the sun shone bright and warm, but a cold wave swept over the glacier. it was the beautiful muir glacier.
we left the steamer in a little boat and were rowed to the shore, landing on the sandy beach. high on the sand lay an indian canoe, a dug-out. near by a party of indians wrapped in their scarlet blankets squatted on the sand. they had come to meet the steamer and sell their toys, baskets and slippers.
a little black eyed boy had a half dozen young seagulls, in a basket, great awkward squabs. their coats were a dirty fuzzy down like that of a gosling, sprinkled over with black dots. their big hungry mouths and frowsy coats gave no hint of the beautiful birds they would be when they grew up.
when i paused to look at the birds their owner regarded me with interest as he sat with the basket hugged to his breast. then the[92] young merchant held one up for my inspection, with the remark, “hees nice bird.”
“yes,” said i, “hees very nice.” i had no thought of buying a seagull. what would i do with it? then i remembered a little invalid boy whom i thought might be pleased with a pet seagull.
“how much you give?” inquired my little indian boy.
“how much will you take?”
“two bits.”
so, i paid down my two bits and picked up my baby seagull. then my little merchant spoke up, “him want basket?”
“yes,” i said, “i think that i want a basket.”
the basket was paid for and my enterprising little indian tucked the baby gull in with a wisp of sea weed and handed him to me with the remark, “him all right now.”
how that gull did squawk when he found himself all alone in a big basket. what cared he that i had purchased for him the prettiest basket on the beach? he wanted his brothers. when we arrived on the deck of the steamer i hurried my gull down to the steward and gained admission for him to the cook’s department,[93] where he was cared for the remainder of the voyage.
is something of a novelty to be seated at the base of a glacier in july. from the chilkoot to the source of the yukon river is only thirty-five miles, but the intervening mountain chain is several thousand feet high and bears numerous glaciers on its seaward side. forty miles west of lynn canal and separated from it by a low range of mountains is glacier bay, and at the head of one of its inlets is the far-famed muir glacier. it is one of the many fields of ice which stellates from a center fifteen miles back of the muir front and covers the valley of the mountains between the pacific and the headwaters of the yukon river. nine glaciers now discharge icebergs into the bay. all of these glaciers have receded from one to four miles in the past twenty years. kate field says, “in switzerland a glacier is a vast bed of dirty air-holed ice that has fastened itself like a cold porous plaster to the alps. in alaska a glacier is a wonderful torrent that seems to have been frozen when about to plunge into the sea.” there they lay, almost free from debris, clear and gleaming in the cold sunshine of alaska. the most beautiful of them all is the[94] muir glacier. it is named in honor of john muir, who visited alaska in company with mr. young, the presbyterian missionary, in 1879, and discovered it. this glacier extends straight across the fiord, presenting at tide water a perpendicular wall two hundred to four hundred feet above and seven hundred and fifty feet below the surface, making a solid wall of ice a thousand feet high and three miles wide.
i cannot do better than to give prof. muir’s own description of this wonderful mer de glace: “the front and brow of the glacier were dashed and sculptured into a maze of yawning chasms, ravines, cañons, crevasses, and a bewildering chaos of architectural forms, beautiful beyond description, and so bewildering in their beauty as to almost make the spectator believe he is reveling in a dream. there were great clusters of glistening spires, gables, obelisks, monoliths, and castles, standing out boldly against the sky, with bastion and mural surmounted by fretted cornice and every interstice and chasm reflecting a sheen of scintillating light and deep blue shadow, making a combination of color, dazzling, startling and enchanting.”
this is nature’s iceberg factory. the “calving” of a berg is a wonderful sight and one never to be forgotten. avalanches and great blocks of crumbling ice are continually falling with a crash and roar into the sea, while spray dashes high and great waves roll along the wall of the glacier, washing the blocks of floating ice upon the sandy beach on either side of the great ice-wall. the great buttresses on either side as they rise from the sea are solid white, veined and streaked with mud and rocks, but farther in near the middle of the wall the color changes to turquoise and sapphire blues, blended with the changeable greens of the sea.
the upper strata of a glacier moves faster than the lower and is constantly being pushed forward, producing a perpendicular and at times projecting front. a piece of the projecting front breaks off and falls with a heavy splash into the water, then up it comes almost white. now a piece breaks from the lower and older strata and comes up a dazzling green. again a deafening roar as of artillery and a huge piece of ice splits off from top to bottom of the sea wall and goes plunging and raving like a great lion to the bottom of the sea, then up it comes slowly, a berg of dazzling rainbow hues. such a one, as big as all the business houses in a village, floated toward the beach and the outgoing[96] tide left it stranded there. we ate a piece of it, ice thousands of years old, and drank water from a cup or pocket in its side.
