v.] FOREST SUCCEEDING GLACIER. 69 the boulders to the foot of the glacier, crossing innumerable streams of milky water. The other continues up through alder scrub to the higher slopes, commanding fine views over the ice with its blue fissures and crevasses. H. and I chose the upward path. Mounting rapidly, and crossing a stream coming down in a cascade from the glaciers to the left, we reached the farthest limit of the path, and sat down to study the scene. The pine forest, though extending for over 1,000 feet on the mountain sides, above the lower portion of the glacier, ceased in front of its terminal face at a distance of about half a mile. This was evidence of the retreat and shrinking of the glacier. The pines, where the forest ceased abruptly, were at least twenty years old, the space between them and the ice being covered by alders. The advance of the forest in the track of the glacier does not seem to be in direct proportion to the rate of its retreat and the age of the trees. The rate at which the glacier bed can crumble itself, and be prepared by the leaf mould formed by the alders for the growth of pines and firs, is a process so slow that pines have time to grow to full age, and fall, and rot, before the soil ahead is prepared for their advance. Not only here, but in many other valleys we were in, the same thing was noticeable. The alders thrive where there seems to be little or no soil, and they can also, owing to their pliancy, hold their own in avalanche tracks, where the stout pines would be utterly smashed up. However useful the alders may be in performing these offices in the economy of nature, they form an almost impenetrable jungle, and one of the greatest obstacles to travel that it is possible to imagine. On the steepest slopes they grow downward, and after a few feet turn upwards to the light. Scrambling through their stems thus involves stepping over a selection of stiff springing branches, and stooping sufficiently low to get yourself and your pack under the next branch above. You can, when in such scrub, but seldom get your feet on the solid ground, so a slide downwards, and a sudden wrench on your arms, in trying to check your descent, is a matter of constant recurrence. As the shades of evening were closing in we thought it wise to return to our quarters. Having wandered a little beyond the path we missed it for some distance, and got our first experience of trying to take a "beeline" through the alders. The first blood was drawn, the first skin knocked off our shins, before we reached our supper and bed. Yet we went to sleep with the satisfaction that no time had been wasted; for we had taken our first walk in the Selkirks on the 19th day after leaving Queenstown. CHAPTER VI. "On the over-worked soil Of this planet, enjoyment is sharpened by toil; Our map. First climbs.-Packing.-View from arête of Mount Sir Donald. Or the peaks encircling and within sight of Glacier House, some had names. These soon became familiar to us, but of what lay beyond the ridges forming the sky-line, no one could give us the faintest idea. Mr. Hume, the assistant manager of Glacier House, had accompanied some gentlemen during the winter, on a snow-shoe expedition to the head of the Asulkan valley, and obtained a view of the ranges beyond, but his ideas of the topography were not very clear. Few people, accustomed to visit Switzerland, where accurate maps are found ready to hand, by which they can unravel the maze of ranges and valleys seen from a mountain top, can have any con ception of the difficulties of forming a definite picture of a rugged country which has never been mapped out, where one's outlook is closed in by higher mountains, and where but little disconnected bits of valley are visible. The riddle we had undertaken to solve was the structure of that section of country lying immediately to the south of the Canadian Pacific railway track and inclosed by the highest peaks of the Selkirks. During the first couple of weeks' work, nothing seemed to develop clearly. Then the scene began to take shape, and when the time came for us to leave the mountains, we found it hard to recall those first feelings of bewilderment, so familiar had the mountains, glaciers and valleys become. In undertaking any topographical survey, the first thing to decide is,-On what scale shall we make our map? For many reasons we came to the conclusion that four inches to the mile would be sufficiently large on which to put down all the details of importance. The next step is to measure a line which shall form a base for our first triangle. If a base-line of one mile is measured, the picture of that on the map is a line of four inches, and thus the scale of the map is fixed; all other distances being in equal proportion. In great trigonometrical surveys, such as that of Great Britain and Ireland; the measurement of the baseline is of such importance that it is done with micro scopic accuracy. In our case such minute accuracy |