YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT

MT. McKINLEY, 20,390 FEET, HIGHEST MOUNTAIN JN AMERICA

From a painting by RusseU W. Porter

Tothe
Top of the Continent
Discovery, Exploration and Adventure
in Sub-arctic Alaska. The First Ascent
of Mt. McKinley, 1903- 1906
By
FREDERICK A. COOK. M. D.
• • ^
Author of" Through the First Antarctic Night"
Chevalier of the Order of Leopold I. Member of the American, National,
Philadelphia, and Belgian Geographical Societies
President of the Explorers Club

Illustrated from photographs by the author,
a frontispiece in color, drawings, and maps

New York
Doubleday, Page & Company
1908

Copyright, 1904, 1907, by Harper and Brothers
Copyright, 1908, by Frederick A. Cook
Published, February, 1908

ALL RIGHTS RES£RVX:D
INCLUDDia THAT OF TRANSLATION INTO FOREIGN LANGDAGES
INCLUDING TH£ SCANDINAVIAN

TO THE LITTLE PARTY AT HOME
WHO PATIENTLY AWAITED
OUR RETURN

ACKNOWLEDGMENT
THE AUTHOR AND PUBLISHERS -WISH TO THANK MESSRS. HAR
PER AND BROTHERS FOR PERMISSION TO REPRODUCE THAT
PART OF THB TEXT AND SEVERAL OF THE ILLUSTRATIONS
WHICH ORIGINALLY APPEARED IN "HARPERS MAGAZINE."

INTRODUCTORY
In the development of the project for the con
quest of the mountain which this volume
narrates, a series of barriers arose which seemed
almost unsurmountable. A great mountain was
rediscovered in an unexplored district and chris
tened in honour of our late President, William
McKinley. Preliminary investigation proved this
mountain to be the highest peak in North America.
Hidden in the heart of Alaska, far from the sea,
far from all lines of travel, this newly crowned
alpine rival pierced the frosty blue of the Arctic
within reach of the midnight sun. The recog
nition of the pre-eminence of this peak, together
with its fitting designation, framed a national
mountaineering challenge which we took up fully
realising the strenuous task which it entailed.
The mere effort of getting to the base of the
mountain with sufficient supplies to prolong the
siege required the exploration of thousands of
miles of trackless wilderness. Unlike most other
big mountains this giant uplift rises suddenly
out of a low country and the climb begins over
ice torn by crevasses and weighted down by
sharp stones. Above were 19,000 feet of unknow
able troubles, wherein the rush of the crumbling,

X TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
tumbling earth with its storms and snows must
be guarded against. Such an expedition involved
most of the difficulties of arctic travel and all
of the hardships of high alpine ascents multi
plied many times, but with the working incentive
of pioneer adventure, and with the spiritual ex-
hiliration of discovery, all these obstacles, it was
hoped, would eventually be bridged.
Mountaineering as we assume it in this venture
is a department of exploration, and as such it is
worthy of a higher appreciation than that usually
accorded it. Among our British cousins there
has long been an admirable spirit of mountain
adventvire which has developed into a well-defined
sport. In America there has recently grown a
similar appreciation of alpine ascents. This is
made clear by the vigorous growth of the Alpine,
the Appalachian, the Mazama, the Sierra, and
other mountain clubs. Mountaineering is too
often put down as a kind of dare-devil sport,
of risky feats on cloud-piercing pinnacles; but
in climbing there is an inspiration expanding
with the increase of vision which is capable of
much development. In the records of high ascents
there is not only the glory of the pioneer spirit
of conquest, but also data for scientific research
as well as fascinating studies in art. When prim
itive man climbed the nearest hills to get a better
view of the animals he sought, the sport of climbing
began. When he extended this climb to higher
hills to note the lands beyond, then the science

INTRODUCTORY xi
of geography was born, but when he returned and
conveyed to others not only the glory of his
enlarged horizon but the spirit of the outlook then
the climbers' art was established. The succeeding
generations, wandering into new areas and expect
ing always the end of the world just beyond the
horizon, have climbed mountains that they might
see into the mysterious lands beyond. Seeing no
abrupt termination, men have moved on, have
climbed other mountains, have looked farther over
the globe, until to-day there is the prospect of
wireless telegraph stations reaching from peak to
peak, from pole to pole.
The mountain climber and the arctic explorer in
their exploits run to kindred attainments. The
polar traveller walks over uniform snows, over
moving seas of wind-driven ice; his siege is long
and his main torment is the long winter dark
ness. The mountaineer reaches heavenward over
the snows of cloudland. His task is shorter but
more strenuous and his worst discomfort is the
task of breathing rarefied air. In the general
routine, however, both suffer a similar train of
hardships, which hardships are followed by a
similar movement of mental awakening, of spiritual
aspirations, and of profound and peculiar philoso
phy. Thus the stream of a new hope, of dreams
and raptures is started, and this stream seeks a
groove down the path of life for ever after. It
follows that he who ventures into the polar arena
or the cloud battlefield of high mountains will

xii TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
long to return again and again to the scene of his
suffering and inspiration. This return habit or
migratory spirit is a curious study in one of the
first primitive instincts and its most potent factor
is the joy of discovery and exploration. Mount
aineers and polar explorers are thus members of
a widely separated family, and they should be
brought closer together as brothers in a new
school of pioneer adventure. We have much to
learn of each other.
The exploration of the Alaska Range was not
seriously attempted until the Klondyke stampede
of 1897 indicated the mineral prospects of the
adjoining territory. Gold had earlier been found
in the Cook Inlet district but the interior from
the Inlet to the Yukon was a terra incognita.
With the surprising speed of the new gold rush
various government reconnoissance expeditions
were directed into this area of mystery. At about
the same time the gold diggers pressed up the
Susitna and among them was W, A. Dickey, who
in 1898 sighted a big peak, christened it Mount Mc
Kinley, and guessed at its altitude with surpris
ing correctness as 20,000 feet. A sketch of the
mountain with notes was sent to the New York
Sun and the data thus falling into the hands
of the noted geographer Cyrus C. Adams were
placed on record.
A good deal has been said bearing on the wisdom
of placing a modern name over a landmark that
would seem to have been recognised and named

INTRODUCTORY xiii
for ages. We have taken much trouble to clear
this point, but up to the present have been tmable
to trace a name which was previously used to
specifically designate this particular peak. The
Russians applied the name Balshay, meaning big,
to many high mountains, and this name was given
to the peak in question with its companion peaks
in the central group. Thus Bolshoy was the general
name for the highest section of the Alaska Range.
The Susitna Indians gave the name To-lah-gah
to the same group. Therefore the new name Mt.
McKinley finds a proper setting to a fitting monu
ment as a token of appreciation to the memory of
one of our greatest statesmen.
The titanic slopes of ice and granite of this most
majestic of American summits rise out of the
low wet wilderness of mid-Alaska, dividing the
game and gold countries which will soon be
trailed by the prospector and the nimrod, dividing
also the tributary waters of the Yukon, the
Kuskokwim, and the Susitna, Alaska's greatest
rivers. From the west the giant cliffs rise suddenly
out of an ancient glacial shelf extending hundreds
of square miles. Here good grass is found in
abundance, and herds of caribou graze along
the edge of the timber line. At the heads of
countless glacial streams the moose nibbles sprigs.
In the endless fields of blueberries the huge grizzly
bear grunts in peace, and along the foothills in
great white zigzags the snowy mountain sheep
climbs to untroubled joys. To the north-east and

xiv TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
south-west the higher slopes are continuous with
a narrow saw-toothed ridge ten thousand feet
high. The approaches from the north and east
are guarded by a wide belt of mountains rising
to altitudes of twelve thousand feet, but from
the south-east there is an unobstructed view.
From the banks of the Susitna River the mountain
stands out a huge succession of cliffs weighted
down with all the snow it can possibly carry.
Many glaciers receive the ceaseless downpour of
avalanches from the misty heights, and these
glaciers extend to amphitheatres where the clouds
deposit their frozen vapours carried from the
warm Japan current.
The task of getting to the base of this mountain
is a prodigious venture which offers very many
difficult obstacles to the transportation of men
and supplies. The prospective conqueror of this
immense uplift must pick his path through forest
and marsh, to one of its many glaciers, and then
begin the climb at 2000 feet or lower. He as
cends for miles over sharp broken stones and then
up a slope of s6racs and aretes, around gloomy
cloud-rubbed rocks, up into the most desperate
cold that man has encountered.
We tried not to underestimate the arduous task
or the unavoidable hardships of our assumed
' mission. Months were spent in preparation to
use human energy to the best advantage and with
the greatest economy. Our ultimate success was
due mainly to this preliminary preparation. For

INTRODUCTORY xv
the pvirpose of our enterprise the usual moun
taineering equipment was quite impossible, for our
limited means of transportation, and likewise the
assistance of alpine guides seemed of doubtful
value because of the prolonged task of difficult
exploration in low countries before the alpine
work was to begin.
The food and fuel supply for a prolonged ascent
over icy slopes will always prove a difficult problem.
In this phase of our work we were greatly helped
by the experience in polar effort. After many
years of experiment I have about concluded
that all the gastronomic needs are best supplied
by pemmican, biscuits, and sugar. A few minor
accessories might be added but this is all that is
absolutely required. For fuel we burned wood
below 3000 feet, kerosene for the preliminary
exploration among the foothills, and alcohol for
the high camps.
The entire equipment for the climbing expedition
differed radically from that usually carried, but the
special things which led to success were a light
Shantung silk tent and a combined robe and
sleeping bag, together weighing but eight pounds.
With this refinement of climbing equipment
we were able to be independent of guides and of
porters, for the necessary weights which we trans
ported were so reduced that with fifty pounds on
each of our backs we were completely outfitted for
a campaign of two weeks. It is not often that a
more prolonged siege is necessary from a base camp.

xvi TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
For the pioneer work of the low country we were
guided by the experience of the exploring parties
of the U. S. Geological Survey and the needs
of the prospectors. Our food supply here was
flour, bacon, beans, and the. various accessories
which the gold diggers have found best. For
transportation we secured pack horses east of
the Cascade Range; semi- wild, hardy animals
that endured the hardships of Alaska very well.
For river transportation we built a special river
boat able to cope with shallow swift streams.
This double system of transportation was of vital
importance to us.
In the run of failures and successes which marked
our conquest, I was nobly supported by two loyal
parties of able assistants. No great task of ex
ploration can succeed without a strong bond of
helpfulness extending to the leader and to the
family of workers. The unselfish energy expended
by every man in my parties was very commendable.
We did have our minor differences, but in the mara
the interest in the success of each expedition was
ever foremost. To these men and to a number
of warm friends who at home have assisted in the
enterprise is due a large measure of praise.
Frederick Albert Cook.
670 BusHwicK Ave.,
Brooklyn, N. Y.

PAGE

CONTENTS
CHAPTER Introductory ..... ix
PART I  THE EXPEDITION OF I903
I. With the Breath of the Tropics into the
Arctic ...... I
II. From Volcanic Fires to Frigid Jungle . 1 2
III. Westward through the Alaska Range into
the Kuskokwim . . . .21
IV. Through the World's Best Big Game
Country . . . . -35
V. Up the Slopes of Mt. McKinley from the
Southwest — The First Defeat . . 48
VI. Against the Western Face of Mt. McKinley
— The Second Defeat . . -57
VII. Northward through the Range and into
the Chulitna . . . . -71
VIII. Fording, Swimming, and Rafting the
Chulitna  82
IX. Down the Susitna. Around the Alaska
Range ...... 91
PART II  THE EXPEDITION OF I906
I. With the Prospector into a New Gold
Country ..... 99
II. Preparations for the Cross-country March.
Motor-boating in Cook Inlet . .106
III. Through the Valley of the Yentna.
Climbing Tumbling Waters in a Motor
Boat . . . . -IIS
xvii

xviii TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
CHAPTER ^*™
IV. Discoveries About Mt. Dall and the Yentna
Headwaters  127
V. Into the Yentna Canyons . . -135
VI. Northward to Mt. McKinley over New
Gold Diggings . . . .148
VII. Over Gold-strewn Lowlands to Mt. Mc
Kinley from the South . . .161
VIII. With the Descending Cloud Waters Back
to the Sea. The Party Scatters . 174
IX. Up the Susitna and Chulitna by Motor
Boat  183
X. Discover a Way to Reach the Summit of
Mt. McKinley. Preparations for the
Climb . . . . . .190
XI. To the Northeast Ridge. In a Snowhouse
at 12,000 Feet .... 203
XII. To the Brink of an Arctic Inferno.
A Night in a Ditch at 14,000 Feet . 212
XIII. Glory and Desolation above the Clouds
from 16,300 to 18,400 Feet . . 221
XIV . To the Top. The World in White and the
Heavens in Black . . . .229
APPENDICES
Appendix A. Sketch of Geology of Mt. McKinley
Region. By Alfred H. Brooks . . -237
Appendix B. Biological Data and Specimens
Collected by Charles Sheldon. Descriptions
by Wilfred H. Osgood . . . .261
Appendix C. The Cook Inlet Aborigines. By
Charles Sheldon. . . . . .269
Appendix D. Railway Routes in Alaska. By
Alfred H. Brooks . . . . .279

ILLUSTRATIONS

Mt. McKinley, 20,390 feet. Highest Mountain in

America  Frontispiece

Portrait of Frederick A. Cook, M. D.

PAGE 2

Along the Alaska Coast Near Sitka

3

The Party of 1 903

14

Totem Poles, Sitka

IS

Redoubt Volcano, Cook Inlet

18

Tyonok .....

19

Into the Chulitna Canyons .

30

Guiding a Horse Ashore, Cook Inlet

30

A Kenai Waif ....

31

The Susitna Chief ....

31

Susitna Mother and Child .

. .^6

The Imprint of a Hard Life . • • 37

The Big Brown Bear of the Eastern Slopes of the

Alaska Range ...... 44

The White Mountain Sheep . . . 45

Cutting Steps in the Ice . . . .82

Breaking Camp on the Southwest Ridge . . 82

Harvey Glacier ....... 83

Mt. McKinley from the Northwest ... 83

Bridgman River ..... 94

The Mt. McKinley Caribou ..... 94

Out of the Clouds Down to the Chulitna . . 95

Over an Ice Bridge ...... 95

Rafting ........ 102

Motor-boating in the North Country where Dusk

and Dawn Run Together . . . -103

In Cook Inlet Storms ....

106

XX TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT

Horses Fording ......
Porter Sketching Contours from Above the Clouds
Browne
RaconvenzeBeecherParker
Printz
Barrille
Brewing Tea in Fields of Wild Flowers
Sub-arctic Pond Lilies
Fording the Yentna ....
Ready for a Plunge ....
On Lake Bradley ....
Mt. Disston and the Gathering Basins East
Ruth Glacier .....
Miner's Map of Mt. McKinley Region, Alaska,
A Trout Stream ....
WyckofE Glacier ....
Out of Great Blue Caverns and over Precipices, the
Glacial Waters Pour with a Maddening Rush
The Plunge of the Glacial Streams. Face of Hunt'
ington Glacier .....
Mt. McKinley Seen from Browne Ridge
Susitna Pete ......
Foot-hills East of Mt. Disston
Top of Bryant Peaks . . . .
The Face of Huntington Glacier .
Mt. Disston and Mt. McKinley from a Foot-hill
Twenty Miles South ....
Camp Scene on New Gold Diggings
The Eastern Cliffs of Mt. McKinley
The SUk Tent 
Edward Barrille with the Camel-hair Section of the
Sleeping Bag as a Poncho
Over the Moraine of Ruth Glacier

107116
116
116
116
116
116
116117
117
124124
"S
152
152IS3
I S3
153
163
163
163
163
166
166167
170170171
174
174175

ILLUSTRATIONS xxi
First Five of the Twelve New Peaks of Ruth Glacier 192
Mt. Barrille, the Northeast Ridge . . -193
The Middle Northeast Slopes . . . .196
An Amphitheatre . . . . . -197
Sleeping Bag . . . . . . .202
In a Snow-house on the Northeast Ridge . . 204
In the Solitude of the Cloud World . . . 205
Into the Breath of Death-dealing Avalanches . 208
On the Brink of an Arctic Inferno . . . 209
In the Silent Glory and Snowy Wonder of the Upper
World ....... 226
The Top of Our Continent . . . . .227
Clouds and Cliffs, 13,000 Feet .... 238
Scene of Glaciers, Peaks and Cliffs . . .239
Generalised Section through Alaska Range along
Valley of Cantwell River . . . .247
Generalised Section Alaska Range from Skwentna
River to Kuskokwim River . . . -247
Map of Alaska, Showing Navigable Waters and
Railroads ....... 281
Generalised Profiles of Proposed Railway Routes . 286
Map of Alaska, Showing Mt. McKinley and Gold-
producing Areas . . . . . .289
Copper-bearing Areas of Alaska, so far as Known . 290
Map of Alaska, Showing Distribution of Timber . 293
Map of Alaska, Showing the Distribution of the
Coal-bearing Rocks, so far as Known . .296
Geographic Provinces of Northwestern North
America ....... 300
The Increasing Gold Production of Alaska . -303
Map of Alaska, Showing Railway Routes and Known
Occurrences of Economically Important Minerals 3 06
Topographic Reconnaissance Map, from Controller
Bay to Prince William Sound . , .310

PART I
THE EXPEDITION OF 1903

TO THE TOP OF THE
CONTINENT CHAPTER I
With the Breath of the Tropics Into the
Arctic
WE HAD planned to go to the top of the conti
nent, to the summit of Mt. McKinley.
This is, perhaps, the most inaccessible of all the
great mountains of the world; but it is also the
centre of one of the most fascinating areas of rug
ged wilderness. The huge ice-corniced granite
cliffs rise in successive tiers out of a gold-strewn
low country, over which wander bear, moose,
caribou, and other big game animals. The middle
slopes are swept by a sea of storm-driven clouds,
and above, far above the usual cloud line, there
is a new world of silent glory and snowy wonder.
Peak upon peak, range upon range, the great uplift
continues to rise into the blackness and mystery
of the arctic heavens. Our route is through pri
meval forests, across and against rushing glacial

2 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
streams, over marshes and tundras, on to tumbling
glacial ice, up into the frosty mist of the upper
world. The obstacles are many, but the splendid
prospective achievement of the conquest .is in fair
proportion to the magnitude of the task.
Alighting from the luxurious Northwestern
Limited we began our conquest by a jaunt into
the primitive at North Yakima. Here we secured
from the Indians fifteen pack-horses of the kind
which we believed to be best adapted to the rough
life of Alaskan mountaineering. The Yakima
cayuse has a hard struggle for subsistence in
high sterile country, and if properly trained and
of good size he works well and endures the north
ern hardships with less chances of breaking down
than animals raised in an easier environment.'
At Seattle we spent many anxious days in selecting
food and equipment. We found the prices there
reasonable, and the tradesmen admirably prepared
to fit out such ventures as ours.
In due time the expedition with its many needs
was on board the quaint Alaskan coaster, the
steamer Satita Ana. The ropes were cast off at
dawn on the morning of June 9, 1903, as the whis
tles started a run of noises that must have awak
ened the whole town. Men were on the docks
cheering for their parting comrades en route to
the new Eldorado of gold and hope; men on board
were giving a parting shout to their less ambitious
fellows ashore. All of this human howl was fol
lowed by a chorus from horses, cattle, pigs, dogs,

FREDERICK A. COOK, M. D.

ALONG THE ALASKA COAST NEAR SITKA

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 3
and chickens on board, giving a taste of wild,
animal excitement in keeping with our mission.
We were soon gliding over the silvery surface of
Puget Sound and, as the dark spirals of smoke
rose from the city through the still balm)' air into
cloudless skies, we got a superb glimpse of the
huge forests along the shore-line, and, far beyond,
the magnificent snow-crested peaks of the Coast
Range. Mt. Tacoma with its poetic mountain
solitude, and its sublime vapour drapery of purple
and gold, was slowly sinking into the broad green
expanse. All on board were on deck dreaming
of Alaska and the return a few months hence with
pouches of gold and a wealth of other hopes. Good
weather followed while the landscape improved
with our progress "down north and up along."
The rugged, snowy heights of Vancouver Island,
ever wrapped in storm-clouds, made a striking
contrast to the sunny, quiet waters of the inland
sea which laps the soft green shores of British
Columbia. Thus we followed the warm, vapour-
charged breezes, the breath of the tropics, along
the evergreen shore-line of Alaska with the north
ward sweep of the Pacific into the icy air of the
Arctic. A short stop was made at Juneau early in the
moming of the fourth day, and from there delight
ful weather followed us to Sitka. During the
night we steamed easily among the magnificent
mountains under a sky ever changing from tones
of blue and purple, the prow sending up ripples in

4 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
glittering waters which reflected the snowy peaks
of the arctic world in close contrast to the dense
green verdure along tempting shore-lines. The
night effect was nearly that of the higher polar
zones. There was its silvery brightness, its in
spiring stillness, its elusive grandeur, plus the joys
of dense forests but without frigid discomforts.
Near Sitka we saw two little deer sporting on a
sandy beach apparently unconcerned at the sight
of a big ship with its noise and smoke.
Sitka is the most picturesque and the most orig
inal of the coast towns of Alaska. Its numerous
historic reminiscences, its church, its old Russian
architecture, and its totem poles, will long make
it a mecca for tourists, but as a business town the
outlook is not cheerful. The fur trade is no longer
profitable, its fisheries are controlled by large can
neries. The rival mining excitement in other
cities has left Sitka a lonely town interest
ing for its life of a past decade.
On leaving Sitka most of us went to bed to await
Neptune's call, for here we plunged from the quiet
inland waters into the always unruly waters of
the Gulf of Alaska. The weather proved unex
pectedly good, and the Santa Ana, though her
decks were crowded with lumber, coal, cattle and
horses and other live stock, rode the big seas with
ease and grace while Captain Schage, ever on the
alert for the comfort of his charges, made life easy
and interesting. Early in the mornine of the 15 th
the curtain of mist was raised from the Fairweather

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 5
Range. During the night the needle peaks of
Baranoff Island vied with the easy slopes of
Edgecomb volcano for notice, but now the giant
snowy crests of this unknown cluster of great peaks
compelled our attention. At the sound of the
ship's triangle at eight, we paced the decks and
discussed the principal peaks of the Fairweather
and St. Elias groups. Mt. Fairweather was in all
its glory of glitter and colour. A bunch of pearly
clouds partly screened the sun, allowing silvery
beams of light to dart upon glacial slopes, while
the waters near the ship were strewn with spouting
whales. Mt. Fairweather resembles Mt. McKinley in
is general environment and also in main outline.
We noted three possible routes to its stmimit
and plotted the mountain for a possible future
exploration. Mt. St. Elias with its companion peak Mt.
Logan and the great maze of glaciers and lesser
mountains next took our attention. Mt. St.
Elias is a huge pyramid rising out of an immense
area of glacial ice about forty miles from the sea,
while Mt. Logan, a great whaleback of snow in
Canadian territory, twenty-five miles beyond St.
Elias, among a sheen of giant peaks, is plainly
noted as the greatest of the coast peaks. Mt.
Logan is over 19,000 feet high and is therefore
the second highest peak in North America. Its
ascent and exploration offer many difficulties
because of the arduous task of approaching its
base. Nevertheless, if supplies were moved to

6 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
the base in the end of February and early March,
the lower areas might then be explored while food
caches were appropriately placed, and later the
final climb might be made by a quick assault.
The coast from Mt. St. Eli^s to Port Valdez
is less picturesque, but more useful. Placer gold,
copper, coal, and petroleum are among the miner
als which have just at present created a boom.
No less than four railroads are here in the course
of construction, all aiming at the resources of the
interior of Alaska, but mostly the copper of the
Copper River Valley. Two of these roads are to
start from points near the delta of the Copper
River, one from Valdez, and one from Seward.
Each terminus has had, or is expected to have,
its boom. Valdez was made to survive while its
railroad was being projected on paper; later, the
town discovered itself, made a trail to Fairbanks,
located copper in Prince William Sound, and now
the people have a substantial town which originally
was little more than a hope for the future. The
same can be said of Seward.
With a lighter cargo and less animal life we
steamed over the mirrored waters of Prince Wil
liam Sound with its fascinating reflections of
glaciers and snow-streaked mountains, around
Kenai Peninsula into the great gulf named in
honour of its discoverer. Captain James Cook,
Cook Inlet. A delightful run of a few hours among
grassy islands where blue foxes are farmed took
us to Seldovia. This harbour is a quaint little

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 7
basin surrounded by a few Indian log huts with
grass thatched roofs, a Russian church, and sev
eral trading sheds.
We left Seldovia with the first glimmer of dawn,
aiming to catch the ingoing tide at Anchor Point.
The night was cloudy, but now the sky cleared
and a warm glow spread over the cold waters of
Cook Inlet. Mt. McKinley, two hundred and
forty miles northward, was just visible, a mere
tooth of ice biting the arctic skies. The volcanoes,
Chinabora, lUiamna, and Redoubt, were all send
ing columns of steam, but they did not pourtray
signs of warmth. lUiamna and Redoubt were
particularly frigid. Great mantles of ice encased
their giant slopes to within two thousand feet
of the sea level. The Cook Inlet shores showed
signs of an earlier season than did the coast from
Sitka to Seward. Indeed, from Seward north
ward and to the utmost reaches of Cook Inlet the
advanced stage of vegetation betrays the greater
effect of the Japan current. The snow here had
been melted several weeks, grass was thriving,
the alders, willows, and birches were in new dress,
and the overtime work of the sun in high latitude
was everywhere in evidence.
Tyonok, a little row of log huts, dignified by
more pretentious storehouses of the Alaska Com
mercial Company, was not sighted until we were
within ten miles of the sand spit upon which it
is located. Behind it we noted a bank perhaps
four hundred feet high with ctirious lines upon it.

8 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
Here we saw as we got nearer cultivated gardens,
planted on steep slopes because at that angle the
greatest heat would be absorbed. These gardens
are said to be "planted with a shotgun, and dug
out by landslides." Beyond this embankment
there is a wide spread of timbered tableland which
ends in the foothills of Mt. Spur, a snow peak
nearly ii,ooo feet high. The foothills and asso
ciated peaks of this mountain are so extensive
that it would be safe to say that Mt. Spur has the
largest base of any mountain in North America.
At 2 A.M. we dropped.anchor in the rushing tidal
current a half-mile off shore. Among the huts in
Tyonok wolfish Eskimo dogs chased each other,
sounding their harrowing howls. This, with the
whistle of the Santa Ana, brought out a few half-
clad, half-awake Indians. On board ship every
thing was life and bustle, men and horses after a
long sea voyage had reached their destination;
henceforth a keen battle was to be fought with
the sterner elements of nature. All were bent
on exploring, some for gold, some to find the haunts
of new game, and others to climb America's giant
peak. To the east, sharply silhouetted against
the orange glow of dawn, we saw Kenai Peninsula,
the curious line of ice-crested mountains of uni
form height. To the west and south-west, under
a dark purple sky, rose the rugged outline of the
Alaska Peninsula. The most noticeable features
of this sheen of cold, hard mountain expanse were
the smoking volcanoes of lUiamna and Redoubt.

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 9
The icy mantle of lUiamna was glowing with the
fire from the rising sun. Redoubt spouted flames
and vapours and gave a suggestion of life and heat
to what appeared to be a land of death and frost.
The shore-line of the head of Cook Inlet was
screened by a blue haze, but several times during
the night of twilight we got a peep of a snowy
crest which pierced the blue dome far northward.
This peak like a star on a cloudy night would
blink and disappear with marvellous quickness.
It did not seem to us as being very far away, nor
did it give the impression of great altitude, but
there was a mystery about the thing which kept
one's attention pointed. This in reality was Mt.
McKinley, one hundred and fifty miles away, the
ultimate destination of the impatient advent
urers on board the Santa Ana, the new Eldorado
of the big game htinter, the gold seeker, and the
mountaineer. I found it interesting to try to note the reasons
why men go to this far-off northland to fulfil the
ambitions of the prospector, the hunter, or the
mountaineer. The three classes have no interest
in common, and no sympathy for each other ; each
argued that the other's longing should be satisfied
nearer home; but the somewhat similar train of
troubles in prospect for them made a kind of broth
erly bond to help each other. We were all the
wildest kind of dreamers.
Soon we began to throw the horses over to
swim ashore, but the tide was so strong and

IO TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
the water so cold that the poor creatures were
nearly exhausted before they scented the shore.
The long ocean voyage had prepared the ani
mals doubly to appreciate the sense of se
curity of land and its growth of luscious green
grass. Their ears quivered, their heads raised,
and their feet were light when green fields and new
forests were once more before them.
We had now come five thousand miles only to
find that the enormous task of getting to the base
of the great mountain had but just begun. Thus
far our voyage had been one of pleasing surprises
greatly enjoyed by all, but now we had arrived
at the parting of the ways, and also came the part
ing of friends. Mrs. Cook had accompanied us
thus far and was eager to go farther, but in the
anticipated hardships of the overland trip it did
not seem to be prudent to risk the discomforts,
so she wisely decided to limit her exploring ven
tures to the more congenial coast in the vicinity
of Valdez. Captain Schage and several other
friends bade us a hearty farewell, then the old
steamer turned seaward and we were left to
work out the task of transporting ourselves and
supplies over regions of forests, marshes, and
mountains to the heart of Alaska.
By this time I had gotten acquainted with the
men of the party, and it was now clear to me that
I had made no mistake in the selection of the per
sonnel. At any rate the manly faithfulness of
each was clear and while we must have personal

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT n
differences of opinion, as do the members of every
pioneer expedition, the determined union of forces
displayed on this first day of hard work was never
broken.

CHAPTER II
From Volcanic Fires to Frigid Jungle
WE HAD quite an exciting adventure in
training our semi-savage horses to sub
mit to carrying packs. The long period en route
by train and boat, being fed on oats and cooped
up in small boxes, did not tend to a taming ten
dency. First the Indian dogs tormented them,
and later the flies and mosquitoes sapped their
blood, and now we were trying to harness the
excited animals. They had about decided that
this new land promised trouble and they resented
with tooth and hoof. For two days we packed
the .cayuses and they unpacked themselves,
kicking us and the packs around the old army
barracks in lively Western style. Ronzo, the
most wicked of the horse desperadoes, escaped
so many times and made such dangerous plunges
that we thought it prudent to give him his freedom.
Finch, the energetic storekeeper of the Alaska
Commercial Company, said that he would school
him to a better life, but Ronzo's heels were too
light and when we returned four months later
he was still the hero of liberty, roaming at will in
the forests toward the fires of Redoubt volcano.

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 13
Packed with one hundred and fifty pounds
each the horses were started northward on the
morning of June 25th along the beach of Cook
Inlet. The animals were frisky and set a rapid
pace. Soon after noon we reached the end of an
extensive flat meadow which marked the begin
ning of the low country of the delta of the Beluga.
Here we found in abundance the three necessities
of camp life, grass, wood, and water, and soon
decided to camp. On the following day we set
a course through a jungle out of which the snow
had just melted, to the first bank above the delta
about five miles from the mouth. Here we saw a
large brown bear on the opposite shore pitching
salmon on the beach. The bear paid no attention
to us, and since we were not in need of either his
skin or his meat we did not interrupt his sport.
Successive schools of white whales (belugas)
ascended the river, cutting the oily, chocolate
coloured surface of the waters in a vigorous but
graceful manner and spouting jets of vapour
with a sound that reverberated from shore to
shore, breaking the silence of an otherwise deso
late wilderness.
The Beluga River takes its name from these
white whales ascending its waters. From the
miners who have prospected its shores to the
source we learned that the river is about thirty
miles long and starts from two deep lakes. These
lakes are supplied by glacial streams coming from
the mountains to the north and east of Mt. Spur.

14 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
Great overhanging glaciers are above the last of
these lakes and the frequent earthquakes shake
down extensive masses of ice, which, falling into
the lake, cause the river to rise with a dangerous
suddenness. One of these strange floods occurred
in winter when the temperature was 40° below
zero, and all the river was covered with ice.
Suddenly the ice and the fiats were flooded and
the miners who were sledding up the river barely
escaped by climbing trees, for a flood at such a
temperature makes a sweep of death to all living
things. The Beluga is very shallow at its mouth but
at high tide moderate-sized boats with a draft
of not more than four feet can cross the delta.
Above the stream deepens and narrows to about
four hundred feet. It is navigable for about ten
miles and with dories much farther. This would
make a splendid area for a small exploring party.
Bears are very numerous and the chances for
other game are good. The opportunities for
original discovery are not surpassed by many
other regions. Placer gold, copper, and coal exist
here, in tempting quantities. The river winds
through a densely forested low country where
botanical enthusiasts and collectors of small life
are likely to make many discoveries. In the lakes
should be found rare specimens and in the mount
ains above there are new unmapped snow peaks
and glaciers enough to satisfy the most ardent
alpine climber.

Robert Dunn Mra. F. A. Cook

Ralph Shainwald Dr. F. A. Cook
THE PARTY OF 1803

Fred Printz

TOTEM POLES, SITKA

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 15
From Tyonok a boat was sent to the Beluga
to ferry the men and the packs. This task about
completed we took the lead horse, fastened to him
a long rope, urged him into the river, and pad
dled slowly across stream, while the other horses
were forced to plunge in from a cut bank. They
gathered in a bunch, snorting, and tried to get
back to the shore from which they started. Fail
ing in this they took to the stream for the green
meadows opposite where the lead horse was
towed as a decoy. They climbed out on the soft
marshes and here they saw many fresh bear
tracks which interested them very much. With
their noses to the footprints they started in a
hasty pursuit like dogs on the chase.
The route which we had outlined to the western
slopes of Mt. McKinley was one explored and ad
vocated by Alfred H. Brooks of the U. S. Geo
logical Survey. From the Beluga there was an
old Indian winter trail close to the head waters
of the Theodora River over bald hills to the head
waters of the Talushulitna River, and from thence
keeping a general north-western course to the head
waters of Canyon Creek, following this creek to
the Skwentna River. Descending the Skwentna
to a point about a mile below the lower canyon
and crossing here the trail wound around the
shell hills over an old trail cut by Lieutenant
Heron. We aimed to cross the range through
Simpson Pass into the Kuskokwim and from
there, above the tree line and close to the

1 6 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
Alaska Range we expected to find a trail to Mt.
McKinley. Under the direction of Dunn the pack train
was started over the Indian trail for the Skwentna.
I estimated that it would take about seven days
to cover this sixty miles of very difficult travel
ling through dense forests over marshes and tun
dras. We anticipated considerable difficulty in
getting a boat to the Skwentna ford in time to
ferry the packs across without delay. Though
I should have preferred to join the pack train the
uncertainties of the boat mission were so great
that I assumed the responsibilities of that com-
paign with Miller as my associate. In our small
dory loaded to the gunwale we drifted quickly
along the cut banks of the Beluga in oily brown
waters, out through the delta with its great stir
of bird life into the rushing tide ripples of Cook
Inlet. We thought we had gauged the tide time
rightly, for in the Inlet tide not time rules every
movement by land or sea. Ashore progress is only
possible along the sandy beach at low tide; by
water, since the tidal current is eight miles per
hour, everything goes with it. We aimed to strike
the tide high and so go over the great flats into
the delta of the Susitna River. The river is about
five miles wide at its mouth with but two or three
navigable channels very difficult to find. While
searching for these channels the tide suddenly
went out and left us high on a vast mud flat. In
a few minutes we found our boat glued to a pasty

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 17
clay a mile from shore and three miles from the
receding tide waters. This was exactly what we
had tried to avoid, for we knew that the rising
tide was likely to come with the wild sweep of a
destructive boa, filling our boat before she could
rise from the sticky clay.
The ensuing night caused us a great deal of
anxiety. Our first concern was to devise some
plan to raise the boat on planks so the coming
tide would not find us pasted to the clay. This
was soon accomplished and then we sought some
wood for a camp-fire. A good portion of the night
was spent in brewing tea, cooking beans, and bak
ing bread while we watched carefully the weather
signs. For an incoming wind with the tide would
mean destruction to us. We took turns in keeping
up the watch for the coming danger.
This night with its run of uncomfortable pre
monitions was nevertheless strikingly impressive.
The sun sank under the rugged snowy peaks of
the Tordrillo Range, leaving a warm rosy after
glow over everything. Even the mud which,
ordinarily black and repulsive, covered our sur
roundings glittered with reflected colours. Re
doubt volcano, eighty-five miles south, in a cloak
of violet snow, belched huge tongues of fire and
clouds of vapour. One hundred and twenty miles
south, still plainly visible, was Mt. lUiamna,
clear cut, its cone of bright purple snow standing
against a sky of dark purple-blue. Then as the
eye glanced across the great expanse of rushing

1 8 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
waters of Cook Inlet it rested upon a sea of fas
cinating blues and purples and violets, flooded
by the rose and gold of the parting sun. Far off
to the west, under a haze of blue, were the curious
mountains of equal height, characteristic of the
Kenai Peninsula. To the north Mt. Susitna,
dull, black, and gloomy, wrapped in storm clouds,
apparently but a stone's throw though fifteen
miles away, and to the eastward of it the great
broad delta of the Susitna River, covered by a
dense verdure, almost tropical in luxuriance. It
was a scene which rapidly changed in colour and
interest as the long twilight of the arctic midsum
mer night advanced.
In the morning the tide came and lifted us as
easily as it had left us, and then we pulled for the
left fork of the Susitna River. We soon found
that the current of the river was too strong for
rowing, so we tried towing. At noon we came to
a small Indian settlement, where we got an Indian
boy by the name of Stephen to assist us. ' Stephen
proved to be an expert boatman, but our troubles
increased with every mile of advance. The water
got swifter and deeper, too swift to paddle and
too deep to pole, while the cut banks and over
hanging brush made lining almost impossible.
On the moming of July 2d, after nearly four
days of the hardest kind of river boating, we
reached Susitna Station, a small trading post
twenty miles up the river. The weather had been
uniformly bad, cold and wet, but it did not prevent

REDOUBT VOLCANO, COOK INLET

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 19
the gnats and mosquitoes from doing their worst.
These persistent pests followed us over the waters
in clouds, with a buzz that drove us to the verge
of madness. Ovir hands and faces were so badly
bitten that we developed serious forms of inflam
mation, followed by pain, fever, and torture in
describable. All this in spite of great care in
protecting ourselves by "dope," veils, gloves, and
a mosquito-proof tent. I have seen mosquitoes
and allied pests in all parts of the world, but the
Susitna denizens are certainly in my experience
by far the most desperate in their attack upon
man and beast.
At the Station we secured Evan, an Indian
friend of Stephen, to assist us; we also obtained
a better river boat. We had arranged to meet
the pack train at a point fifteen miles up the
Skwentna River in a week after leaving the Beluga.
We had spent five days in ascending the Susitna
twenty miles, and now there were sixty mUes of
worse water ahead of us before we could join our
party. Our Indians told us that it would take
twenty days to meet the horses.
Soon after leaving the Station we pulled up the
Yentna River, a great glacial stream a half-mile
wide draining most of the eastern side of the
Alaska Range.
Poling and towing, rowing, pushing, and by all
kinds of devices, we averaged twelve miles daily.
The fifteen miles up the Skwentna River to the
canyon, which we were told could not be made in

20 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
less than a week, was covered in one long day. On
the morning of the Sth of July, we pitched camp on
a small island in the Skwentna River, two miles
below the canyon, the appointed place to meet
the pack train. Nothing was observed of our
companions, though we expected them to have
been in waiting several days, till noon of the same
day, when we heard a voice and soon we saw the
horses moving along the southern side of the river.
The Skwentna is here about three hundred yards
wide, and plunges over a gravel bed at the rate of
eight miles per hour. The men and outfit were
quickly ferried over, but we had considerable
trouble in swimming the horses. One unfortunate
animal was carried down-stream five miles, and
was only finally secured by the great skill and
diligence of Printz; but the animal was so nearly
exhausted that it never recovered its normal
strength, although it followed us to Mt. McKinley.
The course taken by the pack-train from the
Skwentna River was almost due north twenty
miles over swampy spruce-timbered country to the
Kichatna River about four miles above its mouth,
and to this point it was also necessary to take the
boat.

CHAPTER III
Westward Through the Alaska Range into
the Kuskokwim
THE descent of the Skwentna River was im
mensely exciting. In less than two hours we
rushed over fifteen miles of foaming rapids, jump
ing boulders and snags and gravel bars with a
rush that made us hold our breaths. In ascending
the Yentna we discovered that the river in the
vicinity of Mt. Yenlo split into several slews
making large picturesque islands. To study this
curious distribution of river waters and the edge
of the Alaska Range through which we were
about to seek a pass we ascended Mt. Yenlo
or Tahliktah as the Susitna Indians call the
mountain. It was also expected that from here
we would be able to get a good view of Mt. McKin
ley and its environments from the south and
east. We landed on the east side of the Yentna at a
point where the main river is nearest the southwest
base of the mountain. After making camp under
birch trees we left Evan to guard the boat from
floating driftwood and our food from bears, whUe
Miller and Stephen joined me in the first alpine

2 2 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
adventure. A broad marshy meadow was first
crossed. Here we sank to our knees in pools while
the brush and high grass made progress difficult
and slow. In the centre of this marsh we found a
chain of small lakes in which we saw salmon trout
darting about. On the surface of these lakes we
were surprised to find pond lilies and along the
edge were beautiful yellow and purple flowers.
The soft green verdure and the warm colours of the
mountain were superbly reflected in the mercurial
surface of the water, but in our comforts we were
not in harmony with the deceptive congeniality.
The water was just above the freezing point,
we were saturated to the skin by the wet grass,
and in sinking waist deep into pools we had
become coated with mud. Mosquitoes in clouds
were settling upon us, and the normal chill of
the frigid jungle was approaching with the setting
sun. In trying to pick the most promising ground we
noticed that a grizzly had been through there
on a similar mission. We followed his foot
prints and soon discovered that his course was
good enough for us. We argued that this bear
was probably aiming for the blueberries above
tree line, or the ground rats at the top of Mt.
Yenlo, and after eating bacon and beans, as we
had for two weeks, we were ready to accept
bear diet or even bear steaks as a delightful
change. Miller and Stephen, with their guns always ready.

