SIBERIAN ADVENTURES
slopes of mountains which drop at once sheer into deep water, one mountain per island.[1] No margin is left for a village along the shore, so, like the seabirds that breed here and fly about in countless multitudes darkening the water, the rocks, and the air, the natives had to perch their huts on the cliffs, dragging boats and everything up and down very steep trails. The huts are mostly built of stone with skin roofs. They look like mere stone-heaps, black dots on the snow at a distance, with .whalebone posts set up and framed at the top to lay their canoes beyond the dogs that would otherwise eat them. The dreariest towns I ever beheld—the tops of the islands in gloomy storm-clouds; snow to the water's edge, and blocks of rugged ice for a fringe; then the black water dashing against the ice; the gray sleety sky, the screaming water birds, the howling wind, and the blue gathering sludge!
We now pushed on through the strait and into the Arctic Ocean without encountering any ice, and passed Cape Serdzekamen this afternoon [May 31]. The weather has been calm and tolerably clear for the last twenty-four hours, enabling us to see the coast now
- ↑ Muir noted in his journal that "Fairway Rock near the East Diomede is a similar smaller island, on which the granite rock is glaciated."
