Knapsacking in the Kings-San Joaquin Region 293 



on. The great shadow of the mountain warned us that we had 

 but three hours of dayhght in which to get down to timber line. 

 The packs were heavy and we were tired and the shore line of 

 Lake Italy is a long one. As one weary pilgrim put it, "That 

 lake is strung out like a piece of macaroni !" So it seemed 

 quite a time before camp was made, at 10,800 feet, in the Hil- 

 gard branch of Bear Creek. The nearby peaks were bathed in 

 the beautiful pink of the alpenglow. 



Next day we went on down Bear Creek, crossed the branch 

 on a rough log bridge about a quarter of a mile above the 

 junction, and continued on up the right bank of the East Fork. 

 Here we had to make our first ford. The water was not up to 

 our waists, but there were ice-floes near and H. H. did not like 

 the temperature. A little farther on we left our packs again 

 and chmbed Seven Gables (13,066 feet). There were a few 

 cliffs and one chimney with slide-rock, but most of the climb 

 was plain snow-plugging. So far as we know, the peak had 

 been climbed only by Messrs. Le Conte, Cory and Hutchinson 

 before us. The next day we went on to a gap ahead which we 

 christened "Hardscrabble Pass" (about 12,200 feet), then 

 made quick time over the snow down to Piute Creek in French 

 Canon. We made camp here, though we walked farther down 

 to the junction with the San Joaquin and saw the fine new 

 bridge across the creek. 



On our way up the stream the following day we saw a big 

 porcupine, and had great fun trying to get him to pose for a 

 photograph. Passing on up Piute Creek, we got a fine view of 

 Mount Humphreys (to the north) and at last reached Piute 

 Pass. We noticed that some timber extended clear to the top 

 (11,400 feet). Plunging down through the soft snow, we fol- 

 lowed the North Fork of Bishop Creek to a wooded region 

 called Bishop Park. Farther on we came to the intake for one 

 of a series of hydro-electric stations and spent some time ex- 

 amining the gate mechanism. We were then being scruti- 

 nized by the watchman, not only because of our unshaven and 

 vagabondish appearance, but for a reason which will appear 

 later. 



Following the pipe line, we soon reached Andrews' Camp, 

 where we were welcomed by the proprietor. We had been 



