Sum Dum Bay 



oars in exact time with hearty good will as we glided 

 past island after island across the delta of the Stickeen 

 into Soutchoi Channel. 



By noon we came in sight of a fleet of icebergs from 

 Hutli Bay. The Indian name of this icy fiord is Hutli, 

 or Thunder Bay, from the sound made by the bergs 

 in falling and rising from the front of the inflowing 

 glacier. 



As we floated happily on over the shining waters, 

 the beautiful islands, in ever-changing pictures, were 

 an unfailing source of enjoyment; but chiefly our 

 attention was turned upon the mountains. Bold 

 granite headlands with their feet in the channel, or 

 some broad-shouldered peak of surpassing grandeur, 

 would fix the eye, or some one of the larger glaciers, 

 with far-reaching tributaries clasping entire groups of 

 peaks and its great crystal river pouring down through 

 the forest between gray ridges and domes. In these 

 grand picture lessons the day was spent, and we 

 spread our blankets beneath a Menzies spruce on 

 moss two feet deep. 



Next morning we sailed around an outcurving bank 

 of boulders and sand ten miles long, the terminal 

 moraine of a grand old glacier on which last No- 

 vember we met a perilous adventure. It is located 

 just opposite three large converging glaciers which 

 formerly united to form the vanished trunk of the 

 glacier to which the submerged moraine belonged. A 

 few centuries ago it must have been the grandest 

 feature of this part of the coast, and, so well pre- 

 served are the monuments of its greatness, the noble 



[ 209 ] 



