As higher we climbed the steep ascent, the air became more damp and chilly, and the heavy clouds looked more ominous. We men were afoot, for my donkeys were burdened enough. Mac A'Rony and Cheese were favored, merely carrying the saddles and guns, for Cheese seemed to be quite worn out, and Mac, while sound and strong, was the one, if it be decreed that only one should survive, I wished to take through. The donkeys often stopped for breathing spells, and not until we neared the summit did they require urging to make the fatiguing climb.
By this time we were over our ankles in snow. The biting wind came down over the pass in aggressive sorties and volleyed blasts of cutting snow dust in our faces, nipping our ears and noses, and blinding us. By reason of the fast-falling flakes and the darkness, the donkeys often lost the trail, and the snow obscured the rocks over which we all continually stumbled and slipped.
At length, when we stood on the summit and looked back over that battle-ground, I think all of us took courage for the final conflict awaiting us on the next and higher pass.
We arrived at Glenbrook at eight o'clock and found cozy quarters for all. The storm having driven everybody indoors, the place looked coldly uncordial for a time; but as soon as its warm-hearted people were apprised of my arrival they hastened to welcome me. When provision had been made for the comfort of my animals, I returned with Coonskin to the hotel, where a hot supper had thoughtfully been provided for us. And there we recounted our adventures, which evidently afforded our auditors the keenest enjoyment.
Morning revealed a dreary prospect. The snow was a foot deep, and it was still falling thick and fast. My friends urged me to tarry until the storm had abated, but I set out, after an early breakfast, for Myer's Station, twenty miles away. There I hoped to find feed for us all, and, should the storm be over by that time, comfortable shelter for the night.
The trail followed the shore of beautiful Lake Tahoe—never more severely grand and picturesque than now—followed it many miles before it led into the majestic, white-clad forest. The snow fell incessantly, while the rays of the sun, peeping through its cold armor, either melted it into slush or softened it so as to "ball up" the donkeys' hoofs and render their tramp more difficult.
When we reached Myer's Station it was snowing harder than in the morning, so I resolved to rest an hour and to cross the pass that night. The solitary tavern first came into view through the dense snow-screen, not a hundred feet away. It was four o'clock. Then a barn loomed up beyond and across the trail, and I felt grateful. I had great confidence in Skates, Damfino and Coxey; Coonskin and I had ridden but a little that day, so that, if Mac A'Rony and Cheese could fortify themselves with plenty of grain, I had hopes of getting all five over the summit.
Alas! my hopes were soon shattered. There was neither grain nor hay to be had. The landlord explained that he didn't keep "no cattle." Even the pantry was depleted, but my host would find a bite for us men, and "boil" us some tea, which would have to suffice until the expected supplies arrived. They might be delayed by the storm until morning. Meanwhile we shouldn't starve. I didn't intend my animals should starve, either, but bought several loaves of bread and fed it to them.
"Don't think I am going to stay here over night," I said to the tavern-keeper.
"You don't mean to cross the summit in this storm!"