| Summary: | Newsletter of the North Dakota School for the Deaf. The North Dakota Banner the beautiful land of the Black Hills. We were so enchanted that we want to go there again next year. There are many other places that we have not seen yet but we are saving them For our next visit. —Leora Ottaway. A Trip (o Alaska With Alaska as a destination, the summer's vacation "'lowed with anticipated novel experiences. . The first real thrill came when 1 stepped oil' the train and Found we were in a pocket of limestone peaks, pine forests, and lawns, through which was flowing the glacial-green Bow River. Here at Banff was the beginning oF a sublime and majestic beauty. We motored From there to Lake Louise—a distance of :!o miles, and the mental picture oF those stately Rockies is indelible. Lake Louise is a perfect scene, a. spectrum oi" color, enclosed by magnificent snow-capped peaks and Victoria Glacier. Added to this natural beauty is the wonderful Alpine flower garden—where poppies, violets, columbines, anemones and sheep laurel lend a colorful charm to the Chateau Lake Louise. The beauty and wildness oF the Canadian Rockies take hold and grip the visitor, and one is loath to continue the journey, knowing in the end, the mighty mountain ranges, the black canyons, the glaciers, all must pass from sight. But other attractions offer themselves as splendid substitutes—Vancouver, Canada's western gateway, is an interesting and pretty city. Just across f.lie Straits is Vancouver Island with Victoria, a quaint, beautiful place with its tall rock walls and blue Canterbury Bells—truly a "bit of Old England" as artists have painted and poets described. The true spirit of adventure was felt when we were aboard the S. S. Princess Alice, starting Alaskaward—where the "Land of Mystery" was awaiting us. The Inside Passage is so very beautiful, and Miss Burr, in tier book on Alaska, has done it full justice in saying, "It would seem as if Nature has especially prepared the highway leading to Alaska so that every part of a. trip thither might be delightful." There are blue mountains near by, snow-cappped peaks in (he distance, glaciers, icebergs, silent fiords, deep dark canyons, and everywhere are wild flowers of a brilliant hue. Our first port oF entry, Ketchikan, is fifty miles north of the international boundary. There we had our first glimpse oF, what seemed to be, a typical Alaskan town—the natives are a very interesting people, their totem poles are especially so—the true significance of totemism is recorded history, genealogy, legend, memorial, commemoration and art. We visited the salmon canneries and cold storage plants, where millions of pounds of halibut are frozen each year. We were very much attracted by the old Indian burial grounds—the quaint Indian graves set upon stilts to keep the bodies away from the wild beasts. All oF the towns along the way were unique and interesting—one of the things the visitor remembers most, I think, is the glacier there are large ones and small ones, live ones and dead ones, and hanging glaciers—Taku Glacier, a giant live glacier 300 Feet high and over two miles wide, at the head of Taku Inlet, is a special object of attraction. About one seventh of this berg is above water. As we stood on the ship's deck looking with awe at this big river of solid, blue ice, a. large iceberg moved slowly down to the sea, and broke off with a crash, and went drifting down flic inlet. At Juneau we visited the governor's mansion, the mines and canneries, and the .Alaska Territorial Museum, which contains a large collection of Eskimo and Indian curios. Leaving Juneau our vessel entered the Lynn Canal, named after Lieutenant Lynn, a member of Captain Cook's expedition. At the north end of this canal, lies Skagway— the starting point for the goldseekers in the rush days of '97 and '98. One can visualize the town as Robert W. Service has depicted to us in those days, when lawlessness prevailed. We visited the graves of "Soapy Smith" and his conqueror, Frank Reid. From Skagway we went inland across White Pass, following the Old Trail of '98. Up and up over canyons, bare: jagged peaks, —we seemed to be riding on top of the world—all along the way we could see little sticks held up by a pile of stones, marking the places of those who found the struggle too great. Far down in the canyon we saw Dead Horse Gulch, where three thousand horses and mules died in three years. At the summit we entered the British Territory and the little lake there is claimed by many to be the source of the Yukon River. For twenty-eight miles we rode along the shores of Lake Bennett, with brilliantly colored walls of rock encircling us. At the end was Carcross—better known to the Indians as Caribou Crossing, because of the great herds of caribou that used to cross there. At Carcross we took a river steamer and went up West Taku Arm-here at the other end of Taku Glacier we found dahlias, pan- sies, and all kinds of flowers of an unknown size. We were not far enough north to see the Midnight Sun, but we were in the land of the midnight sunset—the darkness never
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