would
never know me. I wanted to scream with laughter, but could not, for I
had performed the operation in a most surreptitious manner, behind
closed doors (bunk curtains), after the others had retired.

I had no compunctions of conscience as to putting my shoes upon the bed,
for the mattress was both sombre and lonely, and as for the muckluks,
they had never been worn by man (and were surely never made for woman).
The most that I could do was to lie back upon my bed, cram my fascinator
into my mouth, and struggle to suppress my risibles.

After a time I succeeded, and lay enjoying the new sensation of feet
and limbs warm and cozy as if in my mother's warm parlor at home; and
then I slept.

Next morning I kept my berth late. My sleep had been much broken, and
the place was cold. The bad air had taken my appetite, and there were
already too many in the small cabin for convenience. Four or five men
and three women besides our own party of seven, crowded in between the
dining table and the berths, filled the small cabin quite beyond
comfort.

The main question in my mind, however, was how to prevent the company
from seeing my feet. I would put off the evil hour as long as possible,
for they were sure to laugh heartily when they saw my muckluks, and to
take them off--I would not. Some one brought me a sandwich finally,
inquiring at the same time for my health, but I assured them it was
first class,--I was only resting. Watching my opportunity, toward noon I
slipped out of my berth quietly and made myself ready for dinner,
keeping my feet well out of sight, for cook Jim had promised a fine
spread for the two o'clock meal.

When it came I was ready. It is said that hunger is a good sauce, and I
believe this is true, for otherwise I could never have eaten the dinner
that day. Upon a soiled and rumpled white (?) cloth Jim placed his "big
spread," which consisted of whole jacketed boiled and baked potatoes,
meat stew (no questions allowed), dried prunes stewed, biscuits, and
fourth rate butter, with tea and coffee.

[Illustration: MAP OF ALASKA.]

[Illustration: MAP OF ALASKA.]

At only one camp was there a stop made. There were two or three
passengers on board for Bluff City, a new and prosperous mining camp,
composed chiefly, though so late in the season, of tents. Lumber and
supplies of different kinds had to be put off. As the entrance to the
hold of the ship where the stores were kept was in our cabin, we had
pl