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 23
turned their eyes expectantly from side to side,
but they saw only the fool-hens. Bruin had good
sense; he knew where the ground was best, and,
better still, he led us to the only place where the
lakes could be crossed. As we reached the base of
the mountain the trail was lost and then we picked
a course through a dense forest to an elevation of
two thousand eight hundred feet; five hundred
feet more were made through grass five feet high,
and there on an old glacial shelf we pitched camp
at midnight.
Early on the morning of July 12th, we tumbled
out of our silk tent, and with a few roots we made
a fire over which we melted some snow for a cup
of tea, and then, over steep grassy slopes, we made
the final ascent to the top. From here we had a
most magnificent view of the easterly slope of the
Alaska Range, and of the vast expanse of fer
tile lowlands. It was a view of the least known
but probably the most picturesque area of
Alaska. Mt. Yenlo rises out of a wide expanse of low
marshy country. The mountain is a narrow ridge
running north and south with several peaks, the
highest point being the most northern one, about
five thousand feet. Our position was near the
centre at an elevation of four thousand two hun
dred feet.
The top of the mountain was covered with
short grass and some moss. The blueberries just
tmder the crest of the motmtain were not yet

24 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
ripe. Here and there were banks of winter
snow still resting in sunless places. Hundreds of
ground rats were darting about, and when there
was no wind we were tortured greatly with
mosquitoes. The grizzly had preceded us and dug out many
ground rats and our Indian boy followed his
haunts with visions of bear steaks. The mosqui
toes were so troublesome that we found it difficult
to manipulate our instruments, but soon there
came a breeze out of the long blue waters of Cook
Inlet which swept the little pests from our im
mediate neighbourhood. Taking advantage of this
little puff of air we set our cameras, levelled our
theodolite, and arranged the other instruments
for a round of observations. These observations
when worked out did not alter the essential fea
tures of the remarkable map made by Brooks and
Reabum, but we were able to fill in several blank
spots. We now saw that the Yentna River which we had
ascended divided its waters between the Skwentna
and the Kichatna arotmd three large islands.
These islands and indeed all of the lowlands looked
like carefully cultured parks. There were belts
of high spruce, birch, and cottonwood trees along
the water and inside of this dark green belt,
usually but a few hundred feet wide, was a
level area beautifully covered with a profuse
growth of light-green grass. Circles of alders and
willows and small lakes covered with pond lilies

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 25
made the park-like picture complete. No city
park could give a more beautiful and carefully
planned artistic effect than this impenetrable
wilderness to the east and west of Mount Yenlo.
Oior position was high and far enough away to
prevent a critical view, for in reality no tropical
jungles could be more dense than the chaos of
underbrush in the narrow belt of forest. The beau
tiful light-green meadows were marshes over which
man or beast could only travel with the greatest
difficulty. Later we learned to our hearts' content
that this enticing landscape so beautiful to look
upon offered us the tortures of countless devils
— ^mosquitoes, horseflies, gnats, and marshes, thick
underbrush, icy streams, and never-ceasing rains
all combined to make life thoroughly miserable
for us. In this misery we lost our earlier en
thusiasm for the birdseye view from Mount
Yenlo. Our admiration of the great Bolshoy group,
which as seen from that point is surely the most
remarkable range in North America, was height
ened from every other point of observation,
though we did not again get so comprehensive a
view. Sixty miles northward Mt. Foraker, a
double ridge, acted as a barrier to the westerly
drift of clouds. A little to the eastward, seventy-
five miles away, was Mt. McKinley, a huge beehive
loaded down with prodigious quantities of snow.
East of Mt. McKinley we saw a group of moun
tains from five thousand to ten thousand feet

26 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
high, separated by deep narrow gorges. Mt.
Russell is a sharp ice-sheeted pyramid piercing
the sky about seventeen miles south-west of Mt.
Foraker. About twenty miles below appeared
Mt. Dall, also a pyramid, mostly free of snow,
with the rock strata clearly marked though forty
miles away.
Midway between Mt. Dall and Mt. Russell we
noticed a cluster of sharp peaks east of the main
range with an average height of about eight
thousand feet. These I have named Bryant
Peaks in honour of my friend and co-worker,
Mr. Henry G. Bryant, Secretary of the Alpine
Club. The Yentna takes its head waters from the
glaciers in the vicinity of Mt. Dall, Mt. Russell,
and Bryant Peaks. In the rolling foothills south
east of Mt. McKinley we noticed a depression
which we afterwards learned was the bed of a
large glacial stream, which flowing easterly and
joining the streams from Ruth glacier empties
into the Chulitna River above the lower canyon.
This uncharted river is caUed by the Indians
Takasitna. The origin of the Skwentna River was easily
seen from Mt. Yenlo. Out of the high icy mount
ains west of Alger Peak and north of Mt. Estelle
the waters descended; uniting with those of the
opposite side they pour into a canyon; but a
few miles below, the waters rush out and spread
over a wide flat, narrowing again to a second

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 27
canyon below. The Skwentna is about eighty
miles long and three hundred feet wide near its
mouth, and is navigable with dories for about
forty miles. The last fifteen miles of the stream
flows through a low country to the Yentna. There
is placer gold and lignite coal found along this
river. The Kichatna, taking its first milky waters from
Fleishmann and Caldwell glaciers, takes a course
nearly parallel to that of the Skwentna, through a
deep gorge, and pours over a succession of rapids
almost its entire course, emptying into the Yentna
opposite Mt. Yenlo. The river is about fifty miles
long and about one hundred and fifty feet wide
near its mouth; navigable with dories for only
about ten miles. Gold is found at a point just
beyond navigation. Up the valley of the Kichatna
we saw continuous streams of great, fluffy, cumu
lus and nimbus clouds drifting through the
range to the arctic slopes beyond. To follow
these clouds with our dreams of mountaineering
conquests is the next adventure.
At breakfast we ate our last food. We expected
to get to the river for lunch, but it took us nearly
all day to get to the section of the mountain neces
sary for our observations. At lunch Stephen got
for us some ground rats, saying they were good
for white men but not for Indians. We tried
roasting them on a stick, and while we were not
enthusiastic as to their palatableness, we agreed
that rats were not bad. We descended in about

28 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
two hours and found Evan haunted by aU kinds
of spirits — saying it was no good for an Indian
to be left alone.
We ascended the Kichatna River late that
night, July 13th, so late that it proved too dark to
find a camping place. It was a welcome sound
when at eleven o'clock we heard voices and saw
the camp-fire of our companions on the south
bank of the river, in a swamp among spruce trees.
On the following morning we crossed the stream,
and found a better camping ground. Dunn re
ported much difficulty in crossing the low, wet
country. The hofses were frequently mired, and
both men and horses showed signs of a hard time.
After a day's rest the horses were started with
light packs up-stream along the soft ground of the
banks and over many slews to the first high ground.
The boat, with an increased load, followed. Our
camp on the evening of the 15th was on a foothill
about ten miles from the mouth of the river. From
here our Indians were sent back. They were good
faithful helpers, and we would gladly have taken
them farther, but they were eager to return to
their fishing grounds, and we could not have
carried food enough for them had they continued
with us.
Our route now lay westerly along the Kichatna
and this in many respects proved to be our most
difficult trail. Continued rains, thick underbrush,
rapid streams, and difficult slopes, as weU as horse
flies and mosquitoes, all combined to retard pro-

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 29
gress. Our horses soon failed in strength and were
so sick that we could march them only three hours
every second day. Their legs were very much
bruised and lacerated by the brush, their skins
so badly bitten by horse-fiies and mosquitoes
that they developed a kind of blood poisoning.
Our packer called the disease distemper, but I am
inclined to ascribe the entire trouble to direct
poisoning through open wounds. A somewhat
similar affection is commonly known among
the Indians and prospectors who are much
bitten. The scenery up the Kichatna was usually hidden
from us by the dense forests and thick clouds
which drifted into the pass. Occasionally we got
a glimpse of rounded mountains, three thousand
to four thousand feet high. To the south we
observed frequently high picturesque peaks in
unexplored areas. We longed to investigate this
region, but our main object compelled us to press
onward. As we rose out of the Kichatna we got
a glimpse of the first remarkable scenery at close
range — to the north, a great brown tongue of ice,
Caldwell Glacier, nearly two miles wide, with arms
reaching to unknown heights between steep, snowy
slopes. The water which comes over, under, and
through this glacier with a mad rush gives origin
to the Kichatna River. Before us was the broad,
green depression, with black, cloud-crested, slaty
peaks to both sides, six thousand feet high. This
valley leads to several passes through the Alaska

30 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
Range — one to the south, which Brooks discov
ered; another westerly named by Lieutenant
Heron, Simpson Pass; and there is probably still
another between the two. Before entering Simp
son Pass, we crossed a milky stream, which came
from a cavern leading to Fleishmann Glacier.
This glacier in size and surroundings is similar
to Caldwell and its drainage joins the sarae
river. It had rained almost incessantly from the time
we left Tyonok. The men were always soaked to
their skins, their boots were continually filled
with ice-water, and the horses were wet and
bleeding from wounds, but in spite of all this
we slowly pushed our pack train up the Kich
atna into the divide which had been crossed
by Heron and Brooks, camping among the
cottonwood trees near the head waters of the
Kichatna. In the pouring rain, on July 27th, we started the
pack train up the steep treeless slopes over which
the clouds pressed through the range. It was an
old gathering basin, part of a huge ice system
which once filled the valley of the Kichatna. Blue
berries were very abundant and so were signs of
bears. We saw one as we got well into the mount
ains, and we quickly had visions of bear steaks;
but the bear also saw us, and betook himself out
of range. Moose, caribou, and sheep tracks were
abundant. The tracks of Heron's pack train
where it crossed here five years previously were

INTO THE CHULITNA CANYONS

Cupyriglit. Igo4, by Harper and Brothers
GUIDING A HORSE ASHORE, COOK INLET

A KENAI WAIF

THE SUSITNA CHIEF

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 31
still visible and also those of Brooks's horses. We
camped at an altitude of about four thousand
feet along the northern side of the valley one mile
east of Fleishmann Glacier. It was a miserable
camp with rain and snow being driven by violent
gusts of wind, and with only small green willows
to burn, but the pass which we aimed to follow
had as yet not been located and we did not
care to travel through the frosty mists to the dan
gerous cliffs and overhanging glaciers as we broke
through the range.
During the brief periods of clearing we saw gaps
through the range and the deep blue of the Kus
kokwim skies beyond. To the southward was
Brooks's Rainy Pass, but we wanted a more
northerly route. To the northward there was a
promising gorge but this proved to be a blind pass
leading to a kind of ice-cap. In our scouting
about we saw a gap north of Brooks Pass which
offered a workable route but in seeking Heron's
trail we went close to the face of Fleishmann
Glacier, and from there was noted a deep cut
choked with clouds. We explored this and found
it to be Simpson Pass for which we had been
looking. With this happy news we returned to
our shivering colleagues at camp and ate an
extra ration of bacon and beans to celebrate our
luck. Very early on the following morning we gathered
the horses, who seemed to enjoy the frosty air
because of the freedom from mosquitoes, and

32 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
packed for the plunge into the Kuskokwim. We
crossed a huge ice bridge and turned sharply to
the west over a grassy meadow marking the divide,
into a little stream. This stream was hardly more
than a leaping jet of spring water, but its volume
increased quickly. Soon we descended to alders
and willows of moderate size, and there the stream
had grown to a vigorous brook and plunged into
a desperate looking canyon. We sought a trail
over the walls above the canyon and crossed from
side to side as required by the slopes. The splen
did spruce forests of the Kuskokwim were seen
soon after crossing the divide, and to get to these
was our day's mission, but the distance was de
ceptive; men and horses tumbled down slopes
all that day — ^until almost too tired to move
their feet. The march was continued for fifteen
hours without stopping to eat lunch. Late at
night as the sun was gliding northward we stum
bled into the broad expanse of the Rohn River.
It was a deep and swift glacial stream, but just
beyond were big green trees and on the steep
grassy slopes above hundreds of white mountain
sheep were seen grazing in groups. The possibil
ity of juicy sheep meat made us forget all the dis
comforts of the day.
Our camp here was better in its anticipation
than in its realisation. After various kinds of
gun luck we had but one old Winchester in working
order, and it did not shoot straight at long range.
The sheep were wise enough to be watchftil and

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 33
no meat was secured, but it was satisfactory in a
way just to see them wander at long range, over
snow-streaked mountains. Moose and bear tracks
were abundant but we were too hard pressed for
time to do much hunting. In the low country
fool-hens, ptarmigan, rabbits, and squirrels were
abundant. Food for the horses was very scarce in
this region near the Kuskokwim and the horses in
consequence greatly failed in strength. There
was, however, one great redeeming feature in the
life west of the range — ^this was the entire absence
of horsefiies and mosquitoes.
Two days' march brought us to the Kuskokwim
River, among mountains six thousand feet high,
appropriately named, because of their colour. Terra
Cotta Mountains. Here our lot was unfortunate.
The horses again failed because of the scarcity
of grass, and worse still, John Carroll, who had
been ailing for some time, found that he could no
longer keep up with the pack train, and returned,
taking with him one horse to carry his provisions.
Our party now consisted of five men and thirteen
horses; the horses each carrying about one hund
red pounds.
Just ahead of us at this time was Egypt Mount
ain, a pyramid of red sandstone; a little farther
north. Farewell Mountain; and beyond the great
green expanse the spruce covered valley of the
Kuskokwim . Soon after passing Egypt we bid fare
well to the Kuskokwim, and set a course above the
tree line north-easterly along the northern slope of

34 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
the Alaska Range. Here the grass improved ; blue
berries and game were abundant. Horses and
men were weU fed, and accordingly rapid pro
gress was made.

CHAPTER IV
Through the World's Best Big Game Country
WE NOW entered Nimrod's dreamland. To
the west were ten thousand square miles
of unexplored territory. We made no attempt to
press into this, but from our various high points
of outlook we could see that it was a low, rolling,
spruce-covered country. We noted that the south
fork of the Kuskokwim drains the western side of
the Alaska Range, as does the Yentna from the
east. Its waters, however, descend into the great
sluggish volume of the lower river and reach the
Bering Sea, by a broad, dangerous delta.
Our route was along the edge of this timber,
north-easterly parallel to the Alaska Range for
several hundred miles. To the east there was a
surprise at every turn. Range after range of
rounded foothills rose to beautiful snowy crests.
Great gorges and canyons with rushing milky
streams led to the tongues of unnamed glaciers.
Below a sub-arctic forest of mystery with its un
known small life and fur-clad animals; above the
paradise of the bear, moose, caribou, and sheep.
We had now, in spite of various trials and diffi
culties, gone about one half of the distance to Mt.
35

36 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENl
McKinley. In an air line this distance would
probably be one hundred and fifty miles, but in
reality we had covered more than three hundred and
fifty miles over the worst kind of trail imaginable.
Our outfit had been wet constantly and our food
was beginning to show the effects of the bad
weather and bad treatment. To the present we
had secured very little game. Birds and fish, it
is true, were abundant, but as a rule we had not
the time to hunt or fish. Our hopes, however,
were good, for now we were about to enter a region
where the signs of large game were such that we
must stumble over fresh meat.
We turned our backs to the Kuskokwim, with
its famine of grass, to the great evergreen expanse
beyond Egypt and Farewell mountains on the
morning of August 2d. An icy wind followed us,
but we soon entered a dense forest. At noon we
broke through thick brush and came out upon the
wide flats of Jones River. Here we found some
grass, and though we had made but a short march
our horses were too hungry to travel farther.
This camp was particularly agreeable to both men
and horses. The animals had their first good
feed for several days, and with an abundance of
blueberries and partridges we too had a good din
ner. In exploring above camp we saw game
signs everywhere, but as yet nothing big had got
ten in range of our inefficient gun.
Rising higher and closer to the range we crossed
several dry, barren ridges, and descended to the

SUSITNA MOTHER AND CHILD

THE IMPRINT OF A HARD LIFE
A Kenai squaw said to be more than loo years old

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 37
southern fork of the DiUinger River. Here we
secured a young brown bear, and gloried in bear
steaks, bacon and beans, and delicious brown bis
cuits baked in the reflector. As the sun sank into
the burning gold of the Bering Sea that night we
were tired but enthusiastic as to the outcome of
our undertaking.
A quantity of bear meat was packed as we
started on the crisp morning of August 5th. The
weather since crossing the range was much better
than along the eastern side of the mountains,
though a few clouds were still pressing from the
east through narrow gaps between snow peaks,
and these poured brief but severe rain showers
over us. The temperature was usually about 50°
and the humidity increased rapidly as we went
northward. We were now above brush; the
ground was hard but the land became more and
more irregular as we pressed towards the Tonzona
River. Steep climbs and disheartening descents
were necessary to keep to a good general north
easterly course.
From the Jones River to the DiUinger River
we crossed a very irregular country over the de
pressions of low rolling foothills into marshy gul
lies. As we neared the DiUinger we passed through
a beautiful green expanse, spotted by many small
clear lakes, and here our scent for game became
keener than ever. Many reported sights of moose
proved to be iUusions, but game trails crossed
everywhere, and finally as the pack train rose

38 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
over a mountain Printz hurriedly came back to
the lead horse for the rifle and, while men and
horses remained motionless, then advanced behind
a row of rocks. There were four or five shots in
rapid succession and then rising to spot the luck
we saw that a big biown bear had fallen and we
thought him dead, yet when Printz advanced
knife in hand to get his skin the bear quickly picked
himself up and vanished in the brush where we
dared not follow.
Our camp that night was on an elevated bench
above the lakes. Having made a long march we
were too tired to do much hunting, but we watched
the shores of the blue lakes with a hungry interest.
The howl of the wolf, the bark of the foxes, and
the giggle of the fool-hens and ptarmigans made
the night air ring with weird noises which the
horses did not relish. Our route during the next
day took us over fresh moose trails which had been
trampled to the depth of two feet below the level.
We had lunch in a big patch of blueberries at the
side of a river somewhat larger than Jones River.
The stream rises out of a great gap through the
range which seemed to be a pass for the moose
and caribou to the east. Taking the drainage of
the many small lakes it flows westerly, emptying
into the Kuskokwim about one mile north of the
mouth of Jones River.
Rising out of the DiUinger we saw several cari
bou and tried them with our rifles, but they only
shook their heads and ran gracefully into the upper

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 39
valleys. Later on, however, while crossing a
nameless stream beyond the DiUinger, we saw a
pair of horns winding among the big boulders up
stream and making an air line for our pack train.
No one would take the gun for they had aU tried
and failed. Printz insisted that I try a shot; I
did so, dropped the animal and thereby established
confidence in the old Winchester, and incidentally
my own reputation as a marksman was made.
During the rest of the trip, with new confidence in
the gun, our larder was kept supplied; but I did
not again risk my reputation as a shot.
Over mountains ever higher, and slopes contin
uously more difficult, we pressed on for the Ton
zona River. The weather was clear and warm
and game was in evidence on every side, but now
we secured it with such ease that the pack train
was seldom interrupted in its march. Above us
were long lines of white sheep moving in sunny
patches of new green grass, below herds of caribou
moving up the banks of small streams for the new
grass in the uplands.
Late in the afternoon of August Sth, we rose
to a saddle at an altitude of about five thousand
feet and from this place we saw for the first time,
from the west, the distinctive peaks of the main
range. Mounts Russell and Dall were easily recog
nised from the score of lesser peaks. To the south
of Mt. Dall we noted several wide gaps out of
which pour the head waters of the DiUinger and
the Tonzona rivers. Clouds drifted through these

40 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
gaps as they did through Simpson Pass and Brooks
Pass. There seemed to be signs of good passes
from the Tonzona to the Yentna.
As the sun poured its parting rays on the shining
spires of Mt. Russell we rose to a dome-shaped
mountain and beyond saw for the first time the
broad expanse of the gravel bars of the Tonzona.
The great low cuts through the mountains, making
a canal for the clouds from the east, were now seen
to better advantage. Beyond the Tonzona was
an easy rise to a table-land and along the edge of
this were huge boulders giving the impression of
the houses of a big city. This table-land was the
shelf of an old glacier which extends to and be
yond Mt. McKinley. We descended very quickly
along a steep slope winding around cliffs into a
small stream which led us into the big cottonwood
and spruce forests, to the side of the Tonzona.
From this camp we saw our first moose. It
crossed the stream near camp and rising to a green
hummock within a few hundred yards above us
from there looked down upon the stir of horses
and men with evident curiosity. We did not need
meat and could not carry his great spread of homs
as a specimen, and therefore the animal was not
molested. East of the range the camp life was a torture.
Continual rains, hungry mosquitoes, dense wet
brush, and frequent icy fords made our daily ad
ventures so difficult that we had neither the time
nor the disposition to dwell on the few pleasant

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 41
phases of the boimdless wUderness through which
we forced a traU. But along the northern foothills
all this changed. The weather was good, the mos
quitoes were absent, the whole aspect of life was
better, and with all this was the happy environment
of a new world of big, wUd animals roaming about
undisturbed by man.
In this northland, where dusk and dawn run
together, men get into the real swing of nature
and close to each other's hearts at the camp-fire.
There is something about the crackle of the fire,
the inspiration of the blaze, and the long frosty
nights of twilight, which bares the breast of each
camper to the scrutiny of his companions. At the
club a man may be a good fellow superficially, with
the veneer of a make-believe spirit of human
brotherhood over a selfish centre of commonplace
discord, but in the sub-arctic wilderness this is
impossible. Naked manliness under togs that
are stripped and dried at the evening round-up
with the aroma of the spruce and the music of the
forest wilds, is the ultimate necessity of every adept.
If a man has been an artist, with system and
order in the daily routine of his home life, he is sure
to get a large measure of admiration from his com
rades, for he gathers and disseminates bits of light
that dispel the fatigue of the hard day's trail; but
the haphazard chap who has run the life of a liter
ary hack bewails his misfortunes, makes copy,
secretes his observations of interesting things, and
makes life tiresome by his egotism. As a discloser

42 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
of manly character the camp-fire surpasses the
confession booth.
On the morning of August 9th, we packed the
decreasing loads on the horses and cut trail through
a wide belt of large trees. The Tonzona was here
divided into a number of rushing streams. For
each crossing it was necessary to mount the horses,
and we had become quite expert at this kind of
fording. All our things were packed in water
proof bags, and when about to ford we would make
a running jump, alighting behind the packs. If
the prospective ford proved a swim, as was often
the case, we held to the pack ropes as best we could.
In crossing the coffee-coloured waters of the Ton
zona two streams were found to be very deep, and
at one of these, after losing considerable time seek
ing a place to ford, we at last plunged in for a swim.
Men and horses were carried down -stream a long
way. Two animals turned over in midstream
and their riders struck out for the shore, leaving
the horses to follow. It was a warm, sunny day,
but this swim in glacial waters made us feel lUce
travellers en route to the Pole.
With garments soaked to our skins and with
shoes full of water we continued the march . There
was not time to change, nor had we the extra cloth
ing, for these fords were so frequent that being wet
was by this time regarded as a part of the game
of getting to Mt. McKinley. Indeed we had
adapted ourselves to this semi-aquatic system of
travelling. We wore no hats, only very light

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 43
clothing, and short shoe packs. After a swim
we shook ourselves and hurried along to warm
up and dry out by the increased action of the
march. Men will get used to this kind of life after
awhile and enjoy it, but in the schooling one hears
a great deal of sulphurous language.
Climbing out of the Tonzona we rose about two
thousand feet over the edge of an old moraine
among giant boulders. Here were extensive
patches of large, delicious blueberries and also
bright green spots of new grass. Men and horses
with equal zest bent to the fruits of the soil. After
half an hour the horses were rounded up and
with grunts of mingled satisfaction and protest
the ascent was continued to the great treeless plain
above. On this grassy expanse, looking over the
numerous lakes of the lower plains, we saw many
caribou, feeding with the contentment of cattle
on our Western prairies.
To get to moose, caribou, or mountain sheep was
now only a matter of shifting the line of march.
The best and most direct travelling was over this
glacial shelf at heights between three and four
thousand feet. Travelling thus, caribou were
sufficiently abundant to supply our larder without
interrupting the long marches. In descending
to the timber line along the head-waters of the
streams we saw moose. When making a cut be
hind the first foothills we saw great bands of mount
ain sheep, while everywhere there were fresh signs
of bear. Here, wandering with primeval freedom,

44 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
were the largest of the big game animals. Surely,
it is the finest game preserve in aU the world.
It behooves us to protect these splendid animals
against the cmel slaughter which blots the history
of wUd life in the past decade. Game preservation
is too long a subject to take up here, but my ad
miration for the noble creatures that run to un
troubled joys along the west of this range impels a
word of caution. Some game law must be framed
for this undisturbed wilderness will soon be spotted
with the blood of innocent creatures to satisfy the
murderous lust of man's instinct to kill. The pre
sent game laws of Alaska are a farce in their effect.
They favour the Indian and the prospector but
permit the wholesale extermination of the game.
The only result of this law is to keep big game
hunters out of that territory and to make a closed
field for the Indian and the prospector to slaughter
at will.
There is room for a good deal of discussion on
the relative merits of allowing special privileges
to the Indian, the prospector, or the nimrod. The
spirit of the law and the generally accepted theory
is to curb the outside hunter and allow the native
a free hand with minor restrictions. This theory
in Alaska is a misfit. The Indian about Cook
Inlet and the Alaska Range is to-day, and always
has been, a fish eater. He secures his yearly sup
ply of salmon with such ease and despatch that
for his own use he does not seriously trouble the
game. It is only since the advent of the white

URSUS MIDDENDORFFI
The big brown bear of the eastern slopes of the Alaska Range

From a drawing by Belmore Browne

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 45
man with rapid-fire guns and a market for skins
that he has taken to the hunt of big game. The
•ultimate object of this chase is easily gotten rev
enue, not meat. The prospector with a privilege
paramount to that of the Indian is not more worthy
of free meat. I admire the brave type of manhood
displayed by the prospector in his quest for gold
in the difficult northlands, but he follows his calling
with a purely selfish lust for gold. Wealth secured,
he goes to other climes to spend it. Is it not
enough that Alaska should allow him to carry
away its mineral riches? Why should he have
a free entrance to nature's larder ?
Now as to the nimrod, let us examine his claim
to consideration. He starts on an expedition
which, physically, is much like that of the gold
digger, but he does it on a larger scale. He hires
a corps of men, takes a large outfit, spends thou
sands of dollars, not to kill, as is the common im
pression, but to enjoy wild life at its best. His
return is a trophy for two, a collection of pictures,
and a note-book full of memoranda, all of which
is a permanent record of use to future generations.
The nimrod's claim to consideration is at least as
good as that of the Indian and prospector, and the
law in my judgment should be so reconstructed.
There is another phase to this subject from the
standpoint of real and not fancied protection.
The hunter is a lover of animal life, his destruction
is limited to a few males with large heads, which
does not seriously affect reproduction; while the

46 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
Indian and the prospector slaughter indiscrim
inately, females and young, and aU living things.
Furthermore the hunter is usually an explorer,
making contributions to the annals of natural
history and geography. His eye is trained to use
ful observations and the results of his adventures
are published. Publicity is the best remedy for
any abuses and where the hunter enters the
gross infraction of game laws cannot remain a
guarded secret as it is in Alaska to-day.
The present law prohibits the exportation of
heads and skins. The hunting season is limited
and the number of animals allowed each individual
is stated. Professional hunters are absolutely
barred by the first provision, and so far the law
is a success. But the exclusion of the friend of
the game animals makes the lot easy for the local
destroyers. Near the head waters of the Skwentna
River there are thousands of square feet covered
with moose hair to the depth of three feet. Here
Indians have massacred hundreds of moose in the
deep snows, taking only the skins for souvenir
moccasins, leaving heaps of heads and tons of
meat to rot. Kenai Peninsula, right under the
eye of men paid to enforce the law, is a briUiant
example of the working of the present law. Moose
and sheep meat is ever)rwhere exposed for sale
at aU times of the year, and all over the Peninsula
one finds many magnificent heads strewn about in
the wilderness. At Seattle, Wash., Alaska game
heads are on sale at reduced prices. These heads

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 47
I suppose were transported by aerial navigation,
for the steamship companies rigidly exclude heads
from returning freight.
It would seem reasonable that the best way to
prevent the present wanton destruction of game
in territory bordering on Mt. McKinley should be a
law which would be fair to all — a law providing for
a short open season, prohibiting the destruction
of females and their young, and allowing the
hunter to take out his heads. A very high license
should be charged and efficient game wardens
should be kept in the field. The Indians and the
prospectors, the greatest enemies to the game,
should be carefully watched, for if these are
allowed to shoot every moving thing as they do
now, any law, however weU its framing is in
theory, in practice must prove a farce.

CHAPTER V
Up the Slopes of Mt. McKinley from the
South-West. — ^The First Defeat
WITH an abundance of fresh meat for the
men and good grass for the horses and
a great undulating treeless country before us,
long marches were possible. On the evening of
August nth, we rose to a bluff as the setting sun
softened the great waving sea of evergreen forests,
extending into the unknown world of the Kuskok
wim. Along our line of march the land now
became much more irregular. The glacial rivers
as we neared the big mountains increased in
numbers and size, and the tree line ascended
somewhat higher along the streams into the
foothills. Heron Glacier was noted just below,
pouring huge quantities of ice and rock and
water out of the great gold- fringed clouds which
hung on the lower slopes of Mt. Foraker, while
its three peaks of ice were softened by a warm
afterglow. From points near here we got the
first glimpse of the top of Mt. McKinley. Its
contour was a surprise to us for it indicated a
double system of peaks not shown from the
east or the west. We could see only the upper

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 49
four thousand feet over the ice-crested shoulder
of Mt. Foraker, a double system of gable roofs
placed side by side with the eastern apex slightly
higher. The slopes were shingled by plates of
ice which were continuous with the surface of a
glacier carrying the drainage down from the
median depression. Here was the roof of the
continent; the prize of our conquest, seemingly
within grasp, and our ambition, cooled by fifty-
one days of wet feet, warmed to a new enthusiasm.
We pitched camp on the side of the vigorous
stream which rushes out of the grottos of Heron
Glacier. Through the waving leaves of the big
cottonwood trees we watched the veiling and
unveiling of the polished cliffs of Mt. Foraker,
with its awe-inspiring cornices chiselled in graceful
curves of alabaster. As the beans boiled and the
aroma of the bacon and fresh bread drifted with
the chill of twilight the echoes of the explosive
noises of Heron Glacier sent a thrUl of the arctic
battlefield to our hearts.
A march of three days over whaleback ridges
ploughed by vanished glaciers, took us to a point
on a tributary of the Tatlathna River, about
fourteen miles north-west of the crest of Mt.
McKinley. Our camp was placed beside a foaming
stream at an altitude of twenty-six hundred feet,
along the edge of the last wiUows. A mile below
we noted the zigzag of the upper line of the
spruce forest which we had skirted for two hundred
mUes. To the east a succession of glacial benches

50 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
rose graduaUy for about five miles to an altitude
of four thousand feet and there began the sharp
pyramidal foothills which are characteristic of
this area. In wandering about the camp we saw a
great deal of interesting life; mosquitoes and flies
were absent, but bumble bees attacked us several
times. There were squirrels and marmots, and
the bears were so numerous that we never felt
safe without firearms at hand. An occasional
wolf- track was seen and one wolf was bold enough
to come right into our camp. Caribou grazed
about like domestic cattle, and moose were always
expected in the wfllows. Mountain sheep were
more common in the regions north-east and south
west of Mt. McKinley. Perhaps the most re
markable bit of life we saw here was a famUy of
black foxes following us at long range like dogs,
and retreating to their earth mounds when we took
up the chase.
WhUe here a violent storm swept our camp and
we were kept rather busy in holding up the tents
and nursing a willow fire. The stream rose with
alarming swiftness. Our tents were on a flat
not more than three feet above the foaming
stream. When we turned into our sleeping bags
that night we felt anxious about that rising
stream. Shainwald had such premonitions of a
coming flood that he devised a safety signal.
Placing a smaU log at a point near our level he
attached to it a rope and this rope was taken
in his tent and fastened to his toe. The wind

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 51
blew violently that night and the rain poured
down in torrents. Just before dawn Shainwald
felt a jerk at his toe. He quickly called all, but
we were already lying in pools and when we
arose we stumbled into cold water. There
was no great danger at this time but in the haste
and bustle of moving camp to higher ground we
were thoroughly awakened.
Our position was particularly favourable for a
promising attack upon the south-west ridge of
the big mountain. Before beginning the climb
we decided to spend two days in rest and final
preparation. In fifty-four days we had marched a tortuous
course of five hundred mUes through swamps and
forests, over glacial streams, up and down mount
ain sides, through a trackless country. We had
travelled afoot while the horses carried our
supplies. In this march we had hoped to get to
the mountain by the first of August, but had
been delayed a great deal through the iUness of
the horses during the early part of the trip. The
season was now advancing rapidly; storms were
beginning to pour down from Mt. McKinley with
a great deal of rain; the temperature ranged from
45° to 60° F. and the glacial streams were much
swollen. StUl, our position seemed so favourable,
and the ascent of the mountain appeared so easy
from our point of observation, that we felt certain
of reaching the summit within a few days.
Our days of rest were spent in making final pre-

52 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
parations for the alpine work. We had carried
with us a sufficient quantity of hard biscuits for the
mountain ascent, but these biscuits had been so
much in water and were so often crushed by
accidents to the pack horses that they were
worthless. We were now compelled to devise
some kind of bread for the high altitude, because
there bread could not be baked. It occurred to
me that we might bake our bread in the usual
way with the tin reflector, and then toast and dry
it, after the manner of zweiback. For this
purpose I detaUed Dunn and MiUer to go down
the river a few mUes where they could procure
spruce wood, and within twenty-four hours they
had successfully baked sufficient bread, and
toasted and dried it thoroughly for mountain work.
This I think is a new thing in mountaineering
and it certainly proved exceUent for our purposes.
Out mountaineering equipment was very simple
and extremely light. As food for each man we al
lowed pemmican, il pounds per day; zweiback,
4 oz. per day; sweetened condensed milk, 4 oz. per
day; and some tea. We had also a small quantity
of cheese and erbswurst; both of these, however,
proved unsatisfactory. Pemmican, bread, tea, and
sweetened condensed mUk seemed to satisfy all
our wants. For fuel we had wood alcohol to be
burned in aluminum stoves, and also petroleum
to be burned in a Primus stove. The latter proved
by far the more successful. We carried no dishes
except a few cups, spoons, pocket knives, and one

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 53
kettle, in which we melted snow to get water
for our tea.
There was nothing unusual about our clothes,
except a large eider-down robe (the down adhering
to the skin of the birds) . The robe was so arranged
that it could be made into either a sleeping bag
or an overcoat. Our tent was made of sUk, after
a special pattern which I devised for polar work.
It was large enough for three men and weighed
three pounds. Each man carried a regular alpine
axe, and in his rucksack he was to carry his
sleeping-bag, glacier rope made of horsehair,
provisions, and a general outfit for a ten days'
stay in the mountains. This weighed forty
pounds. Mt. McKinley presented a formidable face from
our camp. The upper ten thousand feet were,
during the day, usuaUy wrapped in dark clouds.
The best view was obtained when the sun was
lowest, and by far the most impressive view was
during the long hours of the blue twUight. In
the bright light the mountain seemed dwarfed.
The foothUls, the glacial depressions, and the
striking irregularities were then run together into
a great heap of mingled snow and rock, but the
feebler play of light at dawn and sunset brought
out all of the sharp edges, the great cliffs, the
depressions, the lesser peaks, and the difficult
slopes. To the north-east there was a long ridge
with a gradual ascent, but this ridge seemed
impossible as a route to the summit because of

54 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
several lesser peaks, which appeared to bar the
way. To the south-west there was a more promis
ing ridge, also interrupted by a spur, which
however we hoped to get around. The western
face of the great peak between these ridges, above
twelve thousand feet, was an almost uninterrupted
cliff of pink granite, so steep that snow could not
rest upon it. Hence the only way to the summit
from the west as we understood it at that time
was along the south-westerly ridge.
Aiming for this ridge, we moved our entire camp
with the horses along the southern bank of the river
to a point on the main stream where it came from
a huge moraine. Crossing here, we ascended into
a narrow valley four thousand feet, and there
pitched our camp. Here the grass was abundant,
and the outlook for an easy ascent was good, but
the rain came down incessantly. On the following
day, with five horses, the entire party pushed
over a series of moraines to a glacier which started
from an amphitheatre. The ice travelling was
quite difficult for the horses; deep snow and
numerous crevasses made the task tedious and
very dangerous. We pitched our camp at an
altitude of seven thousand three hundred feet
on the glacier near a part of the wall of the
amphitheatre to the south-west, the only place
where the slope permitted an ascent. During
the night a great deal of snow fell, and on the
following morning we left our horses, and in the
snowstorm ascended this slope to eight thousand

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 55
three hundred feet, only to find that farther
progress was absolutely cut off by a chasm the
cliffs of which we afterward learned led down with
a sheer drop of two thousand feet into the bed
of Peters Glacier. The horses were sent to the
last camp while we remained on the glacier another
night, and explored the area for a route out of
the gathering basin; but the only outlet was
toward Mt. Foraker.
Defeat for our first attempt was now evident.
There was no way over the gap in the shoulder upon
which we had risen. We were, however, able from
here to get an occasional peep between the clouds
into a new world of great action and sublime beau
ty. The remarkable glacier on which we camped
marked the beginning of the first of a series of
interesting discoveries. Its gathering basin was a
crescent in shape, about five miles wide, and walled
by frowning cliffs from two thousand to three
thousand feet high. Small overhanging glaciers
and never ceasing streams of avalanches carried
the condensation down from above while a con
stant train of clouds descended into the gap,
dropping cargoes of snow. Thus the output of the
glacier was continuously augmented. The stream
was about seven miles long. By right of explora
tion to us fell the privilege of assigning a name,
and accordingly we inscribed in honour of our
coUeague "Shainwald Glacier."
Rising over a low divide out of Shainwald
Glacier toward Mt. Foraker we saw two other

56 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
glaciers with streams about one mUe wide running
paraUel to each other. The first came from a sys
tem of snowfields from the Mt. McKinley slopes.
The second came from an amphitheatre of Mt.
Foraker. Both these glaciers had large quantities
of black moraine uniformly strewn over them.
This moraine we believed to be slate, therefore
differing from the northern glaciers where the
moraine was granite. These glaciers from above
appeared to offer good routes for an attack upon
either mountain, but we had not with us sufficient
supplies to prolong the siege over a circuitous
route. We therefore descended out of a region of
perennial snows into one of perpetual rains at
four thousand feet. The base camp was quickly
taken down and packed and then we started for
the golden lowlands where the sun was seen to
shine as we looked between the clouds. Rising to a
commanding foothill southward we were able to
see that there would be great difficulties in rising
out of the lower country to the glaciers that looked
promising from above, so we now decided that
the few remaining days of the closing season would
be better spent by an ascent over the ice of
Hanna Glacier.
In this sudden descent from eight thousand
feet to three thousand feet we noted a languid,
feverish feeling, a weakening as if convalescent
from a serious Ulness. We soon learned to accept
this descent of spirits with the descent of slopes
as an aftermath of every climb.

CHAPTER VI
Against the Western Face of Mt. McKinley.
— ^The Second Defeat
IN SHIFTING camp twenty-five mUes from a
line at right angles to the south-west of the
base to a similar line to the north-west base we spent
two pleasant days in travel and exploration. This
march over a rolling treeless country gave us time
and opportunity to study the face of the great
mountain. Looking at the peak in the light of our
first experience the magnitude of our task was
more and more impressed upon us. Making a
camp in the edge of the last spruce, within a mile
of the moraine of Hanna Glacier, at an altitude
of three thousand feet, we made preparations for
our next assault upon the ice-armoured slopes.
Mt. McKinley as seen from this camp presents
a stupendous sheen of granite cliffs and ice- walls
The foothills rise out of an old glacial shelf at four
thousand feet elevation, and about ten miles from
the crest of the saddle which makes the double
peak of the west. The first hills are rounded by
glaciation, but these are quickly succeeded by a
few pyramidal peaks scraping the lower clouds
at six thousand feet. These foothills lead to
57

58 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
Roosevelt Ridge, which extends along nearly the
whole western face of the main mountain and is
separated from it by Hanna Glacier. Ordinarily
the clouds sweep the slopes from six thousand to
twelve thousand feet, and thus blot out the upper
line of Roosevelt Ridge and the huge gap made
by Hanna Glacier between it and Mt. McKinley,
giving the great uplift the appearance of gradual
easy slopes. But the cloudless skies of night and
moming alter the prospect to one of sharp con
tours, interrupted arStes, and successive cliffs of
rock and ice. Roosevelt Ridge, which has an
altitude of seven thousand feet in the north-west,
gradually rises to twelve thousand feet in the south
west. Its crests are blanketed by sheets of ice
with huge cornices and overhanging glaciers to
the west, and to the east many tributary glaciers
carry ice-tongues into Hanna Glacier.
With our mountain equipment and some fire
wood packed on four horses we crossed the glacial
stream not far from where it rushed out of the
great green caverns of the face of Hanna Glacier.
The waters boiled among large granite boulders
freighted from the heights by the movement
of the glacier, and after tumbling over widening
bars of glacial silt, the stream narrowed, plunged
into a canyon, and disappeared in the great green
expanse. This river makes the McKinley fork
of the Kantishna, which carries the northern Mt.
McKinley drainage to the Tanana, en route to the
Yukon and the Bering Sea.

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 59
On the north shore we found signs of a fresh
camp. It was the first signs of human life which
we had seen for more than two months. Leaving
the horses to graze among stunted willows we
examined the camp carefully. We had about
decided that it was an Indian camp when a wrap
per of a kodak film was found. We were not pre
pared to believe that Indians carried cameras,
and sought diligently for some other signs. A
pair of blue overalls and some woollen socks were
found, which even yet was not conclusive. In the
ground we saw the footprints of a mule, and then
we concluded it was a railroad survey party. This
was agreeable news, for it relieved the tension
of our shortage of supplies. The main privation
from which we suffered at this time was the lack
of salt. Early in the campaign the horses located
the salt and ate it during a single night. This did
not interfere with the alpine work; in the climb
ing diet salt was rigorously excluded because of its
faculty to produce thirst where water could not
be easily obtained, but in the lower country, with
out bacon, and without salt, fresh meat and beans
did not promise a relish for our enjoyment. Under
a bush Printz picked up an old rusty covered tin
can. Raising it for a better examination it was
found to be full of gray granules, which we
took to be arsenic, a part of a bird-collector's
outfit. It might be salt, but who would taste it?
If salt it was worth its weight in gold, but we had
no chemical way of testing it. The relative chemi-

6o TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
cal qualities of arsenic and salt were heatedly
discussed, and finally some one took the risk of
arsenical poisoning by putting some on his tongue,
ready to spit it out quickly. With a broad grin
he exclaimed, "It is salt!" and everybody at once
shouted for joy. This camp we later leamed was
made by Judge Wickersham.
Taking a course parallel to Hanna Glacier we
soon found splendid caribou traUs leading in a
straight line to the base of Mt. McKinley through
the gap forced by the glacier. Blueberries were
abundant, but they were frozen and those of us
who ate them in quantities developed a serious
form of indigestion. The grass had a similar effect
upon the horses, as it was also frozen. Following
the same trail along the glacier for eight miles we
pitched camp on the evening of August 24th within
a mile of the base of the frowning cliffs of the main
mountain. Here the glacier made a sharp turn.
and we now saw for the first time that the huge
stream of ice swept the whole north-west face of
Mt. McKinley and this stream as a highway offered
the best route to the top.
To the east of Hanna Glacier Mt. McKinley
rises in an alternate series of precipitous granite
cliffs and overhanging glaciers for fifteen thousand
feet; and to the west in similar cliffs and glaciers
Roosevelt Ridge, a wide imposing line of mountains
from seven thousand to twelve thousand feet high,
extends for twenty-five miles parallel to Mt. McKin
ley. Below Roosevelt Ridge to the west are three

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 6i
rows of foothills over which there is a successive
descent to the lower glacial plain at three thousand
feet. As we were pitching the tents we noticed a big
grizzly bear on our trail. He leisurely wandered
over the bars of the glacial stream to the little
green island where we aimed to make our base
camp. We had with us plenty of fresh meat, so
we did not need his carcass, nor did we want his
skin, but we did not like his boldness nor his
familiarity. The great quivering mass expanded to alarm
ing proportions as he neared the camp, and his
funny dance on his clumsy hind legs, while his
f orepaws waved an evident desire for a handshake,
was not at all funny to us who were trying to
bluff the bear by putting up a brave front and a
firm stand without firearms. We had only ice-
axes as weapons of defence, and as the bear rose
to his haunches the second time we backed up to
a boulder, from the top of which we expected to
defend our skins; but the bear was considerate:
after eying each one separately, and then taking
a side glance at the horses, he rose, sniffed the
air, and turned into a great basin for the highlands,
from which he watched the curl of the smoke of
our camp-fires, while the aroma of caribou steaks
kept his nose pointed. Our sleep that night was
troubled by bear thoughts and the thunders of
avalanches. From this camp we started for the upper slopes

62 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
with the climbing equipment packed in the ruck
sacks. Under heavy packs we crossed the minia
ture mountains of broken stone to a narrow
tongue of ice which ran wedge-shape down the
centre of the glacier. The lower ten miles of this
glacier are completely buried under an irregular
cover of moraine. The travelling was extremely
difficult over the glacier, though not particularly
dangerous. The temperature was near the freez
ing point. There was bright sunshine on the
higher slopes, but into the glacial gap drifted
frequent clouds, and under these it was dull and
gloomy. Toward night the clouds drifted over
us so frequently that we found ourselves in an
almost continuous snowstorm. Icy winds made a
whirl of snow through which it was difficult to
spot the crevasses. At the lower drop of a great
s6rac we separated. Dunn and Miller returned
to the base camp, whUe Printz joined me in a des
perate attempt to find a way through the maze
of gaps and pinnacles. There was no way over
the top, so we descended into a great blue cut,
and from this we ascended into other crevasses,
foUowing one after another to the better ice
above the s6rac. At an altitude of eight thou
sand feet we rose above the settling clouds and
burst into the arctic world, with all its glory
of glitter and frost, and continuing our march
through deep snow to an altitude of nine
thousand feet we pitched the silk tent on the
glacier within two miles of the south-west arete,

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 63
upon the ascent of which our future fortune
depended. The temperature was ten degrees below the
freezing point and the bitterness of midwinter
was in the air. We heard water far down in the
crevasses, and determined to find some if possi
ble, for we were too thirsty to wait for snow to
melt. Furthermore, we desired to save the pre
cious fuel which we had carried thousands of miles
for use in this cloud-world. Opening out our
sleeping-bags, we drew them as robes around our
shoulders, and with a tight line we sought for
water along the crevasses. Under a circle of new
ice near the tent we found a miniature lake, and
from it we first filled up, and then our aluminum
can was filled. In the tent we made our robes into
bags, crept in, and started the alcohol lamp and
fried caribou steaks. Later tea was served. Out
side an arctic blast rushed down the glacier, and
avalanches from every side made the night air
ring. There was discomfort and real danger at
hand, but we were warm and at ease within the
sUk walls of our tent.
Dunn and Shainwald were expected to meet
us here on the day following, but owing to some
delay they did not come. We explored the upper
reaches of the glacier and outlined the line of at
tack which we aimed to pursue in the next climb.
All glaciers in the Alaskan Range have a high
gathering basin, out of which descends the first
ice which starts the frozen stream with its freight

64 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
from cloud and peak. There are two general
systems in which all of these basins may be classed.
In the breaks through the range, or in the passes
between high peaks along the range where clouds
are driven through gaps, moisture is condensed
in large quantities, and snow-fields form as a
result. These snow-fields sometimes make one
general basin for several glaciers, but usually
there is a separate field or a plurality of fields
for each stream. The other type starts from an
amphitheatre, or a chain of amphitheatres, over
the cliffs of which the clouds are interrupted by
still higher slopes. Hanna Glacier belongs to this
latter type. Its main amphitheatre is in the south
west corner of Mt. McKinley, and from it, at nine
thousand five hundred feet, the train moves around
the polished granite, following irregularly be
tween Mt. McKinley and Roosevelt Ridge, taking
avalanches, tributary glaciers, and direct cloud
deposits in its course for twenty-five miles.
From a point near our camp we heard ava
lanche after avalanche thunder down the great
slopes, and we felt the glacier under us shake as if
moved by an earthquake. This noise of rock- and
snow-slides and the quiver of the earth are char
acteristic of Mt. McKinley. We heard or felt them
everywhere near the mountain, and the danger
from this source was very great.
On August 29th we made our first assault on
the slope of the main peak, selecting again the
south-western ridge, which from every observation

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 65
of the mountain offered the only chance to gain the
summit. In Hanna Glacier our altitude was eight
thousand feet. We began the ascent in the track
of a harmless avalanche of soft snow. This gave
us a good slope for a few hundred feet, and then we
were forced to cut steps up a slope ranging from
forty to sixty degrees. Our greatest difficulty was
not the work of chopping steps in the ice, but the
effort of removing fourteen inches of soft snow
before we found trustworthy ice upon which a
safe footing could be made. Slowly but steadily
we advanced against a freezing wind charged
with drift snow, untU the setting sun forced us to
seek a camping place. We found nowhere a level
place large enough for our tent, so we were com
pelled to dig away snow and cut down the ice for
a tent flooring. This camp was at nine thousand
eight hundred feet. The day following the slopes
were steeper and the difficulty of cutting steps
greater, but we rose to eleven thousand feet, where
we were again compelled to cut a camping floor
to keep from rolling down three thousand feet.
Camp was pitched in a hole cut out of the steep
icy slopes; we nestled closely to get warm under
eider-duck skins, and over hard blue ice. A
frosty blast of wind was blowing hard crystals of
snow against the sUk waUs of the tent, making
a metaUic noise. There were four of us as tightly
pressed together as sardines in a box. From each
there came a cone of breath which rose in curious
circles to the top of the tent, and there the moisture

66 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
was frosted, falling in beautiful crystals only to
add misery to our condition. All at once some
one who had peeped out exclaimed, "My God!
look at that!" and as quickly as we could get
something around us we all went out to see the
thing which stopped the jerky breath of our emo
tional companion. It was certainly a view to
enrapture a mountaineer, but we were not com
fortable enough to absorb its tremendous scenic
importance. A cutting wind drove little ice
needles down our necks, and under our wraps in a
manner to dispel poetry. But we took the thing
in quickly, as a hungry man does food, and then
crept back under our furs to digest it.
Behind us were the awe-inspiring successive
cliffs of Mt. McKinley, its glittering spurs pierc
ing a dark purple sky nine thousand feet above
us. The great mountain presented all the phases
of the most terrible conflict of elements. Hun
dreds of avalanches were thundering down the
sides of the giant peak, vath trains of rock and ice
foUowed by clouds of vapour and snow. Against
this chaos of awful noise and lightning movement
there drifted a steadily moving fleet of snow-
charged clouds. Vapours were dragged down
and set into violent agitation by the swift cur
rents of the avalanches. At high altitudes we got
only an occasional peep through a rift in the
clouds, but this peep was full of gloomy mysteries.
It was a sheen of melancholy, the noise of a great

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 67
war scene, a death-dealing breath storming down
every ravine. It was a scene which in our posi
tion, with the low temperature, made one's
marrow shrink. But the outlook in the other
direction was quite the reverse. Here the colour
was cheerful, the movement, though exciting,
was rhythmical, and configuration of cloud and
land, though on a gigantic scale, was enticing,
whUe the depth of perspective led the mind on to
dreams of happy fairy-lands.
Before a lUac curtain, feebly dashed with gilt,
the sun was rapidly drifting, edging northward,
soon to plunge below the cloud level at our feet.
Seemingly but a step down, though two thousand
feet below, was the upper line of a curious sea of
waving clouds glistening like liquid gold, the waves
crested with long lines of pearl. Over this strange
sea-like cloud world, there were many fascinating
optical illusions. Now we saw a mountain rise,
move, explode, and vanish, then we would see a
lake vague in outline, rich in colour, surrounded
by an amphitheatre of ice-corniced mountains so
near that we could almost touch some spurs. As
we had about made out the strange picture, it
dissolved into another, like the views of a stere
opticon. Thus the scenes ran with all kinds of
pictures to suit the fancy and imagination of the
observer. Perhaps the most deceptive thing that
I saw was the upbuilding of a giant peak, which
for a time seemed to rival Mt. Foraker. It slowly
rose out of a particularly brilliant area of the cloud

68 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
line in the south. It seemed as if the limelight
was turned on this particular spot, and for a long
time I could not keep my eyes away from it. The
surface quivered, a huge spray was throv^n up,
and then a spot slowly rose dragging up with it
irregularly most of the level around it, and the
surface raised, burst, leaving a ragged edge some
what like the opening through the paper-covered
hoop pierced by a circus rider. Through this open
ing rose a vague velvety outline of a mountain;
the ragged edges settled, leaving foothiUs, ridges,
valleys, and gulUes with sharp cliffs next to the
mountain. It was a bird's-eye view of an exact
repUca of Mt. Foraker. But as the air cooled
all the outlines were sharpened, all the optical
Ulusions vanished, and this particular mountain
settled rapidly, leaving a rift through which we
saw, seven thousand feet below, a blue expanse of
glacial ice.
The temperature steadUy feU from twenty to
twelve; the entire cloud level settled and had
more the appearance of a quiet sea, but the glit
ter of gold remained, though cooled by a gauze of
blue. WhUe our great mountain and all its fan
tastic Ulusions vanished with the faUing mercury
there remained to the south-west two large mount
ains, and we almost expected them to disappear
but they did not. We soon recognised these as
the great peaks, Foraker and RusseU. Mt. For
aker, twenty mUes away, a cross-ridged, ice-
crested mountain, seventeen thousand feet high;

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 69
and Mt. Russell, a pyramid of ice-plated rock
forty mUes south west. At nine thousand feet the
slopes of both moimtains were hugged by a sea
of clouds.
On the day foUowing we shook ourselves out of
the snow and examined the disheartening slopes
above. The entire scene had changed. There
was a succession of shadowed granite cliffs and
glacial walls which ran up into the glowing sky.
A few luminous cloud shreds were dragging their
edges along the icy spurs at about sixteen thou
sand feet. The western side of the giant peak was
bathed in a frigid blue, but from the east there
came a warm rose glow, which soon enveloped the
mountain and made the thing enticing.
Dunn and Printz had already made up their
minds that farther progress up the difficult slopes
and into the coming winter was impossible. There
was much to support this view; snow was falling
almost constantly, the icy storms were sweeping
the spurs, and the stilly blackness of the polar
night with its awful cold was daUy thickening
and lengthening. We had, however, plenty of
mountain food, and if we could only find some
safe and sure line of attack there was yet a chance
for success.
The ridge upon which we were camped at eleven
thousand feet led with an ever-increasing slope
to a granite cliff which did not appear unclimbable
from below. But at close range and in a good

70 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
light we could see that farther progress on the
south-west arete was impossible. There were suc
cessive cliffs for four thousand feet. Beyond we
saw a gradual slope leading to the western peak.
Over the glacier which came from the gap between
the eastern and western peaks there was also a
promising route. After a careful search we were
compelled to acknowledge defeat, for there was
no way around the succession of sheer granite
cliffs. Leaving some pemmican and fuel here to ease
our packs we descended quickly over the steps
previously cut, reaching our camp on the glacier
at eight thousand feet on September ist, as the
parting sun threw piercing blue shadows over us.
From here on the following day we made a des
perate dash of twenty-nine miles over the ice and
moraine to the face of Hanna Glacier.

