The Ascent of Chief Mountain 



the bottom, we found a perfect camp. As 

 soon as the tents were pitched, Fox set about 

 preparing dinner, while the seven horses, freed 

 from their loads, buried their noses in the grass 

 in perfect contentment. 



As he sat in the door of the tent, the Doc- 

 tor's eyes seemed glued to his field glass, while 

 the object lenses ever pointed in the one direc- 

 tion, westward; under the brim of the Indian's 

 broad hat, as he lay apparently dozing before 

 the fire, I could see his black eyes fixed on 

 the same point; and even Fox, constantly 

 shifting his position about the fire, rarely took 

 one which placed his back toward that black 

 wall behind which the sun was now gradually 

 sinking. For myself, all the longing of the 

 past year had concentrated itself into a desire 

 to rush over this last remaining distance; to 

 get to that magic crown, to feel it with hand 

 and foot, and to see whether, as the Piegans 

 aver, it denied even a single foothold for a 

 mortal man. 



After dinner the Doctor and I did go to it. 

 We clambered out of our little basin on to the 

 higher portion of the domelike pedestal, and 

 from this platform, on which rests the great 

 crown, looked past its two edges at the vast 



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