THE FOREST.
At the landing, the Indians set about to prepare us breakfast of hot no-cake and coffee. The coffee is from burned wild rice, and the no-cake corresponds to our corn bread. They pound the dry corn in a mortar with a pestle and make and fry them. The guide and I filled up on about ten cakes and a quart of coffee each, but Archibald refused, whispering to me that the dishes smelled of bear's oil; besides, the excitement had taken away his appetite.
Archibald then said: "That old Indian says they live here mostly on fish and bear. Really, do you think those bears are of the savage kind?"
"Oh, no," I replied, "only when they have cubs, but they say this is just cubbing time."
Mendenthall Valley is about ten or twelve miles west of Juneau, lies between two precipitous mountain ranges over 2,000 feet high. The timber, brook and soil give evidence of great age, and no indications appear to cause one to think it is a grown-up pathway of a glacier. After entering the woods we could see nothing ahead, only timber, except at intervals an opening, which gave us a view of the mountains on either side, as we followed the brook, which led us in a zigzag course.
When several miles in we discovered unmistakable evidence of where some large animal had fled at our approach, but we saw nothing but owls, eagles and other small game. I was urging the guide to hurry up, while Archibald was grumbling because we were going so fast, saying he was faint and hungry, so we stopped for lunch, and Archibald was glad to eat the no-cake, which he refused when it was hot.
The foliage was remarkable for its large leaves. Wild berries were in abundance, and the trees appeared to be of great age, which caused me to remark that it seemed incredible that, where we were sitting, the ice was more than two hundred feet above our heads not so very long ago.
"Not so very long? Do you believe that yourself, Mr. Richardson?"
"Certainly I do. Once this valley was a basin of ice. Have you not studied geology, Archibald?"
"I have, sir, and I never learned that a glacier could ever thrive in such a d—d hot hole as this. Say, Richardson, were you living in the Glacial Period?"
"Which one?"
"Was there more than one?"
"Yes, sir."
"Were you living in the last one?"
"Yes, sir."
"Hear that, guide, Richardson says he was living in the Glacial Period, which was more than 40,000 years ago, and he does not look to be more than two or three hundred years old. Will you explain, Mr. R.?"
"Oh, yes, the Glacial Period is now on at the poles—long ago it was on in this valley and still longer ago it was down in the states. Do you not know that our world is slowly revolving in the direction we call south? That is God's wise plan to give each part of the earth rest. Tropical animals once lived here and in Siberia.
"Who told you all that stuff?"
"Geology, sir; the same book which you have been studying. By the way, did you ever learn about the Neanderthal man whose skull was found in a cave in the Neanderthal Valley, with the bones of a bear? The man must have lived contemporary with Adam, and it seems that the bear——"
"Were the bones of that man and bear found in this place?"
"No! No! Do not get excited."
"But you said they were found in Mendenthal Valley."
"I said Neanderthal, where a prehistoric race once lived, but really where the bones were found closely resembles this place as well as the name, for I have been there. It is in Prussia. Now let me illustrate by our presence here, what may once have occured in the Neanderthal Valley. Suppose one of those ferocious she-bears should come spat upon us now and the guide and I should escape, while she dragged your mangled corpse——"
"Bah-aa-aa," roared the guide.
"What are you laughing at, you great fool?" said Archibald.
"Laughing to see your eyes bulge out."
"Please do not speak that way to Mr. Archibald," I said, "he knows we're in no danger, so long as there's plenty of trees to climb."
ARTHUR, CHARLIE NEWELL, MRS. OLIVER AND FRIENDS.
"Your business, sir," said Archibald to the guide, "is to take us to the glacier and the quicker the better. Neither Mr. Richardson or myself care to roost in these trees over night."
"Twon't be sundown till nigh midnight," grunted the guide, and we all started on.
I was following close on the heels of the guide as we entered an opening, when we all stopped and gazed in astonishment at a dead glacier. Two miles or so away stretched across the valley stood a perpendicular wall of glistening ice, about 250 feet high and four miles long, reaching across the entire valley.
To view a glacier fifty or more miles wide, as I found at the foot of Mt. St. Elias, winding its way high up into the mountain, where the snow drifts whirl blindly all the summer day, where no plant or animal abide, seems to be in keeping with the surroundings, but to emerge from a dense thicket, a valley teeming with animal and vegetable life, on a hot summer day and fall spat upon a dead glacier is a sight which must be seen to be realized—then to know that this vast field of ice once extended to the sea, but so long ago that thousands of acres of timber have grown up in its retreating pathway, is enough to astound any but the simple.
I was lost in thought and pondered thus: In time this ice mountain will waste away to its fountain head and a peaceful river will flow down this warm valley, where the inhabitants on either side of the river will be as unable to realize the truth concerning the cold bed-fellow that once slept in this Alaskan cradle, as we are unable to comprehend the fact that there is not a spire in Chicago high enough to have shown its tip above the ice that once lay over that city during the Great Lakes' Glacial Period.
The earth between us and the glacier was carpeted with the most beautiful moss imaginable, all shades and colors, caused by reflection of the sun from the crystal ice. A solemn silence prevailed, such as I never experienced elsewhere, broken at intervals by reports like cannons, occasioned by huge mountains of ice cleaving off to melt in the sun.
In climbing the mountain side to get upon the glacier, I found ripe strawberries within a few feet of the ice, and upon the glacier small streams of water, which did not seem to melt the ice. Like all glaciers, there were great boulders upon it, which had plunged down from some far away mountain and were taking a slow cold ride. I jumped across crevices, where if one should fall in he might go down 100 feet, there to wedge in and freeze. Standing in front of this terrible monster a cool strange halo seems to surround, which is far more awe-inspiring than that of the Niagara Falls.
On descending from the glacier we found Archibald in a state of agitation, as a thunder storm was approaching and all the protection we possessed was straw hats. My laughing aroused his ire and he used some very undignified language, as the rain began coming down in torrents, accompanied by a strange rattling sound, which seemed to be from overhead. Looking up we could see that several immense rocks from high up the mountain had become dislodged and had started down a deep ravine with such force as to break others from their moorings, which also joined in the mad run, roll, slip, slide, plunge. The impetus was so great and the resistance so strong that when the great boulders met they flashed fire until the entire valley of racing rocks, trees and earth seemed to be enveloped in a blue flame, which formed into a slide, sweeping everything in its path, until it brought up on the plain below with a slump.
On examination we found that the immense quantity of debris covered nearly half an acre and was more than fifty feet deep. That it had swept everything in its path, including trees more than a foot in diameter, which were broken up like matches. I told Archibald that whoever got caught in the descent of such a mountain slide would probably remain as deposit until Gabriel blew his horn, to which he grunted assent.
As I lingered upon the scene declaring that few people in the world had ever seen such a wonderful sight, he solemnly vowed that he saw nothing peculiar about that rock and mud different from what he could find in the road anywhere.
Wet to the skin, tired and hungry, we started on, Archibald wholly unprepared for the skirmish awaiting him. It soon cleared up, but every bush we stumbled against showered down and gave us a fresh bath. My shoes hurt my feet, and especially my game toe, which sometimes cramps, took advantage of the situation and, oh, how it did hurt, but I did not mention it, for fear Archibald would say I did not enjoy roughing it any more than he did, and so we plodded on, anxious to reach the landing where I knew the Indians would give us the best they had.