94 The Mountaineer 



Rain seemed imminent, so retreating to permanent 

 camp, we waited for clear weather. During- this time 

 the Easton party arrived, having come across the moun- 

 tain from BelHngham and endured intense sufferings. 



On the afternoon of the second day the weather 

 cleared, and we started for the mountain, each carrying 

 his sleeping bag and a share of commissary supplies. 

 Arriving at temporary camp at timber line, we hurriedly 

 made preparations for the night, in a tiny natural park 

 5,000 feet in altitude. Here and there were patches of 

 snow, soft green grass between, and clumps of wind- 

 blown fir trees. 



Boulder Glacier could be seen at the west. Park 

 Creek Glacier lay northeast. Baker Lake lay to the south- 

 east, and Mt. Shuksan was directly east. Right before us 

 rose Mt. Baker. Anticipating a strenuous tomorrow, 

 we retired early, but not for slumber. For the beautiful 

 clear night proved a most chilly one, and the cold wind 

 blowing over the snow fields pierced straight through 

 sleeping bags. When the bugle sounded at 2 o'clock, 

 there was no reluctance in obeying its summons. 



This was just before the dawning of the much an- 

 ticipated day. We groped for our belongings in the dark. 

 How the lacings of the boots did evade trembling 

 fingers. How awkward you are in your haste. Then 

 you look up at the quiet stars and seem to gather some 

 of their calmness. On the morning in question a huge 

 meteor shot through the heavens, illuminating the whole 

 sky. We took it for a good omen. Breakfast ready, and 

 with canteen and alpenstock, you proceed toward the 

 commissary. What does the scene before you mean? 

 There before the blazing fire is a line of grotesque fig- 

 ures. Beside the fire are three wizards pronouncing 

 incantations over steaming caldrons. 



Is this the spirit of the mountains dispensing some 

 magic potion to these uncanny creatures? 



Have you, like Rip Van Winkle, fallen asleep on the 



