Have arrived off Savonga. The sky is now clear and there is not much wind, but the swell is and keeps on such that, notwithstanding the repeated calls of our siren, the Eskimo whom we see above the beach near their boats, do not dare to launch these and come, nor does the captain care to risk one of our own launches, though we need fresh reindeer meat and all would like once more to meet the nice lot of natives of this village. After a prolonged wait and as conditions show no improvement, nothing remains but to leave the island. Our next stop, if the weather permits, is to be at Nunivak Island. This is a large island off the Alaskan coast, well below the present delta of the Yukon and some distance above Kuskokwim Bay. The island is one of the least explored, and the people living upon it one of the least known. It is only during the last few years that a trading and a reindeer post has been established on this island, and only the second year that there is a teacher. What little is known of the natives, a branch of the Eskimo, shows that they have many different habits from those farther north, in clothing, decoration, etc. They make rather good black pottery, and from this island come the most elaborate carvings in ivory, reminding strongly of small totem poles. A photograph of a group of these people, seen at the Lomen Studio at Nome, showed remarkably broad and short faces, unlike the Eskimo of the north. All of which made me very anxious to visit the island. To be brief such a visit, though promised to me by the captain, could not be realized. The waters about the island are so imperfectly charted that in weather that continued half rough it was thought unwise to risk a landing. I felt this keenly, as the various other impossibilities of the trip. But I could never forget all the unexpected help I received from the Revenue Cutter Service, for which I was deeply grateful, and had to acknowledge the justice of the captain's position. We came so near that the land birds from the island were already about us, but then turned toward the Pribilofs and Unalaska.... Only little remains to be told. At the Pribilof Island, St. Paul, we stopped at night, to take on four live fur seals for the Academy of Sciences of San Francisco, and there we ran once more into stormy weather. Here are a few notes from this period: August 27. Toward evening again a gale, southwest. At night worse. Ship tossing rather wildly. No possibility to me of either getting up or resting. Barely keep from being horribly ill again. Later in night ship had to be turned back and just drift. August 28. All day the storm continues. I could take no meals, not even a drop of water. In bed and barely standing it. Ship hove to at last and just drifting.