The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1897-08-26
TWAS tough work. Hands and knees
now and carefully placed every time,

now and carefully placed every time,
at that.
Once I very nearly lost my balance
by the unexpected yielding Of q large
stone, which gave way under my foot.
How fearfully long it was before
heard it smite on the powders below!
y knew il I slipped, or missed one step,
the impetus Of yard would send me
after the stone. Az ] looked over my
shoulder. it seemed like clinging to the
slope of a cathedral roof, where puff
of wind might be fatal.
There was no question now Is to the
course I must take, It was Excelsior
in sober earnest-only ! didn't have the
inspiration of maiden, with tear in
her bright blue eye, looking on.
Sleeper and sleeper! I was painting
heavily in the rarified atmosphere, and
trembling from exhaustion. It was so
terribly lonely. Nothing but the dark
forms of the trees, the waste of ice and
snow. and now and then bird, wing
ing its way silently over the gulf, until
my brain whirled as watched its slow
fight.
By tomorrow they would miss me,
and organize search, with Fred at
their head. They would find my foot
prints beside the brook, where I had
leaped carelessly across after pansies;
then they would come upon the black
ened traces of the little fire, and the
loosened gravel of the steep bank; they
would look upward with shudder, and
search the harder. Pretty soon one of
them would lean over crevice among
the powders, shrink back with cry of
horror and beckon to the others. All
this if failed by one step!
But still worked ON laboriously,
often pausing for giddiness or want
of breath, and digging with my finger
nails little hollows in the hard bank
for my feet.
Once or twice long, tough root of
grass saved me, and very soon, to my
joy, struggling bushes, strong enough
to support few pounds of weight,
thrust their tops through the sand bed.
Then came scrubby trees, cedar and
fir, oftentimes growing straight out
from vertical face of rock, and culver
ing from root to tip as drew myself
up.
shall never forget the agony of the
moment when one of them came out
entirely, and let me fall backward. For
tunately it's comrades were near enough
to save me, though it was with rough
hands.
To shorten the story, climbed at last
out upon small, level spot, which
proved to be the longed-for path.
Following it painfully up for few
rods, I reached a little hut, where l
found kind old French woman, who
refreshed me with food and drink,
helped to make my tattered clothes
presentable and held up her hands
after the demonstrative fashion of her
nation when she heard of my climb.
Had anyone ever assembled to the
cataract upon that side p I asked.
"Jamais. monsieur; jamais, jamais!"
Never, monsieur; never, never.) -.
And could she tell me the height
from the valley? Y 4.
A thousand feet! Well, I had had
mountain climbing enough for one day.
and after visit to the Cascade, which
was close by, I hobbled down the easy
path and back to the hotel, to read
'.Redgauntlet'' until bedtime.
When Fred got back and heard the
story, his eyes were round enough, as he
declared he would not leave me behin1
again, to play invalid, until we came in
sight of the Cunard wharf in East Bos-
ton. And he kept his promise.-Golden
DAVIS,