account of Capt. C. W. Raymond, United States Army (see Alaska, its Population, Industries, and Resources, pp. 89–90):

Fort Yukon is situated in latitude 66° 33' 47" and longitude 145° 17' 47", at a point where the Yukon receives the waters of the Rat or Porcupine River, a large tributary emptying on the right bank and flowing from its headwaters in a general direction a little south of west. From Fort Yukon to the mouth of the Chetaut River, a distance of about 200 miles, the river has a general direction about west-southwest, the country on both sides of the stream being low and level, usually consisting of sand or gravel. The average width of that portion of the river is about three-quarters of a mile, but in some places, measured across its numerous islands, it widens out to 5 or 6 miles. The current through all its passages is extremely rapid, and in many places the deepest channel does not carry more than 3 feet of water. Vegetation on the banks and islands is principally small willow and poplar, with occasional groves of spruce and birch.

From the mouth of the Chetaut River, however, the Yukon rapidly changes its character; the islands disappear, the banks rise into hills, and the stream gradually narrows into one channel, deep and rapid, until it finally rushes with great velocity through the Rampart range of hills. The bluffs composing this range rise abruptly from the water's edge, and are composed principally of a hard, greenish rock, though slate is occasionally observed, and at the principal rapids a ledge of granite crosses the river. Most of the hills are covered with groves of spruce and birch, but the trees are all small, and in many places they lie for some distance scattered in every direction, showing the small depth to which their roots descend in the frozen ground and the great force of the prevailing winds. From the Chetaut River to the Rampart rapids, a distance of some 60 miles, the Yukon flows in a direction nearly northwest, and averages about two-thirds of a mile in width, which decreases at the rapids to about 150 yards. The tributaries emptying into this section are also chiefly from the north and small in volume. The first native village met after descending from Fort Yukon is situated just below the rapids. From here to Nulato, a distance of some 240 miles, the river has a general direction about west by south. There are, however, many bends, although they are less sudden and numerous than in other portions of the river. After leaving the Rampart range the river widens again and diminishes in velocity. The right bank is generally hilly and abrupt, and on the left, though the shore is generally low or flat, the hills and bluffs occasionally approach the water's edge. The average width of the channel is about three-quarters of a mile, but occasionally groups of low islands cause a widening of the river. About 50 miles below the Nuklukaiet station, a

range of mountains appears on the right bank. This is a succession of welldefined peaks and ridges, describing a beautiful curve of many miles, with its concavity toward the river and its flanks resting upon the water's edge. All this bank is well timbered with spruce, poplar, and birch.

The principal northern tributaries of the river are the Koyakuk, the Porcupine, the Melozikat, and the Tozikakat. The Koyakuk was ascended by Lieutenant Allen for 532 miles from its mouth. He says that at that point, although there had been several large. tributaries, the volume of water in the river had not apparently diminished. He estimates that the Koyakuk drains 55,000 square miles.

The Tanana empties into the Yukon on the south “about 30 miles below the Ramparts and near the great trading ground called Nuklukaiet, where the Indians are accustomed to congregate in the spring and meet the white traders." From the place where Lieutenant Allen reached the Tanana on his trip from the Copper River to the junction of the Tanana with the Yukon was 546 miles. The river, says Lieutenant Allen, drains 45,000 square miles. Owing to its violent rapids, it is dangerous to navigation. Continuing the description of the Yukon, Mr. Petroff says:

f

From Nulato, situated some 50 miles south of the mission, to Andreafski the distance is about 350 miles, and the river has the following approximate directions: From Nulato to Anvik, south-southwest; from Anvik to the upper entrance of Shageluk Slough, south-southeast; from the upper entrance of the slough to the great bend, southwest; from the great bend to Andreafski, west by south. It is difficult to convey an idea of this portion of the river, as its numerous windings, its hundreds of islands, its bars and shoals, ever changing and shifting, baffle the traveler in his search for a navigable channel. Generally speaking, the right bank is high, exhibiting many bluffs of sand and rock much eroded by the ice torrents of the spring. The ice sometimes undermines the high banks to a distance of 20 or 30 feet, and the trees standing on the projecting tops of the banks are loosened by the action of frost and water and precipitated into the stream beneath, and thus the river goes on widening and shoaling, and floating immense quantities of driftwood down to the sea. Sometimes the right bank rises into high hills, but the left bank is generally low and level; here and there, however, a few isolated hills are seen standing back a

mile or two from the water, and for nearly the whole distance a range of distant mountains parallel to the left shore is visible. In these mountains, lie the upper branches of the great river Kuskokwim.

Sandstone and slate continue throughout this portion of the Yukon Valley. . ... There are few tributaries of importance in this section of the river, but there are many small streams. The Takaiak joins the river some 50 miles below Nulato, and the Anvik about 110 miles lower down. The latter has steep banks and swift waters. About 130 miles below Nulato the Yukon separates into two branches, the main stream pursuing a southerly course, and the lesser branch, running at first a little south of east, makes finally a great bend to the south and west and enters the main river again about 60 miles below the point of separation. This lesser branch is called Chageluk Slough, and into it, a few miles from its entrance, empties the Chageluk or Innoko River. A little below Andreievsky the Yukon bends abruptly to the north and runs about northwest to the sea. The three principal outlets of the great river are the Aphoon or upper, the Kwikpak or middle, and the Kusilvak or lower mouth. The Aphoon outlet is about 40 miles in length and has an average width of perhaps one-third of a mile.

