Somewhere west of them, hazardously near, must lie the rocks of Admiralty Island; eastward were the still more pitiless glacial sandstones and granites of the coast, with that deadly finger of sea-washed reef between, along the lip of which they must creep to Juneau.

And Juneau could not be far ahead.
He leaned over the rail, puffing at the stub of his cigar.

He was eager for his work.

Juneau, Skagway, and Cordova meant nothing to him, except that they were Alaska.

He yearned for the still farther north, the wide tundras, and the mighty achievement that lay ahead of him there.