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Sierra Club Bulletin. 



breastwork about a foot high. Whether he was prospect- 

 ing for gold or for a quiet grave I do not know, but I 

 used it as a protected observatory. Lying in the pit, I 

 managed, by peeping through the interstices of the stones, 

 or over its edge, protecting my face with my hands, to 

 obtain several views. Before me was a wide stretch of 

 desert, orange yellow, with dashes of ecru and long streaks 

 of gray or white. Directly in front wound the sinuous 

 defile of the Cajon Pass. To the right the enormous 

 mass of the San Bernardino Mountains bulked the hori- 

 zon, while beyond towered in solitary majesty the beau- 

 tiful peak of San Jacinto. Although the view was what 

 might be called " fitful," the prospect was magnificent 

 and inspiring. Each of us felt fully repaid for his ex- 

 ertions, and would willingly repeat them for the same 

 reward. 



Soon we were assembled, and, as the cold and wind 

 made a long stay impossible, took a hasty luncheon and 

 prepared to descend. We had sent our burros back to 

 the valley, so our downward climb was a knapsack trip. 

 We did not retrace our steps, but followed the easterly 

 ridge, descending into the canon of Lytle Creek. The 

 first mile of the descent might be called dangerous; and 

 one of weak nerves would find it really appalling. The 

 ridge is very narrow, almost a knife-edge. On one side 

 there is a sheer fall of many hundred feet; on the other 

 the descent is so abrupt that one falling could not recover 

 himself. There is no trail. All there is to do is to keep as 

 close to the edge as one dares. The edge is horizontally 

 serrated, — that is, deeply indented. Those who climbed 

 Mt. Whitney will remember the appearance of its eastern 

 side. The northerly side of San Antonio presents the 



