Serge pointed out in rapid succession the picturesque Greek church, the quaint little house known as [the Governor’s Mansion], the marine barracks, the solid log structure of the old Russian trading company, the long, straggling Indian village, and the fine “Governor’s Walk” leading to beautiful Indian River. But he looked in vain for the most conspicuous landmark of all; for old Baranoff Castle, crowning Katlean’s Rock, had been destroyed by fire since he left home.
[GOVERNOR’S MANSION, SITKA, ALASKA]
The Phoca had hardly dropped anchor before another ship appeared entering the bay from the same direction. “The mail-steamer from Puget Sound,” announced Captain Matthews.
This boat brought but few passengers, for the season was yet too early for tourists; but on her upper deck stood a gentleman and a lady, the former of whom was pointing out objects of interest almost as eagerly as Serge had done a short time before.
“It is lovely,” said his companion, enthusiastically, “but it seems perfectly incredible that I should actually be here, and that this is the place for which our Phil set out with such high hopes a year ago. Do you realize, John, that it is just one year ago to-day since he left New London? Oh, if we only knew where the dear boy was at this minute! And to think that I should have got here before him!”
“Now he will probably never get here,” replied Mr. Ryder; “for, on account of that California offer, I shall be obliged to return directly to San Francisco from St. Michaels without even a chance of going up the Yukon, which I know will be a great disappointment to Phil. But look there, Ruth. You have been wanting to see a canoe-load of Indians, and here comes as typical a one as I ever saw. A perfect specimen of an Alaskan dug-out, natives in full winter costume, Eskimo dogs, and a sledge, I declare! They must have just come back from a hunting expedition to the mainland. See the snow-shoes slung on their backs, and how gracefully they handle their paddles! Even Phil might take a lesson from them in that.”
“And, oh!” cried Miss Ruth, “there is a tiny bit of a child, all in furs, just like its father. See? Nestled among the dogs, with a pair of wee snow-shoes on his back too. Isn’t he a darling? How I should love to hug him! Oh, John, we must find them when we get ashore; for that child is the very cutest thing I have seen in all Alaska.”
“All right,” replied Mr. Ryder, smiling good-naturedly at his sister’s enthusiasm. “We will watch and see where they make a landing.”
By this time the steamer was made fast, and the passengers were already going ashore. When Mr. Ryder and his sister gained the wharf they were surprised to see that the very canoe in which they were interested had come to the landing-stage, where its occupants were already disembarking.