Fairway Rock, King Island, Cape Prince of Wales, and the lofty mountains towards the head of the river that enters Golovin Bay, all from one point of view. The King Island natives were away on the mainland, all save a few old or crippled men, and women and children. Their town is the most remarkably situated of all that I have seen, on the face of a steep slope, almost a cliff, and presents a very strange appearance. Some 50 stone huts, like those of the Arizona cliff dwellers, scarcely visible at a short distance, rise like heaps of stones among heaps of stones. These are the winter huts, and entered by tunnels. The summer huts, of skin, large square boxes on stilts, are stretched over large poles of driftwood. There is no way of landing save amid a mass of great wave beaten boulders. The King Islanders have excellent canoes in stormy times to be pitched off into the sea when a wave is about to recede. Two are tied together for safety in rough weather. These pairs live in any sea. A few gray-headed old couples came off with some odds ands ends to trade. Mr. Nelson and I went ashore to obtain photographs and sketches and to
Original journal dimensions: 11.5 x 21 cm.
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John Muir, journals, drawings, writings, travel, journaling, naturalist