up from "The Land of Little Rain." 107 



in the foot of the sleeping-bag, placed there to protect 

 the feet against frostbite. He calmly informed me that he 

 had his feet on it all right. Shades of Jack Frost ! Feet 

 on top like ^Mike who took the pill box instead of the pills. 

 I instructed him concerning the hole in the pillow. 



"The shadow of a rock in a weary land" — such is our 

 shelter to-night under the lustrous stars. I have the shovel 

 ready for coyote or bear, and all the pantry near at hand 

 except the frying-pan and the can of tomatoes. They can 

 eat only the label of the can. We shall save the substance. 



Friday Morning, March 3. 



I lay awake last night. The sleeping-bag was too 

 warm for the temperature of 35° F. which prevailed. I 

 planned a weather observ^atory for the summit of Mount 

 Whitney with monthly post and stations of refuge for 

 the courier in case of storm. In summer these stations 

 could be used by stout or easy travelers who desired to 

 make a pilgrimage to the top of the United States. The 

 observer could keep the snow out of the trail to timber 

 line for exercise, if necessary. 



We have eagerly discussed our route this morning. 

 We are camped at the junction of two immense gashes 

 in the mountain. The one on the right leads by cyclopean 

 terraces directly to the base of Mount Whitney and leaves 

 the traveler gazing impotently up a face of rock which 

 rises sheer four thousand feet above his head. The apex 

 of Whitney with its outlying saw teeth can be seen up 

 the gash and remind one of the dome and towers of 

 Saint Peter's whose front could more easily be scaled 

 than could this. The other gash, the continuation of 

 Lone Pine Canon, turns the flank of Whitney by afford- 

 ing the opportunity of scaling the range to the south 

 of the saw teeth and gaining the summit of Whitney 

 from the rear. At the junction of the two cafions stands 

 a majestic crag, the peer of any in the range. 



Our work to-day is to surmount Lone Pine Falls, now 

 practically dry through the freezing of the mountain 



