94 
THROUGH WONDERLAND. 
and its sides are furrowed with glaciers, one of which is the ice-wall before our 
eyes, and which is generally known as the La Perouse Glacier. The highest peak 
of all, and on the left of this noble range, is Mount Crillon, named by La Perouse, 
in 1786, after the French Minister of the Marine ; while between Crillon and La 
Perouse is Mount D’Agelet, the astronomer of that celebrated expedition. Crillon 
cleaves the air for 16,000 feet above the sea on which we rest, and can be seen for 
over a hundred miles to sea. It, too, is surrounded with glaciers, in all directions 
from its crown. Crillon and La Perouse are about seven miles apart, nearly north 
and south of each other. About fifteen miles northwest from Crillon is Lituya 
Peak, 10,000 feet high ; and the little bay opening that we pass, between the two, is 
the entrance to Lituya Bay, a sheet of water which La Perouse has pronounced 
as one of the most extraordinary in the world for grand scenery, with its glaciers 
and Alpine shores. Our steamer will not enter, however; for the passage is dan¬ 
gerous to even small boats,—one island bearing a monument to the officers and 
men of La Perouse’s expedition, lost in the tidal wave which sweeps through 
the contracted passage like a breaker over a treacherous bar. Some ten or 
twelve miles northwest from Lituya Peak is Mount Fairweather, which 
bears abreast us after a little over an hour’s run from Lituya Bay. It was 
named by Cook in 1778, and is generally considered to be a few hundred feet 
shorter than Mount Crillon. It is in every way, by its peculiar isolation from 
near ridges almost as high as itself, a much grander peak than Crillon, whose 
surroundings are not so good for a fine Alpine display. Fairweather, too, 
has its frozen rivers flowing down its sides; but none of them reach the sea, for 
a low, wooded country, some three or four miles in width, lies like a glacis 
at the seaward side of the St. Elias Alps, for a short distance along this 
part of the coast. The sombre, deep green forests add an impressive feature 
to the scene, however, lying between the dancing waves below and the white 
and blue glacier ice above. Rounding Cape Fairweather, the coast trends 
northward; and, as our bowsprit is pointed in the same direction, directly 
before us are seen immense glaciers reaching to the sea. From Cape Fair- 
weather (abreast of Mount Fairweather) to Yakutat Bay (abreast of Mount 
Vancouver), no conspicuous peak rears its head above the grand mountain 
chain which for nearly a hundred miles lies between these two Alpine bas¬ 
tions; but nevertheless every hour reveals a new mountain of 5,000 to 8,000 feet 
in height, which, if placed anywhere else, would be held up with national or 
State pride as a grand acquisition. Here they are only dwarfed by grander 
peaks. The glacier which we are approaching from Cape Fairweather was 
named, by La Perouse, La Grande Plateau. It is a very low lying glacier, its 
grade as it fades away inland being very slight, more like a frozen river 
than the precipitous masses of ice which we have been used to seeing. Lit¬ 
tle is known of it, beyond the seaward aspect.; but it is probably the larg¬ 
est glacier in Alaska, and the largest in the w 7 orld, south of the polar regions 
themselves. 
Wherever these glaciers reach the sea, or connect with it by draining 
