HELIOGRAPHING ON MOUNT ADAMS. 



363 



we were glad we were not back with them. 

 The Mayamas immediately beneath us were 

 doing comparatively little traveling, so we 

 spent some time in looking backward. A 

 few more short pulls up over the boulders 

 across a bit of gravel and we stood on the 

 edge of the lofty plateau known as the 

 East summit. 



A thousand feet above us towered the 

 true summit. We hurried across the snow- 

 laden plateau and started on the last great 

 climb. Our choice of routes lay between 

 a ridge of lava gravel and the snow, which 

 had thawed and frozen alternately, leaving 

 depressions which furnished good footholds. 

 Most climbers choose the ridge ; but we took 

 the snow. Our progress up this slope was 

 slower than any we had maae. our forced 

 climbing had begun to tell on us, but we 

 pushed slowly on. Reaching the highest 

 point of rocks we found a record box that 

 had been left by the old Alpine club of Port- 

 land, Oregon. We did not stop long to ex- 

 amine it, but turned again toward the sum- 

 mit, which in a few moments more would 

 be ours. Across a slight hollow and up the 

 gradual slope on the other swell we went. 

 In a short time, flushed and triumphant, we 

 paused on the top of the mighty snowclad, 

 glanced downward, and, waving our alpen- 

 stocks, shouted to the Mazamas still strug- 

 gling upward from •below. They waved 

 their alpenstocks and shouted an answer. 

 Our watch recorded 9.10 a. m. We had been 

 5^2 hours from the camp, or 4^2 hours on 

 the real climb; the quickest ascent ever 

 made. 



The mountain was completely surrounded 

 by a black wall of smoke. Miles South- 

 ward the sharp summit of Hood rose out 

 of the inky mass, while, in the West the 

 pure symmetrical dome of St. Helens sprang 

 into the clearer air. Looking away to the 

 North, we could see the rugged, monstrous 

 bulk of Tacoma, glistening so brightly in 

 the sunlight that it appeared close at hand. 

 These giant peaks were the only indication 

 of land anywhere in the universe, save the 

 pinnacles on which we stood. Between us 

 and them there was naught but gloom and 

 darkness. There was no lower world. Our 

 isolation was complete. 



After viewing our surroundings we trav- 

 ersed the summit from East to West and 

 then returned to the Eastern edge to test 

 our nerves by looking down the frightful 

 precipices of the East side. Cautiously 

 we. approached the verge and peered over. 

 We drew back, our senses reeling and our 

 minds appalled by the fearful grandeur of 

 trie scene. A few feet from where we stood, 

 the snow broke off abruptly, making it ex- 

 tremely hazardous to approach near the 

 edge. Down nearly a mile of almost per- 

 pendicular height, broken here and there 

 by jagged cliffs, huge masses of detached 



snow and yawning crevices, we gazed. From 

 the foot of this craggy, variegated precipice 

 the glaciers, seemingly so far away as to 

 be in another sphere, pushed their way down 

 the mountain side until lost in the terminal 

 moraines. The Little Muddy, springing 

 from these ice rivers, wound along its great 

 canyon till the smoke swallowed it from 

 sight. The view was grand, awful and ap- 

 palling. 



We turned away and, taking a position 

 facing old Tacoma, ate our lunch. Scarcely 

 had we finished when 2 Mazamas appeared, 

 their arrival being half an hour behind our 

 own. They brought the heliograph, which 

 had been left at the last rocks by a party 

 that had made the ascent some days before. 

 In a few minutes a third reached the sum- 

 mit. From these gentlemen we learned that 

 it had been decided at Mountain View camp, 

 where the Mazamas had met, to postpone the 

 general ascent until the next day, in view 

 of the unfavorable condition of the weath- 

 er. However, it- was deemed necessary for 

 the scientific party to make an attempt, as 

 the extensive arrangements previously made 

 required that each should do his share of 

 work if, possible. Besides, a number had 

 decided to try the climb on their own re- 

 sponsibility. 



It was soon observed that the smoke was 

 rising, threatening to hide what was visible 

 of the great snowclads. Soon St. Helens 

 disappeared,- leaving only Hood and Ta- 

 coma. 



Singly and in pairs, climbers continued 

 to arrive. The wind was then slight, but 

 cold, and several returned to the rocks be- 

 low the summit to eat their lunches. Sec- 

 retary White reached the top and a canvas 

 was stretched on alpenstocks to ward off 

 the breeze. Two heliographs were trained, 

 one on Hood, the other on Tacoma. Prof. 

 McClure improvised a frame for his mer- 

 curial barometer, and the stars and stripes 

 were unfurled. 



Noon came and went without a sign of 

 life from the other mountains. Suddenly 

 a flash from the summit of Mt. Hood ! 

 At last the sun-telegraph was calling to the 

 operators on Mt. Adams. Mr. White sprang 

 to his instrument and soon giant was flash- 

 ing unto giant. 



"This is Coolidge," came the message 

 from Hood. 

 "This is White," answered Adams. 

 It was plain, however, that all communi- 

 cation with Oregon's monarch must soon 

 cease, for the smoke was slowly and surely 

 swallowing the white sentinel from view. 

 The operator on Adams sent a message, 

 stating how many had already reached the 

 summit and that the main party would make 

 the ascent next day. Those on Hood could 

 not read this and after a number of flashes 

 had been exchanged, the relentless smoke 



