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THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



from the heights above and cascading to 

 the river in a chorus of joyous song. 



Camp was soon made on a grassy plot 

 by the river bank, sheltered by a grove of 

 young firs and close to a delicious spring 

 of clear, cold water. From here we made 

 many excursions to glacier and mountain 

 top. 



One morning we took an early start by 

 candle light, ascended the great Horse 

 Thief Glacier, and after some hours of 

 hard work, enlivened by many interesting 

 episodes, succeeded in reaching the sum- 

 mit of a high peak that had attracted us 

 for several days. 



This was clearly the first time human 

 feet had ever stood upon the summit, and 

 we were rewarded with a view of alpine 

 grandeur rarely equalled. In every di- 

 rection, as far as the eye could reach, 

 there extended a perfect ocean of snow- 

 capped peaks, ranging from 10,000 to 

 12,000 feet in altitude — nameless, nearly 

 all of them. 



Realizing that any one of these thou- 

 sands of peaks, if it were standing in the 

 neighborhood of a great city, would be 

 famous the world over, and that a great 

 part of the region in the midst of which 

 we stood was still awaiting exploration, 

 we felt almost as if we were discoverers 

 of a new continent. Unfortunately, for- 

 est-fire smoke, which had crept in during 

 the night, dulled to a considerable degree 

 the clearness of the view and rendered 

 our cameras useless. 



From careful aneroid measurements, 

 we calculated the height of the mountain 

 to be about 11,200 feet. We named it 

 "Mt. Bruce," after a leading citizen of 

 Windermere Valley. 



Our chief object on another excursion 

 was to climb Mt. Jumbo — a feat which 

 no one had ever accomplished. 



Starting as usual, before daybreak, we 

 scrambled over the lower slopes of Jumbo 

 Glacier without much difficulty, but be- 

 fore long we found ourselves entrapped 

 in a maze of seracs, or ice pinnacles, 

 which compelled slow and very careful 

 progress. This caused us to take to the 

 rocks, and at length, with the aid of the 

 rope, we succeeded in reaching the steep 

 rocky slope to the left of the glacier and 

 then on to the summit of the ridge. 



Arrived here, the bright sunshine with 

 which we had thus far been favored 

 seemed inclined to desert us, and ominous 

 clouds were seen rising in the southwest. 

 We chose to push on, however, for from 

 this point it was simply a long pull across 

 the snow-field to the base of the final 

 peak. So we roped up and started. For 

 an hour we made rapid progress, care- 

 fully avoiding the many concealed cre- 

 vasses and feeling confident of attaining 

 our goal. 



But meanwhile the clouds had been 

 gathering in increasing array, and when 

 within only half an hour of the final sum- 

 mit a terrific blizzard struck us full in the 

 face. Enveloped in a blinding snow, 

 driven by the wind, it was impossible to 

 stand against it or even to see our way 

 more than a few feet ahead. 



There was no possible alternative. We 

 simply had to turn our backs to the storm 

 and retrace our steps across the snow- 

 field — defeated ! 



Such an experience, while disappoint- 

 ing, is to the true mountaineer simply "a 

 part of the game," and he looks for better 

 luck next time. But the "next time" did 

 not come for us on this trip. For three 

 days we lingered in camp, waiting in vain 

 for the clouds to clear away. 



But the weather as a whole continued 

 decidedly unfavorable, and meanwhile a 

 vast quantity of fresh snow had fallen on 

 the mountain tops, making high-altitude 

 trips quite out of the question. So we 

 regretfully packed up our belongings and 

 hit the trail back for "civilization." 



"Going to the mountains is going home," 

 was a favorite phrase with John Muir, 

 the beloved evangelist of outdoor life, 

 and from this text he was wont to preach 

 most eloquently and convincingly. Happy 

 are those who have discovered this truth ; 

 for it means not merely physical recrea- 

 tion and esthetic delight, but a keen men- 

 tal stimulus — a new sense of the real 

 values of life and a blessed inspiration 

 toward better things. 



America possesses exhaustless resources 

 for those who are desirous of "going 

 home," and some of the greatest and 

 most satisfying of these are to be found 

 in the region where we followed the 

 Horse Thief Trail. 





