by the thin
sunshine that sifts through th