For the Scotsman William McKinlay, who was witnessing the wonders of a living, moving ice pack for the first time, there was an awesome, dangerous beauty. He scribbled furiously in his journal: I was fascinated by the scene. The ice was much broken up and rough, with scarcely a level patch of any great extent. The multitude of hummocks of varying size and height had weathered throughout the summer so that their surfaces were clear of snow and all their edges had been smoothed and rounded. Their shapes were infinite in variety and they gleamed and glistened in every conceivable shade of blue.
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