we kept to the inland passage among the islands. At a
short distance away we viewed the great Treadwell gold mines on Douglass
Island, and peered out through a veil of mist and rain at Juneau under
the hills. Here we left a few of our best and most pleasant passengers,
and watched the old Indian women drive sharp bargains in curios, beaded
moccasins, bags, etc., with tourists who were impervious to the great
rain drops which are here always falling as easily from the clouds as
leaves from a maple tree in October.

Our landing at Skagway under the towering mountains upon beautiful Lynn
Canal was more uneventful than our experience in the Customs House at
that place, for we were about to cross the line into Canadian territory.
Here we presented an interesting and animated scene. Probably one
hundred and fifty persons crowded the small station and baggage room,
each one pushing his way as far as possible toward the officials, who
with muttered curses hustled the tags upon each box and trunk as it was
hastily unlocked and examined. Ropes and straps were flung about the
floor, bags thrown with bunches of keys promiscuously, while transfer
men perspiring from every pore tumbled great mountains of luggage hither
and thither.

[Illustration: CITY HALL AT SKAGWAY.]

Two ponderous Germans there were, who, in checked steamer caps enveloped
in cigar smoke of the best brand, protested vigorously at the opening of
their trunks by the officers, but their protests seemed only the more to
whet the appetites of these dignitaries. The big Germans had their
revenge, however. In the box of one of these men was found with other
things a lot of Limburger cheese, the pungent odor of which drove the
women screaming to the doors, and men protesting indignantly after them;
while those unable to reach the air prayed earnestly for a good stiff
breeze off Lynn Canal to revive them. The Germans laughed till tears ran
down their cheeks, and cheerfully paid the duty imposed.

Skagway was interesting chiefly from its historical associations as a
port where so many struggling men had landed, suffered and passed on
over that trail of hardship and blood two years before.

Our little narrow gauge coaches were crowded to their utmost, men
standing in aisles and on platforms, and sitting upon wood boxes and
hand luggage near the doors.

It was July, and the sight of fresh fruit in the hands of those lunching
in the next seat almost brought tears to my e