The next day they made a day of rest, which was diversified by Shorty and Lyons slaying in the morning with stones eight out of a covey of ptarmigan, while in the evening they succeeded in smoking out and killing four baby marmots.
On Wednesday they all came over to the Coal Glacier Camp in an hour and a half, found me absent, and carried off the stove and sundry stores, including the rice-pudding. In the evening they went up to a bit of moraine east of, and just beneath, the snow col connecting the camp hill with their first arête, and slept there, leaving at 4.40 next morning, and keeping steadily up the arête till their arrival at the top. There was no difficulty, it was only a sort of treadmill over the loose shale and slate. They kept to the edge of the arête the whole way, and at the point where it articulates with the mountain they went first up loose débris, and then over a little snow, whence they diverged to climb a nice bit of sandstone, and reached the rim of the crater at 7.10.
After ten minutes’ halt they continued along the brink to the summit of the arête climbed on the 30th of July, which was reached at 7.40. They then steered north-west over the snow towards the upper lip of the crater, having to double back considerably to avoid some schrunds. Once above these, they ascended a little snow and then a tedious slope of loose shale, while on their right was a steep snow-slope, in too dangerous a condition for climbing. Near the top of this they met with some more fine rocks of grey sandstone which gave them their second ten minutes of real climbing, and they then rested for lunch from 10.10 to 10.55. The aneroid gave a height of 9,500 feet, and to reach 10,000 they had to go a considerable distance. Just above the sandstone rocks came the top of the snow-slope alongside of which they had been climbing. It proved here to be ice, and they had to cut up it, slanting to the right so as to reach the top, where a sort of cornice was at its best. The last part was dangerous, the ice being loose and granular, while the last few feet were so steep that it was necessary to kneel in the steps. Above this they found a snow-field stretching in waves round the brink of the crater. The snow was very trying, being often above their knees, while large crevasses separated the elevations from the depressions, and wherever the grade was steep the snow changed to ice. They kept on this till they were about due north of the crater, when they had their second lunch at a height of 11,375 feet, as shown on working out the boiling-point observations, and then went on to the foot of the highest rocks that formed part of the eastern edge of the crater. These were steep and mostly covered with snow, in which were large crevasses. The snow mounted in sweeps and terraces to the top of the rocks, which they estimated as about a thousand feet above them. They would have much liked to have ascended these, but the day was advanced, the wind rising, and the sun spoiling their steps, so that they thought it more prudent to return.
At this point they were above the col joining Haydon Peak to Mount St. Elias, but could not see the col itself. They could see, however, that the final peak, which they then estimated as being some six thousand feet above them, would be difficult and perhaps impossible from this col. On the further side it would first be necessary to climb east to avoid an overhanging glacier; then to ascend over rocks, snow, and some green ice which might perhaps be avoided by some steep rocks to the left, but all the climbing up this first thousand feet would be very severe. Afterwards it would be easier, up a snow-slope till above what appears as a mound from below (1,500 to 2,000 feet above the col), then north over a comparatively level snow-field; then up steep snow and rocks to the edge of the true south arête which runs up for about four thousand feet to the summit, chiefly consisting of snow and not steep. The upper half is steeper, but there is no rock, and there would be no difficulty there or on the south-east face, unless, as is very probable, what seems to be snow is in reality ice. Lower down they could see distinctly that this was so, and therefore abandoned all idea of sleeping on the col.
The south-west face is a mass of hanging glaciers. The brow on which they were is seen from below as a wall of snow fringing the top of the crater; on the other side this snow falls away rapidly to the glacier which winds down from the north-east to the head of the Tyndall Glacier. From there no route to the col could be made, as the ice is far too broken, and should any one force the Tyndall ice-fall his best course would be to cross the glacier to a low rock arête, which would take him to some snow-fields whence he might turn west and gain the huge north-west arête of the mountain. By this he could reach the west shoulder and the way would be simple. The weather being perfect, their view was magnificent. To the north-west the ranges were low, but the glaciers went winding out of sight. Mount Wrangel could not be seen, but Fairweather was distinctly visible. On their descent they found the snow and steps much worse. They left Mrs. Haydon’s flag in a meat-tin under a pile of stones at the foot of the sandstone rocks where they made their first lunch, as above this there was no place of security, and got back to camp about nine o’clock.