CHAPTER VII
Northward Through the Range and Into
the Chulitna.
WE HAD aspired to get to the top of the great
mountain and the many hardships served
to increase the tension of a nervous excitement
which was fired by momentary surprises and in
spirations in wonderful scenes. The spirit of dis
covery ran with our aspirations and the ascent.
Here we breathed the free air of the Arctic, while
the eye wandered over the snowy grandeur to the
broad green splendour of the lower game lands,
the visual senses drinking to intoxication while
the spirit communed with nature in moods of
severe playfulness. We had gone into an upper
world, into the battle-ground of terrestrial and
celestial forces. We had coped with a superior foe
and our battle was half won when the auxiliary
forces of our adversary, the advancing run of
winter and its awful night of frost, called a halt.
As we descended from our second attempt we
were made to realise by frozen grass and increasing
snowstorms that the season for mountaineering
had closed ; furthermore, the north wind convinced
us that if we wished to get out of the country before
71

72 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
the long winter and the night stilled the sub-arctic
world about us, we must quickly reach the head
waters of some big stream. We did not care
to go to the Yukon, because in doing so we would
cover explored territory. We could not return
as we had come, because horse feed along the
western slope of the range was already frozen.
We were not yet ready to leave Mt. McKinley,
provided we could only linger at some point where
our retreat would not, as was likely in our present
position, be suddenly cut off. Altogether, our
purposes would seem best served if we could
cross the range and get into the Chulitna Valley;
but the possibility of such attainment seemed
doubtful, in the time at our disposal, unless we
were fortunate enough to find a pass within a few
days' travel. Accordingly, we resolved to make a
desperate attempt to cross the range to the eastern
slope, and in the event of failure in this, our
alternative was to make the deep waters of the
Toklat, and travel thence by raft to the Tanana
River. Though thwarted by an insurmountable wall,
we had ascended Mt. McKinley far enough to get
a good view of its entire western face. The walls
of the main mountain rise out of Hanna Glacier,
which sweeps the western slope. Avalanche after
avalanche rush down the steep cliffs and deposit
their downpour of ice, rock, and snow on the glacier.
Beyond Hanna Glacier is a remarkable ridge of
lesser mountains, extending about sixteen miles

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 73
parallel to the great mountain. Its altitude is
seven thousand five hundred feet at the north,
and it graduaUy rises to eleven thousand nine
hundred feet at the south. The ridge is weighted
down with all the ice it can possibly carry. Many
glaciers grind down the gorges on both sides, and
along the western slope every cliff is heavily
corniced with ice. The altitudes of the lower
clouds here range from six thousand to ten thou
sand feet, and when looking at Mt. McKinley from
the west, during the greater part of our sojourn,
we could see only this great ridge, the main
mountain being usually obscured under heavy
clouds. For this unique geographical feature I
have placed in honour of our President the name
"Roosevelt Ridge." West of Roosevelt Ridge
is a series of snow-free foothills, mostly pyramidal
in shape. We descended a dome-shaped mountain
six miles south of this ridge, from which place
we made our final attack. The mountain referred
to is entirely covered with ice, and its summit
reached an altitude of fourteen thousand feet.
This will appear on our map as Mt. Hunter in
honour of Miss A. F. Hunter of Newport. In
the eastern end of Roosevelt Ridge there is a
huge amphitheatre, in which rises a glacier about
two miles wide and six miles long; this glacier,
in honour of one of our companions, received
the name of Shainwald Glacier. Over Shainwald
Glacier we had made our first ascent to an eleva
tion of eight thousand three hundred feet.

74 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
As we were about ready to start on our un
certain effort to cross the range we found ourselves
deserted by six of our horses. In their eagerness
to get grass the animals had wandered down
stream toward the main valley of the Kuskokwim.
The seven remaining horses were easily able to
carry our reduced packs, so we allowed the way
ward ones to seek their fortunes in lowlands among
the caribou and moose.
On the moming of September 4th we started on
our weary march along the western foothiUs above
the tree line. The slopes were long and difficult,
and the travelling after our mountain experience
proved very tiresome. Every sudden descent
from the high altitudes produced a feeling of
languor, with difficult heart action. This after
effect of mountain work was to us much worse
than any effect of ascending altitudes. So much
was the fatigue felt that as we ate lunch on a
prominent hill we picked out our evening camp
only a few miles away. The lunch was eaten
with some relish, because we were hungry and had
worked hard. It was the usual meal of boiled
caribou ribs, cold and without salt; also without
bread, or anything else except glacial water.
While we were picking the bones our horses were
searching little depressions for a few sprigs of
grass which had not been frozen, and as they were
being rounded up we saw several caribou. Printz
with a rifle and Shainwald with a revolver crept
stealthily around a hill into a ravine and soon we

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 75
heard a volley of shots. We followed with the
horses and took the choice bits off a fat bull.
Within an hour we were headed for the willows
of a small creek, and here the nimrods spied and
secured a moose, which was a very good excuse
for shortening our day's march. So we camped
in moose haunts in a swamp where we built a
huge camp-fire and ate an incredible amount of
moose steaks while our horses climbed the neigh
bouring hills for the vanishing grass.
Packing our horses on the following moming
with an abundance of fresh meat, we then took
a course for Muldrow Glacier, beyond which we
hoped to find a pass. In two days' marching
seven hours daily over tundra, we reached the
terminal moraine of this great glacier, and we
then marched south-easterly to examine the moun
tains. Our course hitherto had been close to that
of Brooks and Reaburn, and their map, though
quickly made, was found to be remarkably correct.
But now we were to traverse absolutely unknown
territory, and the task thus became doubly in
teresting, though much more difficult. In our
course we first discovered a glacial stream pouring
through a canyon only a few hundred feet north
of Muldrow Glacier. We followed the stream into
a broad valley, and there leamed that the river
was the output of a system of glaciers among
a cluster of sharp peaks seven miles east of the
Muldrow Glacier.
As we left the lateral moraine of the big glacier.

76 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
travelling on the gravel bars of the newly discov
ered river, we moved through a great broad basin,
which we later discovered extended nearly fifty
miles north-easterly. To the east were snow
capped mountains from seven thousand to ten
thousand feet high, while to the west were brown
weatherworn mountains of from five thousand
to seven thousand feet in altitude. The valley
had a general width of seven miles and an average
elevation of four thousand feet; and I named it,
in honour of one of our companions, Dunn Valley.
On September Sth we camped in the canyon of
a small stream at the base of a rounded black
mountain, to the west of which we hoped to be
able to find a pass.
After a hasty meal of unsalted moose-steaks
I asked Printz and Dtinn to join me in an ascent
of the mountain before us, which we called Black
Head. The climb was steep, but not difficult, and
on the way we found many tracks of grizzly
bears, caribou, and mountain sheep. In the
course of an hour we reached the summit at an
altitude of five thousand four hundred feet. From
here we had a magnificent view of a great expanse
of country, upon which it is probable no human
eye had rested before. Thirty-five miles to the
south-west, looking across unnamed mountains
twelve thousand feet high, we saw the summit of
the unconquered culminating peak of North
America. The upper walls of this great uplift
from this side had for us a new aspect. An

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 77
almost constant stream of clouds swept over and
around the mountain from the east, and a blue
electric glow softened the rough outline. Now
and again we could see the summit, and from here
it resembled very much the crown of a molar
tooth. Four tubercles were distinctly visible;
the saddles seen from the west formed two, and
to the east were two rather higher and more dis
tinct. These tubercles of this giant tooth are
separated by large glaciers, whose frozen currents
pour down very steep slopes. If it were not so
difficult to get at this side of the mountain, we
reasoned that here the upper slopes might offer
a promising route.
Apparently continuous with Mt. McKinley, and
extending north-easterly far beyond our position,
there was a sharp icy ridge in which we saw
several mountains over ten thousand feet high.
We thought we could break through this ridge
about ten miles northward from our position,
but the prospective pass which we had seen from
below was only a small valley walled off by the
main ridge. About eight miles up the valley
we saw the benches of a large stream and on the
banks spruce trees. The sight of spruce raised
hopes of a big camp-fire and a good camping-ground
with better prospects of grass for our poor, half-
starved horses. Along the upper slopes, in the
most inaccessible places, we saw long lines of
snowy dots zigzag on the sunny rocks; these were
mountain sheep in great numbers, but our larder

78 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
was too well stocked and our time too precious
to seek them. Around us and toward the un
named brown mountains northward we saw
innumerable ptarmigan.
After plotting our course for the following day,
we descended and camped among some scrub-
willows. Here we found coal in the stream's
bed, and near by signs of petroleum. On the day
following we moved our pack train to the river
we had seen from Black Head, but, much to our
disappointment, the southerly outlook here did
not promise a pass. Beyond, the main valley
widened, the glacial streams became more numer
ous, willows were larger, and signs of game more
abundant. Our camp on the 9th was near a salt
lick, where many animals had congregated to eat
the salty soil. The drainage aU along Dunn
Basin was northward into the Toklat River.
The connecting A- shaped valley forming the
basin had been carved out by some ancient
glacier. To the eastward the basin ended in a
series of hills, and there we felt that we were
certain to find a pass. On the ioth we camped
on a large stream at the end of our newly dis
covered basin, and from here, looking southward,
we discovered a wide cut through the ridge.
Through this opening, over a glacier, came the
moist easterly winds. The horses were desperately
hungry and were bent on deserting us. To guard
against this we set up a watch through the night,
but in the dense blackness of midnight they

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 79
escaped and back-trailed. On the morning of
the nth, while Dunn and Printz searched for
the horses, Shainwald and I explored the prospec
tive pass. In an hour we had ascended the
face of the new glacier and walked over ice very
much crevassed. Ahead were two possible routes
to cross the range — to the north and to the south
of a nunatak which projected above the glacier.
We gradually rose to an elevation of six thousand
one hundred feet, crossing hundreds of crevasses
in a thick snowstorm, and as we came to the
end of the easterly arm of the glacier the snow-
cloud vanished, the weather cleared, and with a
good deal of pleasure we looked down into the
green valley of the Chulitna, the main tributary
of the Susitna River. The descent however,
promised to be very difficult for our horses, though
possible in an emergency like ours.
We next sought a course through deep, soft
snow around the nunatak to the westerly arm.
A cloud of snow swept the glacier, and so thor
oughly blotted out the huge mountains to each
side that we were compelled to travel by compass.
For nearly two hours we marched up this arm,
keeping our glacier rope tight, almost expecting
to drop into a crevasse any moment. Suddenly
we broke through the clouds and just beyond
Shainwald 's toes appeared the brink of a precipice
with a perpendicular drop of three thousand feet.
We quickly stepped back, and then beheld the most
desolate mountain wUderness which it has ever been

8o TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
my privilege to behold. Here were the easterly foot
hills of the McKinley group, black ragged peaks,
dotted by spots of fresh snow. We were at an al
titude of seven thousand feet, and these mountains
were a little higher. The most remarkable feature
was their apparently uniform height of about seven
thousand five hundred feet. Over this expanse
of jagged peaks there drifted heavy silver-edged
clouds. Sometimes we could see over them, at other
times under them, but at nearly all times through
them. This remarkable effect also induced a mir
age, which drew up some mountains to such
heights that we could see huge needles of rock so
far above us that we believed ourselves discoverers
of several peaks that rivalled Mt. McKinley.
As we turned, the clouds were now for a time
swept out of the divide by a strong northerly wind,
giving us a good view of the glacier over which
we had advanced in a snowstorm. It is about eight
miles long and somewhat less than two mUes wide.
The highest mountains on each side are eight thou
sand feet, and from these several small tributaries
pour down their frozen output. This new glacier
I have named Harvey Glacier, in honour of Mr.
George Harvey.
The drainage from Harvey Glacier spreads out
into numerous channels over a great bed of
glacial sUt about a mUe wide. This takes a course
almost due north across Dunn Basin, and then it
enters a canyon, after which it probably takes
an easterly course to the Toklat River.

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 8i
Nearing the centre of Harvey Glacier, we met
the recovered pack-train, carefully guided by
Dunn, Printz, and MUler, between two great
pillars of granite, which mark the gates of the
divide. From here the task of getting the horses
over and around wide crevasses became extremely
difficult, and as we ascended higher the horses
frequently slipped into wide gaps, deceptively
bridged by snow. Our horses, however, were now
pretty well used to all kinds of hardships, and,
though they were thoroughly frightened by fre
quent falls into dangerous cavities, they carried
their packs nobly and safely over the divide.
The most difficult task for the horses, among
their long series of hard adventures, was the
descent from this glacial pass. In less than two
hours they came down three thousand feet at an
angle sometimes too steep for the men. It was
a route over sharp stones, ice, and frozen ground ;
but the animals, with their feet and legs cut and
bruised — ^leaving bloody stains everywhere in
their traU — followed us without being urged toward
the green fields of the lower valley. We were
lucky enough to cross a green slope of long young
grass just as we were aiming to strike camp, and
from here the famished animals refused to be urged
on, so we quickly removed their packs that they
might eat to their utmost capacity. It was their
first feed of grass which had not been frozen, for
more than two weeks.

CHAPTER VIII
Fording, Swimming, and Rafting the Chulitna
AS WE tumbled out of the clouds which were
compressed and driven through the newly
discovered pass, we left behind us for a time the
icy winds of the early winter, but the gloom of
the coming arctic night, was daUy thicken
ing. From seven thousand feet we suddenly
dropped to three thousand feet, into an unknown
land; so fai- as we knew there were neither In
dians nor prospectors within one hundred and
fifty mUes. What the future had in store for us
could only be guessed at; we had seven horses
thin and hungry, but the country over which we
were about to move promised at least sprigs of
willows and cottonwood trees upon which the
hardy creatures could subsist. The land, however,
was not a horse country, at least not to the south
in the direction in which we must push to the
coast. Every little stream from the great range
cut a huge canyon across our track. The only
chance was to keep close to the Chulitna, ford and
swim and cut a trail through the thick under
brush, pushing south quickly and desperately to
82

Copyright, 1904, by Harper and Brothers
CUTTING STEPS IN THE ICE AT 11,000 FEET

-•^^^ilStllftsr

Copyright, 1904, by Harper and Brothers
BREAKING CAMP ON THE SOUTHWEST RIDGE AT 10,000 FEET
Steps were cut for 3,000 feet up this steep wall

HARVEY GLACIER
Over which a new pass was discovered

Copj right, 1904, by Harper and Brothers

Copyright, 1904. by Hnrper and Brothers
MT. McKINLEY FROM THE NORTHWEST. 19 MILES DISTANT
The Kantishna River

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 83
rafting water before the advancing winter im
prisoned us in the heart of Alaska.
The food supply, though not dangerously low,
was such that we were anxious to get to Cook
Inlet quickly. Along the western side of the
range we could count on game to supply our
larder, but along the east there was no such se
curity of a supply. Before crossing the range
we counted on the uncertainty of game in the
Chulitna and packed our horses with all the
moose and caribou meat that could be carried.
This meat, now two weeks old, was not particu
larly appetizing, and fui thermore we must eat it
without salt, for our last find of salt was now ex
hausted. There was no longer any flour, sugar,
or bacon. Indeed our meals were made of highly
coloured and highly scented moose steaks and
beans, both without salt, and tea, mixed with
dried onions, without sugar or mUk. The food
was satisfying, but it did not go down easily.
We had carried a fair supply of wholesome
food, but there is a limit to transportation facili
ties in this kind of pioneer work. Hunger is the
great call for action to all life in the northland,
and it was ours more keenly than ever at this
moment. The dogs and horses and wolves and
foxes, all seeking to satisfy the same pang, helped
themselves from our scant supply, and now we
must either seek their sources or sacrifice our
horses. There was ever before us the possibUity
that we might be detained for the winter as was

84 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
Lieutenant Heron, and this outlook with our food
supply nearly exhausted and our clothing in
tatters with neither coats, shoes, nor hats caused
much anxiety, whUe as a precaution against
starvation or freezing we carefuUy guarded a
few necessities. The matches and ammunition
were securely packed in several waterproof cover
ings, for with a liberal supply of these in a land
where food and game could be secured we felt
safe. We also reserved a supply of our alpine
food sufficient to support us for about one month;
thus with the horror of the winter before us there
was still the hope of ultimate sustaining powers.
Our food prospects without salt were not pleas
ing to the palate, stUl we cotUd keep the inner
fires burning.
At breakfast on September 9th, these thoughts
took definite shape whUe I watched the anxious
solicitude on the chiUed faces of my companions.
Our camp was in the first wUlows below the descend
ing snow line. A piercing frost had caused us to
shiver all night, and as we came over to the feeble
glow of the wUlow camp-fire there was an exchange
of confidences which clearly ran to premonitions of
an arctic winter imprisonment. The flat taste
of the meat, the insipid and repulsive saltless beans,
and the onion tea did not aUay this spectre of
hard luck. In the midst of all this perplexing
care there was one redeeming note of joy. Our
horses for the flrst time in weeks were lying in
tall green grass, with stomachs full, grunting with

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 85
delight which sent gladness through our despond
ent hearts. Good, faithful creatures, how we were
attached to them at this time ! They had followed
us through forest and tundra, over icy rivers into
the snow clouds of the big mountain. They had
learned to climb steep slopes and to cross glaciers
which I never would have believed possible for a
horse. They were almost human in their loyalty
to the aim of our expedition and as each man had
a special reason for his friendship for a special
horse, to see the horses full and happy was to
manifest the best wishes for our animal friends.
The horses having been packed with the precious
remnants of the season's supplies, we started along
the small glacial stream which drained the pass,
and as we neared the timber line we took a south
erly course over tundras and roUing hUls into a
clear stream. We followed this creek several
mUes into a canyon but could not keep this course
because of the narrowing of the canyon and the
large boulders. Ascending to the brim we still
kept a southerly course along the edge of the cliffs
to a high bluff overlooking the valley of the Chu
litna near its main western tributary. We had
covered about fifteen mUes, had gotten blue
berries and currants, and were offered ravens and
ptarmigan. The march though difficult and tire
some cheered us up very much for though we saw
no large game we found good grass for our horses
and saw that we were nearing large rivers which
we knew would take us to tide-water swiftly.

86 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
Around a bright fire of stunted spruce we
watched the sun settle behind the saw-tooth ridge
through which we had just come. A brUliant
afterglow softened the jagged peaks and warmed
the shivering blue of the high snow sheets. There
was much colour in the lowlands, the cotton
wood trees were golden, the wUlows had changed
to red, the mosses were fired by orange and cardi
nal, the spruce and alders were darkening. It was
all remarkably beautiful but it led to the thought
of an early winter which we were not prepared
to face. That night a beautiful moonlight sent a
thrill of exaltation through us as we watched the
great lines of mountains about waving their
cloaks of snow in changing hues of blue and pur
ple. The foxes barked, the ravens screeched, the
ptarmigan laughed, and at long range we heard
the cry of wolves and the rumble of avalanches.
It was an interesting shrieking wUderness to which
we felt like adding the cry of human voices.
As the moon sank into a glacial cut with a great
dark cloud the east paled, the fresh snow of the
peaks glittered in gold, the tree tops brightened,
but the frost increased. With the rising sun there
came a rush of wind out of the glacial basins that
made our teeth chatter. At the morning camp-
fire with a cloudless sky we were able to study
the new surroundings to good advantage. Look
ing westerly we saw a large gap through the range
which seemed to offer a better pass than the one
we had taken. Below this gap were three sharp

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 87
snow peaks about nine thousand feet high, and a
few miles eastward a sharp black peak. Large
glaciers were noted here collecting the combined
precipitation. We discovered from another point
that out of the main gap came another glacier. The
streams from these glaciers united with other
streams to make a large river. This river has been
named in honour of my friend and arctic colleague
Mr. Herbert L. Bridgman, of Brooklyn. Bridgman
River takes a south-westerly course about twenty
miles from the range, then plunges into a canyon
and joins the clear stream from the broad pass,
making the Chulitna.
In our next march the underbrush was so thick
and the canyons so numerous that we were forced
to take the sand-bars of Bridgman River for a
highway. Getting into this glacial stream we found excel
lent travelling, but the slews soon narrowed, and
led us into a canyon with walls three hundred
feet high. The rushing milky waters among
richly tinted cliffs crowned by trees in beautiful
foliage made a picture sublimely fascinating;
but just at this time we were not so much
interested in landscapes as we were in making
rapid progress. We were still anxious to ex
amine Mt. McKinley from the east, and aU our
energies were bent on getting to the mountain
as quickly as possible. The low mountains
about were blanketed by newly fallen snow,
and the temperature was faUing to the freezing

88 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
point every night. We desired to get out of this
canyon, and cut a traU, but we dared not lose the
time. FuUy knowing the danger of following an
unknown stream through a canyon, we still had no
alternative. We marched down-stream, crossing from bank
to bank as the river turned, to find footing for our
horses. At first these crossings were not difficult,
but the stream gathered force very rapidly. On
the second day's march down-stream the horses
were compelled to swim at almost every crossing,
and it was necessary to cross the river thirty to
forty times daily. The men tried to ride the horses,
behind the packs, but in swift streams they were
frequently thrown off. For three days we swam
and forded this icy stream, and then we were
aroused to the dangers of the task through an
accident in which a man and a horse were carried
down-stream and thrown against a cliff. A sim
ilar accident was likely to occur at any time. The
horses could not be taken much farther. For the
safety of ourselves and our outfit we now sought
to build a raft.
The Chulitna proper is formed by the union of
the glacial stream, Bridgman River, down which
we came, and a clear-water stream of somewhat
less volume, the latter draining the extensive
low country towards the head waters of the Cant-
well River. About two miles below this fork the
canyon was considerably broken down, and here
we found small flats covered with tall cottonwood

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 89
trees. In the absence of better wood we camped
here and buUt a raft. The cottonwood trees were
fifteen inches thick, about eighty feet high, remark
ably straight, and free from limbs. We cut logs
thirteen feet long and carried them to a conven
ient launching place, where we fastened them with
cross-bars, lashed by ropes, making two tiers about
eight feet wide. After the raft was finished we
learned to our sorrow that it would barely carry
two men. The wood was evidently too heavy
for raft-buUding.
Printz and MiUer floated the raft, while the
others followed with the horses. The stream got
larger, more rapid, and ever more dangerous to
swim. After having gone only two miles we saw
dry spruce trees a short distance westward up a
large creek of clear water. Here we camped and
built two good rafts, and then came the sad task
of leaving our horses. Good, faithful animals they
had been; it seemed heartless to leave them to
meet an almost certain death, either as a result
of deep snow or from the onslaught of wolves.
Each man had among the animals one or two
pets, and no one had the boldness to deliberately
kUl any of the noble creatures. The grass was good
here, and we argued that when the deep winter
snow came they might possibly dig under it and
find a bare subsistence. On this clear stream,
about eighteen mUes north of the big glacier, we
left seven of the finest and most faithful horses that
ever traversed the wilds of Alaska. We after-

go TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
ward learned that all the animals were still living
after two winters.
Taking to the rafts, we quickly descended the
Chulitna through a series of small canyons divided
by cross-canyons. Early in the afternoon of
September 19th, we camped on a bar about eight
miles southeast of the moraine of a great glacier.
The lower end of this glacier had been partly
charted by government parties, but nothing was
known of its upper reaches. We now set for our
selves the task of exploring this glacier, and over
it the eastern slopes of Mt. McKinley, which had
not yet been seen by us.
Somewhat later we discovered a smaller glacier
about twenty-five mUes south which drains the
eastern slopes of Mt. McKinley. These two glaciers
I have named in honour of my wife and daughter,
the larger Fiddle Glacier and the smaller Ruth
Glacier. With our outfit and supplies for three days
packed in our rucksacks, we ascended the terminal
moraine on the following morning, and then
climbed for eight miles over the most wonderful
accumulation of glacial debris that I had ever
seen. At the first bend we left the glacier, and
ascended the steep slopes of a series of mountains,
from which we hoped to see the course of the gla
cier and the eastern face of the great peak.

CHAPTER IX
Down the Susitna. — ^Around the Alaska Range
THOUGH our mountaineering ambitions
were hopelessly frustrated we had suc
ceeded in pushing around and through the Alaska
Range over unexplored country. We therefore
added a good deal of material to the annals of
pioneer research. Before leaving the cloud pierc
ing spires of Mt. McKinley we had planned to make
a rapid reconnoissance of its eastern approaches
and thus obtain data for a future expedition.
For this purpose we now foUowed Fidfele Glacier
into the foothUls, seeking to reach a favourable
point of observation.
We climbed to an elevation of six thousand
feet, but then our progress was barred by cliffs.
From here, however, we were able to map Fiddle
Glacier and a large mountain area. The glacier
starts from the north-east ridge of Mt. McKinley
and flows almost due east for fifteen miles,
where it receives a large arm from the north.
Five mUes south-east of this another arm swells
the bulk of the great icy stream, and then it takes
a circular course, swinging toward the Chulitna.
Its face is about seven mUes wide, its length is about
91

92 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
forty mUes, and the lower ten mUes are so thor
oughly weighted down by broken stone — the pro
duct of landslides — that no ice is visible. It is
thus the largest interior glacier of Alaska, and it
probably carries more moraine material than any
other known glacier.
Mt. McKinley from the east gives a much
clearer impression of great altitude. We could
not see the lower ten thousand feet, but the
upper slopes though difficult are more nearly
accessible than those of the west. The upper
ten thousand feet are rounded like a beehive,
and three spurs offer resting places for glacier ice,
over which it was thought a route to the summit
might perhaps be found.
The season had now so far advanced that if we
cared to avoid being detained for the winter, we
saw that we must take to our rafts quickly and
descend the Chulitna River. We had stUl to
raft sixty mUes of an unknown stream. Our
supply of provisions was nearly exhausted, we
were hatless and almost shoeless, and our clothing
was torn into rags.
Returning to the rafts at noon we quickly
packed our belongings to start down-stream. The
river as we descended split into numerous channels
and spread over a wide flat. Rafting was very
difficult, — the water was so shallow that the rafts
went aground every few miles. To float them
we were compelled to jump into the water and
push. The raft would suddenly slip into deep

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 93
water and we would be forced to hold on and
crawl out on the logs like water rats. This rafting
life was very exciting — plunging from wide
foaming rapids into the boiling deep of narrow
channels, at a railroad pace, under overhanging
trees, over great boulders, and into dangerous
log jams. We were kept dodging dangers from
every side, the raft with its precious load of
records and instruments was under water often,
but we were making good progress to the coast,
and all of our hardships were belittled by this
pleasant prospect.
About twenty miles below Fiddle Glacier we
noted the moraine of Ruth Glacier which pours its
ice through a deep gap leading to the northern
face of Mt. McKinley. From the glacier came a
vigorous stream — the Tokositna; and at this junc
tion the Chulitna made a sharp bend easterly
and soon after an equally sharp turn southerly,
plunging into a second canyon. As the rafts
went rushing through the canyon on the following
morning, judging from the rapid drop of the river
bed and the abrupt walls of the canyon, we began
to look for dangerous falls. The river so far
as we knew had not been rafted or boated before
and there was good ground for expecting a Niagara
below. To guard against such a drop we kept
a rope coiled and a man ready to jump off and
swim ashore. The prospect for the swimmer was
not a pleasant one but we were not forced to
test the method of precaution.

94 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
As we were emerging from the gloomy canyons
we spied two tents on a bar of silt. The sight
of these tents created quite a commotion among
the rafters. It was the first speck of human life
outside of our own party either white or red
which we had seen in nearly four months. Aside
from the joy of meeting a fellow-creature in a
far-off wilderness, we were keenly interested in
the chances of getting needful supplies. Not
that we were nearing starvation, for we had
plenty of moose meat, pemmican, and beans,
but we had nothing else. With a good deal
of excitement we pulled ashore and found there
two groups of prospectors sluicing gold. They
believed themselves the only people in this part
of the world and we were pretty sure that we were
the only adventurers about Mt. McKinley. A
good deal of explanation followed while we were
marched to a tent where some one detected the
odour of fresh bread and bacon, things foreign
to our camp for some time. The miners had
had no fresh meat for three months but they had
everything else which we wanted and we had
an abundance of moose meat, somewhat black
and gamey because of its long journey from the
west, but still it was meat. In exchange for this
meat we got sugar, tea, salt, and tobacco. We
were told that the river was clear below, that we
could reach the trading post at the station with
our rafts in two days.
We lost very little time for the water in the

BRIDGMAN RIVER
The junction of Bridgman River and the Chulitna

THE MT. McKINLEY CARIBOU

OUT OF THE CLOUDS DOWN TO THE CHULITNA

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 95
river was lowering and the temperature was falling
fast. There were stUl thirty miles of the trouble
some Chulitna, with its tumbling shallow streams,
before we could get into the deeper water of the
Susitna. In coming out of the Chulitna we ran
aground often, and were frequently entangled
in snags. A few miles below the forks we camped
at a point from which we got a splendid view of
the four great peaks of the Bolshoy group.
Looking over a low tree-covered country we
saw rolling foothills leading to sharp black peaks
and beyond the perpetual snow of the Alaska
Range. Floating down the Susitna was a delight com
pared to our troubles on the Chulitna. The
beautiful auttmm foliage, the clear winter air,
the migrating birds, and the absence of mosquitoes
made rafting down this great river of mud a fitting
termination to a series of very hard exploits. At
the station we secured an old dory and in it we
paddled down the lower Susitna through the delta
into the treacherous waters of Cook Inlet. We
arrived at Tyonok on September 26th, just four
months after our start. In that time we had
walked over seven hundred mUes, and by boat and
raft we had traveUed three hundred miles; we
had explored a good deal of new territory; we
had ascended Mt. McKinley to eleven thousand
four hundred feet, encircled the McKinley group,
and had made a fair geological and botanical
collection. Altogether we had done all that

96 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
determined hirnian effort could in the short
interval of an Alaskan summer.
Mt. McKinley offers a unique challenge to
mountaineers, but its ascent will prove a prodigious
task. It is the loftiest mountain in North America,
the steepest mountain in the world, and the most
arctic of all great mountains. Its slopes are
weighted down with all the snow and ice that
can possibly find a resting place, but unlike Mt.
St. Elias, the glaciation is not such as to offer
a route over continuous ice. The area of this
mountain is far inland, in the heart of a most
difficult and trackless country, making the trans
portation of men and supplies a very arduous
task. The thick underbrush, the endless marshes,
and the myriads of vicious mosquitoes bring to the
traveller the troubles of the tropics. The neces
sity for fording and swimming icy streams, the
almost perpetual cold rains, the camps in high
altitudes on glaciers in snows and violent storms
bring to the traveller all of the discomforts of the
arctic explorer. The very difficult slopes com
bined with high altitude effects add the troubles
of the worst alpine climbs. The prospective
conqueror of America's culminating peak will be
amply rewarded, but he must be prepared to
withstand the tortures of the torrids, the discom
forts of the north pole seeker, combined with the
hardships of the Matterhorn ascents multiplied
many times.

PART II
THE EXPEDITION OF 1906

CHAPTER I
With the Prospector into a New Gold Country
THE opportunity to renew the attack on Mt.
McKinley did not again present itself until
the spring of 1 906. I had taken up mountaineering
to offset the home-destroying call of the Arctic but
this first taste of mid-Alaskan life with its sheen
of mountain magnificence, its haunts of big wild
animals, and its gamble in gold and copper mines
instUled an intoxication worse than the return
habit of polar travellers. Alaska to-day is a land
of boundless opportunities. It is the richest gold-
bearing region in the world. Copper and other
minerals promise great return. The fisheries and
the big game wUl interest many for long years;
but to mountaineers it is sure to be a stamping
ground in the immediate future, for those who like
ourselves are bent on first ascents.
WhUe at Seattle, outfitting for our second alpine
campaign, we soon became infected with the rest
less spirit of the prospectors. All Seattle and the
Pacific coast was on the verge of a renewed
Klondyke stampede, but no focus had been fixed
for the rush. The greatest enthusiasm was directed
towards the district surrounding Mt. McKinley,
99

TOO TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
and the head waters of the Kuskokwim, the Kant-
ishatna, and the Yentna were specificaUy outlined
as promising ground. All of this was happUy in line
with our work of climbing and exploration.
After a month of great anxiety and hard work
there was a sudden lull, the engines puffed, and
the steamer Santa Ana, with a cargo of Alaskan
dreamers, including ourselves, their weird outfits
and horses, was en route for the great land of pro
mise, the golden north.
Gliding softly through Puget Sound on the morn
ing of May 1 6th, we admired at long range the
snowy crests of the coast mountains, comparing
the various peaks with Mt. McKinley against
which our efforts were directed. Along the rugged
shores of Vancouver Island, into the remarkable
chain of evergreen islands, through an inland sea
of quiet grandeur to Juneau, four days and three
nights we breathed a balmy atmosphere, feasted
upon wonderous scenery, and learned much of the
mission of Alaskan travel. Every one was after
gold or copper or tin, or some mineral which was
to bring sudden and easy riches. Poor fellows!
— all intoxicated with the gold fever, or yeUow
perU as we styled the prospector's spirit. Four
months afterward many of these men returned
depressed, melancholy, and cursing their fate, but
in another year they will again be on the same
chase after the elusive glitter of the yellow metal.
Juneau is the new capital of Alaska. It has
long been the business centre of south-eastern

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT loi
Alaska but Sitka had previously retained the
government and its honours mostly because it
was in earlier days the most active town. Juneau
owes its present importance to the great quanti
ties of low-grade gold-bearing quartz discovered
in its vicinity. The town is seemingly set in steps
cut out of steep mountain slopes, picturesque
beyond description, but with the present outlook
of earthquake results, the town site is in great
danger. It would need but a slight shake to bury
the city under mountains of rock. Juneau people
however ridicule this idea quite as the people
of Valparaiso did, and are perfectly wUling to
trust to fate. The Santa Ana tied to the dock
early, but the town was open full blast. The big
TreadweU stamping mills on Douglass Island were
sending up huge cones of smoke. From the chim
neys of almost every house of both towns there
came jets of smoke rising into the clear crisp air
between the great cliffs which surrounded the
vicinity. The rim to Sitka was serenely delightful, but the
town had profited little during the three years
which intervened between our visits. A new
series of totem poles had been erected. The Greek
•church had been painted, but the place presented
a study for the tourists interested in the Alaska
of yesterday. To the passengers of the Santa Ana,
the prospector, the nimrod, and the mountaineer,
who were interested in the modern awakening of
Alaska, Sitka had little to offer. In leaving Sitka

I02 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
we plunged from the quiet inland seas out on the
ever stormy swell of the Gulf of Alaska, and then
the drift of conversation rose from seasickness to
the bigness of Alaska.
Like all new countries Alaska is overrated and
underrated by the pioneers. It is put down as an
arctic desert or as a semi-tropical Eldorado. As a
matter of fact this great northland has within its
boundless limits both the worst arctic temperature
and the most agreeable temperate climate. In
the interior north-east it is colder in winter than at
the North Pole, while the south-west, moderated
by the Japan current, has a climate comparable to
that of Baltimore.
Alaska is a large country. Its coast line with
its enormous indentations is said to be equal to
the circumference of the globe. It is twelve times
as large as the State of New York. It contains
some of the greatest rivers of the world, and there
is surely no place on earth where there are such
picturesque mountain areas.
We stopped, among other places, at Orcha, and
since everybody was eager to get to Cordova, a
new boom town from which a railroad is projected
into the Copper River coimtry, we followed the ex
citement. After wading through mud and swamp
we finally found ourselves in a narrow gorge near
a small lake, a central street lined on both sides for
three hundred feet by shanties and tents filled by
men in various stages of intoxication, all trying
to sell town lots and whiskey. Browne and Parker

MOTOR BOATING IN THE NORTH COUNTRY WHERE DUSK AND DAWN RUN TOGETHER

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 103
entered one place more attractive than others
where a phonograph was noising popular airs.
Browne asked for the cylinder "Absence Makes
the Heart Grow Fonder." The bartender sang
out in a loud voice: " We ain't got it, but we have
what makes the jag grow longer."
There is a great difficulty in getting men to work
on the Alaskan railroads. Agents of the road
secure men at Seattle, furnish them with trans
portation and other expenses, and send them to
Alaska. These men as a rule are of the hard luck
type, ready to jump at anything in haste and regret
at leisure. On the Santa Ana there were about one
hundred men for the Alaska Central RaUroad at
Seward, and most of these yielded to the boom
spirit at Cordova, remaining to work on the Copper
River Railroad. When we arrived at Valdez and
Seward, about one half of the people were eager
to rush to Cordova to take advantage of the boom
while the others were eager to get to the Yentna
diggings. We might easily have secured two
hundred recruits for the effort to climb Mt. McKin
ley, but previous experience had taught me that
prospectors eager to get to a new diggings are of
little use as helpers in an exploring enterprise.
At Seldovia we were forced to transship to a
smaller steamer to take us up Cook Inlet. We
anchored off Tyonok on the 29th day of May, and
began at once to establish ourselves on shore.
Our outfit was a very large one. We were pre
pared to push a party of ten men to Mt. McKinley

I04 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
and continue a siege for five months. A double
system of transportation was planned for this
purpose. A pack train of twenty horses purchased
from the Yakima Indians as before was to move
supplies across country, and a specially constructed
motor boat was planned to ascend the large east
erly rivers. Our food for the low country was
simUar to that of the prospector — flour, bacon,
beans, and the various accessories packed in water
proof bags of flfty pounds each. There is no dock
and no lighter at Tyonok. So our things were
thrown into dories and pushed through the surf
by Indian boatmen to a wide sand spit. WhUe
some of the party watched this task and kept a
check on our baggage, others were preparing the
horses for their exciting plunge. The animals were
raised in slings and lowered into the rushing cold
waters to swim ashore. With the motor boat and
dories we tried to guide the snorting animals to the
nearest beach but often they chose their own way
and gave us an exhUarating chase.
Several horses were nearly lost in this effort, only
the speed of the launch and the ingenuity of our
packers Printz and BarrUle made their rescue
possible. Later the vessel steamed closer to the
shore and went aground to make the task of the
horses easier and then they were quickly thrown
over and as quickly the shivering creatures swam
for the shore, but as they did a group of Indian
dogs that had assembled made an assault. Many
of the first horses turned their hoofs at the howling

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 105
creatures, but later another assault was made and
the wildest horses stampeded, four towards Mt.
Redoubt and two northward along the shore.
One half of our baggage and outfit was put into
the launch and then the boat was anchored in the
stream; the other things were taken ashore by
the Indians under the guidance of Mr. Finch, the
local storekeeper. In due time we packed our
things from the mud of the beach, made a pile
above high-water line, covered it to keep the rain
and the dogs off, and then pitched a big tent and
placed in it a Yukon stove burning coal which we
gathered from the beach.
Without any special orders on my part every
man quickly devoted himself to his special vocation.
Porter with his numerous instruments hustled
about to get the local time, the latitude and
longitude, and also a base line for triangulation.
Parker with the h5rpsometer and barometers
made sea-level observations for future altitude
determination. MUler with all kinds of cameras
posed the Indians and snapped picturesque effects.
Altogether it was a busy day.

