"Travels in Alaska 



We will eat to-morrow, but we can find some bread 

 for you if you want it." 



"No," I said, "go to rest. I, too, will sleep now and 

 eat to-morrow." Nothing was attempted in the way 

 of light or fire. Camping that night was simply lying 

 down. The boulders seemed to make a fair bed after 

 finding the best place to take their pressure. 



During the night I was awakened by the beating of 

 the spent ends of berg-waves against the side of my 

 tent, though I had fancied myself well beyond their 

 reach. These special waves are not raised by wind or 

 tide, but by the fall of large bergs from the snout of 

 the glacier, or sometimes by the overturning or break- 

 ing of large bergs that may have long floated in 

 perfect poise. The highest berg-waves oftentimes 

 travel half a dozen miles or farther before they are 

 much spent, producing a singularly impressive up- 

 roar in the far recesses of the mountains on calm dark 

 nights when all beside is still. Far and near they tell 

 the news that a berg is born, repeating their story 

 again and again, compelling attention and reminding 

 us of earthquake-waves that roll on for thousands of 

 miles, taking their story from continent to continent. 



When the Indians came ashore in the morning and 

 saw the condition of my tent they laughed heartily 

 and said, "Your friend [meaning the big glacier] sent 

 you a good word last night, and his servant knocked 

 at your tent and said, 'Sagh-a-ya, are you sleeping 

 well.?'" 



I had fasted too long to be in very good order for 

 hard work, but while the Indians were cooking, I made, 



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