that I was at home and required no care, he bade me good-bye and
returned to camp, ready to lead his animals down the mountain at
daybreak.

After I was above the dwarf pines, it was fine practice pushing up the
broad unbroken slopes of snow, alone in the solemn silence of the
night. Half the sky was clouded; in the other half the stars sparkled
icily in the keen, frosty air; while everywhere the glorious wealth of
snow fell away from the summit of the cone in flowing folds, more
extensive and continuous than any I had ever seen before. When day
dawned the clouds were crawling slowly and becoming more massive, but
gave no intimation of immediate danger, and I pushed on faithfully,
though holding myself well in hand, ready to return to the timber; for
it was easy to see that the storm was not far off. The mountain rises
ten thousand feet above the general level of the country, in blank
exposure to the deep upper currents of the sky, and no labyrinth of
peaks and canyons I had ever been in seemed to me so dangerous as
these immense slopes, bare against the sky.

The frost was intense, and drifting snow dust made breathing at times
rather difficult. The snow was as dry as meal, and the finer
particles drifted freely, rising high in the air, while the larger
portions of the crystals rolled like sand. I frequently sank to my
armpits between buried blocks of loose lava, but generally only to my
knees. When tired with walking I still wallowed slowly upward on all
fours. The steepness of the slope--thirty-five degrees in some
places--made any kind of progress fatiguing, while small avalanches
were being constantly set in motion in the steepest places. But the
bracing air and the sublime beauty of the snowy expanse thrilled every
nerve and made absolute exhaustion impossible. I seemed to be walking