Travels in Alaska 



up the side of it to northward, eagerly hoping that I 

 could get around its head, but my worst fears were 

 realized when at a distance of about a mile or less it 

 ran into the crevasse that I had just jumped. I then 

 ran down the edge for a mile or more below the point 

 where I had first met it, and found that its lower end 

 also united with the crevasse I had jumped, showing 

 dismally that we were on an island two or three hun- 

 dred yards wide and about two miles long and the 

 only way of escape from this island was by turning 

 back and jumping again that crevasse which I 

 dreaded, or venturing ahead across the giant cre- 

 vasse by the very worst of the sliver bridges I had ever 

 seen. It was so badly weathered and melted down 

 that it formed a knife-edge, and extended across from 

 side to side in a low, drooping curve like that made 

 by a loose rope attached at each end at the same 

 height. But the worst difficulty was that the ends of 

 the down-curving sliver were attached to the sides 

 at a depth of about eight or ten feet below the surface 

 of the glacier. Getting down to the end of the bridge, 

 and then after crossing it getting up the other side, 

 seemed hardly possible. However, I decided to dare 

 the dangers of the fearful sliver rather than to attempt 

 to retrace my steps. Accordingly I dug a low groove 

 in the rounded edge for my knees to rest in and, lean- 

 ing over, began to cut a narrow foothold on the steep, 

 smooth side. When I was doing this, Stickeen came 

 up behind me, pushed his head over my shoulder, 

 looked into the crevasses and along the narrow knife- 

 edge, then turned and looked in my face, muttering 



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