"It must be an arm of the sea, frozen over and covered with snow," said
Phil.

"But," objected Serge, "on this coast no such body of salt water stays
frozen so late in the season; for we are well into April now, you know."

"Then it is a great lake."

"I never heard of any lake on this side of the mountains."

"I don't reckon it's the sea; but salt water's mighty nigh," said Jalap
Coombs, sniffing the air as eagerly as a hound on the scent of game.

"Whatever it is," said Phil, "we've got to cross it, and I am going to
head straight for that opening."

So they again bent to their traces, and a few hours later had crossed
the great white plain, and were skirting the base of a mountain that
rose on their left. Its splintered crags showed the dull red of iron
rust wherever they were bare of snow, and only thin fringes of snow were
to be seen in its more sheltered gorges.

Suddenly Phil halted, his face paled, and his lips quivered with
emotion. "The sea!" he gasped. "Over there, Serge!"

Jalap Coombs caught the words, and was on his feet in an instant, all
his pain forgotten in a desire to once more catch a glimpse of his
beloved salt water.

"Yes," replied Serge, after a long look. "It certainly is a narrow bay.
How I wish we knew what one! But, Phil! what is that, down there near
the foot of the cliffs? Is it--can it be--a house?"

"Where?" cried Phil. "Yes, I see! I do believe it is! Yes, it certainly
is a house."

CHAPTER XXXVI.

THE MOST FAMOUS ALASKAN GLACIER.

That little house nestling at the base of a precipitous mountain, and
still nearly a mile away, was just then a more fascinating sight to our
half-starved, toil-worn travellers than even the sea itself, and filled
with a hopeful excitement they hastened toward it. It was probably a
salmon cannery or saltery, or a trading-post. At any rate the one house
they had discovered was that of a white man; for it had a chimney, and
none of the Tlingits or natives of southern Alaska build chimneys.

While Phil and Jalap Coombs were full of confidence that a few minutes
more would find them in a settlement of white men, Serge was greatly
puzzled, and, though he said little, kept up a deal of thinking as he
tugged at the rawhide sledge-trace. He felt that he ought to know the
place, for he did not believe they were one hundred miles from Sitka;
but he could not remember having heard of any white settlement on that
part of the coast, except at the Chilka