In Camp at Glacier Bay 



out stakes to measure the glacial flow. The top of 

 Mt. Fairweather is in sight at a distance of perhaps 

 thirty miles, the ice all smooth on the eastern border, 

 wildly broken in the central portion. I reached the 

 ship at 2.30 P.M. I had intended getting back at noon 

 and sending letters and bidding friends good-bye, but 

 could not resist this glacier saunter. The ship moved 

 off as soon as I was seen on the moraine bluff, and 

 Loomis and I waved our hats in farewell to the many 

 wavings of handkerchiefs of acquaintances we had 

 made on the trip. 



Our goods blankets, provisions, tent, etc. lay 

 in a rocky moraine hollow within a mile of the great 

 terminal wall of the glacier, and the discharge of 

 the rising and falling icebergs kept up an almost con- 

 tinuous thundering and echoing, while a few gulls flew 

 about on easy wing or stood like specks of foam on 

 the shore. These were our neighbors. 



After my twelve-mile walk, I ate a cracker and 

 planned the camp. I found that one of my boxes had 

 been left on the steamer, but still we have more than 

 enough of everything. We obtained two cords of dry 

 wood at Juneau which Captain Carroll kindly had 

 his men carry up the moraine to our camp-ground. 

 We piled the wood as a wind-break, then laid a floor 

 of lumber brought from Seattle for a square tent, 

 nine feet by nine. We set the tent, stored our pro- 

 visions in it, and made our beds. This work was done 

 by 11.30 P.M., good daylight lasting to this time. We 

 slept well in our roomy cotton house, dreaming of 

 California home nests in the wilderness of ice. 



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