of a snow slide. At that point it was 

 about five hundred feet across, at an 

 angle of forty-five degrees ; below us a 

 thousand feet was a vicious looking 

 glacial torrent; above, an equal dis- 

 tance, was the lower edge of the gla- 

 cier, the mother of all this devastation. 

 The fearless-footed mountain sheep 

 had crossed this sliding crumbling 

 earth and gravel incline with apparent 

 ease. For us it was go on or go back. 

 There was no middle course. The row 

 of tiny hoof marks running straight 

 across from one safe bank to the other 

 deceived us. It could not be so very 

 difficult. We dismounted; Nimrod 

 threw the bridle over his horse's head 

 and started across, leading his beast. 

 The animal snorted as he felt the foot- 

 hold giving way beneath him, but Nim- 

 rod pulled him along. It was impos- 