CHAPTER II
Preparations for the Cross-Country March.
— ^MOTOR-BOATING IN CoOK InLET
AT ABOUT three o'clock May 30th, as the sun
was dashing the Kenai sky with crimson,
and the countless dogs began their morning howl,
we crawled from the blankets and tumbled out
into the frosty air. The scene was superb; the
big volcanoes Redoubt and lUiamna, dressed in
snowy cloaks of purple blue, belched columns of
dark vapour, while the purple waters of the
Inlet gently lapping the gravel bars and the sky
perfectly clear promised a good day; so leaving
Printz, Barrille, and Beecher to corral the horses,
whUe Parker and Ball were to do some unpacking,
all others embarked on the launch and turned
the screw to kicking us toward Mt. McKinley to
transport the first load of supplies up the Susitna
River. The launch had been built in Seattle along lines
necessary to cope with the shallow, swift streams
rushing down the eastern drainage of Mt. Mc
Kinley. She was forty feet long, seven feet wide,
with an extreme draft of twenty inches. The
model was somewhat after the lines of a Peter-
106

/ /

IN COOK INLET STORMS: THE PERILS OF THE MINERS
This dory with its occupants is believed to have been lost in the gale of August 3, 1906

HORSES FORDING

Copyright, 1907 by F. A. Cook

Into tumbling glacial streams and through a frigid jungle. In the effort to get to Mt. McKinley we were drenched with ice-water continuously for three months

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 107
borough canoe. The power was supplied by a
twenty-five horse-power Automarine engine (Lo-
zier) with the propeller in a tunnel. The boat was
also fitted for oars and saUs. The engine weighed
775 pounds, and the entire boat but three thousand
pounds. A river boat on the Susitna needs also
to be a good sea boat, for the waters of Cook Inlet
are very treacherous As a powerful river boat
and a safe sea craft our launch was a great success.
With the tide running eight miles per hour and
the speed of the launch about twelve miles per
hour, we rushed up Cook Inlet at a pace that
seemed like railroad travel. In less than two
hours we reached the head of Cook Inlet and then
with a diminished speed we moved over the end
less tide flats of the delta, and though the river
has a mouth five miles wide we missed the main
channels and found ourselves en route for Knick
when the tide turned. At last we noticed an open
ing into the low meadows from the east and fol
lowing this we ascended the muddy waters still
on bars of silt, in water less than three feet deep.
We were aground every few minutes and thus
drew up water thickened with mud which fouled
our check valves and filled the cylinder jackets
with clay which soon baked. This was a new
trouble for a power launch to contend with and
it proved to be our greatest trouble throughout the
summer. With two men sounding we managed to find
channels where we were just about able to get

io8 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
through, but the task was a most difficult one.
In about two hours we got into deeper channels,
and then it took us four hours more to ascend ten
miles against a very swift stream to Susitna
Station. The Station had changed much since our last
visit. The Indians had decreased in ntimbers
and pitched their camps near the trading post.
Several new log huts were seen scattered among
the trees and brush. The town now had a sa
loon, a trading post, and a roadhouse. Altogether
there were about twenty prospectors' shacks and
an equal number of Indian camps. The rush
for gold toward Mt. McKinley made the Station
an important place.
Mr. Frank Churchill, the manager of the trading
post, very kindly placed a log cabin at our disposal,
into which we placed our boatload of things, and
in it also we camped for the night. The next
morning at about ten o'clock we were ready to
start down-stream, aiming to catch the tide at
the mouth of the river at about noon. Having
had so much trouble in going aground we decided
to add a river pUot to our party. Stephen, the son
of the Chief, was secured. He was a trustworthy
and intelligent young man who had been in our
employ on our previous expedition. Stephen
took the helm and guided us very well, jumping
tree trunks and gravel bars as occasion demanded.
The shore line was rushing past at the rate of
fifteen miles an hour and after a half-hour of

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 109
Indian pilotage we decided that a better know
ledge of power boating was more important than
an expert knowledge of the river bottom. So
MUler took the wheel. We had much trouble
at this time, mostly because the pump was often
being fouled by the great quantity of glacial silt
suspended in the water. The carbureter, too,
was giving trouble because of water in the gasoline,
and our downward trip was far from a happy one.
Fortunately it was easy for us to ship oars and
thus control the boat as she floated down-stream
while the engines were being adjusted.
Porter desired to climb Mt. Susitna and Browne
volunteered to join the venture. They desired
to go light as the launch was expected back in
two days, and therefore little food was taken
with them when they left us at Alexander, a
deserted Indian village. Since we had been
much delayed we hastened down-stream to
catch the tide by the westerly channel. The boat
now ran splendidly, but as we neared the tide
water through the delta we noticed that the
tide was already going out fast, but we kept on,
our pilot saying it was all right. Passing out of
the river and heading past an island upon which
a barrel was placed we found the water rather
deep, six to eight feet. With the brown water
boUing behind us we went along in great glee, but
soon after real dangers were at hand. The water
shaUowed, a heavy sea rolled under the bow, the
engine stopped, the boat poimded lightly, we were

IIO TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
agroimd, and the tide was fast going out. In less
than half an hour there were fifty square miles
of muddy flats about in place of the chocolate-
coloured water. There was no shore-line with
in flve miles of us, nor was there wood or water.
We tried the surface water before it left us,
and found it drinkable, though salty and thick
with mud. We took the precaution to dip up a
paU of this before it left us. We drank this
water and ate some crackers, then threw out
an anchor and without blankets we spread life
preservers on the floor and tried to sleep untU
such time when the tide might return and lift us
off. The night proved dark and the clouds came out
of Turnagain Arm with a speed which indicated
a blow. We slept little but listened to the roar
of the great waves as they neared us. At about
twelve o'clock midnight, the boat was afloat and
soon after we put on power and headed the swell
and the wind. The seas rose and the wind in
creased and white caps formed on every side.
I suggested to our pilot that we make for Fire
Island, but Stephen said, "I think all right, river
good," from which we understood that he thought
a course back into the river and later for Tyonok
was all right but that he preferred to return to the
river. We didn't like the idea of heading for ten
mUes of mud flats in the darkness with a howling
gale behind us. So I said, " River no good —
Tyonok good." He replied with a grunt and some

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT m
Indian mutterings which I took to be swear words
for the tone in which the utterances came was not
indicative of good humour. But for Tyonok we
headed. The seas now began to break over the
bow and the wind carried the spray into Stephen's
face with an ugly force. With each rush of
water the boy would grunt and let drop an ugly
Indian word. After about a half-hour at the
wheel Stephen said "Me plenty sick," and Miller
and I might have said " Me too," but we did not
confess. We had been nursing the engine, for
either the pump or the carbureter was balking fre
quently. The boat had no ballast and under
the violent pitching of the sea we were only able
to crawl around in the dark, not daring to light
a lantern because we detected gasoline vapours.
MUler took the wheel to relieve Stephen and he
too got soaked from head to foot in the first
few minutes. By two o'clock there was a little
burst of light in the east and now we figured we
were far enough away from the dangerous shallows
to set a course for Tyonok. The altered course
brought the seas to our fore quarter but we
could not use full power because the boat would
hit the seas dangerously hard. Thus we took
the seas as easUy as possible while the tide carried
us southward. By daybreak, about 3:30, we
pushed behind the spit at Tyonok, dropped anchor,
and blew our fog horn for a boat to take us
off. We were hungry, exhausted, and cold, but
Prof. Parker had the cook prepare a meal for

112 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
us before we got ashore, and food never tasted
better. The six horses which had stampeded were stUl
at large ; no trace having been found of them. To
make the search more thorough we decided to run
the launch fifty or sixty miles south on the next
tide and land wherever we could to traU the
horses. Ball was sent in saddle along the sandy
shore-line, while Printz and Barrille joined me on
the launch. As the people of the town were
starting their fires we were again on the rough
waters. The weather was improving, but Turn-
again Arm still had a steel-coloured lustre in its
clouds, and vapour plunged into the Inlet, which
did not promise good weather; but we were so
eager to start the pack train on its long traU
overland that we could not afford to wait. We
passed in among the big boulders of Trading Bay
and noted the dangers at low water. Here the
beach is wide and the steep sandy bank three
hundred feet high leads to a plain covered by
spruce, birch, and cottonwood trees. In this bank
in various places we saw thin strata of lignite, a
coal in which the fibre and bark of trees are easUy
made out, but it seems to burn well and is said to be
good steaming coal.
The first twenty-five mUes of this beach had
been searched as we hastened on to Redoubt Bay.
Then far out in the mud flats we saw some tracks
but after a long search we decided that if the
horses were to be found we must seek grassy low-

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 113
lands near the point which separates the two
bays. Here we met Ball, whose luck was like ours.
He had secured no definite trace of the horses.
We built a camp-fire and ate lunch, allowed the
tide to go out, leaving the launch on the tide
flats. Our camp-fire was spread by a sudden
gale into a forest fire close to which we tried to
keep warm, but the combination of !_smoke and
wind drove us into the boat for shelter. After
the wind subsided we began another search for the
horses, but could find no further trace except the
tracks which had been foUowed up, to the outer
tide flats. Late that night as the tide was about
half in we abandoned the horse chase and started
for Tyonok. The wind came in gusts and the sea
came up in dangerous hills. The night was not
dark but the light was of such a quality that we
could never be sure of our bearings. The launch
laboured heavily in the tumbling seas and we were
quickly exhausted, for we had been three days
and three nights without proper rest or sleep, and
food had been only taken as the conditions per
mitted. Upper Cook Inlet has no harbours and
seeing that the sea was too rough to make Tyonok
and get ashore, we ran under a point of land below
Tyonok, dropped anchor, and rode out the storm.
The sea had broken over the boat so much that
the floor and about everything on board was wet,
but we spread the life preservers out and on these
we slumbered for about two hours. With the
change of the tide the sea eased, the wind ceased.

114 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
and a warm sun made the icy volcanoes glitter
at six o'clock. On the morning of June 2d we
tipped the anchor, headed the tide, and by eight
o'clock we were again at Tyonok.

CHAPTER III
Through the Valley of the Yentna. — Climbing
Tumbling Waters in a Motor Boat
THE programme for our campaign, as it had
been formulated to the present, was to
explore the head waters of the Yentna River
first, and from there we expected to get either
by the westerly or an easterly route to the south
west arete of Mt. McKinley. From what we had
seen of this area from Mt. Yenlo we had many
reasons to suppose that there was an easy pass
from the Yentna to the Tonzona. Our efforts
were accordingly directed toward the big break
in the Alaska Range forming the Yentna Valley.
The horses were to go with light packs cross-coun
try to a point at the head of navigation, while
the boat with most of our equipment was to go
up the Yentna as far as possible.
We decided to spend the day in loading the
launch for her second trip up the river and also
to help the packers prepare the pack outfit for
its great tramp through brush and forest, over
marsh and glacial streams.
At about noon June 3d, Printz, Barrille, and
Beecher mounted their horses and we turned the
IIS

ii6 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
others loose. The train of fourteen horses bounded
northward at a rapid pace, only a few of them
carrying packs consisting of supplies for thirty days
and a folding canvas boat for crossing streams.
All the other things were to be carried by the
launch to the head waters of the Yentna. It was
expected the two horses that had been chased
northward would be found along this trail.
As the horses galloped up the beach toward
the Beluga River the launch was started in the
same direction. The sky was somewhat hazy,
but the sea was as smooth as a glacial, lake with
a glimmering sUvery surface. The quiet town of
Tyonok with its busy prospectors was soon left
behind. The pack train moving at a good pace
was seen for some time edging along the great
high banks. The boat cut the waters at an aston
ishing speed and in less than two hours we entered
the mouth of the Susitna, a distance of thirty
miles, and in another hour we were at Alexander
anxiously looking for Porter and Browne who had
been awaiting us with empty stomachs and eager
eyes. They had known nothing of our horse
troubles or the Cook Inlet storms.
Foior days had passed since we left them, and
after the first two days they began to realise their
isolation. With but two days' food they had left
the launch to climb Mt. Susitna, and when their
task was accomplished the last was eaten and
then it was a skirmish for food in a deserted town
where but one thin, hungry dog broke the spell

PORTER SKETCHING COXTOURS FROM ABOVE THE CLOUDS

F-

1

-f^::

;\

.#'

BROWNE

RACONVENZE

BEECHER

PARKER PRINTZ BARRILLE

BREWING TEA IN FIELDS OF WILD FLOWERS

SUB-ARCTIC POND LILIES

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 117
of loneliness. HuUigans, a kind of small fish, were
coming up stream in great numbers, and in an old
house some oats belonging to the Alaskan Central
Railroad were discovered. The oats and the fish
prepared with a hungry man's ingenuity made
luxurious food for two days. But then it seemed
as if they might be obliged to stay weeks, and the
oats and fish diet did not seem a cheerful prospect.
However, they occupied themselves sketching
the local bits of nature, and when the launch
puffed up the river a heavy weight of distress
vanished. We ate lunch at Alexander and then headed
up the swift current for the Station. The weather
was such that only now and again did we see the
bald top of Mt. Susitna with its long tongues of
winter snow still resisting the summer heat.
Mt. Susitna is an important landmark. In
clear weather we seldom lost sight of it within a
range of fifty miles from either side. With easy
slopes the mountain rises out of a low, marshy
country to an altitude of four thousand four hun
dred feet about fifteen miles above the mouth of
the river. In its summit there are said to be copper
deposits. At its base is the little town of Alexan
der with a shifting Indian population, getting its
subsistence from the run of salmon and trout.
The run of the huUigans proved very exciting.
We noted a ripple close to the shore and soon
discovered that the dash of water was produced
by a smaU fish about seven or eight inches long.

ii8 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
We followed them mile after mUe expecting to pass
the excited train, but it was a continuous per
formance, they first rushed over and under roots,
through submerged brush, up into the air, and
down with a splash, always seeming to race with
the launch. Mr. Porter's thoughts ran to mathe
matics; he figured that the train of huUigans was
twelve inches wide and six inches deep and that
it probably extended a hundred miles. Estimat
ing the number of fish in a cubic foot at ninety-
one and one half, he went on to so many millions
that he gave it up, suggesting that we try and
catch some. The launch was run close to shore,
and its speed reduced to about that of the fish,
then Porter, Parker, and Miller grabbed peU-mell,
bringing up handfuls of wriggling, sUvery crea
tures, until the floor of the boat was alive with
the catch. Browne was asleep in the stem whUe
all this excitement was making the air hUarious.
He was the accredited naturalist, and it was
thought that he should join the sport. It occurred
to some one that the fish should wake him ; and at
once his blankets were alive with them; he awoke
with a start and struck out as if to swim, believing
himself in water, which shows that a man's notion
of fish and the sense of swimming are closely
associated. The launch under full power threw up the
muddy spume in angry whirls and pushed forward
with a force inconceivable against rushing waters.
In six hours' actual running time we reached the

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 119
Station, beating aU records for boats of all kinds
on the same run. The prospectors coming over
the route regard it as good luck if they can puU
or pole or push their boats up this stream in six
days. Here with the kind permission of Mr.
ChurchiU we again camped for the night in his
log cabin.
In our excitement after huUigans we jumped a
log, bent a blade of the propeller, and twisted the
rudder. Browne volunteered to fix the rudder, but
the task proved disheartening. To take it out he
found it necessary to get into the icy waters to his
waist, and to replace it he was compelled to get
under the boat. With a spirit not discouraged
by glacial waters, the thing was fixed, at no
expense, with two baths thrown in.
We blew our horn early on the morning of June
4th, to assemble for a start at nine o'clock. The
Indians, the prospectors, and hangers-on at the
Station came out to see the boat take the stream.
About three hundred yards above the Station
the river narrows and turns, shooting the waters
past a huge bluff with a dangerous swiftness.
No boat heretofore had been able to stem this
current. In one way or another they have been
compelled to seek a roundabout way, but our
reputation had gone before us and would we try
it? We had so far been able to negotiate all
rapids and this did not seem much worse than
others which we had made, so we said "Yes, we
wUl try."

I20 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
Over-confident of our success we put on the
switch and were off, but somehow we did not rush
into the current in the usual way, but we went on.
As we neared the bluff Browne boldly headed
for the swiftest water, it shot over the bow and
down stream we went. Pushing into the eddy
at the Station ashamed of our performance we
threw over a line and the people ashore were good
enough not to make amusing capital out of our
failure. We examined the engine carefully to
discover the reason for the lack of power and soon
found that the clutch was slipping, and that the
propeller was fouled by smaU sticks in the tunnel.
The propeller was reversed a few times, the sticks
drifted away, then everything was carefully ad
justed for our second effort, the explosions came
fuU and free, the boat quivered with its usual life,
and this time all of the town moved up to the
higher banks to see our battle with the rushing
waters. Browne kept the split between the eddy
and the current untU about two hundred feet from
the bluff and then heading out slowly, the rushing
waters flushed the decks and threw the boat far
out into the gurgling stream, but the laimch kept
going up stream — our reputation was now redeemed
and we were perrhitted the favourable prognostica
tion of the sourdoughs.
The Yentna pours its silt-laden waters into the
Susitna about two mUes above the Station. It
drains the great area from Mt. Spur to Mt. For
aker and it is the last of the great river beds

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 121
to attract attention as a placer gold-fleld. The
launch pushed up this stream with greater ease
than up the Susitna. The rapids were less treach
erous, and the waters are mostly crowded into one
main channel. During most of the day we pressed
along low banks thickly covered with alders, wil
lows, and cottonwoods, but in the afternoon the
banks rose, spruce trees were more in evidence,
and here we saw the sticks of old Indian camps,
also many signs of miners' camps.
At about four o'clock the low clouds which hung
over us for several days lifted, and, looking back
ward. Porter located Mt. Susitna. We had gone
about twenty-five mUes against a six-mUe current.
The trip had been delightful and not at all
fatiguing, but a bluff coming in sight, and the to
pographer desiring some observations from it of
Mt. Susitna, we decided to land and enjoy our
first real wilderness camp.
It was one of the most impressive spots on the
Yentna. The river was about seven hundred feet
wide and plunged into a deep gorge below, while
above to the west were steep banks crested by
spruce and birch. To the east were islands covered
with cottonwoods, alders, and wiUows separated
by sluggish slews which formed a part of the delta
of the Kahilitna. The launch was tied to a tree,
and the camp equipment was quickly passed out.
Parker discovered that some one had preceded
us and had cut wood. Browne and Miller soon
had a cheerftil camp-fire under a big birch tree,

122 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
flour was mixed in the prospectors' pan, and out
of the reflector in a few minutes we took twenty
brown biscuits; this with bacon, potatoes, and
tea completed our bill of fare.
In our rambles about camp we discovered a log
cabin on the bluff and a good trail to it. There
were differences of opinion as to a choice of sleep
ing places, some preferred the boat, others the log
cabin, and still others a small tent under a spruce
tree. The mosquitoes were just beginning to be
active, and we anticipated a mUd first assault,
but they quickly surrounded us in countless
millions, driving us to despair with a song and a
sting that made the camp ring with sulphurous
words. Here were all the varieties of insect life
suddenly released from their dormant state, most
of them seeking the first blood, and under our thin
skins they found what was to their liking. We
tried mosquito dope, gasoline, coal oil, creosote, and
other things but all to no avail. From this time
untU we were well up in the snow line these little
pests were to us deadly enemies and they were
never idle.
The sun sank under the cones of the spruce and
left a glitter of gold on the glossy brown waters.
Mt. Susitna was clear cut against a purple sky.
The rushing waters, the crackling fire, and the
forest noises were keyed to a harmonious pitch,
but the 'skeets coming in black swarms out of the
grass kept us in a perpetual torment. There was
a bright twUight through the night, so bright that

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 123
we could read ordinary print in our silk tents at
midnight. Early in the morning a very heavy
shower of rain stilled the mosquitoes but made
all the camp thoroughly uncomfortable.
On the morning of June 6th the dark rain-clouds
separated, and for a brief period there were spots
of sunlight floating down the river. Shivering
around the camp-fire we took up the momentous
question of christening the boat. The discussion
was rather heated in its first stages and the names
advocated were Bolshoy, the Russian and Indian
name of the McKinley group of mountains ; Tyone,
Indian for Chieftain; Tyonet, Indian for the king
Salmon; also Yenlo, Yentna; Mountaineer, Yel
low Peril, and Come-and-Get-It. After due dis
cussion the vote was unanimous for Balshay.
At 7 o'clock we slipped the rope and pushed up
stream. Browne and Miller took turns at the
wheel while Parker did the soundings. Porter
arranged the kitchen box on the stern and from
there, undisturbed by the excitement of navigation,
he took his angles with the prismatic compass thus
plotting the river and its banks as we went along.
But above all, what interested us forward was
the calm pleasure which was pictured on Porter's
face as the launch with sharp bounds rushed
over swift waters and brought to his gaze a
changing and highly coloured landscape. To
myself fell the peculiar task of posing as captain
and acting as engineer. To be captain was easy,
for my crew were good river men, but my duties as

124 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
engineer necessitated a careful watch upon the
many phases of gas-engine operation. By making
slight adjustments, however, the engines puffed
away hour after hour with the ease and regularity
of clock movements. Each hour we were climbing
up stream a distance which it would take a river
dory several days to accomplish.
The scenic effect improved as we rose. During
the second day from the Station Mts. Yenlo
and Kliskon rose into view. Over the lower sky
line of the spruce and birch trees, we now noted
the foothiUs of the Alaska Range, but the great
central uplift was still veUed by dark clouds. On
this day also we passed nearly all of the large
tributaries of the Yenfna. One, the Kahilitna,
a glacial river taking the drainage of a huge
glacier from Mt. Foraker, runs through the centre
of the new gold country south of Mt. McKinley.
Eight miles above the Kahilitna we passed Lake
Creek, arising from a large lake south of Mt. Rus
sell. Twelve miles above this we passed the
mouth of the Skwentna coming from the glaciers
amid the unknown mountains north of Mt. Spur,
and early on the morning of June 7th we passed
the mouth of the Kichatna which drains the
Simpson Pass district. After ascending beyond
these four tributaries the Yentna was still as large
as the Hudson above tide water, and its waters
poured over gravel bars at the rate of nearly seven
mUes per hour.
We foUowed the Yentna in its great sweeps and

FORDING THE YENTNA

READY FOR A PLUNGE

ON LAKE BRADLEY

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 125
curves over a wide expanse of sUt. This sUt was
washed out of the high mountains of the north
in former ages, and to-day the same silt, though
covered by forests, is being cut away and deposited
into other places lower down. The quantity of
this glacial wash held in suspension is inconceiva
ble. In places where the current is rapid the
consistency of the water approaches that of S5n:up.
This peculiar faculty of the Yentna in tearing down
and buUding up explains the very frequent changes
in the channel of the stream. It explains also
the origin of the many islands and slews so
characteristic of the Alaskan glacial rivers.
Youngstown, a kind of mythical miners' camp,
the supposed head of navigation, was our ultimate
destination. But we were a long time locating
the town. Indeed the town was unable to locate
itself, for it drifted with a shifting population of
miners. At about ten o'clock we saw a big dory
drifting down the stream. A corpulent miner
with all kinds of things was in the boat. To our
question, " How far to Youngstown? " he answered:
"It used to be twenty miles above, but it just
moved. I have the town in the dory and am
taking it down the stream." He also said the
river was not navigable above, but our soundings
gave from three to four feet of water, and so long
as we could find thirty inches, our boat could
kick along.
By going aground often, jumping snags and
dodging sweepers, we managed to get to a point

126 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
on the west fork about forty mUes from the head
waters. Here we secured the Bolshoy to a cut
bank, built a cache, placing in it most of our
provisions, and on the bars we erected a big tent.
The tent and its surroundings we named
"Parker House " in honour of our co-worker Prof.
Parker. The river above Parker House spread
over a wide expanse of quicksand. This shallow
rift extended about three miles, and beyond the
river narrowed and would have been navigable
for several mUes had we been able to get our boat
above the shallow.
A huge camp-fire was built for comfort, and
another fire for cooking. We gathered around
the fires and talked about our luck in climbing the
rushing waters, our picturesque surroundings,
the signs of game, and the next effort to find a
pass through the range. The work of the day had
been exciting. We were tired, cold, and hungry.
Nearly everybody helped the cook to prepare a
great feast. The menu in preparation was as
follows: Biscuits baked in the reflector, with a
Yentna gold and brown flnish, pork and beans,
fried bacon, fried eggs, mashed potatoes, tea. As
this was about ready Browne introduced the call
"Come and get it." This was continued as a meal
call during all of our adventures.

CHAPTER IV
Discoveries About Mt. Dall and the Yentna
Headwaters.
WE HAD hardly finished the meal when we
noted a rather strong icy wind blowing
from the north, and with it the clouds drifting
up the valley vanished. These vapours in our
trip up the Yentna obscured the big mountains of
the Alaska Range. Soon after the high clouds
also withdrew, leaving a central zone of stratus
films. Above this line of clouds we were suddenly
surprised by the mirage of peak after peak of giant
proportions, all seemingly near and looming up
so very high that any one of them could have
been mistaken for Mt. McKinley. Below, were
the steep green slopes of the foothills, separated
by large rounded valleys, in several of which
could be seen the blue surfaces of great ice streams,
from which came the brown waters of the Yentna.
There were four notable peaks after the mirage
had disappeared. These were Mts. McKinley
Foraker, Russell, and Dall. All were freshly
covered with snow, but Mt. Russell seemed most
remarkable because of its nearness and regular
pyramidal shape. To the westward of Mt. Dall
127

128 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
we were now able to pick out several distinct
breaks in the range, and to explore these to dis
cover a pass to the westward was' our next effort.
On the afternoon of the same day, June 9th, we
determined to start for the Pass. We estimated
that we were forty miles from the divide, and
we planned to cover as much of this as possible
by poling or lining a twenty-foot canvas boat.
Stocking our boat with a supply for five men for
ten days we left Parker House in charge of Prof.
Parker and began the arduous and dangerous task
of pushing up the ttimbling waters of the Yentna.
Prof. Parker was to make a rotmd of observations
and direct the building and stocking of a large
main cache. Mr. Porter had already measured
the base line, and had also secured meridian and
latitude observations. The topographer was thus
in a favourable position to begin a plane-table
survey of the unexplored territory through which
we were about to travel. My companions in
this scouting party were Porter, Browne, MiUer,
and Armstrong, the latter having joined us on the
river to prospect the new territory through
which we aimed to go. The boat was not heavUy
loaded but it gave us much trouble in towing, and
we soon discovered that for glacial rapids a canvas
canoe was a faUure. With four men on the line
and one in the stem with a steering paddle we just
managed to get along about a mile an hour. Our
troubles were numerous, being frequently mired in
quick-sand, stumbling over treacherous drift wood

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 129
into deep icy waters, fording rapids, and fighting
the mosquitoes, were but a few of our hardships.
The thing was however exciting, and was taken
with good cheer.
As the sun settled under the snow peaks of the
west we witnessed the first of the remarkable
series of sunsets which gladdened our hearts
for weeks to come. We were approaching the
time of the longest day and also nearing the arctic
circle, the combined effect of which was to give
us a long day of intense heat with frequent showers,
a short night, frosty and clear with the sun just
under the northern mountains throwing flames
of orange and gold against a sky of purple. We
camped that night on a bar where driftwood
was plentiful, and in a near-by pool clear water
was found which was a discovery indeed, for though
water was to be found everywhere, clear water,
free of glacial mud, was indeed rare.
As the chiU and twUight of the night settled
over us the bright camp-fire was doubly appre
ciated. A bit of canvas was spread on the sand in
the lee of a log and upon it in an appetising array
were steaming beans and bacon, bread, and tea
made of clear water for all to "come and get it."
Our clothing was soaked with ice water from head
to foot, and until the cheer of the fire and the
thought of hot food were impressed upon us we were
thoroughly miserable. That night in the silk tents
we were well housed from the mosquitoes, and
in the morning as we awoke among the roaring

I30 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
ice waters, the camp-fire and the warm breakfast
proved a fetching inducement for early rising.
By noon of the ioth we reached the limit of
profitable canoe navigation. The boat had been
dragged over gravel bars so much that the outer
canvas was wom through in several places, re
quiring immediate repair. We were now about
eight mUes above Parker House, and here the
river makes a sharp turn. Leaving MiUer and
Armstrong here to repair the boat and prospect
for gold. Porter and Browne joined me on a venture
to seek a pass. The outlook from here was
favourable. Winds and clouds were rushing into
gaps through the mountains at a point about
thirty miles westward. To reach and examine
these gaps we packed into our rucksacks our equip
ment of sleeping bags, tent, food for seven days,
and instruments, in aU weighing thirty poimds.
Starting late in the afternoon of the ioth we set
a course into the narrowing valley of the west
fork of the Yentna travelling over gravel bars and
benches, fording slews occasionaUy, but no big
streams. The frequent stops which Porter required
to set up his plane table gave us a welcome breath
ing speU. The tracks of bears, moose, and wolves
aroused us to a spirit of the chase, while the be
wildering mountain slope with roaring faUs- and
cataracts echoing from side to side revealed
nature in its wildest aspects.
After having covered about seven miles we
spent the night in our little tents pitched on

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 131
a sand bar, and before the sun had dispelled the
chilly shadows of the big mountain of the north
east we were again on the march with our packs.
At noon we found the sun so hot that it was
thought best to camp for a few hours to rest, to
dry out our clothing, and to eat a hearty meal.
We had crossed and recrossed the main stream
with great difficulty. The icy waters were here
wide and deep, but the shores were so precipitous,
and the underbrush so dense that we were com
pelled to take the river bottom, fording and swim
ming as the occasion required.
At four o'clock in the afternoon we again took
up our burden and marched into the opening
of a canyon, but the waters here proved too deep
and too swift to ford. After vainly searching
for an easy crossing we were finally forced to
camp, having made only ten miles for the day's
effort. We took to the brush on the next day to avoid
fording and swimming. The stream was very
dangerous, the alders the worst we had seen, and
though we found an old bear trail it took us all
day to make an advance of three miles.
Early on the morning of the 1 4th it rained heavily
in the mountains. The river was high, but we
could not afford the time to wait for better weather.
Our first task was to cross a stream, the worst
that we had seen. We tried in vain for a good
ford and at last Browne in a desperate spirit
plunged into the raging torrent, lost his footing.

132 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
turned several summersatUts, was carried down
stream some distance, and oiUy saved himself
by landing on a submerged boulder. Porter and
I foUowed with better luck, but it was agreed that
we would cross no more such streams. We tried
hard to be true to our resolution, but other
streams barred our way and must be negotiated.
In four hours we had gone about eight miles and
were blocked from farther progress by rapids
increasing in force and depth. We calculated
that with horses aU these waters would be easy,
so it simply remained for us to explore the pass
far enough to be reasonably sure that we could get
through the range. To determine this point finaUy
we now decided to climb the mountains to the
south to an altitude where we might see through
the range. We crossed a deep channel and be
gan the climb wet to our hips, with boots fuU
of ice water. The slopes were steep, while the
underbrush was as dense as tropical verdure,
and on hands and knees we climbed and crawled
between branches. The mosquitoes were mad
dening, and the devU-clubs fiUed our clothing with
needles. Before we had ascended two thousand
feet our trousers were tom in strips and we were
thoroughly exhausted. A rest of an hour whUe
observations were being made and another hour for
lunch changed our fatigue into renewed enthu
siasm; for at this time we saw that if we could
reach an old glacial bench about a thousand feet
higher, and about four miles west, we could get a

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 133
view which would satisfy us as to the possibUity
of getting our pack-horses through the range. We
reached this position in about two hours, and there
pitched the tent. Wood was scarce here, but
we found roots, bits of brush, and moss sufficient
to prepare our food. We had now reached the
limit of time and food-consumption which we had
allowed ourselves, so this must be our last day of
advance. It rained, snowed, and hailed a great
part of the night, but the early morning as usual
was bright and clear.
Our position here was unique. The foaming
waters of the Yentna were more than two thousand
feet below us, rushing from bluff to bluff in a
system of unexplored canyons which for perpen
dicular cliffs and superb mountains of great alti
tude surpassed the glories of the Grand Canyon of
the Colorado. To the south were huge snow-capped
mountains unnamed and unexplored, among them
large snow basins feeding glaciers of the Yentna
and Kuskokwim. To the north was a curious
mountain about six thousand feet high with five
pinnacles. The main Yentna waters came out of
canyons on both sides of this mountain. To the
south above the canyon we could see the rolling
hiUs of the western slopes of the range. To the
north of this mountain was a wide low gap through
which the clouds of the Kuskokwim drifted, and
beyond this gap were high mountains leading up
to Mt. DaU. The passes existing on both sides of
the mountain with five pinnacles seemed promising

134 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
from every view we had, but no pass is a pass
untU some one has passed through it. We could
have gone through afoot, but we had neither the
time nor the food supply, and, after all, our object
was only to ascertain with reasonable possibUity
if the pass was practicable for pack-horses. Of
this we now felt sure, and laboriously returned
to Parker House over-confident of our abUity
to cross the range by the new pass with our horses.

CHAPTER V
Into the Yentna Canyons
WE WERE now waiting for the arrival of the
pack-train. Miller and Ball had been sent
to the Kichatna to meet the packers and guide
them above the timber line, along the bald slopes,
and down to our camp in the Yentna. The
days of waiting were spent by cutting trail from
the river to the grassy upper slopes. Porter and
Browne camped high up in the mountains to study
topography and game, and had several exciting
experiences. Porter took his instruments to the
top of a commanding peak and set up his plane
table to sketch a round of contours. WhUe his
attention was fixed on distant peaks, he was dis
turbed by the approach of a big brown bear with
a cub. There was not room for Porter and the
bear on the peak, and Porter had no weapon
with which to enforce his prior claim, so he quickly
grabbed his instruments and with long strides
he descended over the sudden drop of snow-bank.
The coming of a violent storm made farther
retreat necessary for both Browne and Porter,
and the map was never completed.
In the course of a week after our return to the
135

136 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
Parker House we heard one day the sound of the
bell-mare's beU and the axes cutting traU through
a dense spruce and birch forest, and soon after saw
Printz, the chief packer, tumble into a stream
from a low bank. The water was deeper than he
had calculated, so he had quite a tussle to dodge
the horses that plunged in after him. Men and
horses scrambled out on a sandy bar, and with
them came clouds of mosquitoes. Here these
pests greeted us and we greeted our companions
from whom we had been separated for three weeks,
and the reunion was an occasion for a special
feed and rest.
Printz with BarrUle and Beecher had had a hard
time in the cross-country tramp to reach us at
the Parker House, a distance of one hundred and
thirty miles, over marshes, through thick under
brush, and across several big glacial rivers. The
horses were reduced in numbers, and those that
survived were weak, thin, and sickly, due mostly
to the incessant torment of mosquitoes and horse
flies. The six horses stampeded by the Indians'
dogs were not recovered, and to make matters
worse, whUe feeding near the Beluga River the
herd wandered over a grassy plain under which
a stratum of lignite coal was burning. Some of
the horses broke through the surface and were
mired in the fiery coal. Six were badly burned, of
which three weie shot, but the others after care
ful nursing recovered. Now there remained but
eleven horses of a splendid pack-train of twenty

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 137
animals, and some of these were not strong
enough to carry packs.
On the 25th of June we packed the horses with
supplies which we hoped to place in caches along
the western side of the range for later use by our
hunting party. We also packed an outfit and
supplies for an assault upon Mt. McKinley from
the slopes north of Mt. Foraker. The weather had
been very warm for several days, melting the
winter snows in the high mountains rapidly, and
there was also a great deal of rain during the night.
The river in consequence was rather high and
we could not afford the time to wait for low
water, nor could we guess when the water would
become low. We started to follow the Yentna into
the pass as we had previously gone afoot. We
had not gone far before we noticed that the Yentna
offered perils even with horses. The pack-train
of eleven horses, carrying about one hundred and
fifty pounds each, with eight men scattered
among them, was in good control. The men and
horses rushing over seething rapids into a land
unknown made a picture of pioneer life as prim
itive as that of the early Western frontiersmen.
While the horses were thoroughly trained to
carrying pack they had not yet adapted them
selves to the new trick of fording rivers with the
double load of pack and man. In following the
Yentna it was necessary to ford so often that
we could not stop and unpack, nor did we aim
to trouble the animals except in crossing dangerous

138 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
places. As we neared a deep slew each man took
his favourite horse and led him into the ford, mount
ing on the run. This kind of adventure proved
very exciting. Most of the horses bucked with
the first attempt and plunged into deep swift
water with a wild splash. If the swim was short
and the rider had good presence of mind the
task proved merely exhUarating, but if the swim
was long, and either man or horse became panic-
stricken, then there was trouble for all.
This panic in the depth of swift water, which is
the same aS' that in the breath of avalanches at
high altitudes, is a dangerous state of mind, for it
defeats the ability for quick action upon which
the security of life often depends. Some men
soon school themselves to its elimination, but
with others the thing becomes more overwhelming
with every experience. Rushing glacial streams
have a peculiar effect upon every one is who much
around them. There is a run of human passion
which goes with tumbling waters. Most of our
party felt the spirit of this peril of the rapids,
for as we breathed the icy spray of the swift
streams some became stimulated and talkative
and others quiet and melancholy. Thus each
swim of the Yentna left its imprint of intoxication.
In the first three miles the fords were only
waist-deep and few men took the trouble to mount,
but as the river turned westerly the many slews
united, making one large river about three hundred
yards wide. Picking what we supposed would

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 139
be the best ford, Printz, Browne, and Porter
started. They got along splendidly untU the
horses began to swim and were carried down
stream, landing on the opposite shore along a cut
bank among roots and fallen trees. The men
climbed out, and after a good deal of trouble
succeeded in dragging their horses out also. Most
of the other horses were bucking and could only
be urged into the water with great difficulty. To
allow for the drift down stream the rest of us
started into the water farther up, with results
even more disastrous than the first.
At the next ford we were more careful. A
trail was cut for a mile through dense alders and
wUlows, which served the double purpose of ob
viating a swim and warming the men after their
shivering water adventures. Coming out of the
jungle we found a camping spot on a bar where
driftwood and clear water were abundant, but
the grass was insufficient. From the driftwood
a big fire was made. Soon we forgot the dis
comfort of the cold water and warmed to home
topics. During the next day we were able to avoid dan
gerous fords, and, with an agreeable camp under
magnificent cascades, the peril of the rapids was
for a time dispeUed by the more distant music.
The next day, however, troubles returned with
double force, for as we pushed into the moun
tains the river took a zigzag course from bluff
to bluff and ruffled up in mid -stream tumbles.

I40 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
The worst experience of this day and the most
dangerous of the entire trip unfortunately fell
to the lot of the man who feared the run of glacial
waters most. As the river made a sharp turn from
cliff to cliff we were forced to cross two narrow
slews where the water moved with a rush that
made us hold our breaths. In the first crossing
nearly every one had got into trouble and scrambled
out of the bubbling rapids with the feeling that
he had just escaped an icy grave. The next slew
was more encouraging. Here it was wider and gave
us more room to clear the cliffs if by chance we
were taken down stream. Four men crossed with
some difficulty, but by just missing a swim. Prof.
Parker mounted Billy Buck, the horse that had
gained the reputation of being the best river
animal. Billy Buck started in somewhat lower
than the other horses, became confused in mid
stream, lost his footing, went down stream and
under. For a few seconds both the Professor
and the horse were out of sight. Suddenly the
Professor bobbed up, struck for the shore, and was
pulled out by BarrUle at a time when he had about
given up the game. The head of the horse was
seen as the seething waters swept the cliffs, but
we followed the stream with anxious eyes for some
distance without seeing the unfortunate animal
again. We were certain the horse was lost but
thought his pack must drift ashore somewhere.
In the pack were a number of things indispensable
to our work, but the thing desired most was

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 141
Browne's rifle, which was lashed insecurely over it.
Two scouting parties were sent down stream to
seek the pack, and a few miles below they found
Billy Buck feeding along in tall grass, with his
pack still properly balanced and the rifle somewhat
scratched and dented but still in working order.
The unexpected rescue of Billy Buck made our
camp ring with enthusiasm, but the day's ex
perience, with the narrow escape of Parker, proved
that greater caution was necessary in the future
fords. Our camp here was near a clear stream,
where Porter secured some trout. The foothills
rose in successive slants almost perpendicularly.
Near the stream bed were a few spruce, birch, and
cottonwood trees, and some scattered patches of
grass. The middle slopes were covered with alders
and the upper benches were remarkable for new
green carpets of grass, while just above, at six
thousand feet, was the line of perpetual snow.
When the sun broke through the haze and
vapour it was suffocatingly hot, but the almost
continuous train of clouds, which ran through the
range in the direction of our prospective pass
kept up a gloom of local showers. The nights were
bright but chilly, and the winds were unusually
strong. Tl 3 extremes of heat and cold were
keenly felt and the difficulties of advance were
such that an air of uncertainty and mystery was
necessarUy cast over every plan of action.
The mouth of the canyon of the Yentna was but
eight rhiles away and the next day's camp was to

142 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
be pitched in a bunch of big cottonwoods within
easy striking distance of the opening. With
good weather and good luck we reached this
camp soon after noon.
It was evident that much scouting must be done
before a pass could be forced here with heavy
packs. A cache was built, a permanent camp
was made, and good feeding grounds were sought
for the horses.
The morning of June 29th opened with spats
of sunlight, which drifted hurriedly along the
valley. The temperature was 43° and a strong
wind came out of the canyon in hard puffs. The
problem of the day was to determine finaUy the
possibility of getting through the range. We
entertained strong hopes of doing so, but the
canyons were still unexplored, and with our un
fortunate water experience we prepared cautiously
for the desperate task. Browne, Barrille, and
Printz were invited to join me in the endeavour.
The four best river horses were selected, and
without packs and without saddles we started
for the plunges.
Our camp fellows gathered at the gates of the
canyon and watched the horses take the first
series of rapids. The water was deep and swift,
but the swim was very short. As we pushed
into the narrowing gap of the cut the streams
came together with augmented force. To gain
footing on the bars it was necessary to cross at
every turn. We had expected to swim much and

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 143
therefore wore as little as possible. A bathing
suit would have been to our liking, but the icy
water and the frost of the shadows in the canyons,
with a biting wind, made our wet clothing almost
harden to armour plates. After each swim we
dismounted, shivered, danced about, and hurried
along to the luck of the next crossing.
About two miles up stream the main canyon
turned to the north of a remarkable peak with
five points. Here the river forked, the northerly
stream heading towards the Tonzona River while
the southerly stream, with a lesser canyon, led
towards the DiUinger River. Both courses must
be explored for a pass. Browne and Barrille
were sent to examine the Yentna-Dillinger gap,
while Printz and the writer sought to push into
the Yentna-Tonzona canyon.
Toward the Tonzona the walls of the canyon
rose in successive tiers to seven thousand feet.
For sheer cliffs and dazzling contrast of colour the
scene surpassed that of the Grand Canyon. The
gap narrowed as we advanced, the stream deepened
until at last three miles above the forks we were
halted by the plunging torrent with no place for
a footing for man or beast. We found some
tracks of moose, bear, and mountain sheep, but the
footing was too insecure for our horses. With no
safe practical way to get through this canyon we
returned to the forks and followed Browne and
Barrille into the other canyon, westward to the
limit of horse travel. This canyon was less

144 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
picturesque, but it offered better facilities for
travel. To each side of the canyon there was a
bench, the shelf of an old glacier, beyond which
we saw a rolling grassy country at an altitude
of about three thousand feet. It was, however,
impossible to rise out of the canyon with our
horses to this bench, and therefore this pass would
also be impracticable for the pack-train, though
men with light packs could get through. Unless
we could push along supplies sufficient for several
months it was useless to continue the search
for a break through the range, and therefore we
abandoned the pass-seeking undertaking.
The return proved to be a very dangerous ad
venture. The sun had thrown its fire on the glacier
all day, and the river swelled with leaf)S and bounds.
We had no great difficulty until after we passed
the forks; then the horses refused to take to the
water. Printz made seven or eight attempts
with his Billy Buck, and each time the horse
ttirned to the near bank. In one of these attempts
my Roan followed, struck out with a desperate
lunge, and crossed. This left a wide torrent be
tween us, and the noise of the rushing water was
such that we could not hear each other. After
several more attempts Printz took his horse to a
break in the canyon and signalled that he would
try to return along the brim.
There were still five dangerous crossings to
be made before leaving the canyon, and to do this
alone was taking a desperate chance, but there

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 145
was no alternative. The next crossing was ac
complished without much trouble, though Roan
refused for a long time to make the attempt,
but the next swim induced me to quit water
ventures for that day. In urging the horse into
the water he suddenly lost footing and struck
out, but the current was such that he turned over
so quickly that he hardly knew what happened,
and I had no time to argue either with Roan or
myself when I found myself groping at the horse's
stomach with his legs dashing out with wild
darts. I let go ; whether I prudently decided to
quit the horse or unconsciously let go I do not
know, but the next moment we were side by side,
snorting and puffing and reaching out for the
shore. Roan was carried down only about one hundred
feet, and then reached out over big boulders to
a sand bar, where he stood and watched me drift
with the rushing waters toward a cliff. It seemed
as if I could never reach that shore, and as I was
about to seek the bottom the stream brushed
the rocks with such force that it was impossible
to hold the feet down. Feeling that the grip of
death was at hand a last effort was made, which
landed me on the boulders as the current turned
to press into a tunnel. For some minutes I re
mained face down on those boulders, so nearly
paralyzed from cold and exhaustion that I was
unable to stir. With increased consciousness
there was also an added sense of cold, and as I

146 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
walked over to the horse I noticed that he too
was shivering. It was but a mile to the end of
the canyon, but I had not the courage to test
the more dangerous crossings below.
Finding some good grass in a guUy I left Roan,
intending to reach camp over the brim and ex
pecting to come after him in the morning, when
the river would be lower. The ascent out of the
canyon was a very difficult one, but I had not gone
far before the horse pushed his nose under my arm
and proved that he could climb as well as a man.
Together we made a zigzag course to the top, but
there our trouble was even worse. The brush was
so thick that it was difficult to push through, and I
had nothing but a pocket knife with which to cut a
trail. Crowding between alders the horse followed,
seeming to share with me the eagerness to get away
from the rapids. FinaUy we reached camp, where
we found Printz against a blazing camp-fire thawing
out. Browne came along about an hour later
having shot a brown bear, and having had the
same experience which fell to our lot, but Barrille
with his horse was left in the canyon.
An expedition was organised for the relief of
Barrille with other horses and ropes, but he re
fused to be rescued that night while the water
continued to rise, and the temperature lowered,
and asked to be left until low water in the morning.
As the sun rose Printz took Roan and went to
the relief of Barrille. The water was so low that
both were able to ride on one horse without swim-

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 147
ming. Barille had been twenty-four hours with
out food or sleep but he had a well-rounded
experience. Our adventures in the canyons proved that a
farther effort to cross the range here with supplies
was hopeless. There stiU remained a glacier
leading to Mt. Dall along which there appeared
to be a break through the range, but this was
not practicable with horses, and therefore of no
use to us.
We returned to Parker House to devise some
other line of attack. The pass-seeking adventure
was a hopeless failure, but the many discoveries
of glaciers, mountains, and rivers were sufficient
reward for the hard experiences.

