SMOKE FROM OUR CAMP FIRE. 



2 35 



could go no farther and we were compelled 

 to .stay there on the ice all night. It could 

 hardly be called camping, for we had 

 neither fire nor shelter. 



Some of the men said they were going to 

 sleep as quickly as possible. The old pros- 

 pectors who were with us, winked at one 

 another and said, " Yes, they will sleep a 

 lot." The men hunted for depressions in 

 the ice which were filled with snow, because 

 the snow was a little softer than the ice and 

 not quite so cold. We ate some crackers 

 and some raw salt pork. Then the men be- 

 gan creeping into their sleeping bags; but 

 within an hour they began to creep out 

 again and to swear like pirates about how 

 cold that ice was. 



It is safe to say no man in the outfit slept 

 a wink that night. Darkness came on about 

 9 o'clock and it began to grow light again 

 about 3. As soon as the first streaks of day 

 appeared we put on our packs and pulled 

 out. We had gone but a short distance 

 when we encountered another great cre- 

 vasse. I wandered up and down it some 

 distance, looking for a snow arch and fi- 

 nally found one. I started out on it, feel- 

 ing it with my alpine stick at every step to 

 ascertain whether it would hold me. When 

 I got half way across I saw a dark object in 

 front of me. I took it to be one of my 

 men and called; but received no answer. 

 Then I went up to it and discovered it was 

 a hole through the bridge, and that I was 

 looking down into a chasm that was at least 

 1,800 feet deep. My heart stopped beating 

 and my hair stood straight up. Still I knew 

 we must cross at any price. I went on to 

 the other wall and then returned for my 

 men. One by one we led the horses over; 

 leaving until the last the only animal in the 

 outfit I thought might make us trouble when 

 he saw the hole. This was a big black mule. 

 After the last man crossed we pulled on his 

 rope and he started over. When he came 

 to this hole, he bucked sure enough, and the 

 result may be easily imagined. The bridge 

 went to pieces and the mule went to the bot- 

 tom of the crevasse. His bones will doubt- 

 less appear on the coast, in the course of 

 2,000 years, when some future scientific 

 sharp will find him and write him up as an 

 extinct mammal. 



I had to make an affidavit of this loss 

 and send it to Washington, in order to 

 avoid being charged for the mule. In this 

 affidavit I stated that the last I saw of the 

 mule his heels were mingled with the rem- 

 nants of the bridge and that all were going 

 down together, into the utter darkness. 



About 3 o'clock that afternoon we 

 reached a point where the ice sloped off in 

 the direction we were going. At the same 

 time the dense fog, through which we were 

 traveling all day, lifted for a moment and 

 away below us — 2 or 3 miles almost straight 

 down — we could see a beautiful valley with 

 green grass, green trees and running water. 



We knew we had crossed the summit and 

 that the land of summer was at our feet. 

 We were so overcome with the knowledge 

 of being even in sight of the earth, and of 

 safety once more, that we sank down on the 

 ice and lay there for 2 or 3 hours. Then we 

 got the outfit together again and moved on 

 through the fog. That night we camped 

 among trees and had a great camp fire of 

 dry cedar logs. We had the first hot tea 

 and the first cooked food we had tasted in 

 48 hours.. 



Only men who have crossed or battled 

 with an Alaskan glacier can have the faint- 

 est conception of the hardships our men 

 were compelled to endure and the miracu- 

 lous manner in which they met and con- 

 quered every obstacle. 



We traveled several days through 

 swamps, morasses, forests, up and down 

 precipices, fording mountain streams, much 

 of the time groping through dense fogs, but 

 all the time keeping our course and trian- 

 gulating our lines from base to objective 

 point. 



One day after climbing, wading and dig- 

 ging our way through one of these terrible 

 jungles for a mile or more, we suddenly 

 emerged at the foot of another glacier. The 

 wall was at least 600 feet high and nearly 

 perpendicular. From beneath this flowed a 

 river 200 feet wide and of unknown depth. 

 It was white with foam from shore to shore 

 and was traveling at a rate of 15 miles an 

 hour over slimy bowlders of varying sizes. 

 After looking at it a few minutes I turned 

 to the old prospector who was acting as 

 guide for us and said, " Corliss, do you 

 think we can cross it? " 



He looked at me in a pitiful sort of way 



and said, " Cap, couldn't cross that 



river if he wanted to." 



I said, " Well, we must cross it all the 

 same." 



The old man seemed too much overcome 

 with contempt for my ignorance to reply, 

 and turned away. I got on my horse and 

 started into the stream. Have you ever 

 been on one of these mountain torrents and 

 heard the great bowlders being driven down 

 it by the force of waters? Well, as I sat on 

 my horse I could hear them all around, 

 making that terrible " chug," " chug " 

 sound, and you bet it made me shiver. My 

 horse went all right until the water came up 

 to his sides. Then the current caught him 

 and commenced to force him down. Finally 

 one of these great bowlders came along and 

 knocked him off his feet, jammed my leg 

 badly, and we started down the stream, 

 turning over and over. I had as good a 

 chance as the horse had, however, for I was 

 on top at least half the time. I hung on by 

 the pommel of the saddle and tried to get on 

 my feet, but that was impossible. Finally, 

 after going some distance down the river 

 we were driven up on a big rock, and in 

 landing my right hand was badly bruised. 



