Just beyond the lake and camp all trees ceased, and around about were snow patches. The sun sank, behind the dark ridges; an icy breeze sprang up, soughing through the few pines, mingling its song with the weird chant of a waterfall emptying into the lake below.
The lieutenant was suddenly stricken with a violent attack of headache and stomach-sickness. They decided that this was due to climbing up and down among the rocks, and to the lack of food and warmth. The breeze blew away the heat of the fires, the moon arose and seemed to make things colder, the granite rock was hard and chill, they had nothing to eat and no coverings; and altogether it was an uncomfortable camp.
Nobody complained, of course. They were men, and explorers. Kit Carson said that he had been in worse places, and afterwards had been in better places, and that he expected to be in better places again! This was a cheering thought.
Oliver curled in the lee of a fire, so that a little of the heat might blow across him, and occasionally he dozed. Whenever he awakened, he saw the grim, whitish line of pinnacles, cold and still in the moonlight, as if watching and waiting for their next efforts.
Early in the morning, “not being delayed by any breakfast,” as remarked Lieutenant Frémont (who was better), they set out again.
Now the enchanter guarding the magic pinnacles doubled his spells against them. Steeper were the ridges, sharper were the precipices, more loudly roared the waters, ice and snow were strewn underfoot. Mr. Preuss slipped and slid head over heels down an ice-field into the bristling rocks at the bottom. But he was only bruised. Clément Lambert and Joseph Descoteaux were taken ill and must lie down in their tracks. Lieutenant Frémont also was taken ill, again, in head and stomach; and halting sent his barometer on to Mr. Preuss the plucky German, who was ahead. Mr. Preuss must proceed to the high peak and see what the barometer said when there. But Mr. Preuss found himself cut off from the peak by a precipice or canyon. Kit Carson, trying to reach Mr. Preuss and help him, discovered a trail to the main divide, and climbing a knob or butte saw the high peak, which they had been calling the “Snow Peak,” still a thousand feet above him!
So back he came, and they all went into council. Lieutenant Frémont seemed to be growing worse; Clément Lambert and Joseph Descoteaux were very weak; but nobody was ready to quit. Instead, Basil Lajeunesse with a party of four was despatched back to the Mule Camp, to bring up mules and provisions and blankets. How the mules would get through none might say; but they would, for mules always did. Wherever a man could go, a mule could go.
“Hadn’t you better go along back, too, boy?” asked Kit Carson, of Oliver; and Oliver shook his head.
“I’m all right; I’d rather stay,” he said, trying not to let his teeth chatter.