CHAPTER VI
Northward to Mt. McKinley over New Gold
Diggings
FAILING to force the Yentna Pass our next
route to the west was along the Kichatna
and through Simpson Pass. But before such an
attempt could be made the horses must feed up
and be aUowed time to recuperate. The long drive
overland from Tyonok and the hard life in the
Yentna with very little grass aU along so reduced
the pack train that the animals were unable to
assume the hardships of the mosquito-pestered
Kichatna. There were three arguments which
induced us to try a reconnoissance northward
to Mt. McKinley. In prospect it did not seem a
difficult horse traU, and food was abundant. There
fore the horses would rest and regain strength for
the more serious effort later to the west. The
country over which we were to travel was the
new dreamland of the prospector, and our ex
ploration of it would give a map of what was
a blank on the charts, and above all it was the
most direct route to the base of Mt. McKinley,
a distance of seventy mUes.
With these points in view we refitted from
148

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 149
Parker House for a month's campaign. From the
highlands to the west of the Yentna we had pre
viously picked a trail for the first stage of this
journey. Between the two forks we must cross
five miles of jungle, then cross the east fork of the
Yentna, and ascend Mt. Kliskon. To cut trail
Browne, Printz, and Miller were sent out early in
the morning of July 3d. The pack train followed
in the afternoon. The water was high and we had
still to cross several deep streams of the west fork,
in each of which we got thoroughly drenched. In
the jungle over the newly made traU travelling
was at first good. There were large spruce, birch,
and cottonwood trees and a dense underbrush of
wUlows and alders. Now again we rose and to a
hill where the light fell through the narrow gap
between the trees and illuminated luxurious grass
fields to which the horses ran with delight. Around
some erratic boulders we found wild currants and
cranberries. Squirrels and fool-hens made the air
ring with a note of life, whUe bear traUs and moose
tracks kept the nimrods keyed up to a pitch of
excitement, but we were too busy to hunt.
We had counted on crossing this neck of land
in a few hours but we were misled. Our bird's-eye
view from above indicated a soft green wilderness
with a decorative park-like grouping of the spruce,
the alders, and the cottonwoods. There were many
deep slews and marshes which we did not see
untU we plunged in muddy waters. Finally as the
chiU of night increased and the song of the mos-

ISO TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
quitoes saddened, we were confronted by a deep
stream with cut banks on both sides, which we
could not cross. We camped on the bank of the
slew, and before morning the stream rose and the
whole jungle seemed to be afloat.
In the pouring rain we started to find some
ford but we waded for mUes through brush and
mud without being able to cross. Another slew
drove us back until we wearied of doubling upon
our back trail. It was an innocent, quiet-appearing
band of water not more than one hundred feet
wide. In a desperate mood we resolved to cross
it. When men slip and stumble over roots and
entangling willows in ice water waist deep for
hours the thought of a swim comes as a sort of
relief. But some of our men could not swim and
others who could were so cold that they did not
dare to venture.
Two horses voluntarUy plunged in, and with loud
snorts they struck out for the other shore. The
poor creatures with our instruments and matches
and sugar and other precious things swam about
for a long time before they were able to gain a
footing on the opposite shore. Completely ex
hausted and nearly frozen to death they finally
reached bottom in the brush but were unable to
drag themselves out of the deep water. In my
eagerness to get to these sinking animals I tried
to mount my horse without taking off his heavy
pack and urged him into the water. He was a
good swimmer but objected to being mounted

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 151
whUe carrying a pack saddle. We edged along to
find a favourable jumping-off place. Without my
consent the horse jumped a fallen tree and bucked
me several feet into the air after which I went
down to what seemed like several leagues of wet
ness. When I had a chance to catch my breath I
found myself drifting down stream within reach
of my struggling horse. Separately we struck out
for the other horses in trouble. Browne and
Printz felled a tree and managed to cross on it,
as did also Prof. Parker, but they sank to their
necks before crossing and might have swam over
with less discomfort. All the others managed to
cross holding to a pack strap or the tail of a horse
and made easy work of it. To the other side of
the slew we waded through a flooded flat grabbing
the limbs of trees, monkey fashion, to keep from
having our feet glued to the mud bottom. We all
breathed a sigh of relief when we rose on to a ridge
where we found a good bear trail going our way.
Bears usually went our way but they only came
our way when we were unarmed.
Soon after we saw the beautiful green slopes of
Mt. Kliskon and the wide flats of the east fork, and
now it remained only for us to find a ford to be able
to get up into the mountains and out of this de
testable floating lowland with its pests of mos
quitoes and its run of icy waters. But the hope
of a better country was very slowly realised.
Indeed when we did get into the high country we
still had water troubles of another kind.

152 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
We jumped out of the jungle on to the bars of silt
and began to cross the river. We forded for sev
eral miles across stream, up and down, taking one
slew after another, all over dangerous quicksands,
where the horses would mire and tumble and roll
amid stream with the packs. The last stream was
about flve hundred feet wide, very swift and deep.
This we could not attempt, reduced as we were by
the day's troubles. There was an alluring camp
ing spot about two miles south and to it we betook
ourselves over the many slews which we had to
cross. From this camp we saw several miners'
tents on the other shore. After a rest and a meal
we managed to signal to the strangers to bring a
boat and ferry us over. The horses without packs
were run into the main river and swam splendidly,
but they were carried a long way down stream.
These tents marked the location of what had been
intended as a miners' town, but the east fork was
not found to be navigable to that point, and there
fore the town moved down stream eight mUes.
Rain or storm did not as a rule delay our advance
but our next day's march was over the miners'
trail, climbing steep slopes through dense under
brush. It rained every day at sometime. During
a stay of two days with the miners there was no
interruption in the downpour. With swollen
mountain torrents and wet brush before us we
were forced to await better weather. From the
prospectors we gathered that there was a traU
for eighteen miles over the mountains to Sun-

MT. DISSTON AND THE GATHERING BASINS EAST

RUTH GLACIER
The Tokosha Mountains

SI'S

Mill
*. J C k .p c
' ll c o "0
4 Qutu

&

0

„

li_

u.

so

"

uJ

CH
D
to
3<
n5
Uj5
<5
O
1-
u
o«
H
<r
_]
uJ
"-.
H
n
2
<
s
»
U)
1,1
LJ
1
u
<
z
u <
SW 1-5?
in
W
Q
T
H
a:
D«'
o
h
>
D
0
„
J
h
D
•O
»
A TROUT STREAM

WYCKOFF GLACIER

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 153
flower, a miners' camp and beyond the country
was said to be possible everywhere for horses.
We packed our horses on the morning of the 7th
for the climb of Mt. Kliskon. It was stiU raining,
but in the course of an hour the rain stopped,
the air thickened, and a wet dew blackened the
day. As we edged along a roaring mountain torrent,
cold whiffs of wind brushed the jungle and flooded
us with a freezing drip. The ground was soft and
little angry streams rushed at us from every ledge.
The horses after their long rest set up a lively gait
but soon the feeble animals fell back and before
rising out of the timber line they were exhausted.
Two sorrels rolled down hill for several hundred
feet with their packs. We gathered up the bags
and again put on the diamond hitch but both
animals collapsed. The horses' packs were then
removed, and the train moved along up a steep
incline through grass six feet high to a camping
place under the birch trees along the edge of the
tree line.
It was about noon when we camped. The
freezing wind eased, the sky cleared, and a bright
warm sun soon changed the shivering atmosphere
into one of surprising warmth and scenic grandeur.
The gap through the Yentna canyons was choked
by clouds bunched tightly and hurrying rapidly
to the west. The great winding bed of the Yentna
visible for fifty miles was marked by a wide zone
of trees and above were extensive meadows of
tall grass running to mosses and lichens and snowy

154 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
peaks. The horses sank in the grass grunting
with a joy of fulness. The men stretched lines
around twin camp-fires and dried out their cloth
ing which had been wet for weeks. With a fill of
bacon and beans, rice and curry, and beautifully
browned biscuits, all around the soft blazes of
a birch camp-fire, with a superb outlook, the
tormenting rapids with their frigid perils were
left far behind. Life had indeed for us a new
aspect. It rained most of the night and in the morning
we were pelted with hail. Good weather does come
occasionally but like the gold it is found in small
bits. Our prospective route from here was along
easy grassy slopes, around bunches of alders into
a saddle. With bright hopes we packed for Sun
flower. Local showers flushed us as we rose but
these did not bother us as much as did the increas
ing pools in the muskeg. We naturally supposed
that as we got to the top of the mountain the water
and mosquitoes which followed us everywhere
through the low country would leave us, but not
so, it was water everywhere with an increasing
sacrifice of blood for the omnipresent insects.
For mountaineering in Alaska one requires a
good deal of dexterity in dodging water. Along
the sea level the waters have an inconvenient way
of tumbling over you unexpectedly, and one looks
forward with delight to the time when in ascending
rivers the wind-pitched swell of the ocean can do
no harm. On the rivers one gets entangled in

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 155
snags and goes aground so often that it becomes
a constant swim to keep the boat afloat. Leaving
the river bed one plunges into a dripping under
brush and gets a shower bath with shivers com
pared to which swimming glacial streams is easy.
Beyond the forest and the brush we break through
beautiful carpets of moss into water and mud,
waist deep. Rising out of the floating lowlands
into the magnificently painted uplands we prepare
for the luxury of dry feet. The camp-fire is built,
we dry out, scrape off the accumulation of mud,
and continue our ascent into the hills, but the
water follows us. It spouts out of the side hill, it
shoots over the rocks, it oozes from everywhere.
On the top of the mountain we fall into it. Along
the rivers far below we were forced to climb trees to
get out of the water. In coming up it rushed out
at us. On the top it bubbled up at us. Even above
the clouds we did not get away from the water,
for then snow fell on us from a clear sky. Water
from below, water from above, water everjrwhere.
To climb Alaskan mountains we should be web
footed and duck-feathered and wing-finned like
the penguin.
During this amphibious climbing several horses
failed and we were again forced to carry their packs
after a half day's travel. Camp was pitched in the
saddle on a little dome which sloped to quivering
marshes. Around a carefully nursed miniature
fire of green willows we tried to absorb hard-earned
comfort. To the north was the snow-streaked

156 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
summit of Mt. Kliskon, and from one of its glacial
worn shoulders we hoped to get a look at Mt.
McKinley, with a peep into the run of troubles
before us for the next few days. The tents were
pinned down on the hummocky muskeg, and on
it we folded ourselves like pocket-knives to fit the
particular ditch which fell to our lot. It rained
most of the night, and the hills, only a few hun
dred feet above, were blanketed with fresh snow.
As we crawled out of the tent to straighten out the
kinks in our twisted bodies we saw the horses
leisurely browsing in new spots of green, where the
winter snow had but recently melted. The air
was flavoured with a wintry bitterness, but the
foUowing clouds and the crimson sunbursts indi
cated better weather. A day of rest was declared
for the horses while we scattered to explore the
country about. Parker and Browne climbed to the
summit of Mt. Kliskon. Porter and Barrille moved
from peak to peak to make a topographic outline.
With Miller and Beecher I prepared to climb the
nearest peak to plan our future movement. We
ascended the most northerly peak over easy grassy
slopes to its summit . The altitude was 3500 feet . It
had rained and hailed during the night, but the day
was clear with a cold wind driving out of a northern
snow field. To the west the view was obscured.
by other peaks. To the north and east there was
an unobstructed spread of scenic surprises.
The three greatest peaks of the Alaska Range,
Mts. RusseU, Foraker, and McKinley rose out of a

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 157
wild maze of peaks and gaps. The middle slopes
were being swept by a few clouds which gave the
peaks an unnatural height. About Mt. Russell
we noted high snow fields and to the east of Mt.
Foraker a wide open space which we took to be
the gathering basin of the glaciers since given
the names of Yentna and Huntington. There was
what appeared to be a southeasterly ridge extend
ing from the easy upper slopes of Mt. McKinley
which interested us very much, but this later proved
to be an optical illusion, for instead of a continuous
ridge it was a line of peaks including Mt. Disston,
all separated by narrow canyons. To the eastward
there was a great rolling country extending from
the sharp snow-streaked foothills downward by
easy stages to the lakes and marshes and forests
that parallel the Susitna. This is the new gold
country known to the miners under the name of
the Yentna diggings. As we searched with our
glasses along the creeks we saw several miners'
tents, and about ten miles away on a bluff to the
side of a large creek we noted five tents and this
we took to be Sunflower.
About three miles beyond Sunflower, we saw
a beautiful lake out of which poured the water and
the gold of Lake Creek. This lake was surrounded
by a great green expanse that appeared like finely
cultured farm lands with fruit trees and waving
fields of grain. And about four miles beyond there
was a deep depression through which poured the
Kahilitna River.

158 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
Plans were now made for the future line of
march. The pack train must descend about one
thousand feet and move over a muskeg to the
lower edge of the lake, ford Lake Creek, and
continue over similar country to the Kahilitna
and from thence westerly through the lower foot
hills to the south of Mt. McKinley. With this
itinerary in view Beecher was sent back with
instructions to the packers to proceed to Sun
flower, while Miller and I pushed on to examine
the land over which our next march was to be
made. We had left camp without carrying lunch,
intending to return in a few hours, but the hours
passed rapidly, and we descended and stumbled
over the muskeg to the first miner's camp. We
saw no one around, and as our appetites were
sharpened and we were tired we invited ourselves
to the hospitality of the camp.
There was a cache built of logs and raised on
the stumps of four trees. It was a picturesque
little hut, out of the reach of bears and wolves,
and almost out of the reach of miners. We
improvised a ladder and found under a canvas
roof a large supply of flour, bacon, and beans. A
curious log cabin with a canvas roof was next ex
amined. It had luxurious furnishings for a pros
pector's shack. A sled was raised for a table,
there was a block of wood for a chair, and two
raised beds of roughly hewn wood and brush. A
Yukon stove completed the fittings. All kinds of
delicacies were hidden under the beds and about

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 159
the corners. Tins of condensed milk, cans of meat,
jars of marmalade, butter, and biscuits. We had
been without food for ten hours and to stumble
upon such an array of tempting things was beyond
our power to resist. We helped ourselves to a
modest lunch out of the open tins when we dis
covered the following legend :
notice.
This camp is the property of Sam. Wagner, and anybody coming
along is welcome to use camp. Leave it as you find it and pack
away what you bring. Use your own provisions as these don't
grow here. If any one steals anything from here, he will be treated
with a gun as a common thief in accordance with the law of the
land.
Sam. S. Wagner.
With the food choking us we started for Sun
flower to face the law of the land. It was a leg-
breaking run of five miles over hummocks, into
soft marshes, through brush that tore our cloth
ing in strings, and across deep, swift streams. At
Sunflower we were heartily received by the miners,
and Mr. McDonald, the principal promoter of the
new stampede, invited us to his overcrowded
camp to await our pack train. As we were adding
to the previously unfinished meal Sam Wagner
joined us. We explained our misdeed at his
camp and he eased our consciences by inviting us
to a smoke.
Just why this camp was christened " Sunflower "
it is hard to conceive. Before entering its spruce
studded and brushy confines we were forced to
ford several icy streams and as we ascended the

i6o TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
bluff the cold water dripped from our torn shirts
and trousers. With chattering teeth and boots
fuU of cold water we were attacked by clouds of
mosquitoes who took advantage of our reduced
courage. The spirit with which one enters Sun
flower is not in accord with the conception of a
land of sunflowers.

CHAPTER VII
Over Gold-Strewn Lowlands to Mt. McKinley
from the South
TN THE course of two days during which it
* rained constantly the pack train came along
and Prof. Parker reported having had a terrible
time crossing marshes. The grass however was
good and in spite of hard work the horses steadUy
improved. At noon on the 1 2th we started for the
Kahilitna, under the guidance of the Indian
Susitna Pete, "he of many devUs," whom Mc
Donald loaned to us for three days. Pete infused
new humour in our camp life but his appalling
laziness was a bad example for the discipline of
our party. Pete had never seen pack horses at
close range before, and he took a keen interest
in the animals. Furthermore he was openly in
quisitive as to our motives in bringing so many
men and so large an outfit into a wUderness where
even his own people could not subsist. His con
tact with the miners led him to the conclusion
that the new invasion was for gold. There could
be no other incentive to push so desperately into
a land of hardships. Pete had himself found a
hatful of nuggets which he sold for four hundred
161

1 62 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
dollars, and he agreed to guide us to where gold
was "heap plenty." We told Pete we were not
after gold, and asked him to guide us to the top
of the big mountain, to which Pete did not reply
but cast at us a searching eye, thinking perhaps
that either we did not tell the truth or there was
something wrong with the arrangement of our
heads. After a little better acquaintance he
seemed to prefer to believe that we shammed
a dislike for gold.
With Pete in the lead the horses struck up a
lively gait out of Sunfiower, over grassy swamps,
around beautiful lakes in which floated pond
lilies, through widely separated groups of spruce
trees around which roamed ptarmigan with their
chicks just leaving their nests, to Lake Creek. Here
Pete sat down and waited to see what we would
do. There was a raft of two logs tied together
by suspenders in the lower lake, and this was
captured by Parker and Browne for crossing. As
they pushed out into the current, the suspenders
broke, the logs separated, and the rafters were
forced to straddle both logs, and pole in an exciting
fashion. Parker had lost faith in the fording
of the cayuses, and took to rafting as a relief
from the perU of the rapids, but this rafting ex
perience brought him back to his horse with re
newed friendship. The other members of the
party each secured his favourite cayuse and
prepared to ford or swim as was our habit in the
Yentna. The horses were urged to jump with

OUT OF GREAT BLUE CAVERNS AND OVER PRECIPICES, THE GLACIAL WATERS
POUR WITH A MADDENING RUSH

THE PLUNGE OF THE GLACIAL STREAMS
Face of Huntington Glacier

MT. McKINLEY SEEN FROM BROWNE RIDGE

SUSITNA PETE
He of many devils, who places the spirit world around Mt. McKinley

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 163
men and packs from the bank into what seemed
a shallow stream, but it proved to be just short
of swimming water. Pete instead of guiding
us watched each horse to see where he could
pick an easy crossing and then pulling up his hip
boots he followed in water that was not more
than knee deep. Just before stepping ashore he
stumbled into a pool and sank to his neck. We
pulled him out sputtering Indian swear -words
and prepared to continue the march, but Pete
insisted on building a camp-fire to warm up and
dry out. We were about as cold and wet as Pete,
but the pack train could not be halted on such
a pretext. We must warm up with increased
exercise. Late at night we came to an edge of a bluff and
beyond we saw the face of a large glacier from
which rushed the first waters of the Kahilitna. We
descended about seven hundred feet and pitched
camp in the basin. On the following day we crossed
the river, edging along to get the water as shallow
as possible in small slews. We were two hours
crossing this river as the water was spread over
an area of over three mUes. Keeping close to the
northern side of the glacier we cut traU through
small spruce and dense underbrush over an old
moraine. We camped at a point where eighteen
years before the Susitna chief had hunted moose.
But so far as we were able to find out the place
had not been visited since. The next day we
rose out of the brush and timber, left the glacier,

1 64 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
and followed a stream which the miners have
named Dutch Creek.
Camping in a bunch of cottonwood where
Pete declared there was lots of gold we panned
the creeks and found colour but no pay dirt. The
pools were alive with trout and bear tracks were
so numerous that no one would venture away
from camp without a gun. Pete declared there
were seven moose beyond the next ridge, and that
ahead there were plenty of caribou. He started
out to do big shooting but he returned in a few
hours without meat, still asserting that there
were moose and caribou beyond the next range.
The march of the following day took us over the
watersheds, through the head waters of Dutch
Creek into Bear Creek. Descending Bear Creek we
came to a sudden opening of a "U" shaped val
ley on a bluff from which we were able to gather
the first knowledge of the land to the south and
east near Mt. McKinley. Two huge glaciers poured
through paraUel gaps and their waters, passing
around a group of jagged peaks, which Pete
caUed Takasha, united to make the Tokositna
River. Upon one of these glaciers we hoped to
find a highway to Mt. McKinley. We descended
about a thousand feet, cut traU through a dense
jungle of wUlows and alders, and camped in the
basin of the Tokositna.
Pete had been with us his allotted time and
was told that he might return to the miners'
camp, but he enjoyed our camps -and our food

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 165
and above all he was still thoroughly inquisitive
as to our motives. The mountain-climbing pro
ject he was not inclined to take seriously, but he
also began to doubt our mission for gold, for he
showed us gold and we did not stake the ground
as did the prospectors. Instead of using the picks,
the shovel and pan, we went about with pencU
and paper and all kinds of instruments, which he
did not understand. The cameras, the barometers,
the thermometers, the prismatic compass, and all
of the other apparatus came in for a careful scru
tiny. When the topographer got out his plane
table, theodolite, and steel tape and began to
measure a base line, then Pete looked up with
a sigh of relief, for according to his understanding
we were measuring off claims.
While peeping through the telescope of the
theodolite, Pete thought he discovered a bear
digging out a ground rat far up in the mountains.
His face lit up with a knowing expression. At last
he had discovered our real vocation. All of
this strange apparatus was to locate wild animals
and in some mysterious way to place the gold
deposits on a map, and for several days he made
himself comfortable about camp at our expense
to verify his guesses at our mission. As a guide
Pete was a failure, for our horsemen preferred to
pick their own way. But as a character study
he made a splendid model.
We had about reached the limit of advance by
pack train, therefore in our future efforts we must

1 66 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
make pack animals of ourselves. The horses
were left in charge of Printz to graze in the low
lands whUe a scouting trip was planned to the
top of a system of foothills from which we hoped to
outline our future campaign. We expected to
follow the glacier far into the foothills, and then
climb some peak offering a favourable outlook, but
the lower glacier was impossible because of its
troublesome hUls of moraine material.
The stream was too deep and swift to ford and
it rushed out of a canyon in which we could not
gain a footing. As a last resort we cut traU through
the lower brush and climbed to an old glacier shelf
at twenty-seven hundred feet. Following this
bench northward for several miles we climbed to the
top of a peak eighteen miles south of Mt. McKinley.
Pete had not been asked to join the party but he
followed our tracks, and as we got to the difficult
climb over steep slate slopes we waited for him
to catch up. Since he was with us in the rdle
of a guide and helper, I turned over my rucksack
to him but he protested against carrying it saying
his feet were sore and his shoulders pained. The
pack remained on his back, however.
The first outlook from the summit was disap
pointing. Dark clouds screened the higher foothills
and also the middle slopes of the great mountain.
Parker and Browne climbed another peak and as
they neared the top, for a few brief moments the
southerly face with its death-dealing plunges of
sheer granite cliffs was unveiled. After a quick

FOOT-HILLS EAST OF MT. DISSTON

TOP OF BRYANT PEAKS

THE FACE OF HUNTINGTON GLACIER
Waiting for the unveiling of Mt. McJCinley

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 167
but careful examination Prof. Parker pronounced
the mountain unclimbable from the south and
east, and advised against any further advance
from that side with a view of climbing. I was
inclined to coincide with the Professor but desired
to camp at our point of observation to watch the
walls of the great mountain with its easterly
environment under changing conditions of light
and shadow. For this purpose Browne volun
teered to stay with me. WhUe the mountaineering
aspect of our project was discouraged by the first
views, the chances for important exploration had
increased, and to this end orders were sent with
the returning men to move the main camp
with the horses to the side of the lateral moraine
at the base of the mountain upon which we were
encamped. The silk tent was soon erected, the teapot filled
with snow, and the alcohol lamp cheered the
frosty air. The sun sank under the clouds
behind a system of new mountains. The glory
of colour and contour was beyond the reach of the
camera, and beyond our powers of interpretation.
We were permitted only to see bits of fascinating
landscape through openings in the screen of vapour,
wherein we noted huge cornices showered by gold
and great gaps levelled by a liquid-blue and purple.
We drew the robes about us and peeped out every
few moments. The clouds seemed to settle and
freeze to the icy armour of the mountains.
The purple haze faded with the afterglow

1 68 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
and a mUky whiteness spread over the great naked
peaks with a sky-line of the purest alabaster which
remained all night as the sun edged along the north
pole. During the night the temperature was
low and the wind strong, but we were so eager
to see the changing run of light and colour of the
weird, fantastic figures over which the eye ran to
the glimmer of dawn that our shivers seemed- only
as pauses in the reading of the poetry of an arctic
dreamland. The overwhelming bigness of the whole scheme
of new mountain wilderness did not impress us
until the first beams of light burned on the sky-
scraped peaks, and shot through gaps into the
yawning cuts which separated the buttresses from
each other. The light and colour which during
the night were so soft and delicate now became as
savage as the cliffs that were illuminated. Blind
ing darts shot out from a thousand snow slants and
shivering shadows of indigo sent a wave of gloom
to our hearts. Mt. McKinley with its fifteen thou
sand feet of successive cliffs rose out of a crumbling,
tumbling sheen of lesser peaks to the level of the
gods. A larger surprise than all this was the discovery
of a huge peak midway between Mt. Foraker and
Mt. McKinley, but much nearer our point of
observation. We had seen this peak from several
points, but were inclined to put it down as a part
of the general uplift around the base of Mt. Mc
Kinley, but now we clearly made. out that it was

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 169
a giant peak in the midst of a separate group of
mountains, divided from the others by an in
trusion of slate. This mountain was christened
Mt. Disston, in honour of my friend Henry Disston.
Beyond a part of the south-east ridge of Mt. Mc
Kinley we noted Mt. Hunter, which loomed up as
a great mountain from our line of ascent from
the west in 1903, but from the south this was
seen to be a spur of the main mountain. Between
it and Mt. Disston there was noted a narrow but
deep gap through which Ruth Glacier sends an arm
to the south shoulder of Mt. McKinley. To the
south and west of Mt. Disston there is another
wide break where we believe Huntington Glacier
sends arms to a system of gathering basins.
Mt. Disston has three peaks, the highest of which
is 14,970 feet high. Its very remarkable position
in the path of an endless train of heavily laden
clouds coming out of the warm Japan current
and drifting along the Alaska Range makes it a
barrier. The great bunches of vapour sweep
against Mt. Disston, condense, freeze, and the
resulting snow scatters in the hundreds of amphi
theatres that feed the great glaciers. The easterly
drainage of Mt. Disston is sent by numerous
tributaries into Wyckoff Glacier, which is about two
and one half miles wide and twenty miles long.
From our better acquaintance of the approaches
of Mt. McKinley and its precipitous waUs we
were not able to come to' a more hopeful climbing
prospect than that so forcibly expressed by Prof.

I70 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
Parker though we gathered much other data for
future use. Descending to Wyckoff Glacier we
met the pack train and pitched camp beside a
huge boulder in the upper edge of the willows.
Here was good grass for the horses and we planned
to give them a long rest while the easterly ap
proaches to Mt. McKinley were being explored.
The climb of Mt. McKinley was now put down
as a hopeless task but we determined to devote
about a week to the study of Ruth Glacier and to
the general exploration of the easterly foothills.
Mr. Porter selected for a series of observations the
ridge separating the two glaciers.
Parker, Browne, and Barrille joined me in an
effort to cross this ridge to explore Ruth Glacier
into its tributaries. With the camp equipment
in our rucksacks we started on the morning of
July 2 ist. The weather was remarkable for
its short chilly rains and spells of burning sunshine
with a smothering heat. Our route over the gla
cier was through hills of sharp fragments of granite
and quartz, around great caverns, over ice tunnels
where the glacier waters roared with a mad rush
en route to the lower country. We were three
hours in crossing, and the task should have com
pleted the day's work, but we were eager to rise
to some eminence where we could see the curtain
rise and fall with the dusk and dawn.
Out of the glacier we climbed through brush
and high grass, over the blueberries and flowers
of the old glacial moraine, crossing bear trails

MT. DISSTON AND MT. McKINLEY FROM A FOOT HILL 20 MILES SOUTH

CAMP SCENE ON NEW GOLD DIGGINGS
In the low country south of Mt. McKinley, an area of 3,000 square miles was explored

THE EASTERN CLIFFS OF MT. McKINLEY

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 171
every few moments. We had passed so many
bear tracks that this did not now excite our
curiosity. We had taken no rifles, but Porter and Browne
had had such exciting experiences with the in-
quisitiveness of this race of bears that they in
sisted on being armed with Luger pistols. With
the ambition of a nimrod Browne kept far in
advance. We were leisurely trailing into a deep
gulch along a picturesque cascade to a point where
the stream forked. Browne descended to the
waters, crossed, and ascended on a ridge between
the streams. We picked an easier way along the
right bank close to steep slopes to the other side
of the gulch where was a high ridge with more
gradual sides marked by bunches of alders. We
were bending our heads and shoulders under the
heavy weights of the rucksacks when Barrille
shouted "Bear!" Every fellow at once braced up
and looked about for a rock or a tree to climb, but
there was nothing in sight to climb except big
mountains so we bunched up and watched the
coming of Ursus with a tight grip on our ice axes.
The great mass of brown plunged down with an
alarming speed, turning somersaults in the high
grass, edging around precipices, and vanishing
in bunches of alders, coming like a dart through
gaps to hummocks, down and down, ever near
ing the noisy stream which separated him from
Browne. He was making a bee line for us, but we
had gotten new courage and had planned a line of

172 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
defence with our ice axes. Along the crest of the
bluff which must be climbed to get to our flesh
Browne had the only gun, the Luger pistol. We
called to him to save the day and our necks, but
he did not understand. He had not seen the
thing and the rush of the twin streams was such
that he could not hear what we said. The bear
was fording the waters as we called, and began to
ascend Browne's ridge as he came toward us to
ascertain the cause of our excitement. The
bear came over the edge of the bluff and Browne
met him. They were face to face, not more than
twenty feet apart. Though excited Browne quickly
drew his Luger and took a slow careful aim. We
impatiently listened for the shot and watched
for its effect on the bear — ^but nothing happened.
The bear stood stiU, so did Browne, for what
seemed to us several minutes, and then Browne
slowly backed about fifty feet, sat down in the
grass, and watched the bear. For a time we
believed Browne had gotten out paper and pencil
and was calmly sketching Bruin, but we soon
discovered that he was awfully busy with his
Luger — and then unexpectedly the thing went off.
The bear jumped into the stream and Browne
emptied his Luger to no effect. With the bear on
the run we gathered new courage and rushed for
ward to head him off with the hope that he would
take a course parallel to Browne's ridge where
another shot might be more successful, but the bear
avoided his chance acquaintance and took to the

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 173
high hiUs, where Porter awaited him over a plane
table with equally elusive results.
Rising out of the bear haunts we camped in
a saddle from which we could see both glaciers.
Two days and two nights were spent along the
ridge with splendid results for Porter from a
topographer's standpoint, but no new mountains
or glaciers or routes to Mt. McKinley were dis
covered. The weather was daily assuming a
wintry aspect. The snow line was descending
and new ice forming every night. The com
bined result of this reconnoissance proved to us
finally the hopelessness of further mountaineering
from any point of attack which could be reached
before the coming winter closed the gates to the
upper world. In this spirit we returned to camp
to devise a plan for further exploration.

CHAPTER VIII
With the Descending Cloud Waters Back
to the Sea. The Party Scatters
OUR study of Mt. McKinley seems to indicate
that the only possible line of ascent is along
the north-east ridge, which we believe most acces
sible from the west. To reach this ridge, but more
especially to reorganise, and collect big game spe
cimens on the Arctic Slope, is our next problem.
In returning over the gold country we have de
cided to leave Porter with two assistants, two
horses, and several caches of food to complete the
map of the new country, after which he is to return
by raft to Susitna Station.
The horses were now in splendid trim. The long
rest and the young tender grass near the glaciers
infused them with a new spirit. With light packs
the return march over our old trail was rapid.
Pete left us at Dutch Creek to go to his camp on
Cache Creek. While building a cache on the Kahi
litna bluff on the evening of July 28th, two days
later, Pete stumbled into camp under a big pack
and exclaimed, "Glacier busted!"
In crossing the KahUitna we had noticed that
J 74

OVER THE MORAINE OF RUTH GLACIER
The lower ten miles of this, and most of the McKinley glaciers, was completely covered with

Copright, ,907, by Harper ana Brothers

moraine

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 175
the river was very much higher and concluded that
something had gone wrong with Pete's water devil
far up in the big mountain. But now Pete ex
plained it all. He called our attention to the basin
of a large lake to the north side of Huntington
Glacier. In our northward trip the water in this
lake was almost level with the glacier. This water
had now burrowed a tunnel under the ice and had
joined the other rushing torrents to swell the
KahUitna. In crossing Lake Creek the next day Pete decided
to try a horse and ford as we did. He selected a bay
mare, young and active, in fact too much so for
the other members of our party. The mare was
easy to approach and Pete had no trouble in being
friendly. Barrille helped him mount, the mare shot
off like an arrow into mid-stream, Pete was game
and held on. Suddenly the horse stepped into
shallow water and bucked. Pete went several
feet into the air and landed in deep water. A
wave of suppressed merriment ran along the line.
The pack-train moved on to Sunflower. Here
we camped at noon to study the miners' luck.
Gold had been found everywhere, but there was
food nowhere. Most of the miners had come in
with about a week's supply on their backs and
this was hardly sufficient to reach a creek and
scratch for colour. Most of these prospectors were
leaving in a disgruntled humour. BarriUe and
Printz in fishing with rifles secured four salmon
weighing about forty pounds each, and we fell

176 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
to salmon so enthusiastically that we did not
care to eat fish again for weeks.
While packing for our return to the Yentna,
Pete requested to be allowed to follow us with
his squaw, who had been left at Sunflower, and
without further talk brought all of his belongings
to be packed on our horses. There were several
deep streams to cross on this trail, and Pete, either
from a sense of humour or from a sense of devotion,
secured the bay mare to ferry his wife over the
cold waters. The mare only followed him a
few hundred feet and then dragged him through
the bushes and left him besmeared with mud.
The boys persuaded him that the mare objected
to his red sweater, and he promptly took this off
and packed it away, but he was not able to ap
proach the mare again. Barrille gallantly loaned
his horse to Pete to ferry his wife over the river,
but afterward it was difficult to persuade the
squaw to dismount.
As we neared the Yentna, Browne and Miller
volunteered to join me in the venture of getting
to Parker House while the pack train moved along
to Youngstown. Our mission was to take the
Bolshoy and all the supplies down stream. Horses
could not be used, for we were anxious to con
serve horse strength for the westward trip. We
found a miner who ferried us across the main
river, but after that we were left to our swimming
capacities to cross the swoUen slews. We reached
the Parker House late in the afternoon of July

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 177
31st, after the most detestable water adventures
of the entire trip. The slews were high, the whole
jungle was afloat, and we were in water for about
three hours. We determined never to repeat this
experience. About Parker House the whole river had changed.
The easterly streams were very much larger and
the main westerly slew had been reduced to a mere
rush of small rapids. Around the launch a new bar
had formed which nearly left the boat stranded in
a blind slew. We built a camp fire to thaw out,
then prepared to fit the boat for her descent to
Youngstown. It was nine o'clock and the sun had
settled into the Kuskokwim before we were ready
to start, but the afterglow was bright and the
July twilight was promising. Furthermore the
ten miles of swift waters to Youngstown would
take us only an hour. We dragged over bars, under
overhanging trees, over roots, and plunged into
the wider river near the forks, with the speed of an
automobile. But here, when we felt at ease, our
troubles began. The Bolshoy went aground on one
bar after another; finally we threw out both an
chors in disgust, and at three o'clock we dropped
on the sands in the light of a big camp-fire for a
few moments' rest. When we awoke the choco
late waters were fired by the rising sun and we
were buried in the feathery ashes blown from the
cottonwood fire. We were several hours digging
the boat out of the new deposit of silt in mid
stream and at last, freed by the main force of the

178 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
current, we pressed on to join our companions at
Youngstown. Barrille was left in charge, and John Dokkin, a
miner, was added to otu" expedition. Barrille and
Dokkin were to cut trail into the Kichatna and
prepare for the westerly trip whUe the others of
the expedition went down the Yentna in the
Bolshoy. Under less than half power we averaged fifteen
miles per hour in our plunge with the descend
ing cloud water to the sea. If our motor-boat
adventures up stream were a joy, the down
ward rush was a sport with the wildest kind of
excitement. The Balshay pushed cautiously over the bars
of the delta of the Susitna River into quiet Cook
Inlet waters. In jumping snags and shooting
rapids down the swift icy waters we broke the
rudder and bent all the blades of the propeller.
We might have beached the launch and replaced the
propeller, but the rudder was beyond repair. We
had rigged the stern so two men could steer with
oars, and in the river this makeshift worked very
well. Since the screw was pushing us along at the
rate of eight miles per hour, and the boat was in
perfect control, we decided that it was safe to risk
a passage over the thirty miles of treacherous sea
with a tide of eight miles per hour to Tyonok.
We had no ballast. The first ten miles were cov
ered quickly, but we noticed that a sea was rap
idly rolling out of the east. Two miners ' dories

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 179
were seen edging the increasing whitecaps (one
of these has not been heard of since). Turnagain
Arm, which is the storm centre of Cook Inlet, did
not look bad, but the increasing force of the wind
and sea coming out of it made us anxious. A few
steel-coloured clouds, separated by bright glis
tening bands, came hurrying out of the narrow
gap. The cloud effect was odd, though not par
ticularly suggestive of a storm — but the storm
came quickly. The little bunches of steel-coloured
vapour were hurled at us as though from a cannon.
The seas with our course gave us a broadside
which made the little craft turn and twist and
crack until we felt that she must go to pieces. We
were now compelled to take the seas on the quar
ter, making a zigzag course. This brought the
breaking, tumbling water aboard. Browne and
Printz on the poop steering with care were
twice nearly swept over into the boiling waters,
and to secure them they were fastened by lines
to the deck. The engines balked somewhat
because of the violent commotion of the boat, the
low temperature, and the mud of the cooling
waters. Two were kept busy at the engine, and
all under cover were miserably seasick. In our
desperation we tried to run into the Beluga River
out of the storm, but the endless low flats with
mountains of sea breaking over them did not look
inviting. The Chulitna, another river, was our
next hope, but as we allowed the wind and sea
to carry us into the bay we noticed that the dan-

i8o TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
gers were even greater than at the Beluga River —
seas which we estimated were fifteen feet high
rolled under us and broke on the beaches but a
few hundred feet away. One went over us and for
a second the entire boat seemed to be under water.
Some one exclaimed at this moment, "Beach
her!" but since fiats extended five miles from
shore, with a blast pitching us on shore and a sea
breaking everywhere, we were not in a beaching
mood. But we must do something quickly.
Tyonok but five miles south was to us as impos
sible, with the onshore wind and the raging sea,
as Chulitna. To cross Cook Inlet to the windward
shore was our only hope, but this was not an
agreeable prospect. The night with its awful
storm and blackness was before us. With men
lashed to the deck who might be swept off, and
with no harbour within two hundred miles, we
thought it best to push from the land out into the
night and into the gloom of the continued storm.
The wind now came in gusts, but with a force
that held us on the crests of swells as the engines
were pushed to do their best. The rise and fall
of the launch at this time was sickening. Tum
bling from the seas she would crack as if she had
struck, a rock, and frequently Prof. Parker said,
"What have we struck?"
In spite of our efforts to cross the inlet the
strong tides carried us southward, and as we
neared Tyonok the seas became choppy, the wind
eased, and the prospect of making a landing seemed

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT i8i
worth trying. We pushed under a spit, dropped
anchor, lowered our little fourteen-foot canvas
boat, and in it Browne and Printz pushed through
the breakers into the river. Mr. Finch, with a
crew of expert Indian boatmen in a big dory,
came and took us off. We had weathered the
worst storm of the season in the north country
without a rudder and with a crippled wheel! It
was an experience which none of us cared to
repeat, but it was a fitting addition to our other
hardships. For more than two months we had
been in icy streams and drenched by cold rains
in the uplands. Cold water was ever about us
whether on sea or land. Indeed, Prof. Parker
pronounced the effort of ascending Mt. McKinley
a marine task.
In the middle of August there were various
changes made in the personnel of the expedition
and in the working programme. Prof. Parker,
unable to remain longer with us because of the
necessity of his returning to his coUege duties
and other business matters, left us. The projected
trip through the range into the game country
along the western slopes was abandoned and
various parties were scattered for collecting speci
mens of animal life and to survey new dis
tricts. Owing to our repeated failures and the
advancing winter we decided that our energies
for the short period of the remaining season would
be better spent in exploration than climbing, and
to this end our plans were now made.

i82 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
At this critical moment, when we were anxious
to get to work quickly to carry out the new
plans, the Bolshoy was Hobsonized. To weather
a storm she was taken into the creek behind
Tyonok. All the other small craft of the Cook
Inlet fleet followed, and finally the big stern-
wheeler Caswell ran into the mouth of the river
and went aground. The tides were "nipping off"
and we were thus hopelessly locked in the river
for an indefinite time. After waiting nearly a week
we took our boat overland and prepared to push
up the Susitna to continue our work.

CHAPTER IX
Up the Susitna and Chulitna by Motor Boat
IN DRAGGING our boat overland the circulat
ing pump was broken in such a way that we
could not fix it. Anticipating such an accident
we had provided ourselves with an extra pump,
but to adjust this we were compelled to take
the Bolshoy to the machine shop of the Kaselif
Salmon Cannery. Through the kindness of Mr.
Witherbee the pump was fixed, and then prep
arations were made for the final trip against the
easterly torrents of Mt. McKinley.
Though it is agreeable to come out of the wUder
ness of the interior to the semi-civUisation of the
coast occasionally, we usually found the coast
environment induced ill-health for a time.
In the pursuit of our routine we were almost
constantly wet with ice- water. For two months
we travelled with wet feet. In rain or sunshine,
in wind or calm, we went without coats for the
simple reason that with increased clothing we
carried more water and therefore were less com
fortable than with light simple garments which
would dry out easUy. We slept in dripping
jungles, on floating marshes, in wind-swept clouds,
183

1 84 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
on wet snow, and in perennial frost, always with
the worst element about us. Surely here were
conditions to cause colds, rheumatism, pneumonia,
and all kinds of winter diseases, but we never
enjoyed better health. No colds, no rheumatism,
and no sickness of any consequence was reported.
But when we returned to the outposts of civilisa
tion and warm dry beds, breathed the comfort of
good shelter in luxury, were glutted with food
and prevented from taking our accustomed exer
cise, we promptly suffered from headaches, tooth
aches, colds, tonsUlitis, neuralgia, and all kinds of
physical troubles.
Our immunity from disease is a lesson in physi
ology worthy of more minute examination. The
real cause of taking cold lies in the balance be
tween the production and radiation of heat. Like
wise the real cause of many of our most troublesome
diseases, like headaches, insomnia, rheumatism,
gout, neuralgia, and many minor complaints lies in
the difference between the process of assimUation
of nutritive fluids and that of the elimination of
waste products. With an active life like ours in the
wUderness every function of the body is called into
service and there is soon established a normal
equilibrium in the movement of ceUular construc
tion and destruction. Under these conditions the
processes of repair and waste are active and
new cells are fitted into the fabric strained
under tension; worn-out tissues are removed, and
the process of normal health proceeds without

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 185
interruption because of a compelled rhythm in
all of the usual functions of life.
How different are the life-sapping conditions
of modern city life. Physical exercise is pro
hibited by the limits of space and the ease of me
chanical locomotion; mental energy is strained
to cope with the maddening pace of this material
age. The stomach is abused by unnatural foods,
the liver and kidneys are hardened by poisonous
drink, the lungs breathe a hothouse, germ-culti
vated air, the muscles wither from disease, the
whole splendid cellular organisation is disarranged
in an endeavour to fit man into an artificial
environment for which animal life was never
intended. The misfits result noticeably in the
breaking down of some important department of
biologic association, and disease follows. If moun
taineering has no other recompense than to act
as a means to arouse dormant functions and to
establish a normal balance in the laboratory of
human economy, it is a boon to mankind.
Owing to the lateness of the season and the non-
arrival of other members of our party, we now
decided to abandon the projected trip into the
Kuskokwim and scatter the party to collect
game specimens in more accessible places, and to
continue the work of exploration. Browne and
Beecher were sent into the mouth of the Matanuska
River to get moose, mountain sheep, and goats.
The Bolshoy pushing up the Yentna quickly
reached the camp at Youngstown on August 28th.

1 86 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
From there Printz and MUler were sent into the
valley of the Kichatna with five horses, also to
gather game specimens. Four horses were sent
to Porter to ease his task of transportation and
then, taking Barrille and Dokkin, I descended the
Yentna to the Station to refit for the next stage
of the work.
As a final task for our season's work I now
determined to explore the river systems and
glaciers to the east of Mt. McKinley, and to ex
amine the northern arete for a route to the top
of the mountain for a possible future ascent.
With a full load of food and gasoline the Bolshoy
was pushed up the Susitna. The upper waters had
not before been tried by a motor boat and the
miners doubted the ability of our launch to
climb the rapids. The river was moderately high,
but there was before us the chance that the early
frosts would suddenly stop the melting glaciers
from sending down their output and so reduce
the rivers that we would be unable to get down
stream. The scenery was rapidly changing from its
run of dark green to the warm colours of
autumnal foliage. Beyond the delightful line of
birch and spruce along the shore the eye rested
upon a wide expanse of muskegs cushioned knee-
deep by fiuffy verdure in delicate colours of green
and brown pegged down with buttons of cardi
nal. The currants and the cranberries had with
ered; the bears had left the river and the berries

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 187
to dig out the fat ground rats near the tops of the
foothUls; the beavers and rabbits were active;
ptarmigan were descending from the snowy high
lands and moose and caribou tracks were seen in
the sUt along the river. Altogether this race for
time against the tumbling waters and the ad
vancing winter night was very interesting.
The Susitna, like the Yentna, is divided into
many slews, and pours its brown waters over
a broad expanse in great graceful curves, but it
has a very much more difficult current to stem.
The average mid-stream current is about seven and
one half mUes per hour, and to dodge the swift
water proved a great task. Perhaps the worst
feature of the Susitna is its manner of spreading
over wide flats and then rushing in rifts over bars
that extend across the river without a deep channel
anywhere, thus offering swift and very shallow
water, which is extremely difficult for a power
boat. We ascended the first sixty miles in two days
without any great trouble, but in entering the
Chulitna we lost a day because of the shallow
water. Trying one slew after another, we were
stopped in each as we were about to push into
the main stream. Finally we took the most
westerly channel and lined the boat for a few
mUes, dragging her over bars when necessary
by placing an anchor out and puUing in the rope
by the capstan. About ten miles above the forks
the Chulitna narrows to one deep, swift channel

1 88 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
where low rolling hUls lead to a plateau through
which the river has cut a narrow channel with
canyons three hundred feet high.
The scenery in the lower river is rather tame.
The valley is wide and the trees along the river
prevent a view of the great spread of the Susitna
lowlands, but now we have risen in altitude con
siderably and are able to look over the lower
valley to the snow-streaked Chugach Mountains.
Ahead the foothills close in on the stream and in
the occasional clearing the big peaks of the Bol
shoy group are visible. The rock of the canyon
appears to be grey wacke. Above the canyon,
which is about five miles long, the river spreads
out, and as it nears the Tokositna it turns ab
ruptly to receive its waters.
Pushing the launch up the Tokositna to the
first stream from Ruth Glacier a camp was made
within easy reach of the terminal moraine. We
had gone about half way through the boUing
rapids. The big boulders here indicate that Ruth
Glacier at one time extended at least four miles
beyond its present moraine. The river above
would have been navigable by lining for a few
hundred feet, and beyond the waters seemed to
be deep and easy for about twenty mUes farther.
Preparations were made to stay here for several
weeks. BarrUle buUt a crude pier for the boat,
of drift logs weighted down with boulders. This
was necessary because of the sudden rise and faU
of the glacial waters, also because of the swell

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 189
produced by the rapids. Dokkin was so fasci
nated by the place that he prepared to winter,
intending to start mining operations there in the
spring.

