Day after day passed. Those who were continually seasick had diversion enough. It was useless for us to tell them a pathetic tale of some one, who, at some time, had been more ill than they, because they would not believe a word of it, and it was equally useless to recommend an antidote for mal de mer such as theirs. "No one was ever so ill before," they said. They knew they should die and be buried at sea, and hoped they would if that would put an end to their sufferings. We tried at last to give them comfort by recommending out of former experiences ship's biscuit, dry toast and pop-corn as remedies, but only received black looks as our reward. We then concluded that a diet of tea, coffee and soup was exactly such a one as the fishes would recommend could they speak, these favorite and much used liquids keeping up a continual "swishing" in one's interior regions, and causing one to truthfully speak of the same as "infernal" instead of internal. But they were all tree physical as well as free moral agents and decided these things for themselves. At last we entered the Japan current and the weather was warmer and more enjoyable. On Monday, June fourth, we saw from the deck a few drifting logs and a quantity of seaweed, and these, with the presence of gulls and goonies flying overhead, convinced us that we were nearing land. We were not mistaken. After eating an excellent six o'clock dinner we went above to find ourselves between high, rocky cliffs, which loomed up into mountains not far distant, and we knew we were again at the Aleutian Islands and in the rough waters of Unimak Pass. As we drew nearer and entered the harbor so well land-locked, the sun dipped low into yellow-red western waters, thereby casting long shadows aslant our pathway so delicately shaded in greens. The little hamlet of Dutch Harbor nestled cosily at the foot of the mountains which bordered the bay, and here numbers of ships lay anchored at rest. Passing along easily beyond another high mountain, we were soon at the dock of Unalaska, beside other great ships in port. Both groups of craft were evidently waiting for the ice to clear from Behring Sea before proceeding on their way northward, and we counted sixteen ships of different kinds and sizes, the majority of them large steamers. All were loaded with passengers and freight for Nome. Scout boats had already been sent out to investigate and find, if possible, a passage through the ice fields, and the return of these scouts with good news was anxiously watched and waited for, as the most desired thing at that time was a speedy and safe landing on the supposedly golden beach sands of Nome.