46 The Mountaineer 



surely all of us remember with gratitude that moment 

 at the end of the day when Dr. Van Horn gathered us 

 together in the beautiful park that for three weeks was 

 to be our home. The sunset glowed down the gorge be- 

 yond the Mother Mount Range. The magnificent 

 snows of Rainier deep as the ages, white as the Great 

 White Throne itself, were flushed with rosy color, the 

 very Jungfrau light. 



A history of each day that followed in this happy 

 camp would not be too detailed for mountaineering 

 memories. Each day was different but alike delightful 

 to experience and recall. One felt oppressed at times 

 with having only five senses, however active, with which 

 to enjoy the mountain beauty investing us from every 

 side, or to appreciate the opportunities for companion- 

 ship. You had to be in a kind of a hurry all the time 

 to keep up with the sensations, thoughts and impres- 

 sions that poured in upon you. It was impossible to 

 convey it to yourself in adequate manner, much less to 

 friends far away. Consequently, it was noticeable that 

 the picture post card was the main medium of corre- 

 spondence. And such post cards! — only those who re- 

 ceived these mementos know beside ourselves what pho- 

 tographs we had in camp. 



The most abiding and recurrent memory to me is 

 the spirit of the people. Ninety-two at our greatest 

 the second week, and fifty-two at our smallest, the last 

 few days, we formed a nucleus for an ideal state. Here 

 were authority and rules for which the reason was so 

 evident in each case that obedience was merely intelli- 

 gent co-operation. No one was greater or less sure by 

 talents or temperament. Each made his place by these 

 alone. This was remarked one day by the cook's 

 helper : 



"All the people are so good as one anudder — no 

 richer, make no difference." 