the beach is strewn with rock, pebbles and bowlders carved by the icy hand of the glacier. along the beach near the glacier, just above high tide, in the rocks and sand grow lagoon grass, laurel and beautiful clarkias. these brilliant purple flowers are named for prof. clarke, who first studied and classified them. they are sweet scented and belong to the evening primrose family.
the tlingit indians believe that mountains were once living creatures and that the glaciers are their children. these parents hold them in their arms, dip their feet into the sea, then cover them with snow in the winter and scatter rocks and sand over them in summer. these indians dread the cold and always speak the name sith, the ice god, in a whisper. they have no fear of a hades such as ours. to them hell is a place of everlasting cold. the chill of the ice god’s breath is death. he freezes rivers into glaciers and when angry heaves down the bergs and crushes canoes. when summer comes the ice spirit sleeps, but the indians speak in whispers and never touch the icebergs with their canoe paddles for fear of awaking him.
once upon a time glaciers plowed over illinois. manitoba and hudson bay were then great snow and ice fields, down from which swept the glaciers over the united states south to the ohio river. great rocks and bowlders were carried along and deposited here and there on the broad prairies. many of these rocks and bowlders may still be seen in central illinois, still bearing the marks of the glacial slide.
an odd old character in our neighborhood used to tell us children that those big flattened bowlders were left there for the good people to stand on when the world should be burned up. “would they get hot?” we asked. “oh, how could they when they had lain years in the heart of a glacier?” to all of our questions as to how he knew he always turned a deaf ear.
our sailors rowed out and with ropes captured an iceberg which they said would weigh five tons and with rope and tackle hauled it aboard and put it down in the hold. then they captured a second one not quite so large and after it was safely stored away we weighed anchor and steamed out of the beautiful bay, afloat with icebergs, many of them being larger above water than our ship. but one disappointment met me, not a polar bear was in sight.
a nunatak is an area of fertile land surrounded by ice. one of the finest on the alaskan coast is blossom island. it is quite a large tract of rich land covered with forest and brilliant flowers.
when mr. young (before mentioned) was missionary to the hoonah indians they appealed to him to pray to god to keep the glaciers from cutting down the trees on the bays putting into cross sound. they said their medicine man had advised them to offer as a sacrifice two of their slaves to the ice god, but this they had done without any effect. they were greatly disappointed when mr. young told them that he could do nothing to prevent the glaciers destroying their forests.
is something of a novelty to be seated at the base of a glacier in july. from the chilkoot to the source of the yukon river is only thirty-five miles, but the intervening mountain chain is several thousand feet high and bears numerous glaciers on its seaward side. forty miles west of lynn canal and separated from it by a low range of mountains is glacier bay, and at the head of one of its inlets is the far-famed muir glacier. it is one of the many fields of ice which stellates from a center fifteen miles back of the muir front and covers the valley of the mountains between the pacific and the headwaters of the yukon river. nine glaciers now discharge icebergs into the bay. all of these glaciers have receded from one to four miles in the past twenty years. kate field says, “in switzerland a glacier is a vast bed of dirty air-holed ice that has fastened itself like a cold porous plaster to the alps. in alaska a glacier is a wonderful torrent that seems to have been frozen when about to plunge into the sea.” there they lay, almost free from debris, clear and gleaming in the cold sunshine of alaska. the most beautiful of them all is the[94] muir glacier. it is named in honor of john muir, who visited alaska in company with mr. young, the presbyterian missionary, in 1879, and discovered it. this glacier extends straight across the fiord, presenting at tide water a perpendicular wall two hundred to four hundred feet above and seven hundred and fifty feet below the surface, making a solid wall of ice a thousand feet high and three miles wide.
i cannot do better than to give prof. muir’s own description of this wonderful mer de glace: “the front and brow of the glacier were dashed and sculptured into a maze of yawning chasms, ravines, cañons, crevasses, and a bewildering chaos of architectural forms, beautiful beyond description, and so bewildering in their beauty as to almost make the spectator believe he is reveling in a dream. there were great clusters of glistening spires, gables, obelisks, monoliths, and castles, standing out boldly against the sky, with bastion and mural surmounted by fretted cornice and every interstice and chasm reflecting a sheen of scintillating light and deep blue shadow, making a combination of color, dazzling, startling and enchanting.”
this is nature’s iceberg factory. the “calving” of a berg is a wonderful sight and one never to be forgotten. avalanches and great blocks of crumbling ice are continually falling with a crash and roar into the sea, while spray dashes high and great waves roll along the wall of the glacier, washing the blocks of floating ice upon the sandy beach on either side of the great ice-wall. the great buttresses on either side as they rise from the sea are solid white, veined and streaked with mud and rocks, but farther in near the middle of the wall the color changes to turquoise and sapphire blues, blended with the changeable greens of the sea.