During the brief summer, adds Mr. Petroff, the whole population flocks to the river, attracted by the myriads of salmon. The banks are lined with summer villages and camps of fishermen, who build their basket traps far out into the eddies and bends of the stream and lay up their store of dried fish, or "yukala,” for the long arctic winter. The traveler on the river during this busy season would form an entirely erroneous idea of the density of the population. The surrounding country is drained. Were he to make a brief excursion into the almost impenetrable forests and over the hills and mountains, he would quickly perceive that along the river alone exist the conditions necessary to sustain life throughout the year. The small rivulets of the interior and the vast swampy plains covered with snow for seven or eight months. of the year are only visited by the trapper and hunter when the skins of the marten, mink, and muskrat are in their prime. Where the mountains are higher, along the upper courses of the Yukon and the Tanana, game is more abundant and the inhabitants are less dependent upon the river and its fish.

IV.

Climate.

Mr. Dall (Alaska and Its Resources, p. 285) says that the mild climate of the southern portion of Alaska is due to the Japanese current, which splits on the eastern end of the Aleutian chain, the smaller portion passing north to Bering Strait and preventing the flow of ice southward, and the other portion sweeping south of the islands, bringing a warm, moist atmosphere, which is responsible for the remarkable rainfall. "To fully appreciate," says Mr. Petroff, "how much moisture in the form of fog and rain settles upon the land, one can not do better than to take a walk through one of the narrow valleys to the summit of a lofty peak. He will step upon what appeared from a distance to be a firm greensward, and will sink to his waist in a shaking, tremulous bog."

A report prepared by Chief Willis L. Moore, of the United States Weather Bureau, on the climate of Alaska, is as follows:

The general conception of Alaskan climate is largely due to those who go down to the sea in ships, and this is not strange when we consider the vast extent of shore line-over 26,000 miles-possessed by that Territory. The climates of the coast and the interior are unlike in many respects, and the differences are intensified in this, as perhaps in few other countries, by exceptional physical conditions. The natural contrast between land and sea is here tremendously increased by the current of warm water that impinges on the coast of British Columbia, one branch flowing northward toward Sitka and thence westward to the Kadiak and Shumagin Islands.

The fringe of islands that separates the mainland from the Pacific Ocean from Dixon Sound northward, and also a strip of the mainland for possibly. 20 miles back from the sea, following the sweep of the coast, as it curves to the northwestward, to the western extremity of Alaska, form a distinct climate

division, which may be termed temperate Alaska. The temperature rarely falls to zero; winter does not set in until December 1, and by the last of May the snow has disappeared except on the mountains. The mean winter temperature of Sitka is 32.5 degrees, but little less than that of Washington, D. C. While Sitka is fully exposed to the sea influence, places farther inland, but not over the coast range of mountains, as Killisnoo and Juneau, have also mild temperatures throughout the winter months. The temperature changes from month to month in temperate Alaska are small, not exceeding 25 degrees from midwinter to midsummer. The average temperature of July, the warmest month of summer, rarely reaches 55 degrees, and the highest temperature of a single day seldom reaches 75 degrees.

The rainfall of temperate Alaska is notorious the world over, not only as regards the quantity that falls, but also as to the manner of its falling, viz, in long and incessant rains and drizzles. Cloud and fog naturally abound, there being on an average but sixty-six clear days in the year.

Alaska is a land of striking contrasts, both in climate as well as topography. When the sun shines the atmosphere is remarkably clear; the scenic effects are magnificent; all nature seems to be in holiday attire. But the scene may change very quickly; the sky becomes overcast; the winds increase in force; rain begins to fall; the evergreens sigh ominously, and utter desolation and loneliness prevail.

North of the Aleutian Islands the coast climate becomes more rigorous in winter, but in summer the difference is much less marked. Thus, at St. Michaels, a short distance north of the mouth of the Yukon, the mean summer temperature is 50 degrees, but 4 degrees cooler than Sitka. The mean summer temperature of Point Barrow, the most northerly point in the United States, is 36.8 degrees, but four-tenths of a degree less than the temperature of the air flowing across the summit of Pikes Peak, Colo.

The rainfall of the coast region north of the Yukon Delta is small, diminishing to less than ten inches within the arctic circle.

The climate of the interior, including in that designation practically all of the country except a narrow fringe of coastal margin and the territory before referred to as temperate Alaska, is one of extreme rigor in winter, with a brief, but relatively hot, summer, especially when the sky is free from clouds.

In the Klondike region in midwinter, the sun rises from 9.30 to 10 a. m., and sets from 2 to 3 p. m., the total length of daylight being about four hours. Remembering that the sun rises but a few degrees above the horizon, and that it is wholly obscured on a great many days, the character of the winter months may easily be imagined.

We are indebted to the United States Coast and Geodetic Survey for a series of six months' observations on the Yukon, not far from the site of the present