“Is that a glacier?” said Saxe, after gazing at it for a few minutes.
“Yes, lad, that’s a glacier, and a better example than one generally sees, because it is so particularly clean. Glaciers are generally pretty old and dirty-looking in the lower parts.”
The guide rested upon his ice-axe, with his eyes half-closed, apparently watching the effect the glacier had upon the visitors; Dale gazed at it contemplatively, as if it were the wrinkled face of an old friend; and Saxe stared wonderingly, for it was so different to anything he had pictured in his own mind.
“Well, what do you think of it?” said Dale, at last.
“Don’t quite know, sir,” said Saxe, sitting down, drawing up his knees to rest his chin, and throwing his arms about his legs. “It wants looking at. But I’m beginning to understand now. That’s the upper part of the river which runs down the valley, only up here it is always frozen. Seems rum, though, for the sun’s regularly blistering my neck.”
“You have something of the idea, but you are not quite right, Saxe,” replied Dale. “That is the upper part of the river, and yet it is not, because it is a distinct river. You speak of it as if the river up here had become frozen. Now, it is frozen because it has never been otherwise.”
“Must have been water once, or else it couldn’t have run down that narrow valley.”
“It has never been anything but ice, Saxe,” said Dale, smiling; “and yet it has run down the valley like that.”
“Ice can’t flow, because it is solid,” said Saxe dogmatically.
“Ice can flow, because it is elastic as well as solid.”