CHAPTER X
Discover a Way to Reach the Summit of Mt.
McKinley. — ^Preparations for the Climb
AFTER a preliminary examination we were
convinced that our position was a very
fortunate one. The limits of navigation had not
been reached on either river, but for our purposes
it was not desirable to push the launch farther.
Within three miles of our landing was seen the
end of Ruth Glacier, and through its gap we were
able to make out a line of attack to the north
shoulder of Mt. McKinley, from which we now
discovered a way to reach the summit of that
mountain. With the Bolshoy safely harboured we began to
establish a base camp. The surroundings here
were agreeable: To the east, but a few miles
distant, were the bold uplands and the wooded
lowlands of the Chulitna and Susitna valleys;
to the west the new gold country, the foothills
of the Alaska Range in which we had left our
topographer; to the northwest, forty miles away,
far above the clouds, the summit of Mt. McKinley,
the Top of the Continent, the Ultima Thule of our
ambition. 190

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 191
In going up the Chulitna we noted carefully
every snow-slope of the big mountain. We had
already changed our minds as to the impossibil
ity of climbing the mountain. Three promising
routes were carefully plotted in our note-books,
with all possible landmarks. We aimed to tabu
late these routes at long range so thoroughly that
if we were caught in a storm while climbing we
could still travel by this previously noted line
of landmarks.
The weather during the entire summer had been
the worst ever noted along the eastern side of the
range. Continuous cold drizzling rains made the
work of exploration and climbing nearly impos
sible, but now there was a radical change: the
thermometer fell to near the freezing point in the
lowlands, and above two thousand feet the winter
snows were beginning to accumulate. There was
a dryness and briskness to the air which aroused
anew our ambitions to climb Mt. McKinley.
Our intentions, however, were not to climb to
the top. The winter, with its heavy snowfall, its
death-dealing avalanches, its storms and awful
cold, was too far advanced in the upper world.
We hoped only for an opportunity to discover a
route that would permit a future ascent and to
explore the big glaciers starting from the north
erly slopes, and to this end we prepared our
equipment. The conquest of a mountain of this size so near
the arctic circle required more than ordinary

192 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
preparation. We had no guides and no porters,
and no camp followers to take from our shoulders
the usual hardships of alpine ascents. The
very great difficulty in moving supplies to the
base of the mountain prohibited such assistance.
In preparing our equipment I had determined
to break away from the established method of
mountain climbing by reducing the number of my
party and by changing the working equipment.
The work in prospect as we had originally planned
it required not days, but weeks and perhaps months,
during which we must sleep on storm-swept
snow-fields, and for the prolonged siege we must
carry food, fuel, and shelter on our backs. With
blankets, heavy tents, and tinned food such a
project would be impossible. To meet the need
of reduced weights and increased efficiency I had
invented a new silk tent which weighed but three
pounds, was large enough for three men, and re
quired no pole.
That we might be able to sleep on ice in low
temperatures Mrs. Cook had made for us three
novel sleeping-bags which were a great success.
With a woman's ingenuity three robes were made
in such a way that they could be buttoned to
gether and hooked up along the edge, making a
sleeping-bag. However, it was not only a sleeping-
bag but an overcoat besides. The outer section
was made of cravenette, the inner section of
camel's hair blanketing, and the middle section of
the skins of eider duck covered both sides with

Mt. Church

Mt. Grosvenor

Mt. Johnson Mt. Wake
FIRST FIVE OF THE TWELVE NEW PEAKS OF RUTH GLACIER
. Camp at 5,000 feet

Copyright, 1907, by Harper and Brothers
Mt. Bradley

MT. BARRILLE ; THE NORTHEAST RIDGE

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 193
Shantung silk. These robes could be used sepa
rately or together as ponchos, and with belts they
made a perfect garment. We carried no coats or
waistcoats. The sleeping-robes furnished us all
the protection that we needed.
We did no relay work or double-tripping. We
moved no heavy tents nor other cumbersome
equipment. Rapid marches, light packs, and
but the prime necessities of camp life were to be
our method of action. We aimed to carry on our
backs about forty-five pounds each, and this pack
was to contain all our needs for ten days. We
were thus independent of each other and inde
pendent of a base camp or a supporting party.
We spent a day in the preparation of this pack.
Our clothing needed some mending, and to bake
the right kind of bread required a good deal of
study. Crackers and all kinds of factory-made
biscuits are in my judgment not only troublesome
to transport, but their nutritive value is decid
edly inferior to properly made bread. In the first
attempt we were forced to invent some kind of
mountain bread, and we then tried to imitate
zweibach, wihich proved very good. In the
preparation of any food for a high altitude one
has always to keep in mind that such food should
not require cooking nor should it contain a parti
cle of moisture. Ordinary bread would freeze so
hard that it would require hours to thaw it out,
consuming precious fuel which must be carried
on the back. Our experiment here resulted in the

194 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
invention of a biscuit which I would recommend
for any work where the temperature is low and
fuel scarce. We mixed the dough in the usual
way with baking-powder but omitted shortening.
This dough was divided into little bits not larger
than a good-sized marble and baked in the re
flector by a hot fire until quite brown, then the
reflector was moved farther from the fire and by
slow heat the biscuits were dried and hardened.
No grease was put in the pan nor in the
dough Distributed as expedition baggage we carried a
silk tent, rubber fioor-cloth, tent pegs, three
aneroids, barometers, two thermometers, one pris
matic compass, a watch, and a 5 x 7 camera with
six film packs, the total weight of which was
twelve pounds. This was distributed among the
different packs.
The luggage which fell to each as common
baggage was :
Food. ...„„. .„ .... ... . .twenty-one pounds
Fuel  two pounds
Sleeping bag  five and one half pounds
Sleeping stockings. . . . eight ounces
Alcohol stove  two ounces
Aluminum pail, cup,
spoon, and pocket
knife  four ounces
Horsehair rope  one pound
Ice axe  three and one half pounds
Rucksack  three pounds
Expedition baggage . . four pounds

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 195
Thus the total weight for each climber to carry
was somewhat over forty pounds. We carried no
extra clothing except one pair of sleeping socks.
As we left the boat we wore medium-weight suits
of woollen underwear, heavy flannel shirts, short
trousers, puttees, four pairs woollen socks, shoe
packs, and a felt hat.
We had underestimated the arctic effects of even
the low altitudes and had not our bags been made
in sections which, as ponchos, furnished a splendid
protection against the awful cold above, we could
never have been able to begin the climb.
With all these things snugly packed in our
rucksacks we started from the Balshay where the
altitude was 1000 feet, on the morning of the Sth
of September. It was a bright clear day with
the temperature near the freezing point. But a
few hundred feet from camp we saw fresh moose
and bear tracks. We followed these tracks a
short distance, and then discovered a blazed
trail cut by the gold seekers. This trail led to
Ruth Glacier, and after crossing several icy streams
in which we got wet above our waists we found
to the north side of the glacier an old caribou
trail where travelling was excellent.
As we followed these game trails a sharp wind
was blowing and the air had a touch of winter
bitterness in it. The great chasm out of which
the glacier poured its frozen product was roofed
by masses of dark gray clouds ranked closely and
hurrying swiftly. The curious tunnel between

196 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
cloud and glacier, through which we saw snowy
peaks, was weird and gloomy but our attention
was fixed upon it for it was the track of our future
efforts. On the evening of the second day we took
to the ice, crossed the first northerly tributary,
and camped on a beautiful moss-carpeted point
about fifteen miles from Mt. McKinley.
As we crossed the glacier and jumped the
crevasses Dokkin developed quite a fear of the
bottomless pits and said that he would prefer
not to trust his life to the security of his footing.
Barrille and I had been on glaciers before and did
not entertain the same fear. Indeed we regarded
this glacier as one particularly free of danger and
hardship. Its surface was unusually smooth. We
had about determined that the limit of our effort
would be the top of the north arete at 12,000 feet;
from there we believed that we could thoroughly
outline the glacier drainage and also a route up
the mountain. For this purpose Dokkin was not
needed, and since he wished to prospect for gold
in the lowlands I sent him back with instructions
to read the base barometer and to place emergency
caches along the glacier.
The snow on the glacier was hard and offered a
splendid surface for a rapid march but the advan
tage of its hardness was offset by the treacherous
manner in which it bridged dangerous crevasses.
As we advanced these snow bridges increased and
we held to our horsehair rope with more interest.

THE AllDDLE NORTHEAST SLOPES
Where avalanches tumble from slopes unseen to depths unknown

AN AMPHITHEATRE
A typical gathering basin of the Mt. McKinley glaciers

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 197
As the sun settled behind Mt. McKinley and
threw a shivering blue over the mammoth glacial
canyons about us the tent was pegged down
on the mossy shelf. Here our eyes first danced
to the dazzling glows and the wild notes of enchant
ment and despair of a snowy cloud world. We
were making discoveries in every direction. The
gates of a new world of arctic splendour had
opened. In line with the magnetic needle the
glacier continued with graceful curves and like
a thing of life, its arms reaching up to the east
erly outline of the great monarch of mountains.
To the west of this snowy bosom of ice our anxious
eyes ran from peak to peak of wondrous mountains
entombed by gauzy films of gold. With utter
amazement we counted twelve cone-shape peaks
in an air line all 12,000 feet high, the last a pinnacle
in the huge northern arete making a barrier to
the conquest of Mt. McKinley. To the east of
this wonderful line of frosted and polished cones
there was another row of less regular but sharper
peaks with sheer walls of yellow granite down
which avalanches plunged for 5000 feet without
a shelf. The scene changed every minute, clouds came
and went swiftly. The blue changed to purple,
the purple to lilac, and at last a black veil of
sadness dropped over this new world of arctic
evanescence. With this peep into the frosty splendour of
our future camping environment we knew that

198 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
at this camp we would leave behind the last
traces of life, for in the icy altitudes above neither
plant nor animal life could subsist. We were
eager to celebrate this departure from life by a
feast with the greatest possible comfort, for
feasts and comforts as we understood them would
be impossible in the upper world !
Under the silk tent was a soft carpet of moss
in delicate shades of brown and green and red.
From this moss we were able to make a cheerful
fire and thus save the precious alcohol which
we had carried thirty miles for a fire higher up.
Among the lichens of the upper rocks we heard the
shrieks of numerous ptarmigan. After some deli
cate manoeuvres that would do credit to a mount
ain goat, Barrille secured five of these with his
rifle. To make the birds palatable proved to
be a task more difficult than the hunt. With wet
moss we could not get fire enough to broil the birds.
To cut them and make a kind of soup was our
only resource but we had no salt and no flavouring
material, and the thought of a parboiled bird
without salt was not pleasant. We filled the
aluminum pail with snow, cut the meat in small
strips, and as the snow melted we tossed in the
meat. After boiling for about an hour and a half,
Barrille tasted the meat and said it tasted like
05'^sters without lemon. I tasted the soup and it
was impossible. We had carefully eliminated
salt from our food because of its tendency to
produce thirst. Barrille put in some pemmican

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 199
which gave it a sickening sweet flavour. I added
some crumbs of bread which helped a little.
Finally Barrille said, "Let's put in the mixture
some sugar and tea and our feast will be complete
and it will save us the wait for the tea after."
I yielded to the sugar and tried it, and to our great
surprise this seemingly impossible mixture passed
our palates without protest. A sweet soup with
sugared meat, what joys it brought us! But
we never repeated the experiment.
The night was dark and gloomy. There was an
occasional fall of snow from the low clouds sweep
ing along the surface of the glacier. From a long
distance there came low-pitched rumbling noises
like that of a farm waggon over a rocky road. These
were the premonitory warnings of the avalanches.
Sharp winds were piping frosty notes through
granite crevasses but in our silk tent and buttoned
in our eiderdown bags with stomachs full of sweet
soup and sugared ptarmigan, we were serenely
happy. Dawn came with a weird blue glow from the west.
The high frosted foothills to the east brightened
and warmed to an orange tint but there was a
long arctic twilight with an oppressive stillness
interrupted by sharp explosive noises due to the
movement of the glacial stream. In this twilight
we saw the stars through the silk mesh of the tent
as clearly as at night in lower lands. The outlines
of the mountains were also clearlj'^ seen through
the tent while we were resting comfortably.

200 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
As we turned out of the tent the glacier and
the mountains toward the Chulitna were for a
short time free from the usual drift of clouds. The
great tongue of ice descended four thousand feet
in about thirty miles. The lower ten miles of the
ice was completely covered by a thick spread
of finely broken granite and slate thrown up in
huge hummocks. There were curious lines of
moraine running in parallel courses above. The
striking differences in colour of these rock streams
distinguishes this glacier from all others. The
black of the slate, the buff of the granite, and the
blue of the ice made a run of attractive, contrast
ing streams.
The Tokositna mountains with their sharp
spires stood out in bold relief against a bunch
of vapours moving hurriedly into the glacial cut.
The wind on the glacier was westerly but these
clouds moved in the opposite direction, indicating
a contrary upper drift of air currents which
explained the usual cloudiness.
We made an early start over the moss to the
mountains of lateral moraine. Climbing the big
boulders we studied the s^racs through which our
course forced us. The ice in the dim morning
light looked enticing from a picturesque stand
point; great blue crevasses crossed the glacier and
huge points of ice rose like the pinnacles of the
polar pack. We enjoyed the scene but as a high
way the outlook was discouraging. The hair
rope was securely fastened about our waists and

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 201
then we descended into the widest of the crevasses,
picking our way in the blue depths below across
the glacier. Rising out of this frigid gap to the
main surface of the ice we found the snow hard
and a fairly clear spread of ice for miles ahead.
The crevasses were stiU numerous; those visible
were easily evaded, but those invisible were at
times unintentionally located by breaking through
snow bridges. Big cumulus clouds pressed
against the southern slopes of the twelve peaks,
but the narrow sky of the big blue canyon into
which we were pushing was perfectly clear. A
strong wind rolled from off the ice of the great
mountain and it pierced us like the blast of an arctic
winter. It was not untU noon that the sun broke
through the narrow gaps of sky-piercing foothills
and then we changed our course to the north
side of the glacier. The awful frost of the dense
blue shadows combined with the icy head wind
made advance rather difficult. The bright burn
ing sunbeams falling on the glittering snow of the
other side of the glacier were equally uncomfort
able, for now there fell from our faces big beads of
perspiration, which froze in icy pinnacles on our
garments. Because of the splendid progress made we al
lowed ourselves the luxury of a mid-day lunch.
We tried to set up our alcohol lamp in a big grotto,
but deflected currents of air so blew the blue flame
that the heat was lost. The tent was set up and
in it we brewed a pot of tea, ate pemmican and

202 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
biscuits, and rested for two hours, and then as the
sun sank behind the big cliffs of the main mountain
we took up the march again into the frosty
shadows. Before dark we pitched the tent on the
glacier at an altitude of 8000 feet within a few
mUes of the northern ridge, the summit of which,
4000 feet above, was at this time our ultimate
destination.

Camelshair blanket
Eiderdown adhering
to the skin, covered
with silk

Copyright, 1907, by
Harper and Brothan

CHAPTER XI
To THE North-East Ridge. — in a Snow House
AT 12,000 Feet
FROM here the stupendous wonder aroused
by the titanic uplift sent a thrill of amaze
ment over us which carried its note of fear and
admiration for many days.
Just as Mt. Tacoma surpasses all other American
mountains in quiet softened grandeur, so Mt.
McKinley transcends in savage magnificence and
in colossal proportions all mountains of the
world. While there are other mountains greater
in altitude, still these are a part of a general eleva
tion, and as individual peaks the great mountains
of the world are less attractive.
There are mountains where the blend of colour,
the scale of dripping waters, the waves of balmy
breezes run to music and poetry and quiet aesthetic
inspirations, but there is no such play on the senses
here. Mt. McKinley is one of the severest battle
grounds of nature, and warfare is impressed with
every look at its thundering immensity. The
avalanches fire a thousand cannons every minute
and the perpetual roar echoes and re-echoes
from a hundred cliffs. The pounding of the
203

204 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
massive blocks from ledge to ledge in their mad
descent makes the whole mountain world quiver
with battle spirit.
We had every reason to be pleased with our
rapid progress to this camp. In three days we
pushed thirty-five mUes into the foothUls of an
unexplored country and were now in a better
position to attack the mountain than at any
previous time during a siege of three months.
The main glacier here narrowed and turned
sharply to the south-east, sweeping the whole east
ern slope of Mt. McKinley. Feeders pulled the
snows out of numerous amphitheatres and the main
tributary sent prongs on to the great north-east
arete. Indeed the gathering basins of the glacier
were arranged like the leaves of a tree and huge
limbs connected them with the parent mass of ice,
completing the circulatory system from cloud to
sea. We realised the serious aspect of our next
ascent into a region of cloud and storm, but we were
now prepared for all contingencies. We had
seen the great mountain from every possible side
during our various campaigns. Along the west
we had followed the face of the mountain for
twenty-five miles. Along the east we had circled
the base close enough to study carefully the giant
slopes. Every glacier, every pinnacle, everything
that could possibly be seen as a landmark or a route
had been carefuUy charted. We knew that we
could not possibly carry into the clouds a sufficient

" Copyright, 1907, by Harper & Brothers

IN A SNOW HOUSE ON THE NORTHEAST RIDGE, 12,000 FEET

Copyrig:ht, 1907, by Harper and Brothers
IN THE SOLITUDE OF THE CLOUD WORLD

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 205
supply to. permit of halts during storms. We must
make progress and climb every day. Cloud
obscurity or storms must not delay us and to be
able to be thus independent of weather we must
always know exactly where we were and know
also the workable route and the dangers above
and below. These points were splendidly met
by our arctic equipment and our rapid sketch
maps of the slopes of the mountain from every
point of view.
The death-dealing spirit of the avalanches
created more anxiety here than at any other
camp, though we never failed to note this danger.
The night was dark and we were restless like
soldiers on the eve of a battle. Snugly wrapped
in our bags we rested weU, but slept little because
of the violent thunder of avalanches and the angry
rush of winds. Out of black clouds from the
invisible upper world there rushed with the noise
of a thousand cannons and the hiss of a burning
volcano indescribable quantities of rock and ice
mixed with snow and wind. The tumble from
cliff to cliff, from glacier to glacier down the
seemingly endless fall was soul-stirring to the
verge of desperation. The glacier under us cracked,
the whole earth about quivered as from an earth
quake, and as we tossed about in our bags the snow
squeaked with a metaUic ring. That third night
we felt as if we were at the gates of Hades. We
were about ready to quit and seek a more con
genial caUing. But dawn brought its usual

2o6 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
inspiration. The temperature fell to zero, a heavy
fall of snow cleared the gloom out of the sky, and
a bright orange glow softened the depressing
chaos of cliffs and spires into a sheen of sparkling
splendour. While in our bags breakfast was
prepared and eaten, and as the sun broke through
the granite gap we tumbled out, rolled up our
bags arid tents, packed all in our rucksacks, secured
the life line to our waists, and with axes in hand
we started over the fresh snow for the cliffs of the
northern arete.
The gaps of the crevasses widened, and the ice
became more irregular, but the snow improved
as we advanced. We chose the lateral moraine
of the s^rac of the first glacial tributary as a route
into an amphitheatre. Here we found ourselves
rising into the breath of avalanches too numerous
and too close for our sense of security, but there
were no other lines of ascent, so we pushed on
into the gathering basin and into the clouds.
The sunlight and snowy brightness were soon
obscured by a curious gray-blue mist. The
frosty chill of blue shadows and also the warm glow
of'sunbeams were absent and in their place a humid
chill which is the usual effect of the cloud-world.
With an eye on some rock we picked our way
through mists, over dangerous s^racs, to the frown
ing cliffs that made the circular rim of the
amphitheatre. Here at noon we dropped in the
snow, ate some pemmican, and rested long enough to
permit the clouds to part and give us a peep at the

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 207
cliffs above. We were thirsty, but it would take
more than an hour to melt snow, and this delay
we could not afford at this time. There was no
place to camp in the regions above unless we
reached the top of the ridge and we still had about
two thousand feet of step cutting and unknown
trouble above us to a possible resting place.
We rose farther and farther into the ragged edge
of quickly drifting clouds. Rising from ridge to
ridge and from cornice to cornice we finally burst
through the gloomy mist on to a bright snow-
field upon which fell the parting glow of the sun
settling into the great green expanse beyond the
Yukon. We were on the divide, the wall between
the Yukon and Susitna.
It did not take us long to discover that we were
on the battle-ground and in the firing line of
clouds from the tropic and the arctic. The winds
came in gusts now from the east and then from
the west ; with each change there was a fall of snow
and a rush of drift. This locality did not appeal
to us as a camping ground. In seeking for a shel
tered nook we found a place where the snow was
hard enough to cut blocks with which to buUd
a snow house. In less than two hours our dome-
shaped Eskimo igloo was completed and thereby
shelter and comfort were assured us for the time of
our stay on the ridge.
The ice axes were driven into the snow, a rope
was stretched, and on this line we hung our wet
stockings and puttees. We had previously leamed

2o8 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
that the best way to dry things out was to aUow
them to freeze and on the following moming to
shake off the frozen moisture. Everything else
was taken inside the snow walls and a block of
snow was pulled in as a door.
In the snow dome we were splendidly housed
from the wind and drifting snows. Even the
deafening rush of the avalanches was muffled.
The temperature outside was below zero but we
were perfectly comfortable within. Thin sheets of
rubber were spread on the floor first, the silk tent
and all our outer clothing were next put down. The
sleeping bags were placed on this and into them
we crept with the confidence of enjoying a warm
restful night. Our shoes and cameras and other
bulky things were rolled up in our rucksacks and
used as pillows. This done the snow camp was
complete. For the culinary process Barrille packed the
aluminum pail with fine snow while I filled the
lamp with wood alcohol. Soon the happy buzz
of the numerous blue jets lowered the snow line
and more snow was added. During this time we
rested comfortably in our bags and braced our
teeth to the hard fragments of tallow and dried
beef. We had a sickening empty feeling and
ravenous appetites and felt like spending the night
in filling up. We were not at all particular as
to the menu. I have heard mountain climbers
speak of the difficulties of digestion; this was not
one of our complaints, anything to fill the gap

Coiiyright, 1907, by Harper and l^rotherj
INTO THE BREATH OF DEATH-DEALING AVALANCHES
Picking steps over treacherous ice and snow, around polished
spires, up and up to the heaven-scraped granite of the top

" Copyright, 1907, by Harper and Brothers
ON THE BRINK OF AN ARCTIC INFERNO, 14,000 FEET

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 209
would have been appreciated. Fortunately pem
mican changes a hungry man's mind very quickly,
and this with tea and biscuits raised an atmos
phere of contentment which could not have been
equalled by a course dinner. We lived a simple
life indeed.
Little streams of snow drifted through the cuts
between the blocks that night, but we rolled over
now and then, shook the snow from the flap about
our faces, and renewed our slumber with even
increasing joys. At the end of twelve hours we
woke up with a gastric emptiness which called
for immediate attention.
As we crawled out of the snow house we noted
to our surprise that the clouds below had separated
and were drifting northerly, leaving unveiled the
unexplored mountains and glaciers, the study
of which completed our main mission.
Here to the east we noted the burial place of a
great system of clouds which, arising out of the
warm waters of the Japan current far away to the
south, drift poleward, and are interrupted by
the sky-scraping peaks of the Alaska Range. A
local current of air carries the clouds north-east
and drags them from one glacial depression to
another, over ridge after ridge, and peak after
peak, until the beautiful forms of the clouds
are tom into shatters and drift in sections to the
surface of a glacier, dropping tropical humidity
to augment the arctic output of the stream of
glacial ice.

2IO TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
The west of the mountain presents a face twenty-
five miles wide with one great glacier (Hanna)
sweeping the entire reach. Here, too, we noted
the destination and the final resting place of an
endless train of active clouds. These clouds came
out of Bering Sea and the Arctic Ocean, drifted
against the range a hundred miles southward, and
then like the clouds from the east they too were
carried along the western side of the range by a
north-east current. Thus the vapours of the
tropics were precipitated to the east while the
vapours of the Arctic were precipitated to the west.
Here then is the meeting place of the frigids
and the torrids. In every gulch, glacial gap, or
valley the local winds rolled down from the upper
slopes carrying down torn bits of clouds, with the
result that there was a never-ceasing rush up and
down, to and fro, in the cloud world. But by
far the most interesting battle was along the
saw-tooth cuts of the great north-east ridge. Here
we noted a ceaseless warfare between the pale
arctic clouds and the dark Pacific clouds. There
was a great deal of change on the ridge in baro
metric pressure as we had noted, winds rushed over
the ridge from the Susitna valley to the Kuskok
wim and vice versa with a dangerous suddenness,
carrying along clouds and drifting snow in huge
quantities. All of this could be easUy seen from
our fourteen -thousand-feet ditch, while we shivered
and hoped for better times. With the upper
clouds on both sides of the range moving along

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 211
the general trend of the mountains, the lower
clouds drifting away from the range, and the
battle of angry vapours over the arete, there
was a wilderness of commotion in the cloud world
which quite dazzled us.

CHAPTER XII
To THE Brink of an Arctic Inferno. — ^A Night
IN A Ditch at 14,000 Feet
IN ABOUT an hour we had completed our observ
ation and then we turned for a look at the
upper slopes for a route to the top. A few stratus
films were brushing the snowy crests above, and
the sun poured a wealth of golden light over
the giant cliffs, illuminating the rushing snow of the
plunging avalanches with a wild fire. Along the
east among the cliffs that had seemed impossible
from below there were several promising lines of
attack along narrow overhanging glaciers and
over steep ice-sheeted ridges. Every possible
route however from this side was seen as the
eye followed it to the summit to be crossed some
where by avalanche tracks. Along the west there
was a similar danger from the sweep of the cease
less downpouring rock and snow. Our only.
chance, and that seemed a hopeless one, was along
the cornice of the north-eastern arete upon which
we were camped. For some distance there was a
smooth line of crusted snow with a sheer drop of
about 4000 feet to either side. At about 13,000
feet this line was barred by a huge rock with

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 213
vertical sides of about 1,000 feet. Beyond this
rock there were other cliffs of ice and granite, and
beyond this was a steep arete over which we could
go from the west to the northern face on to a
glacier and into a valley between the two majestic
peaks which we now saw graced the summit.
After so many failures along lines of attack
which looked good from a distance we concluded
that to determine the feasibility of this route it
would be necessary to pick a way around the big
rock and into the median depression of the moun
tain. If we succeeded, however, in doing this
we might as well prolong our siege and try for the
top. We had food and fuel enough for this, but
the winter was so far advanced that the venture
seemed imprudent.
With a half notion to climb to the summit, but
with a more determined resolution to pick a route
for a future ascent, we adjusted our rucksacks
and life line and started on the morning of Septem
ber 1 2 th along this cornice. Soon the big southern
clouds swept the mountain and we were left to
grope among the spires in the misty blue of the
cloud world. We found a way over a narrow
cornice around the big rock and then we dug
and scratched for a footing among the ice blocks
in the narrow gorges between sharp pinnacles.
With the dimness of the light and the limited
range of vision we could not determine here the
prospective course of avalanches, and this un
certainty gave us a great deal of anxiety. Our

214 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
course was very irregular, winding around granite
walls into gloomy s6racs, over dangerous snow
bridges, the climb becoming more impossible with
every step.
Out of an amphitheatre with its crescentic
walls of granite polished by the ice of ages, over
tumbling blue-ribbed streams of ice into the aerial
mystery of sweeping clouds, groping for hours in
the frosty night, picking a sure footing among
treacherous cliffs, we at last broke through the
clouds and climbed on to a wind-rasped cornice
for a rest.
Every moment some colossal block thundered
out of the clouds followed by a rumbling train
of snow and ice. With bumps and roars and
hisses, the seething run of d6bris came from cliffs
unseen and plunged into echoing depths incon
ceivable. For days and months and years and
centuries these reducing trains have been at work
thus by chemical action, by the winds, by the
sweep of the clouds depositing snow, by the action
of the ice melting, by the spreading of ice in the
rock crevasses, by the general expansion and con
traction of heat and cold, by the force of gravity.
The time must come, if this cooling earth lasts
long enough, when this great majestic tier of
chiselled granite above the clouds will aU have
settled into an ugly mound, a mere forgotten grave
of an alpine monarch.
We continued our steep ascent farther and
farther into the icy clouds curling above our

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 215
heads up the knife edge of the north arete,
around a great spur, from cornice to cornice,
cresting sheer cliffs over which there was a
sickening drop of ten thousand feet, into the
mystery of a lower arctic world, and then began
the awful task of making a ladder for two thou
sand feet. With eternity but an easy step below
every moment of this climb we went from hanging
glacier to snow slopes, from blue grottoes to
pink pinnacles, from security to insecurity, with
the thundering rush of avalanches on both sides.
If there ever was a more disheartening task it has
not been my misfortune to be confronted with
it. We would have been glad enough to return and
give up the task at this time but night was near
and the little light that remained was blotted
out by the gloom of a coming snowstorm. To
return over the dangerous cornices in the dark
was impossible. To camp anywhere within reach
was equally impossible. For self-preservation we
must move up out of the dangerous area. Keeping
the rope tight we chipped steps as near the ridge as
was possible and remained sheltered from the wind.
One hundred steps and Barrille took the axe, then
another one hundred steps and it was my turn.
We could not see the slopes above for more than a
hundred yards, and below everything was ob
scured by twisting clouds and drifting snows. It
was black at seven o'clock. We dropped into
the steps from sheer exhaustion. There is a limit

2i6 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
to human endurance, and we had reached that
limit, but where could we rest and live for the
night? There were snow slopes not far away,
but they were swept by avalanches. The safest
place was along the steep arete.
Our axes had been kept chopping steps all day,
and our rise in altitude was very little, but we
got beyond the barriers and out of the area of
windy cliffs and frigid crags out on a steep snow-
sheeted arete.
We uttered a sigh of relief as we rose on the icy
steps of our Jacob's ladder, out of the gloomy
dangers from below to the upper edge of the cloud
zone. We uttered a good many other sighs of
despair before the night was spent. The little
colour which we were able to note between the
cloud rifts indicated sunset. It was 7:20 by
the watch, the mercury stood at 11° below zero,
and the compass pointed to the tip of a new
peak above the clouds 28° east of north, the
only mountain visible. The thin blue haze about
us was thickening to a colder blue, ragged out
lines of torn cloud filaments were noted, crys
tals of snow fell as we rested and talked of the
chances of camp or shelter on a cloud-swept slope
too steep for a seat. The blackness of night was
thickening fast and its chill increased in penetra
tion with the decrease of the light. We knew
that we could not descend to a sheltered spot, for
there was none within the day's climb. The
darkness was too far advanced and we were too

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 217
nearly exhausted to risk a farther ascent into
the unknown dangers above. The slope upon
which we had cut steps and seats in the ice was
nearly 60° but the ice was secure, the snow firm,
and the danger from avalanches small. As a
duty to ourselves and our families we had no
alternative but to dig into the icy side of the
mountain and hold on for the night.
In this side-hill ditch we fitted ourselves securely
with a view to the effects of slumber movements.
For if we slipped from the ditch we would plunge
thousands of feet through the clouds to the smoky
depths of an arctic inferno. We wrapped our
selves in a bundle with all of our belongings
including the silk tent, then lashed the bundle to
the axes, which were securely driven into the ice
and in this way we held on for the night. The
fine snow drifted down our necks and into the
cracks of the dug-out, but we did not dare to
move for fear the snow would fill the gap, crowd
us out, and we would be left to hold on to the
axes to stay us from a death plunge.
Avalanches thundered down from both sides
at close range. The night was very long and
stormy. There were frequent rifts in the clouds
through which we saw clusters of stars framed
by silvery films of vapour — ^beautiful pictures
in the retrospect, but we were then not in a
humour to appreciate the glories of our outlook.
We were interested more in the break of day and
in the chances of getting to a place of greater

2i8 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
security. The thought of going to the top of
the mountain was dispelled by the misery of that
awful night. We were too tightly bundled to
disagree actively, though we spent wakeful hours
in mUd arguments. We agreed, however, on two
points : we must hold on, freeze to the ice if possible,
and with the first light make for the low country,
abandon mountain climbing, and take to a better
life. But with the break of day with its fetching
polar glory all of this disheartening note of aban
donment and danger changed. Now our deter
mination to retreat resolved itself into a resolution
to go to the top.
With the chill of dawn the upper clouds froze
to the slopes, while the lower clouds settled lower
and lower into the maze of glacial canyons.
Through these lower clouds there was a burst of
fire and with it the great glittering spires above
blazed with a glow of rose. This glow lasted
but a short time, then the normal frost of purple
and blue submerged every hope of feeling heat
or seeing warmth in colour. As we dragged
ourselves out of this icy ditch of terrors we were
able to see that we had passed the barriers to the
ascent. The slopes above were easy, safe, and,
connected, but the bigness of the mountain was
more and more apparent as we rose above the
clouds. Instead of our having to climb one
mountain we were forced to deal with peak upon
peak and mountains within a mountain. The
task enlarged with the ascent. Rising over crest

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 219
after crest we finally reached what seemed to
be the top of the mountain. But it was only a
spur, and beyond it were many other spurs. The
air became clearer and sharper with every step,
and our exhaustion, mostly the result of sleepless
ness and anxiety of the previous night, was in
creasingly felt.
Soon after noon we swung from the arete
easterly to the glacier. Here owing to fatigue
progress was slow.
The snow was hard and the slope such that
little step-cutting was now necessary. Along
the glacier to the gathering basin near the summit
the prospective route rose in easy slants to our
goal. Above it was perfectly clear, but below
there was an ever-changing drift of cloud ob
scurity in which we had spent two days of despair.
If torment is the test of Hades then the habitat
of Mephisto was in that cloud-world at our feet.
There is a sinister and savage ferocity along
the middle slopes of shelves and cliffs and clouds
and storms that is accentuated by a precarious
footing as well as by the rush and thunder of
avalanches. Everything was snow covered as we
looked over the sheen of death and destruction.
There was absolutely no semblance of life in sight
and it seemed months since we left the comfortable
camp-fires. If it were a mountain of skulls it
would not convey a more forcible sense of gloom.
In picking a way among the seracs we soon
found that our muscles refused to work. Though

2 20 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
the climb was easy we could not gather enough
energy to continue the ascent. The night in
the ditch and the prolonged expenditure of energy
along the middle slopes had pressed us to the
verge of collapse. Under these circumstances
it seemed best to seek a good camping spot on the
glacier with a view to resting for a day to recuper
ate and store up force for the final spurt of the
upper ascent.

CHAPTER XIII
Glory and Desolation above the Clouds
PROM 16,300 TO 18,400 Feet
WE FOUND a level space in a small amphi
theatre where the snow was hard enough
to cut blocks for a snow house, and though the view
was magnificent beyond anything previously seen
we turned our backs to visual glories and crept
into the snow hut and into our bags to prepare
for food and a long rest. WhUe the alcohol lamp
spent its feeble heat against the pail of snow we
dozed, to dream of far-off comfort, awaking every
few moments to the chills of an icy reality. Through
the door we peeped at the changing sheen of gloom
of the lower world.
For desolation it would strain the English
dictionary to describe it, but there are shades of
desolation as there are grades of intoxication.
Last night the note of abandon was soul destroy
ing. From our dug-out in the treacherous drop
the outlook and the world about was desperately
gloomy. To-night with the sparkle and glitter of
the snowy world above the clouds, illuminated
by glowing stars that hang like huge arc lights

2 22 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
from a black sky, we see another phase of desola
tion, one full of hope, inspiration, and promise.
In the lower climb there was a thrUl which
fired ambitions. The beauty of the naked cliffs
raised us to a pitch of ecstasy which made us for
get fatigue, but in the upper world all of this was
changed. It was a region of harmony in colour
and contour. A suffusion of light with subdued
colour blends to frosty shades. A softening of
contours by a flooding of snow crystals fills the
ugly gaps and rounds off the sharp corners. But
nevertheless it is a region of pulseless eternity
where the spirits with the clouds fall to earth
in weeping sadness. The lack of movement, the
oppressive stUlness, the absence of every speck
of life impressed upon us the fact that we were
utterly alone; the only breathing creatures in
a great expanse of mystery far above the habitable
world. As the stifling blackness of night was bleached
by the blue of dawn the whole weird run of un
reality changed. The upper world of silent glory
and snowy wonder was beyond human interpre
tation. We have a simUar white world of deathly
glory in the low polar wilds but there the clouds
are above and there is sometimes a glow of warm
colour, but here the clouds are below, the sky is
black, and a frosty steel-coloured light is poured
over the sparkle of the snow-fields. There is
however a weird fascination in this curious supra-
cloudland. It is difficult to grasp the thread

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 223
with which it rolls up its spool of mysteries, but
to me the most striking is the paradox of light and
colour : at your feet a dazzling whiteness, overhead
a dense blackness, in space a gloomy neutral play
of dull blues.
When I was a boy I had a distinct notion
of the geography of heaven and of the regions
above the clouds. The splendid colours of sun
bursts, sunsets, and indeed all brilliant displays
were manifestations of the glory of heaven, which I
placed among the clouds. I did not know that
there was a cloud-world rather close to the crust
of the earth, and beyond, far beyond the blue sky
which we believed to be the limit of space there
was a great unknown without colour or light!
In later years I was inclined to push the actual
location of heaven into this mysterious void far
away, but to-day I am bound to confess that I
believe the spiritual future which we in a figura
tive way style heaven is very near the terrestrial
surface. As we ascended into this cloud world we thought
of angels in light attire with wings, and of an easy
world of rare glory. But how different was our
realisation. As the great bunches of vapour which
we call clouds brushed against us along the middle
slopes we were submerged by a gloomy darkness
preceded and followed by icy gusts of wind while
the incessant showers of fine snow made a weeping
spectacle. This environment of the cloud world
was indeed opposed to a heavenly or even a con-

2 24 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
genial spirit. We were in desperate mood, with
out poetry or aesthetic appreciation; with heavy
packs on our backs, treading a path through deep
snow up dangerous slopes, where wind drove snow
into our faces, down our necks, withal a depressing
monotony of colour, and with no safe place where
we could rest our weary bones. From cliff to cliff,
from grotto to spire, from cloud to cloud, up and
up farther and farther into whirling vapours we
pushed untU at last when we thought night had
dropped over us, we suddenly burst through the
clouds into a glistening pearly twUight with stars
hanging low like electric lights. The brUliancy
of this glittering half light was new to us, the
darkness of the sky was even more surprising.
This however as we leamed later is one of the
natural conditions of the land above the clouds.
The snow here was such that we were able to buUd
a snow house and in it we packed ourselves for a
long rest.
As the stars were beginning to fade on the fol
lowing moming, the sixth day of our climb, we
kicked out the snow block which made otir door,
and crawled on to the crackling surface. The
temperature was 15° below zero. The light in
creased rapidly, and the oppressive stiUness con
trasted strongly with the noisy rush of avalanches
below. The marvels in this new world of ice
were slow in penetrating our frosty senses. Even
after we began to appreciate the anomaly of
things we questioned our perceptions. We were

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 225
surely in a land of paradoxes. Here looking
down ever so far below, we could see a sea of
clouds whose upper filament waved in the gold
of the rising sun, while above us was a dark gray-
blue sky with the stars still visible. The snow
and the rocks glittered with a weird brightness
seeming to come out of the earth — darkness above,
light from below; things were certainly topsy
turvy. This supra-cloud world is a land of fantasy,
of strange other-world illusions. Here summers
are winters and winters are what a polar traveller
believes Hades ought to be.
Starting from camp, at 16,300 feet, picking
a traU around successive sdracs, our progress was
good. We still felt the bad effects of our over
worked muscles on the lower climbs ; but we hoped
to be able to push on to the summit that day.
However the increasing altitude, the very low
temperatures, and the lack of nerve energy all
combined to make our ascent extremely difficult.
During the frequent breathing spells we ex
amined the upper reaches of the mountain.
We had seen the summit from various sides, but
we were not prepared for the surprise of the great
spread of surface. From below the apex appears
like a single peak, with gradual slopes. From the
northern foothUls we had previously discovered
two distinct peaks. But now, from the upper
slopes, we saw that there were several miniature
ranges running up to two main peaks about two
mUes apart. To the west a ridge with a saddle.

2 26 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
to the east a simUar ridge, with one main peak
to the south-east. This peak was the highest point,
and to it we aimed to take our weary spirits.
Compared to our lower climbs the slope here was
ridiculously easy, but the work was hard, out
of all proportion to the seeming difficulties. After
slowly making a hundred steps we puffed like
race horses on the home stretch, and were forced
to stop and gasp for breath; another hundred
steps and another gasp, and so on. We tried
to pull ourselves together in a renewed compact
to rise, but do what we could, cheer each other
as we could, the thing seemed impossible, purely
because of our inability to raise one foot above
another. Our legs were of wood and our feet of
stone. After prodigious efforts we were forced
to camp at 18,400 feet with not enough energy
left to talk or to eat.
The silk tent was pitched in a gathering basin
under the shadow of the topmost peak and as we
crept into the bags we were so reduced by frost
and the awful breath-reducing struggles that we
were but half conscious of the surroundings.
The circulation was so depressed that it was
impossible to dispel the sense of chilliness. In
creased clothing or bed-covers did not seem to
make much difference. The best thing to dispel
the shivers was hot tea. The alcohol-lamp was not
a success at this altitude. But with a good deal
of nursing we succeeded in melting snow enough
for our drinks. The water boiled at a point so

IN THE SILENT GT.ORY AND SNO^VY WONDER OF THE UPPER WOPLD, 15,400 FEET

Copyright, 1907, by Harper and Brothers Copyright, 1907, by F. A. Cook
THE TOP OF OUR CONTINENT
The summit of Mt. McKinley, the highest mountain of North America. Altitude, 20,390 feet

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 227
low that the tea was weak and never too hot.
Indeed, if we desired the real flavour of the tea,
it was necessary to eat the tea-leaves.
It was a restless and exciting night. Restless,
because the task of breathing less than one half
an atmosphere and pumping blood through col
lapsing arteries abnormally taxed our powers.
Exciting, because with heaving, pulsating bodies
we felt as if the end of life had come and the door
of heaven was about to open.
This last night of the climb was one which we
will long remember. We were not able to see
anjrthing with a normal perspective until long
after midnight. Unable to sleep we were only
permitted to rest in a semi-reclining position with
shoulders raised, in which attitude the heart was
eased and breath came and went with less effort.
We had to contend with a very difficult combin
ation opposed to our comfort. With our strength
reduced by the lower climb, with no reserve en
ergy, with a low temperature to which were added
the natural depressive effects of great altitudes,
we were indeed much handicapped. Though the
temperature was only 16° below zero, in its effects
it was colder than 60 below at sea level. The
shivers of this night with the pumping, thumping
hearts and the spasmodic breath will always
stand out as the worst torment of our endeavour.
Words did not freeze and tumble about us as
did the words of Mark Twain's hero at the north
pole, who found himself knee-deep in his own

228 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
eloquence, but as we raised the flap from our faces
we did find ourselves nose-deep in the frost of our
own breath.
We believed this to be our last camp but the
outcome of our final assault was not at all a
hopeful one. In a critical examination of our
selves we found that all of the pleasurable sensa
tions had merged with the strain of the terrible
task of climbing, but there was still the mechanism
of duty which pushed us upward. The courage
bom of inspiration, the enthusiasm arising from
anticipation, and aU of the spirit of the joys of
the pioneer ascent had been put into the slav
ish bent to press one foot above another to the
summit.

