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Sierra Club Bulletin 



cated anything but a temperance movement. The way those ragged 

 rocks were broken, splintered, massed, and piled together, helter- 

 skelter, would have rejoiced the heart of a cubist artist. Again and 

 again I was reminded of the cubist painting in Mr. Torrey's home — 

 "The Nude Descending the Stairs." 



Slowly, very slowly, we progressed along the knife-edge, up and 

 down, around clefts and breaks, always in doubt as to what was 

 fifty feet ahead of us. Finally, at a point perhaps a quarter of a 

 mile from the summit and six hundred feet below it, we came upon 

 the deepest notch of all, the one which had been visible from both 

 north and south. It was not more than fifty feet deep, but its sides 

 were almost vertical and perfectly smooth. For a long time we 

 worked at it, carefully going down each side of the mountain until 

 at the bottom of the notch, but with no way to get onto the knife- 

 edge again beyond the cleft. The whole situation looked hopeless 

 and desperate. From our position here we could get a long, sweep- 

 ing view of the whole north face of the mountain. It was practically 

 vertical for a thousand feet down onto an extensive snow-field, and 

 we turned away for all time from any hopes on that side. 



We then surveyed the southern side of the knife-edge. It was 

 steep enough, but nothing compared to the northern side. The only 

 ray of hope lay in the possibility that if we could get down on the 

 southern slope for several hundred feet, we could then work around 

 toward the east, get more nearly under the main peak, and then by 

 chance find a favorable chimney running up toward the summit. In 

 an hour we had descended far down on this southern side. Here the 

 slope was somewhat more gentle and we were able to work around on 

 various shelves, finally coming to the largest of several chimneys 

 running up in the general direction of the summit. This chimney 

 was pretty well broken up, so that one could get finger and toe holds, 

 but in many places it was worn smooth by the avalanches of rock, 

 snow, and ice which for ages had shot through it. It lay at an angle 

 of sixty degrees, but fortunately kept leading in the desired direction. 

 The greatest care had to be exercised each instant to prevent the 

 starting of rock-avalanches. Brown was a hundred feet ahead. I 

 heard a warning shout, "Look out!" and knew something was com- 

 ing. I ducked my head behind a boulder just in time to prevent its 

 being hit by a rock the size of a football, which came tearing down. 

 The rock struck my knapsack a glancing blow and bounded off. 



