STEEP TRAILS 



of the keen, starry night. At two o'clock we 

 rose, breakfasted on a warmed tin-cupful of 

 coffee and a piece of frozen venison broiled on 

 the coals, and started for the summit. Up to 

 this time there was nothing in sight that be- 

 tokened the approach of a storm; but on gain- 

 ing the sumnait, we saw toward Lassen's Butte 

 hundreds of square miles of white cumuh boil- 

 ing dreamily in the sunshine far beneath us, 

 and causing no alarm. 



The slight weariness of the ascent was soon 

 rested away, and our glorious morning in the 

 sky promised nothing but enjoyment. At 

 9 A.M. the dry thermometer stood at 34° in the 

 shade and rose steadily until at 1 p.m. it stood 

 at 50°, probably influenced somewhat by radi- 

 ation from the sun-warmed chffs. A common 

 bumble-bee, not at all benumbed, zigzagged 

 vigorously about our heads for a few moments, 

 as if unconscious of the fact that the nearest 

 honey flower was a mile beneath him 



In the mean time clouds were growing down 

 in Shasta Valley — massive swelling cumuli, 

 displaying delicious tones of purple and gray 

 in the hollows of their sun-beaten bosses. 

 Extending gradually southward around on 

 both sides of Shasta, these at length united 

 with the older field towards Lassen's Butte, 

 thus encircling Mount Shasta in one continu- 

 es 



