About the tents at Camp 3 the rank grass grew waist-high, sheltering the strawberries and dwarf raspberries that bloomed beneath. A little way back from the shore, clumps of alders, interspersed with spruce trees, marked the beginning of the forest which covered the hills toward the west and southwest. Toward the north rose rugged mountains, their summits shrouded in mist; in the steep gorges on their sides the ends of glaciers gleamed white, like foaming cataracts descending from cloudland. The day following our arrival dawned bright and beautiful. Every cloud vanished from the mountains as by magic, revealing their magnificent summits in clear relief. We found ourselves at the base of a rugged mountain range extending far southeastward and northwestward, its first rampart so breached as to allow the waters of the ocean to extend into the very midst of the great peaks beyond. Through this opening we had a splendid view of the snow-clad mountains filling the northern sky and stretching away in lessening perspective toward the east until they blended with the distant clouds. Topographic work was started, and the preparation of "packs" for the journey inland was begun at once; and all hands were kept busy. A base-line was measured by Mr. Kerr, and a beginning was made in the development of a system of triangulation which was carried on throughout the season. Our stay at the camp on the shore extended over a week, and enabled us to become familiar with many of the changes in the rugged scenery surrounding Yakutat bay. The bay itself was covered with icebergs for most of the time. Owing to the prevailing winds and the action of shore currents, the ice accumulated on the coast adjacent to our camp. For many days the beach toward both the north and the south, as far as the eye could reach, was piled high with huge masses of blue and white ice. When the bay was rough, the surf roared angrily among the stranded bergs and, dashing over them, formed splendid sheets of foam; while on bright, sunny days the bay gleamed and flashed in the sunlight as the summer winds gently rippled {87} its surface, and the thousands of icebergs crowding the azure plain seemed a numberless fleet of fairy boats with crystal hulls and fantastic sails of blue and white. When the long summer days drew to a close and gave place to the soft northern twilight, which in summer lasts until the glow of the returning sun is seen in the east, the sea and mountains assumed a soft, mysterious beauty never realized by dwellers in more southern climes. The hours of twilight were so enchanting, the varying shades and changing tints on the mighty snow-fields robing the mountains were so exquisite in their gradations that, even when weary with many hours of toil, the explorer could not resist the charm, and paced the sandy shore until the night was far spent. Sometimes in the twilight hours, long after the sun disappeared, the summits of the majestic peaks