By about three or
four o'clock I found myself on the river-bed.
From calculations which I made as to the height of the valley on the
other side the saddle over which I had come, I concluded that the saddle
itself could not be less than nine thousand feet high; and I should think
that the river-bed, on to which I now descended, was three thousand feet
above the sea-level. The water had a terrific current, with a fall of
not less than forty to fifty feet per mile. It was certainly the river
next to the northward of that which flowed past my master's run, and
would have to go through an impassable gorge (as is commonly the case
with the rivers of that country) before it came upon known parts. It was
reckoned to be nearly two thousand feet above the sea-level where it came
out of the gorge on to the plains.
As soon as I got to the river side I liked it even less than I thought I
should. It was muddy, being near its parent glaciers. The stream was
wide, rapid, and rough, and I could hear the smaller stones knocking
against each other under the rage of the waters, as upon a seashore.
Fording was out of the question. I could not swim and carry my swag, and
I dared not leave my swag behind me.
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