the upper strata of a glacier moves faster than the lower and is constantly being pushed forward, producing a perpendicular and at times projecting front. a piece of the projecting front breaks off and falls with a heavy splash into the water, then up it comes almost white. now a piece breaks from the lower and older strata and comes up a dazzling green. again a deafening roar as of artillery and a huge piece of ice splits off from top to bottom of the sea wall and goes plunging and raving like a great lion to the bottom of the sea, then up it comes slowly, a berg of dazzling rainbow hues. such a one, as big as all the business houses in a village, floated toward the beach and the outgoing tide left it stranded there. we ate a piece of it, ice thousands of years old, and drank water from a cup or pocket in its side.
the beach is strewn with rock, pebbles and bowlders carved by the icy hand of the glacier. along the beach near the glacier, just above high tide, in the rocks and sand grow lagoon grass, laurel and beautiful clarkias. these brilliant purple flowers are named for prof. clarke, who first studied and classified them. they are sweet scented and belong to the evening primrose family.
the tlingit indians believe that mountains were once living creatures and that the glaciers are their children. these parents hold them in their arms, dip their feet into the sea, then cover them with snow in the winter and scatter rocks and sand over them in summer. these indians dread the cold and always speak the name sith, the ice god, in a whisper. they have no fear of a hades such as ours. to them hell is a place of everlasting cold. the chill of the ice god’s breath is death. he freezes rivers into glaciers and when angry heaves down the bergs and crushes canoes. when summer comes the ice spirit sleeps, but the indians speak in whispers and never touch the icebergs with their canoe paddles for fear of awaking him.
once upon a time glaciers plowed over illinois. manitoba and hudson bay were then great snow and ice fields, down from which swept the glaciers over the united states south to the ohio river. great rocks and bowlders were carried along and deposited here and there on the broad prairies. many of these rocks and bowlders may still be seen in central illinois, still bearing the marks of the glacial slide.
an odd old character in our neighborhood used to tell us children that those big flattened bowlders were left there for the good people to stand on when the world should be burned up. “would they get hot?” we asked. “oh, how could they when they had lain years in the heart of a glacier?” to all of our questions as to how he knew he always turned a deaf ear.
our sailors rowed out and with ropes captured an iceberg which they said would weigh five tons and with rope and tackle hauled it aboard and put it down in the hold. then they captured a second one not quite so large and after it was safely stored away we weighed anchor and steamed out of the beautiful bay, afloat with icebergs, many of them being larger above water than our ship. but one disappointment met me, not a polar bear was in sight.
a nunatak is an area of fertile land surrounded by ice. one of the finest on the alaskan coast is blossom island. it is quite a large tract of rich land covered with forest and brilliant flowers.
when mr. young (before mentioned) was missionary to the hoonah indians they appealed to him to pray to god to keep the glaciers from cutting down the trees on the bays putting into cross sound. they said their medicine man had advised them to offer as a sacrifice two of their slaves to the ice god, but this they had done without any effect. they were greatly disappointed when mr. young told them that he could do nothing to prevent the glaciers destroying their forests.
these indians, the kootznahoos, claim to have come from over the seas. they deny any relation with the tlingits. they were the first indians to distill hoochinoo, which carries more fight and warwhoop to the drop than any other liquor known. it is made from a mash of yeast and molasses, thickened with a little flour. they were great fighters and murdered the traders as soon as the russians left. in 1869 commander mead shelled the village and took kitchnatti prisoner. he was taken to mare island, california, and confined for a year. the tribe now numbers only five hundred souls. they are a peaceable people and follow fishing for a livelihood. many of them are employed in the fish factory on the island. kitchnatti is still the recognized chief, and is very proud of his position. he meets all the steamers coming in and is delighted to meet the officers of the vessels, all of whom are kind to him. he is quite vain in his dress, wearing a silk hat, long coat, black pantaloons and slippers. he also sports a cane, which is a sheathed sword. he claims descent from ancestry as old as “yonder granite mountain” which stands across the strait. his state dress consists of a crown made of goat horns and a tunic made of red felt trimmed with fur. over his door he has posted his escutcheon, which some one has translated for him into english. it reads, “by the governor’s permission and the company’s commission i am made the grand tyhee of this entire illabee.”
on a green slope stands a greek church, established by the russian government. the priest lives in a tiny cottage next door.
at the wharf a dozen little indian boys, dressed in sweaters and overalls, displayed much energy and skill in helping to unload the freight which was landed at this point. the first officer gave them fifty cents apiece when the work was completed and away they went to spend it, american boy like, at the candy store.
one of the most interesting things that i saw in the village was a little papoose taking his bath in a big dishpan on the front veranda. he did not like it at all and kicked and screamed but his mother without a word proceeded with the bathing.
just off killisnoo the steamer anchored several hours to give the passengers an opportunity to try deep-sea fishing. some fine halibut were brought aboard. then we weighed anchor and steamed toward the old town of sitka. this ancient capital of the romanoffs is the seat of the territorial government of alaska. a strong effort is being made by the mining interest of juneau to move it to that point.
