STEEP TRAILS 



to see that the storm was not far off. The 

 mountain rises ten thousand feet above the 

 general level of the country, in blank exposure 

 to the deep upper currents of the sky, and no 

 labyrinth of peaks and canons I had ever been 

 in seemed to me so dangerous as these immense 

 slopes, bare against the sky. 



The frost was intense, and drifting snow-dust 

 made breathing at times rather difficult. The 

 snow was as dry as meal, and the finer particles 

 drifted freely, rising high in the air, while the 

 larger portions of the crystals rolled like sand. 

 I frequently sank to my armpits between 

 buried blocks of loose lava, but generally only 

 to my knees. When tired with walking I still 

 wallowed slowly upward on all fours. The 

 steepness of the slope — thirty-five degrees in 

 some places — made any kind of progress 

 fatiguing, while small avalanches were being 

 constantly set in motion in the steepest places. 

 But the bracing air and the sublime beauty of 

 the snowy expanse thrilled every nerve and 

 made absolute exhaustion impossible. I seemed 

 to be walking and wallowing in a cloud; but, 

 holding steadily onward, by half-past ten 

 o'clock I had gained the highest summit. 



I held my conamanding foothold in the sky 

 for two hours, gazing on the glorious landscapes 

 spread maplike around the immense horizon, 



62 



