Following A Dry Channel For About A Mile, I Came Suddenly Upon The
Main Outlet Of The Glacier, Which In The Imperfect Light Seemed As
Large As The River, About One Hundred And Fifty Feet Wide, And
Perhaps Three Or Four Feet Deep.
A little farther up it was only
about fifty feet wide and rushing on with impetuous roaring force in
its rocky channel, sweeping forward sand, gravel, cobblestones, and
boulders, the bump and rumble sounds of the largest of these rolling
stones being readily heard in the midst of the roaring.
It was too
swift and rough to ford, and no bridge tree could be found, for the
great floods had cleared everything out of their way. I was therefore
compelled to keep on up the right bank, however difficult the way.
Where a strip of bare boulders lined the margin, the walking was
easy, but where the current swept close along the ragged edge of the
forest, progress was difficult and slow on account of snow-crinkled
and interlaced thickets of alder and willow, reinforced with fallen
trees and thorny devil's-club (Echinopanax horridum), making a jungle
all but impenetrable. The mile of this extravagantly difficult growth
through which I struggled, inch by inch, will not soon be forgotten.
At length arriving within a few hundred yards of the glacier, full of
panax barbs, I found that both the glacier and its unfordable stream
were pressing hard against a shelving cliff, dangerously steep,
leaving no margin, and compelling me to scramble along its face
before I could get on to the glacier.
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