CHAPTER XXX.
GLACIERS.
THE glacier is one of the wonderful things of the northern regions. We will visit one with Dr. Hayes, and, on our return to the vessel, listen to some curious and interesting facts concerning it. Although there was no sunshine at the time of the first glacier excursion, the twilight was long and clear; it was October twenty-first. The run was made to the foot of the glacier from the vessel, with the dogs, in forty minutes. It appeared here as a great ice-wall, one hundred feet high and a mile broad. The glacier in descending the valley extended in breadth not quite to the slope of the hills, so it left between them and each of its sides a gorge. It is very curious that the ice should not lean against the hills as it slips along and thus fill up all the valley as water would.
Our party first stopped and examined the front face of the glacier. It was nearly perpendicular, but bulging out a little in the middle. It was worn in places by the summer streams which run over it, and marred in other parts by the fall of great fragments into the valley below. While our visitors were gazing at it a crystal block came down as an angry hint for them to stand from under. Wisely heeding the warning, they turned up one of the gorges between the glacier side and the hill. Here was rough traveling, and, we should think, dangerous too. There were strewed along in their path ice fragments from the glacier on one side, and rocks and earth which had slid down the hill on the other. If the glacier was as evil disposed as its children, the icebergs, it might let loose some of its projecting crags on their heads.
Finding a favorable place, they began to cut steps in the side of the glacier in order to mount to its surface. Having reached the top they cautiously walked to the center of the icy stream, drove two stakes on a line in it, and then two half way between these and the sides of the glacier. Then they measured the distance of these stakes from each other, and sighted from their tops fixed objects on the hills. They purposed to come in the spring and examine the distance apart of the stakes, and sight from them the fixed objects, so as to determine how fast the frozen river was moving down the valley. Having set the stakes they scampered back to the vessel.
After a little rest another journey to the glacier was made, this time without the dogs, the sledges, having a light outfit, being drawn by the men. These were young Knorr, the sailor M'Donald, Mr. Heywood, a landsman from the west—an amateur explorer—the Dane, Petersen, and the Esquimo, Peter. When they arrived at the gorge, the way was so rough that they were compelled to carry the sledge loads in parcels on their backs. It was rough work, and they sought an early camp; but with the frowning ice-cliffs on one side and hill-crags on the other, both evil-minded in the use of their icy and rocky missiles, and with also the uneven bed of rocks beneath them, no wonder they did not sleep. They were soon astir, pushed farther up the gorge, and finding a favorable place, began to cut steps up the glacier. The first one who attempted to mount reached some distance, then slipped, and in sliding down carried with him his companions who were following, and the whole company were promiscuously tumbled into the gorge. The one going ahead had better luck the next trial, carrying a rope by which the sledge was drawn up, and all mounted in safety.
They now started off up this ice-river toward the great sea of ice from whence it flowed. The surface was at first rough, and of course slightly descending toward its front edge. Dr. Hayes walked in advance of the sledge party, carrying a pole over his head grasped by both hands, being fearful of the treacherous cracks hidden by their ice. Soon down he went into one, but the pole reached across the chasm and he scrambled out. The depth of the chasm remains a mystery to this day. The ice grew smoother as they proceeded, and they made about five miles, pitched their canvas tents, cooked with their lamp a good supper, made coffee, ate and drank like weary men, crept into their fur sleeping bags, and slept soundly though the thermometer was about fifteen degrees below zero. The next day they traveled thirty miles, and came upon an even plain where the surface of the ice-sea was covered with many feet of snow, the crust of which broke through at every step. This made very hard traveling, yet the following day they tramped twenty-five miles more. Now came the ever-at-hand Arctic storm. They camped, but lower and lower fell the temperature, and fiercer and fiercer blew the wind. They could not sleep, so they decided to turn their faces homeward. The frost nipped their fingers, and assailed their faces, as they hastily packed up and started. They were five thousand feet above the level of the sea, and seventy miles from the coast, and were standing in the midst of a vast icy desert. There was neither mountain nor hill in sight. As in mid-ocean the sailor beholds the sea bounded only by the sky, so here they beheld only ice, which stretched away to the horizon on every side—truly a sea of ice. Clouds of snow whirled along its surface, at times rising and disappearing in the cold air, or drifted across the face of the setting moon—beautiful clouds of fleecy whiteness to the eye, but "burning" the flesh as they pelted the retreating explorers, like the fiery sand-clouds of the Great Sahara. They scud before the wind, which they dared not for a moment face, nor halted until they had traveled forty miles and descended two thousand feet. They then pitched their tents, the cold and wind having lessened though yet severe. They arrived at the ship the next evening, not seriously the worse for their daring "sea-voyage" on foot.
Having been refreshed by food and rest, no doubt our explorers discussed the great glacier problem, and pleasantly chased away many an hour in talk about what they had seen and what they had read on this interesting subject. We think their conversation included some of the following facts:—