2 In Great Waters

trees, come right down to the water’s edge on easy-
sloping mountain-sides, or you travel in water dotted
with little icebergs and between mile-high, bare,
precipitous cliffs, streaked with the white foam of
many tumbling cascades rushing down from green
glaciers. At times you will feel, as on the west coast
of Vancouver Island, or in Queen Charlotte Sound,
the full and terrible power of a tempest on the
Pacific. Then slipping away from the fury of the
wind you will, in an hour or two, enter protected
waters that are as still asa pond. One evening you
will wonder perhaps that the captain of your big
four-thousand-ton steamboat ties up and waits for
the slack rather than face a contrary tide in some
narrow strait. You will not wonder when you see
and hear the wild tidal stream, immensely deep,
crazily roaring its way, crossed with mad, travelling
whirlpools of enormous strength, through the tor-
tuous passage. When the call of the forces of the
universe is temporarily satisfied the waters are
balanced and the quiet of slack-water prevails for a
few minutes. Then the madness comes on again
and they flood back wildly whence they came. If *
the steamboats wisely fear these tidal ways, you can
imagine with what care the skipper of the little
launch will study his tide-book. If once you are
caught in the lunatic arms of the Yucultas, the Sey-
mours, or the Skookumchuck, running strong in high
tide, you will definitely decide never to let it happen
again.

But those of you who only take your pleasant,