An Expedition to Mount St. Elias, Alaska

by Israel C. Russell

"There is not even a suggestion of vegetation in sight. The eye fails to detect a single dash of green or the glow of a single Alpine flower anywhere on the rugged slopes. A small avalanche from the snow-cliffs above, cascading over the cliff which shelters me and only a few yards away, tells why the precipices are so bare and desolate: they have been swept clean by avalanches.

"Far down the western snow-slope I can distinguish crevasses and dirt bands in the Seward glacier, which flows southward past the range on which we sit. The marginal crevasses along the border of the glacier can clearly be distinguished. As usual, they trend up-stream and, meeting medial crevasses, break the surface of the glacier into thousands of pinnacles and tables. Along the center of the stream there are V-shaped dirt bands, separated by crevasses, which point down-stream and give the appearance of a rapid flow to the central portion of the glacier. From this distance its center has the appearance of 'watered' ribbon.

"A little toward the south of where the medial crevasses are most numerous, and at a locality where two opposite mountain spurs force the ice-stream through the comparatively narrow gorge, there is evidently an ice-fall, as the whole glacier from side to side disappears from view. The appearance of Niagara when seen from the banks of the river above the Horseshoe falls is suggested. Beyond this silent cataract, the eye ranges far out over the broad, level surface of the Malaspina glacier, and traces the dark morainal ribbons streaming away for miles from the mountain spurs among which they originate. From the extreme southern cape of the Samovar hills there is a highly compound moraine-belt stretching away toward the south, and then dividing and curving both east and west. The central band of débris must be a mile broad. Along its eastern margin I can count five lesser bands separated by narrow intervals of ice, and on the farther side similar secondary bands are suggested, but the height of the central range almost completely conceals them from view. In the distant tattered ends, however, their various divisions can be clearly traced. Great swirls in the ice are there indicated by concentric curves of débris on its surface.

"Still farther westward there are hills rising to the height of impressive mountains, in which northward dipping rocks, apparently of sandstone and shale, similar to those forming the Hitchcock range, are plainly distinguishable. All the northern slopes of these hills are deeply buried beneath a universal covering of snow evidently hundreds of feet thick, which is molded upon them so as to reveal every swelling dome and ravine in their rugged sides. Farther westward still, beyond a dark headland apparently washed by the sea, there are other broad ice-fields of the same general character as the Malaspina glacier, which stretch away for miles and miles and blend in the dim distance with the haze of the horizon.

"Just west of the Seward glacier, and in part forming its western shore, there are dark, rocky crests projecting through the universal ice mantle, suggesting the lost mountains of Utah and Nevada which have become deeply buried by the dusts of the desert. The character of the sharp crests beyond the Seward glacier indicate that they are the upturned edges of fault-blocks similar to the one on which we are seated. Interesting geological records are there waiting an interpreter. The vastness of the mountains and the snow-fields to be seen at a single glance from this point of view can scarcely be realized. There are no familiar objects in sight with which to make eye-measurements; the picture is on so grand a scale that it defies imagination's grasp."

Searching the snow-sheet below with a field-glass, I discover a minute spot on the white surface. Its movement, slow but unmistakable, assures me that it is Lindsley returning from the site chosen for our camp to-night. Although apparently near at hand, he forms but an inconspicuous speck on the vast snow-field.

Having learned all that I could of the geology of the cliff, and the gathering clouds rendering it unnecessary to climb the summits above, we descended with even more difficulty than we had encountered on our way up, and met Lindsley as he reached the pass. Resuming our packs, we started on, knowing that Crumback would follow our trail; and after two hours' hard tramping over a snow surface rendered somewhat soft by the heat of the day, but fortunately little crevassed, we reached the place chosen for our camp. Crumback soon joined us, and we pitched our tent for the night. The place chosen was on a little island of débris, the farthest out we could discover from the base of the great cliff on the north. We judged that we should there be safe from avalanches, although the screech and hiss of stones falling from the cliff were heard many times during the night.

Lindsley and Crumback, on revisiting the site of our camp two days later, found that a tremendous avalanche of snow and rocks had in the mean time fallen from the cliffs and ploughed its way out upon the glacier to within fifteen or twenty feet of where we had passed the night. They remarked that if the avalanche had occurred while we were in camp, our tent would not have been reached, but that we should probably have been scared to death by the roar.

FIRST FULL VIEW OF ST. ELIAS.