(Roc6j> (mountain TUonberfanfc 



exposed places at timber-line, protected in an 

 elkskin sleeping-bag. Wildly, grandly, the 

 surging gusts boomed, ripped, roared, and ex- 

 ploded, as they struck or swept on. The ex- 

 perience was somewhat like lying in a diver's 

 dress on a beach during a storm. At times I was 

 struck almost breathless by an airy breaker, or 

 tumbled and kicked indifferently about by the 

 unbelievable violence of the wind. At other 

 times I was dashed with sand and vigorously 

 pelted with sticks and gravel. 



This was always at some distance from tree, 

 boulder, or ledge, for I took no risks of being 

 tossed against trees or rocks. Many times, how- 

 ever, I have lain securely anchored and shielded 

 beneath matted tree-growths, where in safety 

 I heard the tempestuous booms and the wildest 

 of rocket-like swishes of the impassioned and 

 invisible ocean of air. The general sound- 

 effect was a prolonged roar, with an interplay 

 of rippings and tumultuous cheerings. There 

 were explosions and silences. There were hours 

 of Niagara. In the midst of these distant roar- 

 ings the fearful approach of an advancing gale 



56 



