Surely Never A Particle Of Dust Has Touched
Leaf Or Crown Of All These Blessed Mosses; And How Bright Were The
Red Rims Of The Cladonia Cups Beside Them, And The Fruit Of The Dwarf
Cornel!
And the wet berries, Nature's precious jewelry, how beautiful
they were!
- Huckleberries with pale bloom and a crystal drop on each;
red and yellow salmon-berries, with clusters of smaller drops; and
the glittering, berry-like raindrops adorning the interlacing arches
of bent grasses and sedges around the edges of the pools, every drop
a mirror with all the landscape in it. A' that and a' that and twice
as muckle's a' that in this glorious Alaska day, recalling, however
different, George Herbert's "Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright."
In the gardens and forests of this wonderful moraine one might spend
a whole joyful life.
When I at last reached the end of the great moraine and the front of
the mountain that forms the north side of the glacier basin, I tried
to make my way along its side, but, finding the climbing tedious and
difficult, took to the glacier and fared well, though a good deal of
step-cutting was required on its ragged, crevassed margin. When night
was drawing nigh, I scanned the steep mountainside in search of an
accessible bench, however narrow, where a bed and a fire might be
gathered for a camp. About dark great was my delight to find a little
shelf with a few small mountain hemlocks growing in cleavage joints.
Projecting knobs below it enabled me to build a platform for a
fireplace and a bed, and by industrious creeping from one fissure
to another, cutting bushes and small trees and sliding them down to
within reach of my rock-shelf, I made out to collect wood enough to
last through the night. In an hour or two I had a cheery fire, and
spent the night in turning from side to side, steaming and drying
after being wet two days and a night. Fortunately this night it did
not rain, but it was very cold.
Pushing on next day, I climbed to the top of the glacier by ice-steps
and along its side to the grand cataract two miles wide where the
whole majestic flood of the glacier pours like a mighty surging
river down a steep declivity in its channel. After gazing a long time
on the glorious show, I discovered a place beneath the edge of the
cataract where it flows over a hard, resisting granite rib, into which
I crawled and enjoyed the novel and instructive view of a glacier
pouring over my head, showing not only its grinding, polishing action,
but how it breaks off large angular boulder-masses - a most telling
lesson in earth-sculpture, confirming many I had already learned in
the glacier basins of the High Sierra of California. I then crossed
to the south side, noting the forms of the huge blocks into which
the glacier was broken in passing over the brow of the cataract,
and how they were welded.
The weather was now clear, opening views according to my own heart
far into the high snowy fountains. I saw what seemed the farthest
mountains, perhaps thirty miles from the front, everywhere
winter-bound, but thick forested, however steep, for a distance of
at least fifteen miles from the front, the trees, hemlock and spruce,
clinging to the rock by root-holds among cleavage joints. The
greatest discovery was in methods of denudation displayed beneath
the glacier.
After a few more days of exhilarating study I returned to the
river-bank opposite Choquette's landing. Promptly at sight of the
signal I made, the kind Frenchman came across for me in his canoe. At
his house I enjoyed a rest while writing out notes; then examined the
smaller glacier fronting the one I had been exploring, until a
passing canoe bound for Fort Wrangell took me aboard.
Chapter IX
A Canoe Voyage to Northward
I arrived at Wrangell in a canoe with a party of Cassiar miners in
October while the icy regions to the northward still burned in my
mind. I had met several prospectors who had been as far as Chilcat at
the head of Lynn Canal, who told wonderful stories about the great
glaciers they had seen there. All the high mountains up there, they
said, seemed to be made of ice, and if glaciers "are what you are
after, that's the place for you," and to get there "all you have to
do is to hire a good canoe and Indians who know the way."
But it now seemed too late to set out on so long a voyage. The days
were growing short and winter was drawing nigh when all the land
would be buried in snow. On the other hand, though this wilderness
was new to me, I was familiar with storms and enjoyed them. The main
channels extending along the coast remain open all winter, and, their
shores being well forested, I knew that it would be easy to keep warm
in camp, while abundance of food could be carried. I determined,
therefore, to go ahead as far north as possible, to see and learn
what I could, especially with reference to future work. When I made
known my plans to Mr. Young, he offered to go with me, and, being
acquainted with the Indians, procured a good canoe and crew, and with
a large stock of provisions and blankets, we left Wrangell October
14, eager to welcome weather of every sort, as long as food lasted.
I was anxious to make an early start, but it was half-past two in the
afternoon before I could get my Indians together - Toyatte, a grand
old Stickeen nobleman, who was made captain, not only because he
owned the canoe, but for his skill in woodcraft and seamanship;
Kadachan, the son of a Chilcat chief; John, a Stickeen, who acted as
interpreter; and Sitka Charley.
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