Leaving Crumback and Lindsley to make our camp as comfortable as possible, Kerr and I pressed on with the object of seeing all we could of the country ahead before the afternoon sunlight faded into twilight. Mount St. Elias had been shut out from view, either by clouds or by intervening mountains, for several days; but it was evident that on approaching the end of the Pinnacle pass fault-scarp we should behold it again, and comparatively near at hand.

Continuing down the even snow-slope, in which there were but few crevasses, the view became broader and broader as we advanced, and at length the great pyramid forming the culminating summit of all the region burst into full view. What a glorious sight! The great mountain seemed higher and grander and more regularly proportioned than any peak I had ever beheld before. The white plain formed by the Seward glacier gave an even foreground, broken by crevasses which, lessening in perspective, gave distance to the foot-hills forming the western margin of the glacier. Far above the angular crest of the Samovar hills in the middle distance towered St. Elias, sharp and clear against the evening sky. Midway up the final slope a thin, horizontal bar of gray clouds was delicately penciled. Through the meshes of the fairy scarf shone the yellow sunset sky. The strong outlines of the rugged mountain, which had withstood centuries of storms and earthquakes, were softened and glorified by the breath of the summer winds, chilled as they kissed its crystal slopes.

Could I give to the reader a tithe of the impressions that such a view suggests, they would declare that painters had never shown them mountains, but only hills. So majestic was St. Elias, with the halo of the sunset about his brow, that other magnificent peaks now seen for the first time or more fully revealed than ever before, although worthy the respect and homage of the most experienced mountain-climber, scarcely received a second glance.

Returning to camp, we passed the night, and the following day, August 6, advanced our camp to the eastern border of the Seward glacier at the extreme western end of the upturned crest forming the northern wall of Pinnacle pass.

The western end of the Pinnacle pass cliff is turned abruptly northward, and the rocks dip eastward at a high angle, showing, together with other conditions, that the end of the ridge is determined by a cross-fault running northeast and southwest. West of the Seward glacier there is a continuation of the Pinnacle-pass cliff, but it is greatly out of line. The position of the Seward glacier, in this portion of its course, was determined by the fault which broke the alignment of the main displacement.

Many facts of similar nature show that the glaciers of the St. Elias region have had their courses determined, to a large extent, by the faults which have given the region its characteristic structure: the ice drainage is consequent to the structure of the underlying rocks; the glaciers not only did not originate the channels in which they flow, but have failed to greatly modify them.

Camp 14 was on a sharp crest of limestone, conglomerate, and shale belonging to the Pinnacle system, which was not over ten feet broad where our tent was pitched. East of our tent there was a broad, upward sloping snow-plain banked against the precipitous base of a hill about a thousand feet high. At the edge of the snow, within three feet of our tent, there was a pond of clear water, seemingly placed there for our special use. The western edge of our tent was at the margin of a cliff about a hundred feet high, overlooking the Seward glacier. We held this camp for several days and reöccupied it on our return from St. Elias.

SUMMIT OF PINNACLE PASS CLIFFS.

From Camp 14 Crumback returned to Blossom island, and Stamy took his place. Word from Christie assured me that supplies would be advanced to Blossom island, and that our cache on the Marvine glacier would be renewed. Stamy's arrival was especially welcome for the reason that he brought letters from dear ones far away, which had been forwarded from Sitka by a trading schooner that chanced to visit Yakutat bay.

While the camp hands were busy in bringing up fresh supplies, Kerr and I occupied two stations on the summit of the Pinnacle pass cliffs. One of these was on a butte at the western end of the ridge and just above our camp; the other was on the crest of the main line of cliffs almost directly above Pinnacle pass, at an elevation of 5,000 feet. Each of the stations embraced magnificent views, extending from the outer margin of the Malaspina glacier to the crest of the St. Elias range. The station on the butte near camp was occupied several times, and proved to be a most convenient and commanding point for study of the geography, geology, and distribution of glacier over a wide area. On account of the splendid view obtained from the top we named it Point Glorious. Its elevation is 3,500 feet.