THE MOUNTAINEER 



the strongest were urged not to make the attempt. The warning was un- 

 heeded by many, however, and the start was made on the run. After sev- 

 eral delays were caused by one whose ambition was greater than her 

 strength, the girls agreed to drop out and permit the men to go on alone. 

 Eleven men and one woman continued to the top at a speed probably never 

 exceeded in making an ascent; all returning to the main party more or less 

 exhausted, though none admitting it. 



Awakening the next morning in a chilly gloom which foreboded a storm, 

 the march toward Seattle was resumed, only to encounter a heavy rain 

 which steadily became heavier, obscuring the Avay and making footing so 

 slippery and precarious that the attempt to climb Seattle, much less Cougar 

 Peak, was voted out of the cpiestion. Drenched to the skin, by noon all 

 were thoroughly chilled, and the water-soaked blankets heavy to carry. Bvit 

 the gloomier the outlook the cheerier the spirit evinced, and camp was finally 

 entered in the midst of cheers, despite the fact that the two days' tramp 

 meant for many not the conquest of a single peak. A candy pull was soon 

 started to cheer up the wet spirits, but it must be confessed that many slept 

 wet that night and continued so next day as well. Indeed, the Landes party 

 which arrived about noon was no wetter, having enjoyed good weather 

 until but a few miles below permanent camp. 



July 8th dawned clear and bright and Avas spent as a drying out day by 

 all but a few who made the ascent of jMount Mean}'. Only two more days 

 were left before the first comers must return homeward, so although the 

 ninth dawned gloomy and foggy, thirty-seven started bravely for the two 

 days' tramp to the summit of Mount Olympus; each individual, however 

 slight, laden with his or her blankets and ten pounds of provisions. The 

 various trips up Olympus are chronicled elsewhere, so it remains for me 

 merely to outline the return to camp and from thence homeward, leaving 

 the events occurring after our departure to be told by some one fortunate 

 enough to be among the last to leave the scene of the IMountaiueers' six- 

 weeks' outing. 



But before we retrace our steps I cannot refrain from a brief mention 

 of our camp at the base of Olympus, now known to us as Hospital Camp, be- 

 cause of the accident to Miss Bailey ; but even this association cannot obliter- 

 ate from memory that wonderful canyon, unexpectedly discovered on the 

 eve of our arrival, while in quest of a band of elk. A can^'on whose straight 

 walls grew steeper and steeper, extending down to unknown depths, until a 

 glance over the edge made one grow dizzy; while the river, which, but a 

 short distance before, roared beside us, now sounded but an echo at the bot- 

 tom of the canyon far below us. 



Then, too, the glaciers, so temptingly near our camp — how we longed 

 to explore them. Lacking the magnitude of the Muir and Davidson glaciers 

 in Alaska, and the peculiar individuality of the various glaciers of Mt. 

 Rainier, they yet have a charm which makes one resolve to know them 

 some day, even as one knows those others. 



But the order to return is given, so reluctantly we leave, rejoining those 

 at the main camp al)out suiulown of the same day as our attempted ascent 

 of Olympus. The next morning we start on our four days' tramp toward 

 home, reaching Port Angeles August 14 and leaving on the steamer Whatcom 

 just as twilight darkens into night. At dawn of the following day we are 

 in Seattle,- — and the Mountaineers' first annual outing — probably the most 

 wonderful outing ever taken by any mountain-climbing club — is a thing of 

 the past. 



