598 
THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 
it appears to be less than lo miles away, 
but on further inquiry the tourist learns 
that it is more than 40 miles distant, di- 
rect line from sea-level at Puget Sound, 
from where mountain survey measure- 
ments are made and all Rainier Park 
travel starts. 
Studying it more in detail, he begins 
to comprehend its size and rugged anat- 
omy. But the scene is beginning to 
change ; the sun is low in the west ; the 
lower end of the glaciers, white a few 
minutes ago, become a graded tint of 
rose pink ; the blue has changed to a pur- 
ple, but the summit is still white, for it is 
7,000 feet higher than the snow-line and 
projects up into the white rays of the 
setting sun. The red rays are slowly 
moving up the mountain ; the summit 
has changed to rose hue, the last color- 
ing of day, which it holds for some min- 
utes after the sun has left the landscape, 
and then changes back again finally 
from warm to the cold purple afterglow 
that generally precedes a summer night 
on Puget Sound. Many yards of canvas 
and photo film have been used on this 
distant subject, and even the best pic- 
tures but belittle the mountain's ever- 
changing grandeur and magnitude. 
Viewing Mo/.nt Rainier after the 
weather has been fair for some days, it 
is common to see the summit covered 
with a cloud. This cap is very interest- 
ing and is always looked at for a fore- 
cast of a change of weather, especially 
when it forms immediately in contact 
Avith the summit, hugging down closely 
like an inverted saucer. When the cap 
forms suddenly, like the sudden drop of 
a barometer, the change of weather is 
not long coming. The cap does not al- 
ways touch the mountain top, but is oc- 
casionally some distance above and holds 
its shape during a whole day or more. 
Erom a far distance this cap appears 
to be a still cloud with no motion, but in 
studying it from close range one will 
observe that at the west edge the cap de- 
velops rapidly, dissolving to invisible 
condition at the east edge. Evidently it 
is a stationed point of condensation, but 
not a stationed accumulation of mois- 
ture. I have studied the philosophy of 
this cap at close range during 16 sea- 
sons' visits and never have seen a still 
or real calm condition on the mountain's 
summit at the time ; there is always some 
wind and most generally a gale (p. 504) . 
Another caplike cloud often forms 
some distance to the northeast of the 
summit and considerably higher. What 
relation this one has to the mountain is 
much more difficult to explain. It is 
probably due to the condensation in an 
eddy or junction of wind currents that 
on their coarse come together some dis- 
tance beyond the mountain top, which 
has disturbed the wind like an island 
divides a river into two streams that join 
again in one some distance beyond. 
In places among the higher mountains 
on lee slopes, where snow is not dis- 
turbed by wind, the pack of one season's 
fall is sometimes 50 feet deep as late in 
the season as September. The snow gar- 
ment of the mountains is their chief fea- 
ture of attraction, for but few people 
would visit these piles of lava were it 
not for the great ice fields. 
The crater of Rainier, concerning 
which many questions are asked, is not 
dangerous, but rather a life-preserver, 
and has been so used during storm. 
There are no openings within the crater 
large enough to be dangerous. The 
whole circle of 1,600 feet diameter is 
filled with fallen black lava and covered 
with a thick pack of snow the year 
round, except at the edges near the cra- 
ter's rim, which are kept melted by con- 
tinual warmth. The main crater was the 
mountain's principal vent of eruption, 
but there is one other place called the 
little crater ; it and a few other spots 
near the top are also warm. 
The first parties to the summit always 
made the crater their inn, where they 
stayed at night, warmed by the steam 
that issues from the small fissures just 
within the crater's rim ; but of late the 
plan has been to reach the summit from 
Camp of the Clouds (elevation, 5,500), 
starting about i a. m., reaching the sum- 
mit just after noon, and, after some hours' 
rest returning to camp the same evening. 
In making a trip to the mountain's 
summit, August, 191 1, the writer took 
