Henry Wood Elliott

Henry Wood Elliott

Summary

Portrait of Henry Wood Elliott Henry Wood Elliott Our Arctic province (1906)

Paul coast, from Northeast Point down and around to Zapadnie, lining the alternating sand-beaches and rocky shingle with their chunky, black forms. How they do delight in it! They play with a zest, and chatter like our own children in the kindergartens—swimming in endless evolutions, twisting, turning, or diving—and when exhausted, drawing their plump, round bodies up again on the beach. Shaking themselves dry as young dogs would do, they now either go to sleep on the spot or have a lazy terrestrial frolic among themselves.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Henry Wood Elliott Henry Wood Elliott Our Arctic province (1906)

Blooming here in the short summer of July, on those desolate moors adjacent to Point Barrow, is the same dandelion and buttercup which filled the Englishman then, as it does us now, with thoughts of meadows at home, and some bright little poppies still nod their yellow heads again to us, as they did to him, on this low north end of Alaska. A tiny golden butterfly flits from flower to flower, and as they fade, it, too, disappears over frost-bitten swales.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Henry Wood Elliott Henry Wood Elliott Our Arctic province (1906)

Every minute of the ship’s progress in a free, fair wind shifts the fascinating scene—a new peak, another bold headland, a narrow pass, unfolds now between two islets that just before apparently were solid and as united as one island could be; a steamy jet of hot-spring vapor rises from a deeper, richer mass of green and gold than that surrounding it, and a dark-brownish column of smoke that issues from a lofty, cloud-encircled summit in the distance is the burning crater of Akootan.
Source: Gutenberg

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