"The Discovery of Glacier Bay 



said he liked to travel with good-luck people; and 

 dignified old Toyatte declared that now his heart was 

 strong again, and he would venture on with me as far 

 as I liked for my "wawa" was "delait" (my talk was 

 very good). The old warrior even became a little 

 sentimental, and said that even if the canoe was 

 broken he would not greatly care, because on the way 

 to the other world he would have good companions. 



Next morning it was still raining and snowing, but 

 the south wind swept us bravely forward and swept 

 the bergs from our course. In about an hour we 

 reached the second of the big glaciers, which I after- 

 wards named for Hugh Miller. We rowed up its fiord 

 and landed to make a slight examination of its grand 

 frontal wall. The berg-producing portion we found 

 to be about a mile and a half wide, and broken into 

 an imposing array of jagged spires and pyramids, and 

 flat-topped towers and battlements, of many shades 

 of blue, from pale, shimmering, limpid tones in the 

 crevasses and hollows, to the most startling, chilling, 

 almost shrieking vitriol blue on the plain mural spaces 

 from which bergs had just been discharged. Back 

 from the front for a few miles the glacier rises in a 

 series of wide steps, as if this portion of the glacier 

 had sunk in successive sections as it reached deep 

 water, and the sea had found its way beneath it. Be- 

 yond this it extends indefinitely in a gently rising 

 prairie-like expanse, and branches along the slopes 

 and canons of the Fairweather Range. 



From here a run of two hours brought us to the head 

 of the bay, and to the mouth of the northwest fiord, 



[ 147] 



