From Taku River to Taylor Bay 



roaring as I had never heard wind roar before. Over 

 the icy levels and over the woods, on the mountains, 

 over the jagged rocks and spires and chasms of the 

 glacier it boomed and moaned and roared, filling the 

 fiord in even, gray, structureless gloom, inspiring and 

 awful. I first struggled up in the face of the blast to 

 the east end of the ice-wall, where a patch of forest 

 had been carried away by the glacier when it was ad- 

 vancing. I noticed a few stumps well out on the 

 moraine flat, showing that its present bare, raw con- 

 dition was not the condition of fifty or a hundred 

 years ago. In front of this part of the glacier there is 

 a small moraine lake about half a mile in length, 

 around the margin of which are a considerable num- 

 ber of trees standing knee-deep, and of course dead. 

 This also is a result of the recent advance of the 

 ice. 



Pushing up through the ragged edge of the woods 

 on the left margin of the glacier, the storm seemed to 

 increase in violence, so that it was difficult to draw 

 breath in facing it; therefore I took shelter back of a 

 tree to enjoy it and wait, hoping that it would at last 

 somewhat abate. Here the glacier, descending over 

 an abrupt rock, falls forward in grand cascades, while 

 a stream swollen by the rain was now a torrent, — 

 wind, rain, ice-torrent, and water-torrent in one grand 

 symphony. 



At length the storm seemed to abate somewhat, and 

 I took off my heavy rubber boots, with which I had 

 waded the glacial streams on the flat, and laid them 

 with my overcoat on a log, where I might find them 



[ 247 1 