CHAPTER XIV
To the Top. — The World in White and
THE Heavens in Black
LONG before dawn we rolled out of the sleep
ing bags, crept out of the tent, and then
placing the robes about our shivering shoulders
we studied the brightening blue of the topmost
pinnacle of the Alpine North Pole. I never saw
a more impressive spectacle. The peak loomed up
like a giant mountain in the curiously deceptive
light before dawn. In reality it was but two thou
sand feet above our camp, a mere fraction of the
altitude of the great mountain, but in our enfeebled
condition the peak appeared as high and as diffi
cult as the entire uplift from the first camps. As
the darkness merged into twilight the sky bright
ened, but as the sun rose the sky darkened and
the cold increased.
With numb fingers and teeth chattering we
packed our sleeping bags and a light emergency
ration in the rucksacks and then with a grim deter
mination we started for the culminating peak. The
sun soon rose far above the green lowland beyond
Mount Hayes and moved toward the ice-blink
caused by the extensive glacial sheets north of the
229

230 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
St. Elias group. Our route was over a feathery
snow-field wliich cushioned the gap between rows
of granite pinnacles. During most of this
part of the ascent we were in frosty shadows
where the cold pierced to the bone, but when we
did rise into the direct sunbeams there was a dis
tinct warm sensation. Ten yards away, however,
in another shadow, the air was as cold as during
the polar night. The sunbeams seemed to pass
through the air without leaving behind a trace of
heat, similar to the effect of an electric spark
through space.
A magnificent spread of an other-world glory
ran in every direction. A weird world in white,
with stars fading in gloomy blackness. Far below
were milky waves of clouds and stiU farther down
ugly gaps of indigo into which the vapours settled
to their last resting-place. At the present writing
I am tempted to enlarge on the awe-inspiring
grandeur of this scene, but at the time we were
too miserable to spend even visual energy on mere
scenic effects.
An advance of twenty steps so fagged us that we
were forced to lean over on our ice-axes to puff
and ease the heart; another twenty steps and
another rest, and so on in a life-racking series of
final effort.
The last few hundred feet of the ascent so
reduced our physical powers that we dropped on
to the snow, completely exhatisted, gasping for
breath. We had gone so near the limit of human

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 231
endurance that we did not appreciate the proud
moments of the hard-earned success. Glad enough
were we to pull the eider-down robes about us,
and allow our thumping, overworked hearts, as
well as our lungs, labouring in less than half an
atmosphere, to catch up. We puffed and puffed,
and after a while the sickening thump under the
left fifth rib became less noticeable. Breath came
and went easier, and then the call of the top was
again uppermost. It was an awful task, however,
to pick ourselves up out of the deep snow and
set the unwilling muscles to work pulling up our
legs of stone. The mind was fixed on the glitter
of the summit, but the motive force was not in
harmony with this ambition.
Just below the summit we dropped over an icy
shelf on the verge of collapse. After a few moments
we gathered breath and courage and then for the
last stage the life line tightened with a nervous
pull. We edged up along a steep snowy ridge
and over the heaven-scra,ped granite to the top.
At Last ! The soul -stirring task was crowned with
victory; the top of the continent was under our
feet. Our hands clasped, but not a word was
uttered. We felt like shouting, but we had not
the breath to spare. The thing that impressed
me first was the noble character of Edward
Barrille, the bigness in heart and soul of the man
who had followed me, without a word of com
plaint, through hopelessness to success; and then
after several long breaths the ghastly un-

232 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
reaHty of our position began to excite my frosted
senses. Curious experience this. It was September
1 6th, the temperature i6 degrees below zero, the
altitude 20,390 feet. The Arctic Circle was in
sight; so was the Pacific Ocean. We were inter
ested mostly, not in the distant scenes, but in the
very strange anomaly of our immediate surround
ings. It was ten o'clock in the morning, the sky
was as black as that of midnight. At our feet the
snow glittered with a ghastly Ught. As the eye
ran down we saw the upper clouds drawn out in
long strings, and stUl farther down the big cumu
lus forms, and through the gap far below, seem
ingly in the interior of the earth, bits of rugged
landscape. The frightful uncarmy aspect of the
outlook made us dizzy. Fifty thousand square
miles of our arctic wonderland was spread out
under our enlarged horizon, but we could see it
only in sections. Various trains of morning clouds
screened the lowlands and entwined the lesser
peaks. We cotUd see narrow sUvery bands marking
the course of the Yukon and the Tanana, whUe
to the south, looking over nearby clouds, we had
an unobstructed view. Mt. Susitna, one hundred
mUes away in a great green expanse, was but a
step in the run of distance. The icy cones of the
burning volcanoes Redoubt, lUiamna, and China-
bora, the last two hundred mUes away, were clearly
visible with their rising vapours. StUl farther
the point of Kenai Peninsula, and beyond, the

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 233
broad sweep of the Pacific two hundred and fifty
miles away !
A record of our conquest was, with a small flag,
pressed into a metaUic tube and left in a protected
nook a short distance below the summit. A
round of angles was taken with the prismatic
compass. The barometers and thermometers
were read, and hasty notes jotted down in our
note-book. Most impressive was the curious low
dark sky, the dazzling brightness of the frosted
granite blocks, the neutral gray-blue of space,
the frosty dark blue of the shadows, and, above
all, the final picture which I took of Barrille, with
the flag lashed to his axe, as the arctic air froze
the impression into a relief which no words can tell.
The descent was less difficult, but it took us
four days to tumble down to our base camp.
Dokkin, during our absence having grown
enthusiastic about the chances of gold and copper
mining, asked to be grub-staked. We had food
enottgh for one man for a year, and left this with
our companion to seek his fortune in the newly
explored regions. The Balshay descended the
river quickly and, taking the scattered parties from
the Susitna Station on the next day, we pushed
on to Tyonok, and to Kenai, and from there south
ward by the regular steamers.

APPENDICES

APPENDIX A.
Sketch of Geology of Mt. McKinley Region
by alfred h. brooks
THE western part of North America is trav
ersed from south to north by a moun
tainous region known as the cordUlera. This
Cordillera runs parallel to the Pacific shore line,
trending north-westerly through the United States
and Canada and then, after entering Alaska and
near the one hundred and fiftieth meridian, curv
ing to the south-west around the Gulf of Alaska.
This great bend is the topographic reflection of
underlying bed rock flexures. It is here that the
bed rock terranes, which have maintained a north
westerly direction throughout North America,
turn to meet north-westerly structures which,
geologically speaking, belong to Asia. At this
meeting point between rock trends of the old
world and the new lies the Alaska Range, and
almost at the hinge liae rises the huge dome of
Mt. McKinley.
The Alaska Range — aptly named inasmuch as it
is the most magnificent range of the Territory —
stretches northerly from an unexplored region
about Lake Clark to the latitude of Mt. McKinley,
then bends north-easterly, and skirting the south-
237

238 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
ern margin of the Tanana Valley, finaUy, through
its subordinate spur, the Nutzotin Mountains,
merges with the St. Elias Range near the head of
the White River.
The crest line of the range, about ten thousand
feet above sea-level, strikingly even and well-
defined, lies close to its western margin, where the
mountains fall off abruptly to a gravel-floored
plateau which slopes to the Kuskokwim and
Tanana vaUeys. Eastward (from the crest line)
the mountains descend more gradually to the
Susitna lowland. The maximum width of the
range is some sixty mUes, whUe the crescentic
axis has a length of about five hundred.
The higher peaks are domes with precipitous
walls, whUe the connecting crest lines are sharp,
with steep descents. The drainage is mostly
carried eastward through steep-waUed valleys,
or often actual canyons. Throughout the high
mountains the upper reaches of the drainage
channels are buried in glacial ice, from the n^ve
fields fUling the glacial cirques at the heads of the
valleys. On the coastal side the glaciers reach
well down toward the Susitna lowlands, but on the
inland side they are far less extensive, reaching
only to the margin of the gravel plateau already
referred to.
The component strata of the Alaska Range in
clude various types of sedimentary rocks which
were laid down at different periods, some at least
as early as the older Paleozoic, others as late as
the older Tertiary. During the past ages some

CLOUDS AND CLIFFS, 13,000 FEET
Climbing and camping during gloomy days and frosty nights in storm-driven clouds

Copyright, 1907, by Harper and Brothers SCENE OF GLACIERS, PEAKS AND CLIFFS
Shoulder of Mt. McKinley, a cliflf of 8,000 feet. Ruth Glacier, a freight carrier of the cloud world. The Great White Way, where
the polar frosts meet the Pacific drift of the tropical dews

Copyright, 1907, by F. A. Cook

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 239
volcanic lavas have been poured out in this re
gion, and large masses of granitic rocks were also
injected as igneous masses into the sedimentary
strata. This geologic province, embracing the Alaska
Range, is one where the earth's stresses have mani
fested themselves in many ways: by close fold
ing and fracturing of the strata, by intrusions of
igneous rocks, or by movements which have ele
vated or depressed extensive areas, at one time
exposing a land surface to erosion by bringing
it above sea-level, at another permitting the
deposition of sediments by depressing it below
sea-level. Like most areas of high relief, these moun
tains are the result of the interaction of erosion on
areas of uplift; that is, a province in which the
destructive agencies of erosion have not kept pace
with the constructive process of uplift.
The following sketch of the geology is based
largely on my own and Mr. L. M. Prindle's obser
vations in 1902 along a route of exploration which
traversed the range at the head of the Kichatna
and then followed the base of the mountains
north-easterly to the Tanana River. Free use has
also been made of the work of other members of
the Geological Survey in adjacent areas, and of
the notes furnished by Doctor Cook's party. Man
ifestly, only the barest outline can here be pre
sented, but a fuUer report is in preparation, which
will embody a more detaUed study of the field
notes.

240 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
In the first of the following sections the suc
cession of the various rock strata wiU be presented,
chiefly, for the sake of brevity, in tabular form.
This wUl be followed by a discussion of the present
attitude of the sedimentary beds, under the
heading "Stmcture." Then, after a brief con
sideration of the sequence of geologic events, this
sketch wiU close with a summary of the mineral
resources, under the caption " Economic Geology."
succession op rock strata
The first step in the discussion of the geology
of any given province must be the presenta
tion of the succession of rock strata. All sedi
mentary rocks have been derived from material
origiaally laid down in horizontal beds on the
floor of an ocean or other body of water. Such
deposits are of two general types: (i) deep sea
sediments, in which calcareous matter derived
from organisms dominates; (2) shaUow-water sed
iments which comprise clays, sands, and gravels
derived from the erosion of near-by land masses.
The accumulation of sediments, though a relatively
slow process, measured in geological time, goes
on very rapidly. Thus, during one of the minor
geologic subdivisions of the past, thousands of
feet of strata may accumulate, whUe the deposits
of a larger subdivision, such as the Paleozoic, may
attain a thickness to be measured in mUes.
If the sediments remain undisturbed the more
deeply buried beds become altered to hard rock

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 241
solely by the physical changes wrought through
the blanketing effect of the superimposed strata.
More often, however, this change to hard rock is
accelerated by crustal movements which disturb
the strata. Such movements are also often ac
companied by the upward- injection into the sedi
ments of molten rock masses from the abyssal
regions. Both the crustal disturbances and the
injection of igneous rocks produce more or less
chemical and physical changes in the sediments,
and this change is termed " metamorphism."
By the processes described above the sedi
ments laid down as calcareous matter, mud, sand,
or gravel become altered to hard rock such as
limestone, slate, sandstone, and conglomerate. If
these changes continue long enough, or the agen
cies are intense enough, limestones are changed
to marble, and slate and other rocks to schists,
thus becoming what are termed "metamorphic
rocks." It has been shown that igneous intrusives,
which consolidated at depth, may form an inte
gral part of a geologic succession. The same is also
true of volcanic rocks, comprising those of igneous
origin consolidated at the surface. Such volcan-
ics, including various types of lavas as weU as tuff
(volcanic ash), may subsequently become buried
under later strata and subject to the same pro
cesses of alteration as the sediments. If the
metamorphism is intense enough then lavas may
be changed to schists which are difficult to dis
tinguish from altered sediments. The same holds
16

242 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
true of the deep-seated igneous rocks, and thus a
granite may be altered to a schist.
The component rocks of the Alaska Range are
the products of the above-described processes of
sedimentation, intrusion, volcanism, and altera
tion which have been operating through a long
period of time, extending back at least as far as
the early Paleozoic. Some of these agencies have
continued to be active to the present, but the
youngest strata which have become indurated be
long to the early Tertiary.
It is not to be supposed, however, that the sedi
ments of the Alaska Range form an unbroken
succession of strata deposited in the same ocean.
As a matter of fact there were recurrent periods of
movement which altered and deformed the strata
deposited in any one epoch, many of which brought
the rock above sea-level as land masses and thus
inaugurated periods of erosion. These periods of
erosion, which furnished the sediments for the
sedimentary rocks of other areas, were in turn
foUowed by submergence and the recurrence of
sedimentation. Epochs of erosion, which afford
an important clue to the geologic history of a
province, are made evident in the rocks as now
exposed by the discordance of the beds of different
formations, and then are termed " unconformities."
The strata involved in the dynamic revolutions
which have given birth to the Alaska Range vary
in age from a belt of schists, which probably belong
to the lowest member of the Paleozoic, to rocks
which are known to be Tertiary. FossUs, which

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 243
yield the only definite clue to the age of strata,
have been found at only a few localities in this
province, but so far as the evidence goes it indicates
the presence of Ordovician, Devonian, Jurassic,
and Eocene beds. The study of the succession
of strata furthermore points to the conclusion that
among the unfossUifeious rock, whose age has
not been established, pre-Ordovician, Silurian,
and Triassic strata may be represented. The
general stratigraphic sequence is shown in the
following table, which undoubtedly wUl be modi
fied when more detailed studies have been made.
Generalised Table op Stratigraphic Sequence in
Alaska Range.

Quaternary

Tertiary (Eocene)(Fragmentary
plant remains)

Tertiary or
Cretaceous? (Fragmentary
plant remains)

Jurassic (Middle Jurassic
invertebrate fos-
sils) 

Locality
Throughout the pro
vince, but most ex
tensively developed
along the base of
range. Unconformity.
Lower part of Cant-
well River basin.
Tyonok and along
Skwentna River.
Unconformity ?
Upper part of Cant-
well and Kantishna
river basins.

Unconformity.Heart of Alaska
Range.

Silts, sands and
gravels (in part of
glacial origin).

White, friable sand
stone and conglom
erate, with lignite
seams.

Indurated red and
brown conglomerate,
sandstone, and shale,
with some coal seams.
Some volcanics of un
determined age, but
known to be post-
Jurassic.

Compact, feldspathic
sandstone, grits,
slates, and some lime
stones with some in-
trusive granites.

Note some slates occur infolded with this series which may be
long to an older formation.

244 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT

Generalised Table of Stratigraphic Sequence in Alaska
RAii QB— Contintted

Triassic?

Carboniferous?

Devonian (earryina middle-
Devonian fossils)

Devonian or
Silurian

Ordovician (carrying grapto-
lites)

Pre-Ordovician

Unconformity.
Skwentna Valley

Unconformity ?
Inland front of range.

Unconformity
Inland front of
Alaska Range.
Conformity?Inland front of
Alaska Range, and
probably also slates
of the Susitna Valley.

Kuskokwim Valley
Unconformity ?
Part of upper Cant-
well and Kantishma
river basins.

Intrusive, igneous
rocks, volcanics, with
sbme slates and black
limestones.

Heavy quartz con
glomerate intimately
associated with the
Devonian limestone.
It may be younger
or older.

Blue silicious lime
stone, with some
slate.

Cherty blue and black
limestone, black
shales, white, red and
green cherts, and
gray slates, with
some augen gneisses
which are probably
altered lavas.

Black carbonaceous
shales and limestones.

Mica-schists with
some greenstone and
granites intrusive.

STRUCTURE
The term structure, as here used, refers to the
attitude or lay of strata in space, and their
relative position, such as those which make up
the Alaska Range.
In presenting an analysis of bed rock stmcture,
it must be noted that during the past geological
ages there have been a number of periods of fold-

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 245
ing in this province, and that, therefore, the pres
ent attitudes of the terranes is the final result of
several crustal movements. Lack of detailed
studies makes it impossible to differentiate to any
considerable extent the structures of the various
periods of stress, but in sketching the sequence of
geologic events below these will be briefly touched
upon. It is proposed to consider here the present
attitude of the bed rock strata irrespective of the
period of deformation to which they may be
assigned. The "strike" or "strike line" of a formation is
the intersection of the bedding planes of the ter-
rane with a horizontal plane. In a region of com
plex folding the strike often varies from place
to place, but the dominant structures usually
follow a well-defined system, and generally where
there is strong relief these are parallel to the
major topographic features. Such is the case in
this province. In the southern part of the range
the strikes are usually about north and south,
while to the northward they gradually swing
eastward until at the eastern end of the range
they are nearly east and west. In other words the
major strike line, like the axis of the range, is
crescentic in form.
The "dip" of the strata is the inclination of
their bedding planes with the horizontal. While
in this discussion the absolute angle of dip is of
small importance, its direction is essential to a com
prehension of the structure of the strata — for the
direction of dip along a line at right angles to strike

246 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
indicates whether the fold is an arch or a trough,
the first being called a syncline, and the second
an anticline.
So far as known, the dominant structure of the
range is synclinal; that is, the terranes on both
sides of the mountains dip toward the axis. As
a necessary coroUary, the oldest infolded rocks
are found near the margins of the mountains, and
the youngest near the centre. This is the dominant
feature along one route of exploration across the
mountains, and appears also to hold true in
the section exposed between the Susitna and the
Tanana along the Cantwell River. This fold is,
however, not simple, but complex, as indicated
in the accompanying sketch which shows that
there are a number of smaller folds within the
larger syncline; in other words, it is what is
known as a "synclinorium." Could a section
be drawn on a larger scale and in more detail,
still greater complexities of structure would be
brought out. For this discussion, however, it
will suffice to state that the range has a general
synclinical structure.
When a rock stratum is folded beyond its
tensUe strength, fracturing takes place, usually
accompanied by more or less displacement. This
phenomenon, called "faulting," is of common
occurrence in closely folded rocks, and may intro
duce many complexities into the structure. There
are many ways in which rocks may be broken
and pushed over each other, depending chiefly on
the position of the plane along which dislocation

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 247
has taken place. "Overthrust faults" are those
in which an older stratum has been thrust over a
younger stratum. Such thrust faults are usually
exceedingly difficult to identify unless detaUed
studies have been made, and if not recognised
may lead to faulty conclusions as to the strati
graphic succession.

Gneiss j Tanana schists
Archeaii? * Prohablylovrer Paleozoic
i

gfiSI lower Paleozoic

4fi miles

GENERALISED SECTION THROUGH ALASKA RANGE ALONG
VALLEY OF CANTWELL RIVER

N>W I

i S S " ¦

Tordrillo series i Skwentna complex |
Sandatone.grayvmizks, j Igneous rocks.lavas;
! slate, and limestone ; tuffs, and intrusives^
I p ; Chiefly Jurassic t Pre -Jurassic j
im4 -S

JL.

4pii>9e9

GENERALISED SECTION ALASKA RANGE FROM SKWENTNA RIVER
TO KUSKOKWIM RIVER
While traversing the Alaska Range Mr. Prindle
and I noted many examples of minor faulting
where the dislocation varied from a few inches to

248 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
several hundred feet. We also obtained some
evidence of more extensive faulting with throws
which may amount to several thousand feet. In
the absence of detaUed studies these larger faults
must remain to a large extent hypothetical. Along
the inland front of the range many of the strata
are overturned to the west, and here there can be
no doubt that more or less overthrust faulting
has taken place. It is not improbable that the
whole of the west front of the range is determined
by a series of extensive overthrust faults.
Another phase of disturbance is that which
accompanied the intrusion of the large masses
of igneous rocks. These masses, called "stocks,''
composed of granite rocks, are usually of
lenticular outline and often many, miles in
length. Their injection necessarily disturbed the
adjacent sedimentary beds. While the meta
morphic effect, that is the chemical and physical
changes brought about by the introduction of
large masses of molten magma, appears to have
been very localised, yet the mechanical effect on
the adjacent strata was considerable. It also
appears that there has been more or less move
ment along waUs which bound these lenticular
stocks, since the magma solidified to their present
form; in other words, that there has been faulting
along these margins. Such movements probably
in part account for the fact that Mt. McKiiUey
and Mt. Foraker, both of which are granite masses,
stand so high above the crest line of the range.
To sum up briefly, the structure of the Alaska

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 249
Range is that of a synclinorium broken by many
minor and probably also by some larger faults.
Thrust faulting has taken place along the western
arm of the syncline, probably accompanied by
very considerable dislocation of strata, measured
in thousands of feet if not in miles. Some of the
granitic stocks in the range are in part bounded
by faults of considerable throw, which are parallel
to the larger axis of the intrusion.
The origin of such deformation is usually as
cribed to tangential movements of the earth's
crust which have resolved themselves into a thrust
from one general direction. This tangential press
ure probably came from the ocean basin and acted
against the continent. That is, there was prob
ably a land mass inland of the present range
which acted as a buttress and against which the
rocks were squeezed by a thrust from the Pacific.
It cannot be too often repeated that this disturb
ance was not confined to any one period of the
past, but recurred at different times and with
varying intensity. OUTLINE OF GEOLOGIC HISTORY
The most important clues to the age of geo
logic strata are the remnants of organic forms,
which are preserved in them as fossils. Using
these criteria alone, a sketch of the succession
of events by which the Alaska Range has been
formed must begin with the deposition of the
strata in which Ordovician fossils are known to

2 50 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
occur, for these are the oldest organic remains
yet found within the province. It is known,
however, that, even long before that distant epoch
in geologic time termed Ordovician, deposition of
thousands of feet of sediments and volcanic rocks,
followed by folding, intrus'on, and metamorphism,
took place. The metamorphic rocks of this older
epoch, exceedingly difficult to differentiate and
classify, even where they occur in the best known
parts of the earth's surface, become well-nigh im
possible of intelligible description and discussion
in a field like this, much of which has not been
explored. Whatever the detailed investigations of the
future may bring forth, it is certain that there
is a belt of highly altered rocks, both sedimentary
and igneous, stretching along the north-western
front of the Alaska Range, in part forming a series
of foothills, in part buried under later accumula
tions of Tertiary strata or recent gravel deposits.
These rocks, first laid down as sand, clay, and
mud, were later deeply buried under superimposed
strata, intruded by large masses of igneous rocks,
and then intensely squeezed. These agencies
brought about a complete change, amounting in
certain cases to an almost entire recrystallisation
of their constituent minerals. While there is no
direct evidence of the age of these rocks, from
what is known of similar formations in adjacent
areas it is probable that they were deposited
during Cambrian or pre-Cambrian times. In
any event the dynamic revolution which altered

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 251
them took place before the deposition of the rocks
carrying Ordovician fossils. In the foregoing
table these mica schists and intrusives are, there
fore, indicated as of pre-Ordovician age.
Though the contact relations of these crystalline
rocks and the Ordovician terranes has not been
established by field observations, they are with
out doubt those of unconformity. That is,
the older crystalline rocks were folded and up
lifted above the sea floor, exposing them to
erosion, before the deposition of the Ordovician
terranes. Fine sediments, such as slates and limestones,
characterise the Ordovician deposits throughout
Alaska so far as recognised. This indicates
that they were laid down as deep sea sediments,
and justifies the assumption that the northern
and western half of Alaska was beneath the
sea during Ordovician times. In the province
here discussed the only evidence of life during
this period are the delicate and obscure organ
isms called graptolites.
No evidence has been found of any interruptions
to the deep sea conditions, during the succeeding
epoch, termed Silurian and Devonian, though for a
time the character of the sediments was different,
inasmuch as cherty or argillaceous deposits domi
nated over the limestones. In middle Devonian
times calcareous sediments again dominated, and
the sea of this period was known to teem with
organic life. These organisms, now preserved as
fossils, are in part moUusks of various descriptions,

252 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
in part corals, the latter indicating a gradual
shoaling of the waters.
The succession after middle Devonian times
again becomes obscure. A heavy quartz conglom
erate, believed to be of Carboniferous age, is abun
dant along the western front of the range. The
deposition of this probably foUowed a period of
uplift deformation followed by erosion; that is,
it marks an unconformity. If these facts are
correct there was probably a land-mass here during
late Devonian or early Carboniferous times which
contributed coarse sediments. As shown, however,
in the table of sequence, this conglomerate may
be older than the fossUiferous Devonian limestone ;
but, in any event, it indicates such an abrupt
change in sedimentation as to make it probable
that there was a marked change of physical
conditions. In the Yentna basin, on the eastern side of the
range, we crossed a broad belt of volcanic rocks,
with which were associated some sediments,
which are probably of Triassic age. This group
of rocks indicates an outbtirst of a large number
of volcanoes whose outpourings, including both
lava and tuffs, probably in part submarine, con
tinued untU many thousand feet of material was
pUed up. Igneous activity finaUy spent itself,
but it left a land mass above water. Erosion then
began and probably continued long enough to bring
about the leveUing of the more rugged features of
the topography. In early Jurassic times erosion
was interrupted by a submergence, and conse-

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 253
quent invasion of the sea, which inaugurated an
epoch of sedimentation. It appears from the
character of the sediments, which are chiefly
slates, sandstones, and conglomerates, that the
sea was shallow, and that there was a near-by
land mass which furnished the material laid down
in the strata. The thickness of these strata
amounts to many thousand feet, and the fossil
remains show that in part these rocks were laid
down during Jurassic times.
The close of this period of deposition was marked
by one of the recurrent epochs of deformation.
Gravels, sands, and clays became conglomerates,
sandstones, and slates, which in turn were closely
folded and faulted. During this period of earth
movements large masses of igneous rocks were
, injected in the deep-seated portions of the earth's
crust. This intrusion was a part of one of the
greatest dynamic evolutions of the continent, for
it was then that the great intrusion of granite
which is now exposed in the Sierra Nevada and in
the Coast Range of British Columbia and Alaska
took place. It also appears that the ore-bearing
mineral veins of south-eastern Alaska and prob
ably of other regions were injected during or
immediately following this intrusion.
The sedimentary terranes in the Alaska Range
assigned to this epoch are the youngest which
suffered any considerable metamorphism, the
latter strata probably never having been so deeply
buried, or so closely folded. It seems probable
that at the close of this epoch there was a con-

2 54 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
siderable part of what is now Alaska above water,
and that much of this part of the continent had
essentially its present shore line. The Aleutian
chain had probably not been uplifted, however,
and the sea probably washed both slopes of the
Alaska Range, whUe a great gulf of the ocean
occupied the lower parts of the Kuskokwim and
Yukon basins.
The next younger group of sediments com
prises sandstones and shales, with some conglome
rates, occurring along the north-west flank of the
mountains. These sediments indicate shallow-
water conditions, as do also some lignitic coal
seams associated with them. Some volcanic
rocks are included in these sediments. These
sediments were folded and elevated above the sea
probably in early Tertiary times, and then in a
large part removed by erosion. In any event,
while these sediments have a thickness of at
least two thousand feet, they now occupy only a
small area in the northern part of the field. This
group of rocks is the youngest which has been
considerably folded. Though the beds have not
been highly altered, yet they stand at high angles,
and their structure is far more complex than a later
group of rocks to be described. It appears, then,
that the last extensive period of deformation took
place just after these sediments were laid down,
and that all subsequent movements were of the
character of broad uplifts and depressions, which
as a rule, left no record in the individual strata.
It is of great importance to determine the age of

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 255
this last great period of crustal disturbances, but
the evidence is scant. It appears probable from
analogues in adjacent areas that it falls in the
early Tertiary.
The last wide-spread epoch of deposition is
represented by some loose conglomerates, friable
sandstones, and shales, together with some lig
nite beds, which occur in widely separated areas
throughout the province. The nature of these
sediments indicates their deposition in river val
leys and lakes or possibly, in part, in estuaries. The
epoch of deposition which they mark was separated
from previous epochs by a long period of erosion
during which the rugged topography inherited
from the preceding cycle was to a large extent
removed and land reduced to a lowland. Across
the lowland rivers meandered, and probably it is
their deposits which are preserved in the sedi
ments described above.
In middle Tertiary times a general uplift took
place, which inaugurated the present cycle of
erosion, though it has probably been interrupted
by some minor depressions. This uplift, though
intermittent, finally left the range at approxi
mately its present altitude. It should be remem
bered, however, that erosion has considerably
reduced the relief. This movement was differ
ential and the highest peaks, such as Mt. McKinley
and Mt. Foraker, were probably uplifted far
above adjacent parts of the range. Their altitude
is, however also due to the fact that these
peaks are made up of hard granite which has

2 56 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
resisted the agencies of erosion more than the as
sociated sediments.
Though a minor incident in the geologic history,
the glaciation which foUowed this uplift has played
an important part in carving out the present topo
graphic forms. During the glacial epoch the Alas
ka Range, as weU as the other highland masses of
this part of the continent, became the loci of ac
cumulations of ice and snow which forced them
selves out into the lowlands as huge ice-sheets, low
ering the valley floors over which they passed. On
the south the ice-sheet fiUed Cook Inlet and dis
charged into the Pacific, while on the north it spread
out across the Tanana Valley and into the Kuskok
wim basin. These glaciers not orUy removed the
loose material over which they swept, but in many
instances ground deep channels in the underly
ing rock floor. Finally, for reasons not well un
derstood, the ice began to retreat, and as it re
trograded the accompanying floods carried vast
amounts of debris, and deposited it as great sheets
along the mountain fronts and in the lowlands.
The fast disappearing remnants of these greater
ice-sheets are stiU preserved in the present glaciers
of the Alaska Range. As the amount of debris
furnished by the ice decreased, the streams began
cutting channels in these gravel sheets, an action
which was accelerated by minor uplifts of the
land. The retreat of the ice and the dissection of the
gravel deposits left the topography in essentiaUy
its present form.

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 257
ECONOMIC GEOLOGY
It will not be possible to discuss in any detail
the mineral resources of the province, but a few
general notes may be not without interest.
Within the Alaska Range proper no economi
cally valuable minerals have yet been discovered,
nor does the outlook for such discovery appear
very hopeful. Placer gold has been found in
workable deposits in the Yentna Basin within the
foothills along the southern margins of the moun
tains, and some auriferous gravels, but not of
known economic importance, are also known to
occur along some of the other westerly tributaries
of the Susitna. Gold placers have also been worked
in a small way in the Kantishna. These placers
lie in the so-called Kantishna and Bonnifield
districts. The auriferous gravels that have been
worked both south and north of the mountains
are shallow deposits and the gold is found
chiefly on bed rock. In the Yentna district
the bed rock is said to be chiefly slate, probably
of Paleozoic age, while in the Kantishna dis
trict the country rock is chiefly mica schists (pre-
Ordovician) similar to that with which the gold
is associated in the Fairbanks district. Besides
these shallow auriferous deposits, some of the
heavier gravel beds are known to carry a little
gold, but whether it is in sufficient quantities to
yield returns by any of the improved mining
methods must be left to the future to determine.
This placer gold was derived from the quartz

rfS TO THE TOP OF THE COXTIXEXT
veins or mineralised zones in the country rock with
which it is associated. The presence of workable
placers does net necessarUy indicate that the bed
rock sotirce of the gold wiU be found to carry suni-
cient "^'alues to yield returns on exploitation. For
the richness of the placers may simply be the re-
svUt of long-continued process of sorting bj^agencies
of weathering and erosion, which have brought
about the concentration in the gravels of the
hea\-ier minerals separated from the bed rock.
One feature of the geology of the Alaska Range
is favourable to the occurrence of mineral deposits,
and that is the presence of the granite intrusives
already described as ha%"ing been injected in
Jurassic times, for it is known that in other parts
of Alaska ore bodies are found in close association
with these granite stocks. The foUowing quota
tion^ from a recent report bears on this
question :
"It is safe, therefore, to assert that the intru
sion of the Me5ozoic granite in manv parts of
Alaska was accompanied or foUowed bv the for
mation of auriferous veins. It is important, there
fore, to draw attention to the distribution of this
rock. As shown by 'Sir. Wright, it not only forms
the major portion of the Coast Range, but also
finds a wide distribution in isolated stocks among
the islands to the west. The main granite mass
passes into Canadian territory in the ChUkat basin
and has been traced northward to Kluane Lake,
' Brooks, Alfred H., and others. Progress Report. Investigation
of Alaskan Mineral Resources. Bull U.S. Grol Survey. No. 314,
1907, p. 35.

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 259
where, too, evidence of mineralisation is found.
It occurs again in the form of dikes and stocks
along the northern margin of the Copper River
valleys and has been recognised at a number of
places in the Alaska Range to the south-west.''
The above theoretical consideration would seem
to warrant a continuation of prospecting along
the margins of these granite masses, in spite of the
fact that the associated rock so far as examined
appears to be barren of any ores.
Coal is the only other mineral deposit yet found
in this province. Lignite seams are not uncommon
associates of the younger sediments of the region,
but most of these have only a very remote com
mercial importance. The lignites of the upper
Cantwell River are probably the only ones which
may be exploited in the immediate future and
that only because they lie within thirty to fifty
miles of the town of Fairbanks, which affords a
good market for fuel. The lignites of the south
ern side of the range can probably not be mined at
a profit, even if rendered accessible by railway,
because they would come into competition with
the high-grade coals of the Matanuska field, which
lies nearer the coast.

APPENDIX B.
Biological Data and Specimens Collected by
Charles Sheldon
AT about the same time that the south-eastern
slopes were being explored by us with the
aid of our horses, Mr. Charles Sheldon pushed south
ward from the Tanana River along the Kantishna
to the northern slopes of Mt. McKinley, his mission
being mainly to study mountain sheep. He had but
one assistant and their supplies were transported
by pack horses. After leaving Hanna Glacier a
course was set along the same route taken by our
party in September, 1903. The grassy slopes above
timber at an altitude of from three thousand to
four thousand feet offered good travelling. Pass
ing Muldrow Glacier he followed Lecointe River
into Dunn Basin where mountain sheep in great
numbers were found. Mr. Sheldon made a valu
able collection of mammals which he presented
to the Biological Survey. Descriptions following
are by WUfred H. Osgood.— F. A. Cook.]
stones caribou
Ra'ngifer Stonei Allen
On his way in to the base of Mt. McKinley
about the middle of July, Mr. Sheldon saw many
261

262 TO THE TOP OF THE COXTIXEXT
caribou, but it was then too earh* to secure speci
mens with perfect antlers, so he planned to get
them on his way out. but on the return trip not an
adult male was seen. However, he secured in
Tanana a pair of locked antlers which had been
found near the head of the Cosna River. These
seem referable to R. Stonei. One of them has a
considerable part of the skuU attached, including
nearly perfect toothrows. The length of the
toothrow is 104 mm. Measurements of the antlers
are, respectively, as foUows:
Length m^ain beam (along side) 1090, 1265 :
greatest spread between palmations 710, 570;
greatest spread between bez tin^ 645 . 665 ; circtim-
ference of beam between brow and bez tines 152,
136; number of points in palmations 10 — 8, 3 — 3 ;
numiber of pc>ints in bez tines 7 — 8, 4 — 3 : number
of p-oints in brow tines 7 — 4, 7 — i ; total number
of points -14, 21. ALASKA MOOSE
Alee Americanus Gigas MiUer
A few moose and numerous signs were seen in
the vicinity of the base of Mt. McKiolev and
near the mouth of the Toklat, but no specimens
were preserved. They are abundant throughout
the timbered part of the region, to which, how
ever, they are not confined, as thej- frequently
traverse open country-.
BALL SHEEP. WHITE SHEEP
Ozis Dam Xelson
Seven specimens, sis adult males and one (skuU)

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 263
adult female, taken August 10-30. Indefinite
reports have been current to some extent to the
effect that the sheep of Mt. McKinley and the
Alaska Range were larger or smaller or otherwise
different from the other Alaskan sheep. Such
reports seem to be groundless, for the specimens
are identical with those from the Kenai Peninsula,
referable to Ovis Dalli. The skins are practically
pure white, but careful search reveals a very few
dusky hairs here and there on the back and a very
small and mostly concealed proportion of them on
the taU. The pelage is entirely new and rather
full and long but shows considerable brown earth
stain. The skulls and horns do not appear to differ
in any important respect from those of typical Ovis
Dalli. The region seems to be a great stronghold
of the white sheep, but although hundreds of ewes
and lambs were seen almost daUy, rams were found
only in very small numbers after long and deter-
miaed hunting. red SQUIRREL
Sciurus Hudsotficus Erxleben
Common in all the timber.
GROUND SQUIRREL
Citellus Plesius Ablusus Osgood
Eight specimens, mostly adults, from the base
of the Muldrow Glacier and the head of the Toklat
River. These are typical examples of ablusus,
and thus carry its range considerably to the
north-east, the nearest point from which it was
previously known being the head of Lake Clark.

2 64 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
HOARY MARMOT
Marmota Caligata (Eschscholtz)
One specimen, a very fine old female, killed on
the Peters Glacier, one of the few good adults of
this species now in collections from the interior
of Alaska. BEAVER
Castor Canadensis KuW
Of rather rare occurrence, in interior ponds only.
No specimens. DAWSON RED-BACKED MOUSE
Evotomys Dawsoni Merriam
Two specimens, both from the wooded region
at the mouth of the Toklat.
alpine vole
Microius Miurus Oreas Subsp. nov.
Type, from head of Toklat River, Alaska Range,
Alaska. No. 148,596 U. S. National Museum,
Biological Survey collection. 6 ad. August 8,
1906. C. Sheldon. Original No. 47.
Characters. — SimUar to M. miurus, but tone of
colour more ochraceous (not so yellowish) through
out; taU slightly shorter and chiefly ochraceous,
slightly or not at all darker above than below.
Colour. — ^Type, in wom pelage: Upperparts and
sides pale ochraceous buff or clay colour somewhat
toned down on back by a slight mixture of dusky
and exposure of the plumbeous bases of the hairs ;
underparts uniform pale ochraceous buff; feet

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 265
creamy buff; taU pale ochraceous buff with very
faint traces of dusky on upper side.
Skull. — Very similar to that of M. miurus but
somewhat narrower; braincase more elongate;
zygomata less flaring anteriorly.
Measurements. — ^Type and one topotype, respec
tively: Total length, 125, 120; taU vertebrae, 20,
19; hind foot (dry), 19.2, 19. Skull of type: Basal
length, 26.7; basilar length, 23.9; mastoid width,
1 1. 4; interorbital constriction, 3.4; nasals, 7.4;
maxillary toothrow, 6.
Remarks. — Seven specimens of this vole were
secured in the high mountain meadows near the
head of the Toklat River. Two of these are adult
males and the remainder immature, but the entire
series is characterised by a richer and more reddish
colouration than that of typical miurus, of which
specimens in exactly comparable pelage are avaU
able. ^ The tail is even shorter than in miurus
and with little or no dark colour on the upper side.
The slight cranial characters noted above may not
prove constant. The form doubtless occurs
throughout the higher parts of the Alaska Range
and this is probably the extent of its distribution,
for collecting in the mountains near the Yukon
•River and in the northern Rockies has faUed to
reveal it or any near relative.
Since Mr. Sheldon's trapping was chiefly con-
flned to the region above timber line, this was the
' The Biological Survey series of M. miurus being quite small,
specimens from the American Museum of Natural History, kindly
loaned by Dr. J. A. Allen, have also been used for comparison.

2 66 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
only species of Microtus taken. Some or all of the
following probably occur at somewhat lower
altitudes in the region: M. operarius, M. drum-
mondi, M. mordax, and M. xanthognathus.
MUSKRAT
Fiber Spatulatus Osgood
Common about ponds in the less elevated parts
of the region. PORCUPINE
Erethizon E-pixanthu,s Myops Merriam
Occurs throughout the timbered part of the
region. No specimens. COLLARED PIKA
Ochotona Collaris Nelson
Five specimens, three from near the Peters
Glacier, taken July 28th, and two from the base
of the Muldrow Glacier, taken August 2d. All
are typical of this'^ species, which doubtless occurs
in suitable places on all the high mountains of the
interior of Alaska. Mr. Sheldon reports that
pikas were abundant in the vicinity of his camps.
DALL VARYING HARE
Lepus Americanus Dalli Merriam
Hares were seen in abundance well down in the
timber but no specimens were secured.
CANADA LYNX
Lynx Canadensis (Kerr)
Common where rabbits are to be found. One
was killed on the Tanana River but was not pre
served as a specimen.

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 267

NORTHERN WOLF
Canis Albus (Sabine)

Wolves are abundant, chiefly above timber,
where many tracks were found.
FOX
Vulpes Fulvus Subsp.
Very abundant, especially above timber. Sev
eral were seen, including black or nearly black
individuals. No specimens.
GRIZZLY BEAR
Ursus Horribilis Phaeonyx Merriam
Six grizzlies were secured, three adult females
and three cubs, the latter being the offspring of one
mother. They show much variation in colour,
especially the cubs, one of which is very pale,
another very dark, and the third almost exactly
intermediate. All were killed high up on the
mountain slopes far above timber, to which region
they seem largely confined. The name "Glacier
Bear" is locally applied to light coloured examples
of this grizzly. BLACK BEAR
Ursus Americanus Pallas
A black bear was seen on the Kantishna River
and many tracks were noted in various parts
of the timbered region, where the animals are
evidently very abundant. OTTER
Lutra Canadensis (Schreber)
Otters occur in limited numbers. No specimens.

268 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
MINK
Lutreola "Vison subsp.
Common. Several were seen along the Kan
tishna and Tanana rivers and numerous skins
were seen in the possession of trappers on the
Toklat. MARTEN
Miistela Americana Actuosa Osgood
Common throughout the timbered part of the
region. Trappers' skins seen on the Toklat were
noted as being light coloured and therefore prob
ably represent the subspecies actuosa.
WOLVERINE
Gulo Luscus (Liimaeus)
Common throughout the region, except in the
timberless belt, and doubtless also to be found
there. Skins were seen among the trappers on
the Toklat.
SHREW
Sor ex sp.
No Specimens of shrews were secured, but that
they occur is attested by the fact that the remains
of one were found in the stomach of a bear. Those
of probable occurrence areSoreic personatus arcticus,
S. obscurus, S. tundrensis, and 5. eximius.

APPENDIX C
The Cook Inlet Aborigines
by charles sheldon
THE aborigines living along the shores of
Cook Inlet and the Susitna River have in
their veins much Russian blood. Originally these
were the Kodiaks, Kenites, Knicks, and Susitnas.
These tribes were usually friendly to each other
and united to defend themselves against the
Copper River Indians and the Eskimos. In lan
guage, in folk-lore, and in their implements there is
considerable similarity, but a distinct tribal organ
isation has been maintained with a chief, a second
chief, and other assistants. The combined popu
lation of all the existing villages is about three
hundred, but when the Russians first came to
the Inlet they found on the bluff about the present
site of Tyonok an estimated gathering of twenty
thousand Indians.
Though these Indians have been close to big
game areas, where bear, moose, mountain sheep,
and caribou were abundant they never have been
great hunters, mostly because fish in abundance
have been too easily gotten. By judicious use of
nets they have been able to obtain in a few weeks
enough salmon to supply their wants for a year.
269

2 70 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
The fish is dried and smoked and packed in caches
elevated on spikes where the larder is out of
reach of the dogs and wolves and bears. Thus
subsisting on fish their primitive life was easy, but
with the advent of the Caucasian their troubles
increased rapidly. A market was found for their
skins, an appetite was created for bread, sugar,
tobacco, and other things. A fashion was set for
clothes and the hunter was forced to work over
time to supply the new wants.
It is to-day a very difficult task to separate
the different tribes whose hybrid descendants have
intermingled to form the sad groups that remain
as Cook Inlet aborigines. The intermarriages
have always been to near relatives; first cousins
are commonly married. In the old days there
was a certain amount of wife stealing. One tribe
would descend on another, destroying the men
and capturing the women and children; thus there
was much admixture of blood. But since the
time of the Russians this has not been permitted.
Russians, however, have freely married Indian wo
men, and have gone away later and left half-breed
families. Miners and traders have done likewise.
Some have remained, others, tired of their sur
roundings, went away. In either case the effect
has been to distribute Caucasian blood among
aborigines that at least have a close resemblance
to the Mongolian stem. The result of aU this
has been to scatter various types of men in Alaska.
There are the Eskimo Indians, the Russian Indians,

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 271
the Mongolian Indians, and the various inde
scribable shades of colour and degrees of blood
admixture. The necessity to make alliance to protect them
selves from the Eskimos and the Copper River
Indians or the whites has long since passed. The
rapid extermination of these primitive people is
not to be ascribed so much to alcohol, bad habits,
and civilised sins as is generally supposed, but to
virulent epidemics of imported disease.
The death-knell of these Indians, as of most of
the aborigines of the world thus far, has been the
introduction of new disease germs to which the
vigorous savage was an easy victim because his
red blood was not charged by the protective serum
which ages of misfortune have left us as a heritage.
The most fatal element has been the rapid
introduction of diseases of childhood. For cent
uries we have unconsciously developed a kind
of mUd immunity to measles, scarlet fever,
whooping cough, and other children's diseases
which has enabled us to withstand epidemics.
But these diseases were new to the Indian. Old
and young are carried away so rapidly that few
tribes ever survive a prolonged wave of this type
of maladies, which to us would be of little
consequence. The Susitna Indians place the origin of man
near Mt. McKinley, and the raven as the creator.
At a point along Indian Creek Pass from which
the Susitna and Chulitna vaUeys can be seen,

2 72 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
and the great slopes of Bolshoy pierce the clouds,
the big peak marks the beginning of the world ;
here man first began his existence, and from here
he spread to the utmost reaches of the earth;
the Kenites, the Alouts, the Copper River tribe,
the Kodiaks, and others are but offshoots of the
original parent stem made by the raven near Mt.
McKinley. The Indian seldom teUs this in these
days, but a miner asked one about a lot of sus-
spicious bones and bits of skin which he saw at
Indian Creek and he was promptly told that here
even to this day the raven made Indians, and
that these bones were the leavings. The raven
selected bones from other animals, shaped them
for the type of man he wished to make, then put
on the soft part and the skin last. An Indian
will not visit this workshop of the raven.
The children are put through a very severe
course of traiiung to fit them for the duties of
later life. At the age of six the boy is turned
over to one of his uncles for his first schooling.
Little sleep or food is allowed the child, and he is
kept busy at hard work. Cold water is thrown
over the boy to harden his muscles, beginning at
his feet and graduaUy increasing the splashing to ,
his head by regular stages with advancing years.
At about ten years he is thrown into cold deep
water and forced to leam how to swim. He sleeps
on the floor with Uttle or no covering, is made to
go out in winter without clothing to cut wood,
and in many ways the boy is forced to endure

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 273
hardships with a view of an ultimate development
of physical strength and powers of endurance.
Girls are compeUed to undergo a less severe train
ing to fit them to domestic duties, but they are
kept under close watch. After twelve years they
are not allowed to leave their homes alone.
In the qualifications for marriage, the young
man must have proven his ability to hunt and
fish. He must also have shown a faculty to de
vise implements of the chase. Men usuaUy marry
when about twenty years old and as many times
thereafter as they can steal women from neigh
bouring tribes, the supplementary wives becoming
slaves. The girls were marriageable at sixteen
years. There was no visible courtship. The
young man asked the father of his prospective
bride. When his consent was given a big as
semblage of the relatives and friends of both sides
was called. At the meeting two men were selected
to give away the couple, and to deliver orations
on the advantages and disadvantages of the coming
union to the tribe and to the respective families.
Then followed much other talk bearing on the
subject introduced by the speakers. The boy
was presented first to the bride and then the girl
to hitn. They met on a caribou skin and in the
presence of all were acknowledged as man and
wife. Then foUowed a great feast with hilarity,
singing, and dancing. Some presents were made
to the parents of the girl and the new couple
assumed the responsibUity of helping their parents

2 74 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
on both sides in case of need, but the wife's family
fared best.
The older chiefs have always had special priv
ileges and like many old men they have a special
fondness for young girls. Thus it is not an un
common sight to see a very old man with a very
young wife. The preliminary arrangements for
these young wives take on the form of barter. An
old chief sees a girl he admires and while his old
spouse is stiU living and with her knowledge
and consent he bargains for the girl as his future
wife. The girl may be a mere child or she may
be near marriageable age. For consideration the
chief usuaUy agrees to protect or help in some
way the parents. This may be material assistance,
food or implements, or it may be spiritual help
to assure good luck on the hunt, to dispel an evil
spirit, or it may be protection against an enemy.
The girl in barter spends her time between the two
houses, and gets her education accordingly. The
saddest type of this barter was that of an old
blind chief; he had been blind for a long time,
and he was anxious for a partner with a similar
distress. He secured a young girl, pierced her
eyes when very young, and then trained her to
become his helpmeet.
For shelter skin tents have always been in use.
During the stone age a house of wood and sod
similar to the Eskimo igloo was in use, but since
the time of the Russians and iron implements a
big log hut, or barabra, has been generaUy adopted.

