Colby Pass and the Black Kaweah 



121 



long search, a way through was found, but there was one terribly bad 

 place where a trail must be constructed. We then went up into the 

 Whaleback Basin. The route first followed up a rather narrow 

 canon near the stream, then crossed to the north side, went over some 

 projecting buttresses, and afterward, descending, crossed through 

 some willows to the south side. Here the walls recede and the coun- 

 try opens into a large-sized basin with a fair meadow. There are no 

 trees except on the north and northeast sides of the basin. We ex- 

 plored for a possible camping-place, and located one, tentatively, on 

 a glacial shelf about 200 feet above the meadow, on the north end 

 of the basin, beside a stream which comes down from the north. We 

 then returned hurriedly to the bad place in the trail. It certainly 

 was bad. After working at it for a couple of hours, I asked Brown 

 if he would get the animals through, to which he made one of his 

 favorite and characteristic replies: "There ain't nothin' holdin' me 

 back, is there?" Just below this place a large dead tree blocked the 

 only possible route, and this would have to be cut out on the follow- 

 ing morning. Upon reaching camp and reporting progress, there 

 was much rejoicing, for all knew that if a camp was established in 

 the Whaleback Basin we could readily explore every saddle, crack, 

 and notch in the ridge for a way across. 



The bad place referred to was like a zigzag stairway, very steep 

 indeed, and up a rocky chute, or chimney. At first there was a 

 straight stretch upward about thirty feet, close beside a rocky wall ; 

 then an abrupt turn back for fifteen feet up to a little ledge; then 

 another abrupt turn of twenty feet, with a final jump-up of three 

 feet over a slippery rock. The turns were so short that the animals 

 could barely make them, and extreme care had to be exercised to 

 prevent their stepping off into space. The packs were not heavy, for 

 at least half of our outfit had been left at our permanent camp. 

 McKee and Brown were supervising the ascent and asked me to 

 make a try-out with one of our best mules, a spirited animal. Taking 

 the lead-chain, I started up the stairs. The pack was not wide, but 

 halfway up the first stretch it struck the rock-wall ; the mule lost his 

 balance and started over backward. I braced myself for the shock, 

 but was jerked completely off my feet. The poor mule landed on 

 top of his pack in the rocks at the foot of the stairs. We removed the 

 pack and tried again with only the saddle on, McKee taking his 

 turn at leading, but the animal had lost his nerve and in a moment 



