The place seemed to be a favorite camp ground for Indians, also. The valley was strewn with their horse sign, and with broken lodge-poles and old lodge-pins. The lieutenant thought that these had been Ietan or Comanche camps, and was much interested.
The next afternoon they sighted the stockade; they were almost home.
“The flag’s still flying. Thank God, the party’s all right,” exclaimed the lieutenant. “Give them a cheer, boys, when we arrive. We return disappointed, but not defeated, and far from conquered.”
The hoarse cheer was answered. The soldiers—Sergeant Meek, Corporal Jerry Jackson, Freegift Stout, Alex Roy, and all—trooped out, to stand in line and present arms as the lieutenant, leading, rode through the gate. He saluted them like an officer again, and smiled wanly as if glad to be back.
X
ONWARD INTO WINTER
“So yez didn’t climb the Grand Peak, after all,” Tom Dougherty once more queried.
“We climbed far enough. As I told you before, nothin’ on two legs or on twice two legs will ever climb that Grand Peak,” John Brown answered. “Only an eagle can fly there. We were above the clouds, with naught to eat and little to breathe; and yon was the Grand Peak itself, as high again.”
The men were wearied, but not yet wearied of hearing about the try for the Grand Peak.
“You’re right. It’s beyond the reach o’ lungs and legs,” said Sergeant Meek. “For the cap’n and the doctor measured it to-day with their instruments, from a good sight of it. Ten thousand, five hundred and eighty-one feet above ground they make it out to be, or a good two miles into the air. And allowing for the fact that we’re nigh eight thousand feet up, right where we be, though you might not think it, that peak rises more’n eighteen thousand feet above sea level. The cap’n says it’s close to being the highest mountain in the world.”[D]