The sergeant looked up the steps, pulled at the lariat, and commented:
"Only one man can go at a time; if there are Indians up there, an old
squaw can kill this command with a hatchet; and if there are no Indians,
we can all go up."

The impatient officer started up, but the sergeant grabbed him by the
belt. He turned, saying, "If I haven't got men to go, I will climb
myself."

"Stop, lieutenant. It wouldn't look right for the officer to go. I have
noticed a pine-tree, the branches of which spread over the top of the
rock," and the sergeant pointed to it. "If you will make the men cover
the top of the rim-rock with their rifles, Bordeson and I will go up;"
and turning to the Swede, "Will you go, Otto?"

"I will go anywhere the sergeant does," came his gallant reply.

"Take your choice, then, of the steps or the pine-tree," continued the
Virginian; and after a rather short but sharp calculation the Swede
declared for the tree, although both were death if the Indians were on
the rim-rock. He immediately began sidling along the rock to the tree,
and slowly commenced the ascent. The sergeant took a few steps up the
cutting, holding on by the rope. The officer stood out and smiled
quizzically. Jeers came from behind the soldiers' bushes--"Go it, Otto!
Go it, Johnson! Your feet are loaded! If a snow-bird flies, you will
drop dead! Do you need any help? You'd make a hell of a sailor!" and
other gibes.

The gray clouds stretched away monotonously over the waste of snow, and
it was cold. The two men climbed slowly, anon stopping to look at each