One hundred miles more to Ruby. Near 8 p. m. start again--sun still high, little wind--endeavor to get to the "bone yard," a great bank bearing fossils. Fine clean scenery, flat on left, flat to elevated with grey-blue mountainous beyond on right. Water now calm and we make good progress. Very few camps--dogs on the beach, fish-drying racks a little farther, then a little log cabin and perhaps a tent, with somewhere near by in the river the inevitable fish wheel, turning slowly with the current. Had supper at Burchell's; white fish, boiled potato, coffee, some canned greens. Scenery in spots precious, virginal, flat at the river, elevated behind, foreground covered by the lighter green of poplars and birches, with upright, somber, dark spruce behind. Sun on the right, half moon on the left, and river like a big glassy lake, just rippling a little here and there. Cooler--need a coat. On right, getting gradually nearer the mountains. Near 10 p. m. Sun still above horizon. On left a long (several miles), mostly wooded, but here and there denuded, palisade-like bank, apparently 200-400 feet high--the "graveyard." Monday, June 21. Just at sunset last night--after 10 o'clock--came to the "bone yard" bank--a long curving line of loess bluffs 100 to 300 feet high, steep right to water's edge, riven by many ravines. Lowest third (approximately) light compact loess; then a thick layer of river sand (stratified more or less) and small gravel, then from one-third to nearly two-fifths of darker loess. In spots quite dark, frozen, but on surface melting, "running," also tumbling in smaller or larger masses. Wherever darker there emanates from it and spreads far out over the river a decided mummy-like smell. Too late to photograph from boat, and no other place available. Also impracticable to explore with any detail--would take several days and be a difficult work. The bluffs become gradually lower downstream. No bones seen from boat, but mostly were not near enough to discern. A remarkable formation, in many ways, and in need of masterly study as well as description. Night on a low gravelly and pebbly beach. Many mosquitoes. Mosquito netting found bad--sides too short (gave directions, but they were disregarded) and mesh not small enough. In a short time impossible to stay under. Supplemented by old netting of Mr. Peake, who will sleep under his canvas in the boat; but the old dirty net has holes in it and the mosquitoes keep on coming through the two. Fighting them until some time after midnight, then under all my things--netting, blanket, clothes--find some rest, sleeping until 4.30 a. m. After that--full day, of course--sleep impossible. The "optician," who slept well under proper Alaska netting, gets up, wakes my man; we both get up, shake, roll up bedding, have a cat-wash, then breakfast, and at 6.30 off once more along the beautiful but not hospitable river.