Next day they crossed over to Camp I, and on the Saturday descended to G, going, at Shorty’s suggestion, all along the Tyndall Glacier, but came to the conclusion that it was not an improvement. As the other men had not turned up, Billy and Jimmy were informed, to their great disgust, that they would have to go next morning and fetch the cache left at J.
Sunday, the 5th.—W. woke us all up in the night by shouting in his sleep, ‘Lyons, Lyons, a serac is falling on the tent!’ for which he was unmercifully chaffed. The Indians arose at some unearthly hour and went off to J, getting back at eight o’clock. At 6.30 A.M. W. went off to try and turn the west end of the opposite range, which we had christened the Ptarmigan Hills. He could persuade no one to go with him as we all believed, first, that the hills could not be turned, owing to the crevassed state of the Guyot Glacier, and secondly, that if he did turn them he would only see another point beyond. We bathed and sketched, and at about noon Ed. and Finn turned up, followed half-an-hour later by Matthew and Gums, who had laudably endeavoured to find a better way through the crevasses on the Guyot Glacier, but had failed signally. Gums had come up in Mike’s place, as the latter’s feet were very sore.
They had had rainy weather on the beach nearly the whole time. A lot of the Yakutats had been there sea-otter hunting with considerable success, and Jack Dalton had camped for one night. He brought the news that the body of a white man had been found at Point Manby, thrown up with a fishing dory. The poor fellow must have got among the breakers at night, and he had thrown out a drag to keep the boat head on to them, but must have swamped as he reached the shore. From the tracks they saw that he was able to crawl up the beach on his hands and knees into the bush, and whether he died there from exhaustion or was killed by a bear no one could say, but it is to be hoped he was dead before the bear got him. No one recognised the boat or knew anything which might lead to discovering his name. They buried what was left of him there, and put the dory over his grave.
Our men had had a fair time among the flesh-pots on the shore, as, though the Indians had got no more seals, they had shot several swans and geese. The men came up in two days, making a camp as before at the place where the river issues from the ice, but succeeded in getting down in one day of sixteen hours. The water was very high, and they had to make a raft before they could cross one creek. After lunch Lyons and I went after ptarmigan with our pistols; Shorty also started with the rifle which had been brought up from the first cache, but his leg was too bad and he had to go back. He looked for me to give me the rifle, but I had vanished down a ravine. There were not very many ptarmigan, while the ground was so broken that it was almost impossible to mark them. I only fired two shots; Lyons was luckier, firing ten or twelve, and getting one bird, which he nearly lost, for he fixed it in his belt by its head, and looking down after a time found head et præterea nil. Retracing his steps carefully he managed to find the corpse. We heard W. also popping away vigorously on the other side of the glacier, but he returned bredouille without having got round the end of the hills. After supper Finn went out with the rifle and got two ptarmigan. He hit a goose, but it escaped into the lake. We decided to make an early start for the shore, so as to avail ourselves of the continued fine weather and get back to Yakutat as soon as possible.
Monday, the 6th.—Moved by the hope of speedily leaving the regions they so thoroughly loathed, the Indians were astir early, and by four o’clock the whole party was up. Finn fried the two ptarmigan for breakfast, but as it was discovered that the Indians had been greasing their boots with the fat in the frying-pan, no one seemed inclined to partake of the dish. We got off by 5.30, and went down to the Guyot Glacier, along which we proceeded at a great pace as the packs were pretty light. We got through the crevasses without much difficulty, and, though we had some rather muddy bits near Lake Castani, we cleared the Chaix Hills at nine o’clock, abandoning to their fate a few stores which had been left in the cache made at the point where our trail from F struck the glacier, Ed., Matthew, and Mike having found more than they could bring up on July 26. Keeping about half-a-mile to the west of the depression between the glaciers, we reached the head of the river at eleven. The water boils out finely from under the ice, but, though it was higher than when the men had last come up, the gravel-flat on which they had then slept being now covered, the volume was not as great as I had expected, being perhaps equal to that of the Visp where it joins the Rhone.