The Mountaineer 39 
snow wall with a straight frontal attack, digging in with 
fingers and toes, I found myself, at 1:30 o'clock p. m., within 
twenty feet of the highest rocks on the peak, thus justifying 
our careful reconnaissance, for we had not actually seen the 
summit since long before leaving the main glacier. Up swarmed 
the others, and at a signal the highest rock felt its first touch 
of human feet simultaneously given. Our sizing up had been 
accurate even as to the time necessary for different parts of the 
climb, and we returned to camp shortly after 6 p. m., as I had 
told the boys we probably would. 
We intended to name the peak, the elevation of which is 
about 10,200 feet, Mt. Thompson, after the early explorer, but 
I have since found that there is another Mt. Thompson, so a 
different name must be given. The view was perhaps the most 
superb of the summer. The immense curve of the Starbird 
Glacier, the striking contrast offered by the snow and ice fields 
and rugged summits of the West Kootenay ranges, with the 
deep, green, intervening valley, and the tremendous Alpine 
sweep along the crest of the main range to the south, to the 
head of Toby Creek and beyond, and to the Spiilimacheen 
Mountains in the north, combined in a wonderful, glorious 
panorama. 
All hail to Horse Thief and Toby Creeks! And there are 
other creeks as little known, leading to unclimbed summits of 
these, the noblest of the Selkirks. There is an urgent eall to 
the mountaineer and hunter, and it will not long remain un- 
answered. Stevenson says: “We are not content to pass away 
entirely from the scenes of our delight; we would leave, if but 
in gratitude, a pillar and a legend.” 
We have built our cairns, and this is the story. And there, 
awaiting other explorers and climbers, are 
“the hills, 
Flashing the morn abroad 
From their iron crests, which took 
The rose of creation’s dawn— 
Themselves the earliest book, 
On whose carven crags, deep-drawn 
Stands written the will of God.” 
