Lingering A While And Sauntering About In Sight Of The Shore, I Found
This Eastern Side Of The Glacier Remarkably Free From Large
Crevasses.
Nearly all I met were so narrow I could step across them
almost anywhere, while the few wide ones were easily avoided by going
up or down along their sides to where they narrowed.
The dismal cloud
ceiling showed rifts here and there, and, thus encouraged, I struck
out for the west shore, aiming to strike it five or six miles above
the front wall, cautiously taking compass bearings at short intervals
to enable me to find my way back should the weather darken again with
mist or rain or snow. The structure lines of the glacier itself were,
however, my main guide. All went well. I came to a deeply furrowed
section about two miles in width where I had to zigzag in long,
tedious tacks and make narrow doublings, tracing the edges of wide
longitudinal furrows and chasms until I could find a bridge
connecting their sides, oftentimes making the direct distance ten
times over. The walking was good of its kind, however, and by dint of
patient doubling and axe-work on dangerous places, I gained the
opposite shore in about three hours, the width of the glacier at this
point being about seven miles. Occasionally, while making my way, the
clouds lifted a little, revealing a few bald, rough mountains sunk to
the throat in the broad, icy sea which encompassed them on all sides,
sweeping on forever and forever as we count time, wearing them away,
giving them the shape they are destined to take when in the fullness
of time they shall be parts of new landscapes.
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