52 Our North Land. 



heather, or bog, or stunted vegetation of some kind, relieved the 

 dullness of their uniform colour. Higher up near the clouds on the 

 great precipices, we could see, here and there, a rough, broken 

 garment of moss, the growth, probably, of a thousand years. The 

 summits were capped with perpetual snow in many places, that 

 sparkled and glowed in the morning sun, as its rays broke through 

 the parting clouds, like crowns of glory. The prospect was strange 

 and wild — strange in the angularity of the steep declivities, bold, 

 rugged, barren and desolate, yet, altogether, as one passes within 

 the entrance, combining to inspire a sense of security. 



From this entrance to the Hudson's Bay Company's Post at 

 Nachvak, the distance is about twenty miles, and the wonderful 

 channel leading thereto, from a half to two miles wide, winding and 

 very picturesque in its course. We were in this curious inlet most 

 of the day, or from eleven o'clock until early evening, before we 

 cast anchor before the lonely buildings of the post. The whole 

 distance is a succession of most impressive natural scenery. On 

 either side the rocks lift their snow-covered heads almost perpen- 

 dicularly for more than a thousand feet above the water, and in 

 many places nearly two thousand feet, and are moulded in such a 

 variety of shapes, ranges, peaks, precipices, terraces, shelves, ravines, 

 ledges, etc., as to daze the wondering admirer. 



On the one hand we were alike delighted and awed by a dashing, 

 foaming, roaring torrent, tumbling down at an angle of 45°, storm- 

 ing against the rocks, turning in sharp curves, throwing its foam 

 high in the air, and falling from ledge to ledge, or dashing in mad- 

 dened fury from some lofty cliff to a lower range, hiding the spot 

 from view by filling the space with white mist or spray ; while on the 

 other our deepest admiration was called into expressions of wonder 

 and praise by smaller rivulets hanging down, as it were, from the 

 higher rocks, like beautiful white silken cords, pouring their waters 

 into the blue abyss at the feet of these eternal hills, one or two 

 thousand feet below their source. A day in this spot was but an hour ; 

 nor could we have grown weary of the scenery in a whole week. 



Our stay at Nachvak was during the night only. We left with 

 the first light of the following day. At the post there are but three 



