Then back, as fast as possible, the Indians carrying the bags with bones, and load on boat. My shoes and feet have long since become thoroughly wet, after which Mr. Wegner loaned me wool socks and native shoes that protected my feet. But now these must be left behind and I have to get into my wet, cold shoes--socks too wet. Officers in a hurry to get back. It is now 3.00 a. m.; the sun rose about 1.30. Pay my men, change shoes, photograph women (pl. 8) and then men--all pleasant and willing. See a few poor articles of archeological nature--not worth getting; and after a hearty handshake with the teacher we take off through the somewhat rougher water to the whaleboat, then on to the motor boat and the ship. Arrive with six bags of specimens, reaching boat just a little after 4. Sleepy captain meets us, but luckily shows no grudge, though this stop and his loss of sleep were essentially for me. Though it would seem they could have readily waited for our going ashore until morning, or have given me a little more time at the Diomedes, which would have brought us here later. Am too much awake now and worked up to sleep. Lie down a while but fully awake. Total sleep last night 2½ hours. But it was worth it, except for the vandalism. Pack--inadequate boxes--until 3.30 p. m. Whole collection made last night put in order. But back and knees stiff. Weather two-thirds fair (my own estimate), some wind, sea choppy. Lie down but can not sleep. At 5.30 off Kotzebue. Due to shallowness of water must anchor far out of sight. At 6 go to land in ship's larger launch. Waves rather bad, much tossing about and spray, have to get behind the canvas canopy that is raised over one seat. It is 15 miles from where the _Bear_ is anchored to the Kotzebue village--over two hours of (at times) rather violent tossing up and down and sidewise. Run for a part of the time not far from beach--a number of isolated, orderly fish camps--lots of fish drying. Wonder at not getting seasick again--it must be the open air or difference of movement. Kotzebue village lies around a point on a not very high, flat bank, facing the bay of three rivers (Selavik, Kobuk, Noatak). As we approach I count over 50 clean tents of Eskimos, about 15 frame houses and stores, and many skin and other boats on beach or in water. Many natives hurry to meet us. Go ashore. Thomas Berryman, the trader, with the local judge and two or three other whites come also to meet us. After getting acquainted inquire about possibility of exploring the Kobuk and reaching the Koyukuk and Yukon. But all that I learn is uncertain and discouraging. There are but few native villages on the river, all Eskimo; and higher up the water is rapid, necessitating much hauling of the boat by the natives, which is costly; upon which follow three or four days' portage. The trip would cost much, and no loads over 40 pounds to a man could be carried.