“But can’t we go back the way we’ve come?” he said.
Mr. Rogers pointed back over the ridge. A cloud was rolling up and over it from the pit of Oakes Gulf.
“You’d lose that path, too,” he said. “You stick with us, and if we can’t make the summit before the storm breaks, we’ll ride her out in the Shelter Hut. Come, I’m captain, now. Forward, march!”
As the party emerged from the slight shelter of Monroe, upon the great, bare stretch of rising plateau which forms the col between Monroe and the summit cone, they could with difficulty stand up at first against the gale which hit them. The clouds were apparently doing a kind of devil’s dance around Washington. Behind them other clouds had sucked up the Notch, and then up Oakes Gulf, and were pouring over the southern peaks behind like a gigantic wave, beaten back into breakers by the wind. Here on this plateau they were for the time being in a kind of vortex between two cloud masses. They hurried as fast as they could, Mr. Rogers and Art leading.
All the party were rather pale, especially the girl. Rob was walking beside her, and helping her fight the great wind. Their breath was short, in this altitude, and hurrying was hard work. Moreover, the wind came in mighty, sudden gusts, which almost knocked the breath out of them and frequently made them stop and brace.
They had not gone a quarter of a mile when the clouds that came down Washington and those which streamed in from Oakes Gulf closed together, and the last of the party, who chanced to be Lou, suddenly found that he couldn’t see anything, nor anybody.
His heart gave a great jump in his breast, and he let out a terrified cry, which was almost lost in the howl of the wind.
“Come on up!” he heard faintly. A second later, and he saw the forms of Peanut and Frank emerge from the mist ahead of him. The whole party now gathered close in behind Mr. Rogers, keeping only two feet apart, almost treading on each other’s heels. The Scout Master stopped a second.
“Everybody watch for the cairns,” he shouted, “and keep close together. Art and I have our compasses. Now, keep cool. We are only a short way from the hut. We’ll go in there till the worst is over.”
Then he moved on, slowly, making sure of the path. The wind was rising. The cloud that packed them close as cotton batting condensed on their clothes in fine drops. Suddenly Peanut, who was blowing on his chilled hands, noticed that the drops were beginning to freeze! The rocks of the path were getting slippery, too. The girl had stumbled once, and strained her ankle. She was paler than ever.