Cautiously, the four climbed on. A magnificent panorama was before them—of valley and rugged mountains, of dark timber and rocks, all in sunshine save where the shadow of some floating cloud dotted the landscape.
The sun was now hanging just above a high peak, and within a short time the shade would creep through the valley, the rosy glow fade from the opposite mountains and the dense forests become sombre and gloomy.
Dave Brandon thought of this, and proposed returning, but the others were anxious to reach the highest point.
"Come on, Chubby," protested Bob. "Don't talk that way until we have balanced ourselves on the peak."
"Clouds coming up again, fellows," broke in Dick. "Gee, but aren't they far below us?"
"Wish they would spread all around," said Bob.
"By jingo, it looks as if a fellow could walk on them without falling through, doesn't it, Chub?" remarked Dick.
"Yes—makes it feel safe up here. Sort of holds us in."
"Funny to be looking down upon a pile of clouds," observed Bob, reflectively.
In ten minutes, the slowly-moving clouds had again cleared almost entirely away, and the boys, as they slipped and scrambled around a huge snow-bank, came across a view which brought them to a sudden halt.