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 275
The barabras now at Kroto and other places are
about eighteen feet square, constructed of logs, with
gable roof in which a big slit is left in the centre for
smoke to escape, and long fireplaces on the floor to
one side. Originally there were raised floors like
that of the Eskimo hut with people sleeping above
and below, on skins or brush. Several families
lived in one of these barabras and they were in for
mer times made much larger. An indispensable an
nex was the banyel, or bath house; a place of about
the same shape as the barabra, with a window of
bear intestine in one corner. There was a pile
of round stones, preferably not too large. These
were heated on burning logs in the barabra and
piled up. Men, women, and children would go
into the banyel, some one would splash water with
bunches of brush upon the hot stones, and with a
hiss from the stones and a yell from the people
the room would be filled with steam. When
thoroughly warmed and heated, some one would
take the bunches of brush and vigorously strike
his neighbour; thus a strong perspiration was
produced which was their remedy for all diseases.
The original implements of the chase and the
knowledge of them have passed awa}^ with the old
aborigines. The same is true of most of the arts
of life. For transportation the dog sled and the
bark or skin canoe are to-day in use, but the bow
and arrow, the lance, and the old fishing nets and
baskets are seldom used.
Girls had their faces ornamented with tattoo

2 76 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
marks when they were about ten years old. The
ink was made from rotten birch wood. There
after the girls were carefully guarded by their
mothers, never being aUowed away from home
alone. A non- vir tuous girl was deprived of her
home and became an outcast.
Among the men a line of distinction was painted
on the face. The colour was red and black. The
red paint was made of burnt rock and the black
of burnt clay.

(ReJ

/fe^

Agood

Bad man.

Good wise man.

A rich man.

trustworthy

Fearless,

A successful

man.

Daring.

hunter.

The Cook IiUet people in the pre-Russian times
burned their dead. Logs were cut in appropriate
sizes and pUed in tiers in such a way that a draft
ran upwards directing the fire. The body was
placed on the logs face upwards or in a sitting
position. Friends took turns in piercing the
abdomen with sharp sticks to allow the spirits to
escape, and a good deal of attention was required
to keep the fire hot, for the freedom and rapidity
with which a body burned was supposed to be
an indication of the favour in which the departed
was rated by their supreme spirit, Nah-cri-tah-ny.
The ashes were gathered, placed in a box, and
stored in a comer of the provision shack. For one

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 277
year the near relatives mourned by chanting
doleful songs.
In the case of the death of a beloved wife, the
husband would cut slits in his skin along the front
of his arm and draw through the wound eagle's
feathers, moving the feathers occasionally, and
thus keeping the wound open for one year.
One year after a man's death the nearest rela
tives called a meeting of all of those known to have
had dealings with the deceased during life, and
to them in the presence of a large gathering, all
of the personal belongings were distributed as
presents, as well as much new material donated
by relatives. After this the name of the departed
was not mentioned and he was forgotten.
In the spirit world they place one supreme
being named Nah-cri-tah-ny, who is regarded as
the maker and creator of all things. There are
many lesser spirits under the direction of the great
spirit. Among these is the god of the lakes, and
the god of the mountains. The lake god assumes
the form of a big fish and he is supposed to be
destructive, inflicting punishment upon evU-doers
and destroying those who disturb him in his
haunts. The mountain god is regarded as a pro
tector, helping the Indian in his troubles and
guiding him to good hunting and fishing grounds.
If an Indian ventures into the high mountains
and appeals to the spirit, he is supposed to be
received cordially and is given direct advice for
his future conduct.

APPENDIX D
Railway Routes in Alaska*
by alfred h. brooks **
TRANSPORTATION is the first essential
element to the industrial advancement of
a new land. Therefore, though the subject of
raUway location may be of no great academic
interest, there lies a justification for its discussion
in the fact that it is of such vital importance to
those who are developing the resources of Alaska.
Moreover, the matter is timely because of its rela
tion to a broad question of public policy, for many
efforts have been made in recent years to obtain
financial support from the federal government for
Alaskan raUway projects.
Popular interest in this subject appears to be
only excelled by popular ignorance of it — an ig
norance, too, which is constantly being augmented
by misstatements in current literature. Some
years ago the assertion was made in a magazine
article that some parts of Alaska were being rapidly
gridironed by raUways. To those famUiar with
* Reprinted by special permission. Copyright, 1907, by The National Geo
graphic Magazine.
•* Geologist in charge of Alaskan Division, U. S. Geological Survey.
279

2 8o TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
the primitive condition of transportation main
taining throughout the territory, such a state
ment can appear little short of ridiculous. This
misleading article has, however, evidently been
regarded as authoritative, for it has found place
in a popular encyclopaedia.
Though the aggregate mileage of raUways in
Alaska is less than 200, but little more than that
of Porto Rico, this is divided among eight different
lines. Of these, four are along the Pacific sea
board, three on the Seward PeninstUa, and one in
the Tanana Valley. All of these raUways have
been buUt to supplement water transportation.
(See map, page 281.)
RAILWAY LOCATION
In the discussion to follow of the principles
governing raUway location, I will confine myself
entirely to commercial lines, for obviously raUways
built for mUitary or scenic purposes wUl follow
routes determined by entirely different conditions.
The controlling factors of raUway location faU
into two important groups, here termed (i) com
mercial and (2) geographic, whUe in regions lying
close to international boundaries a third, namely,
political, becomes operative. Each of the first
two groups resolves itself into several subordinate
factors, one or more of which may dominate in any
given province, to the practical exclusion of all
the others. The foUowing table is an attempt to

Copyright, 1907, by the National Geographic Magazine Compiled by Alfred H. Brooks
MAP OF ALASKA, SHOWING NAVIGABLE WATERS AND RAILROADS

282 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
present a terse analysis of the problem of raUway
location:
I. Commercial control:
I. Developed resources (statisticsof production and commerce).
2. Undeveloped resources.
Mineral (economic geology).
Agrictdtural (climate, soUs, and botany).
Timber (distribution, quality, and quantity).
3. Popvdation.
4. Competitive or supplementary lines of transportation
(navigable waters and existing railwajrs).
II. Geographic control:
I, Position (terminals and connecting lines of transportation).
2. Distances (comparison of distances of different routes),
3. Relief (mountain ranges, passes, and valleys, as affecting
gradients).
4. Watercourses (depths and widths of rivers, as affecting
construction of bridges or ferries),
5, Climate (precipitation, etc,, as affecting cost of construction,
operation, and maintenance).
III. Political control:
X. PoUtical boundaries.
Before analysing this table I wUl forestall
possible criticism by stating that certain elements
which must of necessity have an important in
fluence with a locating engineer are here entirely
omitted because they do not appear to be germane
to the subject. In this I refer more specially to
the financial backing to any given project. Ob
viously the choice of a raUway route may have to
be governed by the low cost of first construction
rather than by consideration of the ultimate econ
omy in construction, operation, and maintenance.
I believe, however, that the question of financing
a raUway project should find no place in a sci-

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 283
entific discussion of raUway location. The avail
able sources of material for construction have also
not been included in this analysis, for this is,
after all, a local problem and wUl not affect the
general choice of routes.
What I have termed commercial control is sim
ply another name for tonnage, the great dominat
ing element in raUway location. This, in turn, is
dependent in a large measure on resources, de
veloped or undeveloped. In settled regions the
distribution of population may wield a decided
influence, but population again is usually an
evidence of developed resources. The amount
of tonnage will also be affected by competitive
and supplementary lines of transportation.
Five subdivisions are recognised under geo
graphic control. The first is position, which
pertains chiefly to location and character of ter
minals and their relation to other transportation
systems. Under the second, distances, the dif
ferent routes are compared in length. Under re
lief is included the influence of topography, while
larger water-courses must be considered because
they necessitate bridges or ferries. The influence
of climate on cost of construction, operation, and
maintenance is obvious. Heavy snowfalls, river
floods, and the closing of waterways by winter
ice are elements that deserve consideration. Po
litical control obviously refers to international
boundaries alone.
I have intentionally emphasised the commercial

2 84 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
control of railway routes, for it is evident that
without adequate tonnage railways cannot be
built economicaUy. On the other hand, given
the resources to warrant the cost of construc
tion and operation, and the modem engineer wiU
buUd a raUway almost anywhere. In this I do
not intend to indorse the policy, too often followed,
of raUway location which is not preceded by
comprehensive geographic investigation. Many
railways have been based on routes chosen by
the old adage: "The Indian followed the buffalo,
the white man the Indian, and the locomotive
the white man." As a consequence, nearly every
transcontinental line has made or is contemplating
changes of routes involving the expenditure of
millions of dollars which might have been avoided
by proper exploration and survey. The lesson has
not yet been leamed, however, for recently a cor
poration proposing to build a raUway in Alaska,
after spending several hundred thousand dollars
in construction, abandoned the chosen route for
another. In this case a tenth part of the money
spent on what proved to be worthless construction
would have more than paid for the necessary ex
plorations and surveys.
It follows from the above that, while the demand
for transportation between certain localities may
be such that a raUway will be buUt in spite of
the physical obstacles, yet economic location de
mands the most careful adjustment to the topo
graphy.

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 285
COST OF CONSTRUCTION
Though it is not the purpose of this paper to
discuss the more purely engineering aspect of my
subject, yet it may be well to devote a few words
to the question of the cost of construction be
cause of the many current misconceptions regard
ing it. It will be pointed out below that the
watersheds to be crossed by Alaskan raUways vary
from about 2,000 to 3,400 feet, which are low
compared with the altitudes of 8,000 to 11,000
feet attained by many railways in the Western
States. It will also be shown that the routes of ap
proach to the divides have as a rule low gradients,
and that much of the region to be traversed by
raUways is one of only moderate relief. On the
other hand, most of the proposed routes will de
mand bridging of many streams and rivers. This
feature wUl possibly be the most difficult for the
engineer to contend with, because of (i) the winter
ice and (2) the spring floods. (See profiles, p. 286.)
The chief factor which wUl much enhance the
expenditures for railway construction in Alaska
is the distance of the coastal terminal to the
centres of population, for this increases the cost
of all labour and materials. Shortness of the
summer season and adverse climatic conditions will
also enhance the cost. It has been estimated by a
competent engineer that the same class of con
struction wUl cost 75 to 100 per cent, more in
Alaska than in the Westem States. The same

¦Joooi- 2000H- 100^

31100'-
zooot- lOOO"— 0-

4000— 3000!-

FA\RBAHK&

PYRAM|10 HARBOPTiOFAIRBANK,S ROUTE

YAKUTAT

ALSEK

MILES'

lOOo;- CflRAow'^1' " TASNIJNA

0 MILES IiwmntI PASS
SKAGWAYy''

lOOnius II.

HntHORse

WHITE PASS AND VUKON RAtLWAY

FAIRBANKS

' CORDOVA TO FAIRftANKS ROUTE
I I ^ '
I I
! I

•wg.- kawuIa

aooe-
2000-

'O'SlSEWARO

FAIRBANKS

SEWARD TO FAIRBANKS ROUTE
Copyright, 1907, by the National Geographic Magazine
GENERALISED PROFILES OF PROPOSED RAILWAY ROUTES

Compiled by A. G. Maddrea

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 287
engineer has stated to the writer that in many
parts of the interior, where valleys and rolling
uplands are followed, the cost of a standard-gauge
railway wUl probably not exceed $30,000 per mUe,
but through the coastal mountain ranges may
be more than twice as great. Where detaUed
surveys and estimates are wanting, it will probably
be safe to count on an average cost of at least
$35,000 per mile for a standard-gauge railway from
the Gulf of Alaska to the Yukon.

RESOURCES TO BE DEVELOPED
It is evident that a discussion of railway routes
must consider the resources of the territory as well
as its physical features; that is, on one hand the
possibilities of traffic must be discussed; on the
other, the routes of approach. The question of
traffic again resolves itself into statistics of existing
commerce and the foreshadowing of that to come
from undeveloped resources.
In Alaska the problem is simplified by the fact
that the immediately available resources to be
developed by railway construction are all of a
mineral character. I do not by this mean to
decry the agricultural possibUities of certain parts
of the territory, but I do believe that these may
be almost neglected in the present discussion, for
the reason that these arable lands are too remote
from centres of population to yet compete with

288 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
the more accessible and fertUe lands in the States.
The capitalists wUl certainly look to the mines of
precious metals and of coal to recoup themselves
for outlaj's on raUway construction. With the
mining development some agricultural progress
wUl tmquestionably be made and eventuaUy be
a source of traffic for the road. There is no timber
for export except along the Pacific seaboard. In
fact, much lumber is annuaUy taken into the in
terior, and this consumption is likely to become
greater, if the present ravages by forest fires in
the Yukon Basin continue.
Mineral Wealth
The discussion of resources to be developed
by raUways, therefore, resolves itself into a con
sideration of the mineral wealth and its distribu
tion. In other words, it is a geologic problem.
Though the basal facts are very incomplete, yet
some salient feattires of the economic geology
are known, and these bear directly on the problem
of mineral resources. It is not my purpose to
describe the geology of the Territory, but I wiU
call your attention to the distribution of certain
terranes which carry minerals of economic value.
The rocks grouped together as undifferentiated
Paleozoic, including the gold-bearing horizons,
occur in three belts, one running paraUel to the
Pacific seaboard, a second lying centraUy in the

Copyrisht, 1907) by thc National Geographic Magaziac

Compiled by Alfred H. Brook*

• "»

MAP OF ALASKA SHOWING MT. McKINLEY AND GOLD PRODUCING AREAS

290 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
Yukon p-ovince, and a third forming the country
rock of the major part of the Seward Peninsula
(see map, p. 289). Of the $100,000,000 which
represents in round numbers the total mineral
production of Alaska, over 98 per cent, has been

CopTxi^it, Z907, by the Naticaal GeoeragJiic Maffiyinr

taken from areas underlain by these rocks. In
south-eastern Alaska there is a weU-defined con
tact between a broad belt of intrusives and these
metamorphic terranes, and this has been proved
to be the general locus of auriferous lodes. It
should be noted that the northern extension of this.
contact lies in a little-known region, as wiU be

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 291
shown later ; it is close to one of the proposed raU
way routes into the interior. Another fact bear
ing on the mineral resources can be interpreted in
terms of geology. On either side of the Wrangell
Mountains is a belt of Devonian rocks which are
copper-bearing (see map, page 290). These are,
indeed, the outcrops of the same terrane along two
areas of a syncline and form the objective points
of several raUway projects.
The map on page 289 shows the distribution of
the auriferous terranes of the territory so far as
determined. It emphasises the fact that there is
an extensive gold-bearing area lying well within
the heart of the Territory and 400 to 500 miles
from tidewater.
The total area of the known coal-bearing rocks
in Alaska is approximately 12,000 square miles.*
Unfortunately, much of the coal in the northern
province is of a lignitic character, and, though it
will eventually find local use, cannot now be re
garded as an important source of tonnage for
raUways. There are two coal fields, however, the
ControUer Bay and Matanuska, aggregating at
least 120 square miles, which carry high-grade
bittiminous and some semi-anthracite coal. This
coal is superior to any mined on the Pacific sea
board of the continent and is suitable for metal
lurgical purposes. Both fields are objective points
of raUways now under construction, and are ex
pected to fumish local tonnage for these roads,
* See map, page 296.

292 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
to be eventually extended into the interior. Bitu
minous coals also occur on the Yukon and at Cape
Lisbume, on the Arctic Ocean.
Only the copper deposits of the inland region
are important to this discussion, and these include
two different districts lying north and south of the
Wrangell Mountains, on the two arms of a syncline
(see map, page 290). The southern belt, to which
a raUway is being built, has been sufficiently de
veloped to indicate a large tonnage.
Agricultural Possibilities
I have shown that the resources which promise
to yield a tonnage are gold, copper, and coal. The
forests, except along the seaboard, have no value
for export.* Inland the heavy timber, of which
the largest trees are not over two feet in diameter,
is closely limited to the river courses. Though
there are sawmills in every placer camp of the
Yukon, that these do not even supply the local
demand is made evident by the fact that in 1905
upward of $30,000 worth of lumber was brought to
the Yukon from Puget Sound. The timber map
can also be used to indicate the general distribution
of arable lands, for the areas marked as timber
embrace practically all the lands which may possess
future agricultural value. A region lying adjacent
to and north of Cook Inlet appears to be best
adapted for agriculture, but in the Copper and
* See map, page 293.

Copyright, 1907, by the National Geographic Magazine
MAP OF ALASKA, SHOWING DISTRIBUTION OF TIMBER

CompUed hj Alfred H. Brooks

294 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
Tanana basins, too, there are considerable tracts
of agricultural and grazing lands. It should be
borne in mind that beyond the coastal barrier the
subsoU usuaUy remains perpetuaUy frozen and the
climate is semi-arid. These conditions, combined
with the shortness of the growing season and the
liabUity of frosts, do not invite agricultural pur
suits. Nevertheless, the conditions are no more
adverse than those existing in some European
countries which support a thrifty agricultural
peasantry and export agricultural products. The
richness of the soil is attested by the many gardens
found throughout the inland region. These are
specially successful where hot springs have thawed
the soU.
STATISTICS OP MINERAL PRODUCTION AND
COMMERCE
As regards the developed resources, little can
be added to what has already been presented.
The rapid increase in gold production is shown in
the diagram on page 303. Including 1906, the
total output of gold is about $100,000,000, only
about one quarter of whicb has come from the
inland districts, as shown in the table on oppo
site page:

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 295

GOLD PRODUCTION OP ALASKA, WITH APPROXIMATE DISTRIBUTION

YEAR

PACIFIC
COASTAL BELT.

COPPER RIVER AND
COOK
INLET
REGION.

YUKON BASIN.

SEWARD
PENINSULA.

TOTAL.

1880

$20,000 40,000
150,000
300,000200,000 275,000
416,000 645,000815,000860,000 712,000
800,000970,000 838,000882,000
1,569,5001,941,0001,799.5001,892,000
2,152,000 2,606,000
i!, 072, 000
i!, 546, 600
2,843,000
3,195,8003,430.0003,500,000

$20,000 40,000
150,000
301,000 201,000
300,000
446,000 675,000850,000900,000 762,000
900,000
1,080,0001,038,000 1,282,000
2,328,500n, 861, 000
2,439,500 2,517,000 5,602,000
8,166,0006,932,7008,283,4008,683,6009,160,400
15,630,000
*2I,200,000
1881
1882
18831884
$50,000 120,000175,000150,000150,000160,000180,000
375.000375.000 500,000
500,000
400,000
$1,000 1,000
25,00030,00030,00035.000
40,000 50,000
100,000110,000200,000
400,000 709,000
800,000
450,000400,000 500,000
650,000 550,000
800,000
1,000,0001,300,000
6,900,000
10,000,000
18851 886
1887 1888
1889 18901891
1892 18931894 1895 1896 18971898
1899
1900 19011902
19031904 19051906
$15,000 75,000
2,800,000
4,750,000
4,130,700 4,561,8004,465,6004,164,6004,800,000 7,300,000
Total
37,470,400
3,135,000
25,081,000
37,062,700
102,749,100
?Production for 1906 is estimated.
The copper production, which in 1905 was
valued at $750,000, has so far been only from
the coastal zone, and therefore does not affect this
discussion. In 1905 4 tons of coal were exported
from Alaska, as compared with 30 tons of gold,
which strikingly indicates that the coal-fields have
not yet been exploited. Several thousand tons
Copyrigllt. 1907. by tlu National Ceojuaphtc Magadne Compiled byJUficd H. Brookl
MAP OF ALASKA, SHOWING THE DISTRIBUTION OF THE COAL-BEARING ROCKS, SO FAR AS KNOWN

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 297
are, however, mined annually for local use. It is
worthy of note that both the Controller Bay and
Matanuska coal-fields carry some excellent coking
coals, and, if made accessible by railways, the
mining of this character of fuel for smelting of
the copper ores is likely to become an important
industry. (See map, page 296.)
The custom-house statistics show that $3,272,-
411 worth of goods were carried to the Alaska Yu
kon from the United States in 1905, which prob
ably represents between 15,000 and 20,000 tons of
freight. The cost of the freight on this tonnage
amounted probably to over $1,200,000 to the con
sumer. This sum, allowing three quarters for
operating expenses, would pay probably 5 per cent.
interest on the cost of constructing 200 miles of
railway, or half the distance from tide-water to
the Yukon placer camps. I call attention to this
to show that, even with the present condition of
development, railway projects are not entirely
visionary. COMMERCIAL DEMANDS FOR RAILWAYS
The important mineral-bearing area of Alaska
falls into four provinces, most of which are under
going rapid development.* These are (i) the
Pacific littoral, (2) the Seward Peninsula, (3) the
Susitna-Copper River province, and (4) the Yukon-
Tanana region. The Pacific littoral lies for the
most part on tide-water, open throughout the
* See map, page 306.

298 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
year, and needs no railway system to develop it,
though there are many places where short lines
will eventually be built.* The Seward Peninsula,
which in 1906 produced about $7,300,000 worth of
gold, is accessible to ocean-going vessels for fully
a third of the year. These, with the 100 mUes of
railway already in operation and other projected
lines, afford means of communication which, while
it leaves much to be desired, is sufficient to en
able large mining operations to be carried on.
Plans for the construction of the so-called New
York-to-Paris Railway, across Alaska and Siberia,
have foimd earnest advocates during the past
few years. Though this project rather falls out
side of the present discussion, yet it deserves
mention, if for no other reason than for the pub
licity it has received. Alaska can obviously not
be connected with the United States by rail
except by a line through Canadian territory.f
When the new Canadian transcontinental railway,
known as the Grand Trunk Pacific, which is to
reach to the Pacific coast in latitude 54°, is com
pleted, a branch could be extended northward,
which could reach Fairbanks with 800 to 1,000
miles of track. WhUe such a line would not en
counter any serious obstacles, yet many watersheds
would have to be crossed, and as it would run
transverse to the larger drainage channels there
would be heavy expense for bridges. A railway
from Fairbanks to Cape Prince of Wales would
* See map, page 281. f See map, page 300.

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 299
require at least 600 miles of track. It is proposed
to tunnel Bering Strait, which is 54 miles from head
land to headland, but is broken by the Diomede
Islands, lying about half way between. While tun
nels of the length required are probably not an
impossible engineering feat, they are so far beyond
anything of the kind as yet attempted that it must
be a bold group of capitalists who would undertake
it. Ferriage across the strait, difficult in summer
because of the strong northerly-setting current,
is impossible during seven or eight months in the
year because of the ice-floes. As the strait sel
dom freezes over, communication without a tunnel
would be entirely interrupted. (See map, p. 300.)
This intercontinental railway project, divested
of its glittering generalities, amounts to this : The
first 1 ,000 miles of track would parallel the Pacific
seaboard and reach a point less than 500 miles
distant from tide-water by a more direct route.
An additional 600 miles of track would be needed
to reach Bering Strait, and this, too, would be in
direct competition with deep-water navigation for
at least a third of each year. Furthermore, to con
nect the two sides of the strait, as proposed, would
require two tunnels more than twice as long as any
hitherto constructed. The Siberian part of the
route would appear to have even less justifica
tion, for here 1,500 to 2,000 miles of unsettled and
unproductive territory would have to be traversed.
Whatever the future may bring forth leading to
a demand for railway connection with Seward

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 301
Peninsula, it is certain that there is at the present
moment an urgent need for railways between the
GuH of Alaska and the inland region lying to the
north,* Only by such railways can the copper and
gold deposits of the Susitna and Copper rivers and
the placer fields of the Yukon reach their full
development. Here is an area about 400 miles
square, bounded on the east by the international
boundary, on the north by the Arctic Circle, on
the west by the 15 4th mer idan, and on the south
by the Pacific, which contains, as has been shown,
valuable copper deposits, the best of the known
Alaskan coal-fields, as well as extensive areas of
auriferous gravels. Good grass land is abundant
and cattle-raising can probably be profitably car
ried on to supply the local market, which is sure
to arise with mining developments. The agricul
tural values, though of interest to the economist,
will probably be disregarded by the capital
ist, who will look to the development of mines
for returns on his venture. Certainly without the
ore and coal deposits there would be no railways,
and without these there will be no agriculture
until more accessible regions are settled.
Though now the annual mineral output of this
province is only about $10,000,000 in gold, there
appear to be great possibilities in the way of
mining developments, provided it can be made
accessible to commerce.
The mining districts of the Susitna-Copper River
* See map, page 306.

302 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
province are only accessible by an overland jour
ney of loo to 300 rmles, for the rivers which empty
into the Pacific are for the most part torrential in
character and but few are navigable. AU the
supplies for these districts have to be sledded in
during the winter months, at a cost of 10 to 20
cents a poimd. The charges for summer trans
portation by pack-horse are from 30 cents to a
doUar a pound.
In the Yukon Basin conditions are somewhat
more favourable, because of the extensive system
of navigable waters. Before the freight reaches
the Yukon, however, it has to make a circuitous
route to the mouth of the river, open to navigation
only from the end of June to September. During
summer months Yukon River steamers can deHver
freight to points 20 to 100 miles distant from the
placer districts. This freight must await the win
ter snow before it can be finaUy sledded to its
destination, unless the summer charges of 20 to
25 cents a pound are to be paid. Under these con
ditions, freight which is moved by the cheapest
form of transportation (by steamer in summer and
sleds in winter) costs the miner from 5 to 10 cents
a pound, delivered at his mine. Translated into
terms more familiar to the average man, this means
that the mine operator may have to pay a rate on
aU his heavy machinery equivalent to the charges
for express between New York and San Francisco.
In fact, I have known mining enterprises to be
carried on in locaUties to which the transportation

'fitt 00*0 OOO
Isootfo 000-
^19 000 000 -
/la oooooo -
/17 000 OOO '
/is 000 OOO •
flSOOOMOi -
|u oooooo. —
|l»ow) ooa —
^* 000 000. -
|u oooooo. -
^0 ecoo0a. -~
^•OOOQDD. —
^•000 000. _
|t oooooo. —
^« oooooo. —
jt oooooo. —
^toooooa —
^t flooooa -«
|t eooooa.-*

D I AB BAa •

It oNon.-

» mrilkint im «m tm r

nimii

CompUed by Alfad H. Breoks Copyright, 1907, by the National Geographic Magtrine
THE INCREASING GOLD PRODUCTION OF ALASKjJ

304 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
charges were greater than letter-rate postage.
Under such conditions it is evident only deposits of
extraordinary richness can be exploited, and that
most extensive mining operations must await the
reduction of costs that can be brought about only
by the construction of a railway. (See map, p. 281 .)
GEOGRAPHIC CONTROL
Having set forth the facts which go to indicate
that the resources of central Alaska are sufficient
to warrant the construction of a railway, it is in
order to consider the question of geographic con
trol of routes. It has been shown that the present
demand for transportation faciUties is in the
province lying between the international boundary
and the 154th meridian, and this district will here
alone be considered.* The rugged mountain mass
skirting Alaska's southern border presents a serious
barrier to inland travel. This zone, including a
number of paraUel ranges forming the Pacific
Mountain systems of Alaska, but 50 miles in width
at Lynn Canal, broadens out to the north-west, and
at Cook Inlet attains a width of over 200 miles.
Inland of this system lies another province of far
less relief, which has been termed the Central
Plateau region. The drainage of this central
region is carried, for the most part, to Bering Sea
through the Yukon River, while the waters of the
Pacific Mountain province flow southward and
through the Chilkat, Copper, Susitna, and smaller
* See map, page 300.

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 305
rivers to the Pacific. One river alone, the Alsek,
finds its source in the Central Plateau region, and
traverses that entire Pacific Mountain system
on its way to the sea. Obviously the valley of
the Alsek is from a topographic standpoint the
only logical railway route into the interior. It wiU
be shown, however, that the commercial and po
litical factors are so adverse in case of the Alsek
Valley as to appear to rule it out.
Besides the valleys of the larger rivers, already
mentioned as flowing into the Pacific, there are a
number of low passes breaking through the moun
tain barriers. Among the most important for the
present discussion is the White Pass (2,800 feet),
a break in the Coast Range north of Lynn Canal,
across which a railway has already been built. At
the head of the Chilkat River, whose valley sepa
rates the Coast and Saint Elias ranges, there is an
unnamed pass about 3,100 feet high. West of
Lynn Canal the coastal range represents an almost
unbroken front, except for the Alsek and Copper
River vaUeys. At the inland front of the Saint
Elias Range the Alsek Valley has an altitude of
about 2,000 feet, and is connected with the drain
age basin of the White River to the west by a pass
but 2,400 feet high. (See profiles, page 286.)
Low River, which empties into Valdez Inlet
of Prince William Sound, is separated from the
Copper River by Marshall Pass, about 1,900 feet
high. At the head of the Copper there are several
passes leading into the Tanana Valley, of which

Copyright, X907, by the National Geographic Magazine Compiled by Allr«d S. VTOOlM
MAP OF ALASKA, SHOWING RAILWAY ROUTES AND KNOWN OCCURRENCES OF ECONOMICAU.Y
IMPORTANT MINERALS

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 307
the lowest is called Mentasta (3 ,000 feet), and the
next, which is unnamed, connects the Gulkana
and Delta valleys. Both of these passes are
through the eastern end of the Alaska Range, and
one or the other will be used by any railway built
from the Copper basin into the Tanana Valley.
It will be evident from the matter presented that
commercial control limits the choice of inland
railway routes to the region lying between Lynn
Canal on the east and Cook Inlet on the west.
Topographic control, furthermore, limits the choice
to four general zones, which may be named after
the chief rivers, whose valleys determine the
location. These are named from south to north:
(i) the Chilkat basin, (2) the Alsek basin, (3)
the Copper basin, and (4) the Susitna basin. (See
map, page 306.) Harbours
The first requisite for an inland railway from
the Gulf of Alaska is an adequate coastal terminal.
This means not only a deep-water harbour, but
also opportunity for construction of wharfs, as
weU as a town site near at hand. Other desirable,
though not absolutely necessary, conditions are
available timber, water power, and a favourable
climate. If possible, the harbour should be access
ible to sailing as well as steam vessels, and the
routes of approach should be devoid of dangers
to navigation; but, beside aU these desirable at
tributes, the distance of the coastal terminal to

3o8 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
the points of shipment on the west coast of the
United States is of first importance.
The recent geological history of the Pacific shore
line of Alaska is favourable to the formation of
harbours, for it is a glaciated region, and, as many
have shown, glaciation produces fiorded coast
lines. This is, however, only true where sediment
ation subsequent to glaciation has not silted up
and smoothed out the coast-line. The first con
dition prevails in south-eastern Alaska and on
Prince William Sound, where the coast is char
acterised by deep fiords with many tributary em-
bayments. In the intervening region the retreat
of the larger ice-sheet left many large glaciers on
the coastal slope of the Saiat Elias Range and in
the Piedmont belt, and these, having access to bed
rock along their margins, have contributed a large
amount of sediment. This sediment has been de
posited as extra-glacial material and has buried
much of the fiorded coast-line. Therefore the
physiographic features make south-eastern Alaska
or Prince William Sound the most favoured locali
ties for coastal terminals. (See map, page 300.)
Other factors have to be considered. Lynn
Canal is a superb deep waterway, but its funnel
shape causes it to be subject to severe wind-storms,
and it is therefore not favourable for sailing vessels.
The same holds true, in a less degree, of the upper
part of Prince WUliam Sound. Resurrection Bay,
which penetrates the mainland to a much shorter
distance, affords an almost ideal harbour. Though

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 309
the shore-line between south-eastern Alaska and
Prince WiUiam Sound is not favourable for har
bours, yet two indentations, Yakutat Bay and
ControUer Bay, fumish some protection for
vessels. (See maps, pages 306 and 310.)
In the comparison of distances it will be con
venient to use Puget Sound as a reference point.
Lynn Canal is less than i ,000 miles (statute) from
Puget Sound, as compared with 1,150 for Yakutat
Bay, 1,350 for Cordova Bay, 1,400 for Valdez
Inlet and Resurrection Bay. The route to Lynn
Canal is by an intricate and somewhat dangerous
inland waterway, and the actual time consumed
in the voyage is not very much greater to the
westem harbours than to Lynn Canal. As regards
climate, there is little to choose between the
various coastal terminals. Throughout the Pa
cific seaboard there is a heavy precipitation, vary
ing from about 90 inches on Lynn Canal to about
125 inches in Prince WUliam Sound. Heavy
storms are usually from the south-west, and more
commonly occur from October untU May. As
soon as the mountains are entered, very heavy
snowfalls are to be expected. The coastal belt is
usuaUy heavUy forested with timber which can be
used in construction. (See maps, pages 2 93 and 300.)
PYRAMID HARBOUR, TANANA RIVER ROUTE
ChUkat River debouches into a westem arm of
Lynn Canal, called "Pyramid Harbour," and its

Propesad railway iwntaa
C«al flelda.

**-^'^'^-'**'^OG^^^'"^c'^OISSANCE MAP. FROM CONTROLIXR BAY TO PRINCE WILLIAM SOUM.

Compiled by Alfred H. Brooks

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 311
valley separates the Saint Elias Range on the west
from the Coast Range on the east. A broad pass
about 3,000 feet high, 50 miles from the coast,
separates its head waters from inland-flowing
streams. Beyond this pass the route would enter
the Alsek basin and follow the inland front of the
Saint Elias Range. Two forks of the Alsek will
have to be crossed, but present no serious en
gineering difficulties. A series of depressions,
part of a system of abandoned valleys, affords
an ideal railway route beyond the west fork of
the Alsek. The route would probably skirt the
south shore of Lake Kluane 2,400 feet above sea-
level and enter the White River Valley near the
international boundary. After crossing White
River at the canyon, the line would be extended
through a broad, fiat depression to the Tanana
Valley, which would be followed to Fairbanks.
There are no very heavy grades to be overcome
in this route. Branch lines could be buUt to
the copper deposits of the White River and to the
FortymUe, Birch Creek, and Rampart placer dis
tricts. (See profile, page 286 and map, page 306.)
Pyramid Harbour, which affords shelter for
vessels and opportunities for wharf construction,
can be reached by a i ,ooo-mUe journey from Puget
Sound, entirely within sheltered waterways. The
ChUkat basin is well timbered (chiefly spmce and
hemlock) and contains some auriferous gravels,
though the producing district lies somewhat off
the proposed railway route. The copper deposits

312 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
of Rainy HoUow, which are undeveloped, lie
about 20 mUes off the main route. In the inland
region there are no developed mineral resources
except a smaU placer district. However, the meagre
knowledge of the geology indicates that there may
be here a continuation of the mineralised belt of
south-eastern Alaska, and that workable ore de
posits may yet be found. (See map, page 289.)
There can be no doubt that this is a natural
route into the interior, and it was long used by the
natives in their intertribal intercourse. It has
one grave disadvantage, namely, that for about
300 mUes it traverses Canadian territory, and
would therefore not afford an all-Alaskan route.
Under the custom laws, international railways are
always at some disadvantage, though that this
is not serious is shown by the many raUways be
tween Canada and the United States. Moreover,
it would not help to develop the resomrces of the
Copper River and Susitna River basins.
YAKUTAT BAY-ALSEK-TANANA RIVER ROUTE
The lower Alsek River Valley, which is trans
verse to the Saint Elias Range, affords a possible
route into the interior. The line would run south
eastward from Yakutat Bay for about 50 mUes,
to the mouth of the Alsek. A narrow-gauge
raUway has already been built for about 10 miles
of this distance, for the purpose of bringing fish
to the salmon cannery at Yakutat. The Alsek

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 313
VaUey is almost unexplored, but no doubt a rail
way could be buUt through it. It would intersect
the Pyramid Harbour-Tanana route, about 200
mUes from the coast, and would there attain an
altitude of about 2 ,400 feet. (See profile, page 286.)
Yakutat Bay, which is about 1,150 statute
miles (1,000 nautical mUes) by sea from Puget
Sound, is only a fair harbour, and, so far as known,
the proposed raUway wotUd not tap any mineral
deposits, though such may exist in the unexplored
St. Elias Mountains. At 170 miles from Yakutat
it joins the Pyramid Harbour route, and is open to
the same objection, inasmuch as it passes through
Canadian territory. (See maps, pages 300 and 306.)
CORDOVA BAY, OR CONTROLLER BAY, COPPER RIVER
Cordova Bay, an eastern arm of Prince William
Sound, lies about 30 mUes west of Copper River.
A railway, now in construction, is to follow a route
skirting the coastal margin of the mountains to the
Copper River, and then, tuming northward, to
traverse the Chugach Mountains through the val
ley of that river. A distance of about 200 mUes
will bring it to the mouth of the Chitina, and with
100 mUes more of track it wUl be able to tap the
copper belt, which skirts the southern margin of
the Wrangell Mountains. The route to the mouth
of the Chitina follows the river grade, and there
are no serious engineering difficulties, with the
exception of the two bridges, 800 and 1,200 feet

314 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
in length, which wiU have to be buUt across the
Copper to avoid the MUes and ChUds glaciers.
A corollary to this plan is to construct a branch
line about 35 miles in length from the Copper
River to the Controller Bay coal field. (See maps,
pages 306 and 310.)
A rival company has made a survey for a raU
way from near the mouth of Katalla River, 30
miles east of the Copper, which is to run north
westward to the head of the Copper River delta,
A single bridge wUl be needed to avoid the glaciers,
beyond which point the route wUl coincide with
the one above described. This route has the ad
vantage of the one above described, inasmuch as
it is somewhat shorter and has to bridge the Copper
but once. Katalla is only 1,200 miles distant from
Puget Sound as compared with 1,350 for Cordova
Bay. On the other hand, at Cordova there is an
excellent natural harbour, while at Katalla a
breakwater will have to be constructed. On the
other hand, again, a harbour at KataUa would
serve the Controller Bay coal-field. Whichever
line is built, certain it is that there is not room for
two railways along this Copper River route.
VALDEZ — COPPER RIVER ROUTE
An alternate plan for reaching the copper belt
of the Chitina region is to build a raUway from
Valdez. Valdez Inlet, a north-eastern arm of
Prince WUliam Sound, is 1,400 miles distant from
Puget Sound. Surveys have been made and some
* See map page 310.

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 315
construction work has already been done on
two raUway projects which are planned to cross
Marshall Pass, about 1,900 feet high and 30 miles
from Valdez, and thence down the Tasnuna River
to the Copper. From the mouth of the Tasnuna
the route would correspond with the route up the
Copper River. The distance from Valdez to the
mouth of the Chitina is about 20 miles less than
that from Cordova, but a pass 1,900 feet in height
has to be crossed ; on the other hand, two expensive
bridges over the Copper would not be needed.
This line would not reach the Controller Bay coal
field. (See profile, page 286.)
Most of the raUway projects into the Copper
River have been planned with the ultimate object
of extension into the Yukon Basin. Some of these
have chosen Eagle, others Fairbanks, as their
ultimate objective point. Of the two. Eagle ap
pears to be the less logical, as a line built to it
would pass through the eastern part of the au
riferous district, whUe Fairbanks is much more
central. (See map, page 306.)
From the mouth of the Chitina a line to Eagle
would follow the Copper River Valley and cross
to the Tanana through Mentasta Pass, 2,900 feet
high. Crossing the Tanana Valley the line would
enter an upland region not well known and would
probably have to cross two passes, 3,000 feet high,
before it descended to the Yukon.
A line to Fairbanks would be built up the Cop
per and Gakona river valleys across a pass 3,000

3i6 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
feet high, and down the Delta to the Tanana.
Crossing that stream, it woiild continue down it
to Fairbanks. (See profile, page 286.)
RESURRECTION BAY  SUSITNA VALLEY ROUTE
The upper waters of the Susitna River, which
empty into Cook Inlet, are separated by a broad,
low pass, about 2,400 feet high, from the Ninana,
or Cantwell, River, which flows into the Tanana.
This is one of the lowest depressions in the water
shed between the Pacific and the Yukon. (See map,
page 306.)
Unfortunately the upper part of Cook Inlet is
closed by the winter ice, so that a coastal terminal
would have to be sought on the east side of the
Kenai Peninsula, which separates Cook Inlet
from the Pacific. Such a one has been found in
Resurrection Bay, an excellent harbour, 1,400
mUes distant from Puget Sound. Here the town
of Seward was located two years ago and con
struction begun on the so-called Alaska Central
Railway, of which about 50 mUes has been com
pleted and considerable work done on 20 miles
more. * This route stretches northward from Re
surrection Bay and, crossing a pass, about 1,000
feet high, about 40 mUes from the coast, descends
again to tide-water at the head of Turnagain
Arm. After swinging around Turnagain Arm,
it bends northward, crossing the Matanuska
near its mouth. Here a branch is to be buUt to
Matanuska t coal-field, the immediate objective
* See profile, page 286. f See map, page 296.

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 317
point of the raUway. It is proposed to extend the
Yukon trunk line up the Susitna, across the depres
sion above mentioned, down the Cantwell to a
terminal which will be on the south side of the
Tanana River, near Fairbanks. The total mUeage
from Resurrection Bay to Fairbanks is about 500.
While this route is one of the shortest from the
coast to Fairbanks and also has the best grades,
it does not tap the copper deposits of the Copper
River, and, with the exception of the Matanuska
coal-field and some placer districts, does not
traverse an area now known to carry mineral in
commercial quantities. (See maps, pages 289 and
296.) CONCLUSIONS
The matter presented shows that there is
justification for a trunk line railway from the
Pacific seaboard to inland points, for it is only by
rendering accessible the vast mineral wealth of the
interior that its full measure of development can
be attained. It is evident that the value of such
a trunk line would depend on the construction of
many branches and feeders, which have not here
been considered. Furthermore, these railways
must be supplemented by many wagon roads.
The history of raUway expansion in the United
States has shown that the natural development
is, first, railroads built supplementary to estab
lished lines of water transportation; second, the
binding together of such auxUiary lines by a trunk

3i8 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
system. In Alaska the same evolution is witnessed.
The White Pass and Yukon RaUway, traversing
the coastal barrier, links tide-water with navi
gable waters of the Yukon system. The heavy
traffic being aU down stream, what should be a
comparatively cheap form of transportation is
established to Dawson, a distance of 700 mUes.
A placer field such as the Klondike yields prac
tically no outgoing toimage. When, however,
lode or coal mines are developed, there is a return
traffic which the upstream river steamers cannot
handle economicaUy. Moreover, freight shipped
to Alaskan points on the Yukon must run the
gamut of two custom-houses, with all the attend
ing annoyances of delays and formalities. It
should be remembered, too, that the route to
Fairbanks via the White Pass RaUway involves
the transhipment of freight at White Horse to
Canadian steamers, a journey of 500 mUes to
Dawson, then a transhipment to American boats
and another journey of 800 mUes, of which 200
mUes is up stream. If good connections are made,
some eight days are consumed in going from tide
water on L5mn Canal to Fairbanks, which by a
direct line could be reached in 450 mUes. As a
rule, freight is at least a month in transit. The
journey up the river, whUe it avoids one tran
shipment, involves changing from ocean vessels
to river steamers at the mouth of the Yukon, and
then a 1,200-mUe upstream journey. Moreover,
these routes are only open from the first of June

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 319
to the middle of September. It would seem,
therefore, that if the resources of the Yukon are
sufficient to warrant the construction of a railway,
such a railway should hold its own against the
competition of water transportation. In any event
a raUway into the Susitna-Copper River province
would encounter no competition with steamboat
transportation. Considered geographically, the routes described
fall into two classes, namely, the one comprising
those parallel to the lines of height, and the other
those transverse to the lines of height. In the first
group belong the trans-Alaskan-Siberian line, the
L5mn-Canal-Fairbanks line, together with its alter
nate, the Alsek-Fairbanks line. (See map, page 306.)
These routes, as has been shown, are parallel to
the dominant axes of uplift, and therefore harmoni
ous with the topography. As a matter of fact,
however, pioneer raUways are usually transverse
to the watersheds, for the reason that they are lo
cated to supplement and not to supplant water
transportation. The history of raUway develop
ment in the United States shows that piedmont
lines are the last to be buUt. A railway parallel
to the inland front of the St. Elias range would
traverse a series of abandoned valleys such as
are ever5nvhere recognised as ideal topographic
conditions. GeographicaUy, therefore, these routes would
appear to have the advantage, and would, more
over, render accessible a large area in the interior

320 TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT
of Alaska and northwest Canada not reached by
any raUways of the other group. When, however,
the developed resources are considered, they are
at a disadvantage, for, whUe they would tap the
upper copper-bearing region, they wotdd reach
neither the valuable southern copper belt nor the
coal-fields. The transverse lines, including the Copper
and Susitna routes, appear, as has been shown,
to follow the laws which govern the location
of pioneer railways, that is, they cross the
watersheds and connect existing lines of water
transportation. In any event, it is clear that a properly located
transverse line must follow one of the rivers
which traverse the coast ranges. Two such
railways, one up the Copper and one up the
Susitna, are already under construction. The
rival interests financing the two projects have
been loud in claiming that each route was the
best. In point of fact, the two supplement each
other. It is certain that a railway by way of the
Copper River follows the only feasible route to
copper deposits of the Wrangell region. It is
equally certain that as a route to the Yukon a
raUway up the Susitna River has the best of it.
Again, neither of these lines bisects Alaska as
would a railway extending from Lynn Canal to
Fairbanks and to the Seward Peninsula.
The matter presented in the foregoing pages
indicates that more facts are needed before

TO THE TOP OF THE CONTINENT 321
scientific deduction can be drawn of the best route
for immediate constructian. MeanwhUe, however,
in view of the large amount of capital ready for
investment in any promising enterprise, it is only
too likely that the problem will be solved by
experimentation alone, as has been done at great
cost elsewhere; in other words, by the survival
of the fittest.

YALE UNIVERSITY

39002 001030312b