While collecting plants on Wrangel Island, the Editor was surprised at the tameness of the shore ravens of that part of the world. They would sit on stumps and enjoy their meals of stale fish entirely without concern. On one occasion, to test their tameness, he walked quietly towards one, and approached within five feet before the bird flew away. It was afterwards found that these birds are held sacred by the Alaska Indians. The children are taught never to kill one, and are punished when they do. They believe in a kind of purgatory, where the souls of the imperfect suffer the pain of hope deferred, in their endeavor to reach the nice, warm place which is the Alaskan Heaven. Many of these souls are detained in ravens. That is, a raven may have a detained spirit for its essential being, and hence, naturally, they receive Indian protection. Their voice is often marvelously like that of some scolding human beings; and more than once the writer has started "as if shot," when in these wild woods, by supposing some Indian was yelling at him from behind.