THE STORY OF SITKA
from the town. Krestof Bay, where the
early navigators cast anchor; Neva Strait,
commemorating the first Russian ship that
visited Sitka from around the world; Kat-
leanski Bay, on which was situated Old Sit-
ka; Silver Bay, a Norwegian fjord trans-
planted to Alaska; Lisianski Bay, named for
the Russian navigator of a century ago; the
inlet at Ozerskoe Redoubt and Globokoe
(Deep) Lake; the island-studded way to the
Hot Springs; each with its individual charm;
the ocean, with the deep, rich, marine tints of
northern waters; the forest of blue, that folds
like a robe over the mountains; the mountain
summits beside the glaciers, clad in the ex-
quisitely wonderful green of the Northland,
all are delightful. But when the sun sinks low
in the west, with the long, lingering twilight of
the North, and the soft, delicate rays touch
and blend with the water and islands, the
mountains and sky--then, in the mystery of
the evening, is the supreme beauty of the land.
To those who have really known and loved
Sitka, there is no place on earth to compare.
There are pleasant recollections of those
who have lived there. Jovial Edward De-
groff and his stories at the Roastplogy Club;
the Mills, whose hospitable home is known to
every resident of the town; Wm. Gouverneur
Morris, whose name recalls a leader of Revo-
THE STORY OF SITKA
from the town. Krestof Bay, where the
early navigators cast anchor; Neva Strait,
commemorating the first Russian ship that
visited Sitka from around the world; Kat-
leanski Bay, on which was situated Old Sit-
ka; Silver Bay, a Norwegian fjord trans-
planted to Alaska; Lisianski Bay, named for
the Russian navigator of a century ago; the
inlet at Ozerskoe Redoubt and Globokoe
(Deep) Lake; the island-studded way to the
Hot Springs; each with its individual charm;
the ocean, with the deep, rich, marine tints of
northern waters; the forest of blue, that folds
like a robe over the mountains; the mountain
summits beside the glaciers, clad in the ex-
quisitely wonderful green of the Northland,
all are delightful. But when the sun sinks low
in the west, with the long, lingering twilight of
the North, and the soft, delicate rays touch
and blend with the water and islands, the
mountains and sky--then, in the mystery of
the evening, is the supreme beauty of the land.
To those who have really known and loved
Sitka, there is no place on earth to compare.
There are pleasant recollections of those
who have lived there. Jovial Edward De-
groff and his stories at the Roastplogy Club;
the Mills, whose hospitable home is known to
every resident of the town; Wm. Gouverneur
Morris, whose name recalls a leader of Revo-