Said the proprietor, "If you will wait here till to-morrow, there'll be five hundred cattle cross the pass and break the trail for you."
"I go to-night," said I, "and will break the trail for the cattle."
I thanked both men for their kind caution, but said such impediments had stared me in the face ever since leaving New York, and never yet one of them proved to be an obstacle. As we moved off, the men stood in the hotel door, gaping in mute wonderment at my stubborn resolution.
Darkness gathered ere we began the ascent of the mountain. Slowly the donkeys climbed the slippery trail, Coonskin, upon my advice, walking beside Cheese and watching him with utmost concern. The snow scudded against our faces, although the mountain somewhat shielded us from the biting gale we had faced all day. The three stronger animals carrying the packs walked ahead, while close behind them struggled Cheese and Mac, supporting our saddles and lighter traps, we men encouraging them the while with kind words and allowing them a few moments' rest every time they stopped.
Soon I feared lest Cheese would give out. At length, when about one-third the summit was climbed, he stopped and deliberately lay down. I knew that meant his abandonment, then and there. We might induce him to climb a little further, but we might better free him at once; he would likely find his way back to the station. So we took off his saddle and bridle, cinched them on Mac, and, saying a sad farewell, hid our faces in our sleeves, and soon had climbed beyond his vision. It was no time to indulge in sentiment. Once or twice Mac, Cheese's oldest comrade, stopped and looked behind, then with a soft bray resumed the ascent; and from the distance at once came Cheese's response, causing my eyes to fill with tears. No two human beings could have shown more tender feelings at parting than did those two heroic little donks.
Finally we came to the abandoned wagon, half enveloped in whiteness. I had no idea of the hour, but it must have been eleven o'clock when my sturdy leader, Skates, began to stop for rest at every twenty paces.
An hour later we could make only ten feet headway with every undertaking. I was afraid another donkey would drop at any moment. Several times I thought we had reached the summit, when a turn of the Z trail showed a clear space, with Skates far in the lead, ploughing and dragging her burden through two feet of snow.
Suddenly, when we had all but reached the summit, as we after learned, Damfino fell with a groan. She was so strong and hardy, I had not anticipated her giving out. Coonskin thought she had slipped and broken a leg. We took off part of her pack, and at length succeeded in getting her on to her feet; but not far beyond she again fell, when, realizing it was from fatigue, we left her, with all the supplies on. We had no way to carry them, and I still had hopes of her resting out and trailing over after us.
It was now a question of life and death. Could I but get Mac A'Rony through, even by leaving all else behind, I should do so and fight to the bitter end. Mac was certainly a wonder. After thirty-eight hundred miles of travel, during a period of three hundred and thirty-odd days, he was chipper and nabbed at me mischievously as I kindly twisted his tail.
Eureka! At last we stood on the summit of that high Arctic pass of the snow-bound Sierras! Man and beast were ensconced in snow and ice, and my ears and face and hands and feet were numb; but I was too happy to feel any suffering. Could Cheese and Damfino have been with us then, I should have been jubilant.