658 EEPORT UNITED STATES GEOLOGICAL SURVEY. 



until I came to a x)lace where tlae rocks were well polished and standing 

 almost vertical 5 but, not daunted, I started up, finding here and there a 

 finger-hold or a crack in which I could stick my toe ; finally reached a place 

 where there was good footing ; here I waited for my two companions, but 

 had not waited long when a cry of " Help " came from one of them. I im- 

 mediately crawled out en a jutting stone, and, looking down, I saw, about 

 40 feet below, one of them clinging to the face of the bluif, reminding me 

 of a starfish hanging to a breakwater. He had gotten himself in such a • 

 position that he could neither get up nor down. Casting him the end of 

 the rope, which he caught, and, thus aided, he was soon up with me. 

 Another lift or two, the climbing became better, the rocks becoming 

 more broken, thus offering better hold for hand and foot. We were soon 

 up to the notch, which is formed by the two walls as they cross the peak ; 

 but, much to our chagrin, we could find no means of getting up the one 

 to our right, which we must do to reach the high point. At the lowest 

 point this wall is about 40 feet high, and is a smooth vertical wall of 

 granite, without a break anywhere that a man could possibly crawl up. 

 Thus we found ourselves comi^letely blocked within a few feet of the 

 top, after a long and tiresome climb of nearly 5,000 feet on foot. Turn- 

 ing to the left, we climbed to the top of the western point, where we 

 found a circular inclosure of rocks, such as are often found on many of 

 our Western mountains, evidently built by Indians ; also a pile of rocks 

 with a stick stuck in its center, left by some white man ; the former very 

 ancient, while the latter had been left there only a few years. These 

 two marks told the whole story ; evidently the builders, like ourselves, 

 had been unable to reach the highest point. From this point I could 

 see the opposite wall from top to bottom, but at no point could I dis- 

 cover a break, much to my disappointment. E^ow for the first time, 

 after climbing hundreds of peaks during my twelve years of experience, 

 I was compelled to give up reaching the summit, at least from that side. 

 It is just possible that the top might be reached from the southeast; 

 but it would have taken us several days to go back and recross the 

 range and approach the peak from that side. I thought best to make 

 the best of my present opportunity. Therefore I set up my instrument 

 ; and took what observations I could. These being reduced to centre, they 

 enabled me to connect the work northward. I determined to continue 

 northward, trusting that I might have an opportunity of trying ther 

 . ascent of the peak later in the season when on my way back. Com- 

 pleting my observations from this point as quickly as possible, we com*- 

 menced to retrace our steps, and did not find it much easier than the 

 ascent; esiiecially when we came to climb out of the canon we found that 

 we were well-nigh exhausted ; but at last we reached our side camp, 

 and, as we had eaten our last provision in the morning, we determined to 

 try and reach our main camp. We packed up in a few minutes and 

 started down the mountain, reaching camp some time after dark, and 

 greatly to our delight we found the cook had prepared a good supper 

 for us, having anticipated our return. 



The following August 21 found us on our way toward Sawtelle's Peak. 

 Marching toward the northwest over a rolling grassy valley, we crossed 

 Henrj^'s Fork just below the Big Bend, thence following up the valley, 

 which we found heavily timbered for some distance, but finally we struck 

 the stream again where the valley becomes more open. There the stream 

 flows along in its gentle winding course, filled with great white swan, 

 geese, ducks, and other water-fowl, while the valley was full of sand-hill 

 cranes. Each making its pecuhar noise created a great bedlam of life in 

 this wild and lonely place. 



On the evening of August 24 we reached the valley of Henry's Lake, 



