ice-glut

Updated: July 3, 2026

And Jacob Welse knew that his was the larger share in that manifest joy. The river, fallen to its winter level, was pounding its ice-glut steadily along. But in falling it had rimmed the shore with a twenty-foot wall of stranded floes. The great blocks were spilled inland among the thrown and standing trees and the slime-coated flowers and grasses like the titanic vomit of some Northland monster.

Jack London - A Daughter of the Snows