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Pack my stones and bones collected between here and Holy Cross, and after lunch go to Russian Mission. Meet Mr. Cris Betsch, the trader, and find him both friendly and anxious to help. Teacher and her mother invite me to supper. Before that Mr. Betsch calls in a number of the older men, and we have a talk about ancient things, but they know nothing worth while beyond a few score of years at most; they give me, however, some data and names of old villages.

A few years ago some human bones and skulls were dug up here and reburied. Eskimo readily agree to help us find them and to let me take them. Moreover, they are quite eager to dig up an old medicine man supposed to be buried under a good-sized (for this country) blue spruce. They get shovels, soon find some of the old bones and a damaged skull, and later on, with the help of information given by an elderly woman, uncover also a female skull. Uncover further the end of two birch-bark-covered coffins, from Russian time, and would readily dig them out did I not restrain them; as also with the medicine man. We shall probably get some such specimens from this locality later, so there is no need of disturbing the burials.

Mrs. Barrick, the teacher, gives us a "civilized" supper, at which I am introduced for the first time to a great and fine Yukon specialty, namely, smoked raw strips of king salmon, and find them excellent. Then a good talk with all, after which pack specimens—still somewhat damp, but it would be difficult to wait—deliver to the post, and am sent to my place around the hill at a little past 10 p. m. with an invitation by Mr. Betsch to go to-morrow to "the slough of the 32 kashims (council or communal house)," about 10 miles down the river. But I have already been promised by Gurtler to take me down to this place, and so I can not accept. Just now I need sleep.

July 7. After breakfast examine banks and beach along Gurtler's place and find two stone implements, two pieces of decorated pottery, and a bone of some animal. Wash, dry, and pack, then a cup of coffee—the Gurtler's have a habit of drinking a second cup at about 10 a. m. each day—and then, after some of the seemingly inevitable trouble with motor, start down the river. It rained yesterday; the clouds show low pressure; it is not warm and the water is somewhat rough.

Stop a bit at the mission to give Mrs. Barrick a fish and get a bag or two from Mr. Betsch, and then proceed. From the river the Russian Mission settlement is seen to be very favorably situated at the foot of the southern slope of a big hill. But the recency of the flat below and in front of the church and schoolhouse is clearly seen again. The site about where the church and school are may—in fact must, it is so favored—be a very old one, and doubtless a thorough excavation of the slope from the back of the houses upward would be both easy and very instructive. The place should by all means receive attention.

Reach and examine the "32 kashim slough," a beautiful side channel about 7 miles long; reach about 1½ miles from its entrance, examine banks and pass through jungle, find tracks of foxes and of a bear, also see one big beautiful red fox trotting ahead of us on the other beach—but not a trace of man. Examine also the "mounds" on Grand Island, but find them to be only dunes.

Lunch on the beach; remarkably few mosquitoes and no gnats; smoked raw salmon strips again, and coffee; and at 5 leave for home, it being impossible so late to go down to the end of the channel.

On return all going nicely until 5. Then, in a slough 3½ miles from the Russian Mission, after an examination of another likely site, breakdown of the motor. Do everything possible to make it go until about 8, but in vain. Then I take the crazy little rowboat that luckily we took with us, bail out the water with our shovel, and row to the mission for help. Get there about 9, send back a launch with some natives, have a little supper with the teacher, and row home around the hill, reaching Gurtler's near 11. In a few minutes the launch is towed in and all is well once more. Mr. Betsch got for us two good native "kantágs" or wooden dishes. Also we fix to go down to the "32 kashims" to-morrow once more with Mr. Betsch and the teacher.

July 8. Up a little after 6; breakfast; and then comes in a native from the mission with two letters and information that the Agnes, the little mail-carrier boat, has arrived during the night and is waiting for me to take me to Marshall and to Old Hamilton, whence another boat will take me in a day or two to St. Michael. So get ready in a minute, put my baggage on a native's boat, pay my bill, leave another lot of good friends, and row to the mission. There is the little dinghy Agnes with its "accommodation" for three passengers already two-thirds filled up, and towing two big logs as a freight. Put my things partly in a "bunk," partly on the roof, give good-byes to Betsch and the teacher, help to push off the boat which is stuck in the mud, and we are off for another Yukon chapter.

We pass by the lower end of the "32 kashim" slough—no sign of any site—all recently made flats. If there is anything left of the old sites it must be at the foot of the hills, or has been covered with silt. The site is so favorable that in all probability there was once there a good-sized settlement, but due to river action and the jungle it could not be located. Mr. Betsch visited the place that day, and again with some old natives on another occasion, without being more fortunate.

Cloudy, slightly drizzly day, no trace of sun, mists over the tops of the hills. Could not stand it in the boat, so sitting on my box on the roof of the boat, wrapped, due to the cold, in a blanket.

A little below the "32 kashim" slough a small stream enters from inland—a place to be examined; but this boat can not stop for such a purpose.

A half mile or so farther down a few graves and crosses, with remnants of a native habitation.

Over 3 miles down, just beyond first bluff, fine site, with low hills stretching far beyond it—now but a few empty, half-ruined native houses. Should be explored.

South of second rocky bluff a live camp, and farther down another.

The left side of the river is still all flats as far as one can see, but about 17 miles below Russian Mission human bones came out of a bank there (on a slough).