. As one sees it from, the
ocean, Kamchatka appears more like a desolate than a habitable
country.

It requires very good eyesight to discover the entrance of Avatcha Bay
at a distance of eight or ten miles, but the landmarks are of such
excellent character that one can approach without hesitation. The
passage is more than a mile wide. Guarding it on the right is a hill
nearly three hundred feet high, and standing almost perpendicular
above the water. At the left is a rock of lesser height, terminating a
tongue or ridge of land. On the hill is a light-house and signal
station with a flag staff. Formerly the light was only exhibited when
a ship was expected or seen, but in 1866, orders were given for its
maintainance every night during the summer months.

Years ago, on the coast of New Hampshire, a man from the interior was
appointed light keeper. The day he assumed his position was his first
on the sea-shore. Very soon there were complaints that his lights did
not burn after midnight. On being called to account by his superior,
he explained--

"Well, I thought all the ships ought to be in by midnight, and I
wanted to save the ile."

CHAPTER III.

As one leaves the Pacific and enters Avatcha Bay he passes high rocks
and cliffs, washed at their base by the waves. The loud-sounding ocean
working steadily against the solid walls, has worn caverns and dark
passages, haunted by thousands of screaming and fluttering sea-birds.
The bay is circular and about twenty miles in diameter; except at the
place of entrance it is enclosed with hills and mountains that give it
the appearance of a highland lake. All over it there is excellent
anchorage for ships of every class, while around its sides are several
little harbors, like miniature copies of the bay.

At Petropavlovsk we hoped to find the Russian ship of war, Variag, and
the barque Clara Bell, which sailed from San Francisco six weeks
before us. As we entered the bay, all eyes were turned toward the
little harbor. "There is the Russian," said three or four voices at
once, as the tall masts aird wide spars of a corvette came in sight.
"The Clara Bell, the Clara Bell--no, it's a brig," was our exclamation
at the appearance of a vessel behind the Variag.

"There's another, a barque certainly,--no, it's a brig, too," uttered
the colonel with an emphasis of disgust. Evidently his barque was on
the sea.

Rounding the shoal we moved toward the fort, the Russian corve