The Stickeen Glaciers 



cloud streamer, and both the streamer and the peak 

 were flushed in the alpenglow. A mile or two above 

 this mountain, on the opposite side of the glacier, 

 there is a rock like the Yosemite Sentinel; and in 

 general all the wall rocks as far as I saw them are more 

 or less yosemitic in form and color and streaked with 

 cascades. 



But wonderful as this noble ice-river is in size and 

 depth and in power displayed, far more wonderful 

 was the vastly greater glacier three or four thousand 

 feet, or perhaps a mile, in depth, whose size and gen- 

 eral history is inscribed on the sides of the walls and 

 over the tops of the rocks in characters which have 

 not yet been greatly dimmed by the weather. Com- 

 paring its present size with that when it was in its 

 prime, is like comparing a small rivulet to the same 

 stream when it is a roaring torrent. 



The return trip to the camp past the shelving cliff 

 and through the weary deviPs-club jungle was made 

 in a few hours. The Indians had gone off picking 

 berries, but were on the watch for me and hailed me 

 as I approached. The captain had called for me, and, 

 after waiting three hours, departed for Wrangell with- 

 out leaving any food, to make sure, I suppose, of a 

 quick return of his Indians and canoe. This was no 

 serious matter, however, for the swift current swept 

 us down to Buck Station, some thirty-five miles dis- 

 tant, by eight o'clock. Here I remained to study the 

 "Big Stickeen Glacier," but the Indians set out for 

 Wrangell soon after supper, though I invited them 

 to stay till morning. 



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