A NIGHT ON SHASTA'S SUMMIT 



slope and the straggling storm-bent pines 

 around us. Melted snow answered for coffee, 

 and we had plenty of venison to roast. Toward 

 midnight I rolled myself in my blankets, slept 

 an hour and a half, arose and ate more venison, 

 tied two days* provisions to my belt, and set 

 out for the summit, hoping to reach it ere the 

 coming storm should fall. Jerome accompanied 

 me a little distance above camp and indicated 

 the way as well as he could in the darkness. 

 He seemed loath to leave me, but, being reas- 

 sured that I was at home and required no care, 

 he bade me good-bye and returned to camp, 

 ready to lead his animals down the mountain 

 at daybreak. 



After I was above the dwarf pines, it was 

 fine practice pushing up the broad unbroken 

 slopes of snow, alone in the solemn silence of 

 the night. Half the sky was clouded; in the 

 other half the stars sparkled icily in the keen, 

 frosty air; while everywhere the glorious wealth 

 of snow fell away from the summit of the cone 

 in flowing folds, more extensive and continuous 

 than any I had ever seen before. When day 

 dawned the clouds were crawling slowly and 

 becoming more massive, but gave no intima- 

 tion of immediate danger, and I pushed on 

 faithfully, though holding myself well in hand, 

 ready to return to the timber; for it was easy 



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