The Highest Temperature Observed Here During The Summer Was
Seventy-Six Degrees.
The most remarkable characteristic of this
summer weather, even the brightest of it, is the velvet softness
of the atmosphere.
On the mountains of California, throughout the
greater part of the year, the presence of an atmosphere is hardly
recognized, and the thin, white, bodiless light of the morning comes
to the peaks and glaciers as a pure spiritual essence, the most
impressive of all the terrestrial manifestations of God. The clearest
of Alaskan air is always appreciably substantial, so much so that it
would seem as if one might test its quality by rubbing it between the
thumb and finger. I never before saw summer days so white and so full
of subdued lustre.
The winter storms, up to the end of December when I left Wrangell,
were mostly rain at a temperature of thirty-five or forty degrees,
with strong winds which sometimes roughly lash the shores and carry
scud far into the woods. The long nights are then gloomy enough and
the value of snug homes with crackling yellow cedar fires may be
finely appreciated. Snow falls frequently, but never to any great
depth or to lie long. It is said that only once since the settlement
of Fort Wrangell has the ground been covered to a depth of four feet.
The mercury seldom falls more than five or six degrees below the
freezing-point, unless the wind blows steadily from the mainland.
Back from the coast, however, beyond the mountains, the winter months
are very cold. On the Stickeen River at Glenora, less than a thousand
feet above the level of the sea, a temperature of from thirty to
forty degrees below zero is not uncommon.
Chapter IV
The Stickeen River
The most interesting of the short excursions we made from Fort
Wrangell was the one up the Stickeen River to the head of steam
navigation. From Mt. St. Elias the coast range extends in a broad,
lofty chain beyond the southern boundary of the territory, gashed by
stupendous canyons, each of which carries a lively river, though most
of them are comparatively short, as their highest sources lie in the
icy solitudes of the range within forty or fifty miles of the coast.
A few, however, of these foaming, roaring streams - the Alsek,
Chilcat, Chilcoot, Taku, Stickeen, and perhaps others - head beyond
the range with some of the southwest branches of the Mackenzie and
Yukon.
The largest side branches of the main-trunk canyons of all these
mountain streams are still occupied by glaciers which descend in
showy ranks, their messy, bulging snouts lying back a little distance
in the shadows of the walls, or pushing forward among the
cotton-woods that line the banks of the rivers, or even stretching
all the way across the main canyons, compelling the rivers to find a
channel beneath them.
The Stickeen was, perhaps, the best known of the rivers that cross
the Coast Range, because it was the best way to the Mackenzie River
Cassiar gold-mines. It is about three hundred and fifty miles long,
and is navigable for small steamers a hundred and fifty miles to
Glenora, and sometimes to Telegraph Creek, fifteen miles farther. It
first pursues a westerly course through grassy plains darkened here
and there with groves of spruce and pine; then, curving southward and
receiving numerous tributaries from the north, it enters the Coast
Range, and sweeps across it through a magnificent canyon three
thousand to five thousand feet deep, and more than a hundred miles
long. The majestic cliffs and mountains forming the canyon walls
display endless variety of form and sculpture, and are wonderfully
adorned and enlivened with glaciers and waterfalls, while throughout
almost its whole extent the floor is a flowery landscape garden, like
Yosemite. The most striking features are the glaciers, hanging over
the cliffs, descending the side canyons and pushing forward to the
river, greatly enhancing the wild beauty of all the others.
Gliding along the swift-flowing river, the views change with
bewildering rapidity. Wonderful, too, are the changes dependent on
the seasons and the weather. In spring, when the snow is melting
fast, you enjoy the countless rejoicing waterfalls; the gentle
breathing of warm winds; the colors of the young leaves and flowers
when the bees are busy and wafts of fragrance are drifting hither and
thither from miles of wild roses, clover, and honeysuckle; the swaths
of birch and willow on the lower slopes following the melting of the
winter avalanche snow-banks; the bossy cumuli swelling in white and
purple piles above the highest peaks; gray rain-clouds wreathing
the outstanding brows and battlements of the walls; and the
breaking-forth of the sun after the rain; the shining of the leaves
and streams and crystal architecture of the glaciers; the rising of
fresh fragrance; the song of the happy birds; and the serene
color-grandeur of the morning and evening sky. In summer you find
the groves and gardens in full dress; glaciers melting rapidly under
sunshine and rain; waterfalls in all their glory; the river rejoicing
in its strength; young birds trying their wings; bears enjoying
salmon and berries; all the life of the canyon brimming full like the
streams. In autumn comes rest, as if the year's work were done. The
rich hazy sunshine streaming over the cliffs calls forth the last
of the gentians and goldenrods; the groves and thickets and meadows
bloom again as their leaves change to red and yellow petals; the
rocks also, and the glaciers, seem to bloom like the plants in the
mellow golden light. And so goes the song, change succeeding change
in sublime harmony through all the wonderful seasons and weather.
My first trip up the river was made in the spring with the missionary
party soon after our arrival at Wrangell. We left Wrangell in the
afternoon and anchored for the night above the river delta, and
started up the river early next morning when the heights above the
"Big Stickeen" Glacier and the smooth domes and copings and arches of
solid snow along the tops of the canyon walls were glowing in the
early beams.
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