Hunting in Many Lands 



finally, just as we surmounted one of the high- 

 er foothills, at the summit of the long, sloping, 

 forest-clad pedestal before us broke through 

 the crown of the Chief. Toward us, on the 

 east, it showed a black rectangular wall 2,000 

 feet in length, 1,500 in height, and from its 

 sharp corners the broken mists streamed away 

 southward like tattered garments. 



A few hasty pictures, taken while Fox 

 mended a broken pack cinch, and we pressed 

 on toward the foot of the mountain. Some 

 benign influence was with us even thus early, 

 and we were guided into the easiest way. 

 Streaks of burned forest, bristling with wind- 

 falls, were slowly but successfully threaded, 

 long rock slides luckily avoided, while we 

 mounted steadily slope after slope; until 

 finally, late in the afternoon, we pulled our 

 panting horses out, just above timber line, 

 upon the comparatively level summit of the 

 pedestal. The foot of the great crown wall 

 was still a mile away and 1,000 feet above us, 

 but we were near enough and high enough for 

 our purpose; and in a deep basin, sheltered 

 from the wind and carpeted with softest moun- 

 tain grass, and with the only water in the 

 neighborhood sparkling up from a spring in 



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