Travels in Alaska 



While thus busily engaged I was startled by a thunder- 

 ing roar across the lake. Running to the top of the 

 moraine, I discovered that the tremendous noise 

 was only the outcry of a newborn berg about fifty or 

 sixty feet in diameter, rocking and wallowing in the 

 waves it had raised as if enjoying its freedom after 

 its long grinding work as part of the glacier. After this 

 fine last lesson I managed to make a small fire out of 

 wet twigs, got a cup of tea, stripped off my dripping 

 clothing, wrapped myself in a blanket and lay brood- 

 ing on the gains of the day and plans for the morrow, 

 glad, rich, and almost comfortable. 



It was raining hard when I awoke, but I made up 

 my mind to disregard the weather, put on my dripping 

 clothing, glad to know it was fresh and clean; ate 

 biscuits and a piece of dried salmon without attempt- 

 ing to make a tea fire; filled a bag with hardtack, 

 slung it over my shoulder, and with my indispensable 

 ice-axe plunged once more into the dripping jungle. I 

 found my bridge holding bravely in place against the 

 swollen torrent, crossed it and beat my way around 

 pools and logs and through two hours of tangle back 

 to the moraine on the north side of the outlet, a 

 wet, weary battle but not without enjoyment. The 

 smell of the washed ground and vegetation made 

 every breath a pleasure, and I found Calypso borealis, 

 the first I had seen on this side of the continent, one 

 of my darlings, worth any amount of hardship; and I 

 saw one of my Douglas squirrels on the margin of a 

 grassy pool. The drip of the rain on the various leaves 

 was pleasant to hear. More especially marked were 



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