CHAPTER XIII--In Avalanche Basin, Where Bob Learns that the Storyof the Englishman's Walk Before Breakfast Was No Joke

  When Mills arrived after breakfast, he reported that the party was tospend the day going down the lake in a motor launch to the office of thesuperintendent of the Park, on the west shore, near the lower end, wherethey were to have dinner.

  "That means a holiday for you, Joe," the Ranger said. "They'll spend thenight here at the hotel again. But you'll get paid just the same. You'reyour own boss to-day."

  When the launch had left, Joe began the day by visiting the barber shopand getting his hair cut, for he had not been near a barber since heleft Southmead. Then he made himself two or three sandwiches for alunch, put them in his pocket, and set off back up the trail through thecedar forest. He had never been in such a wood before, a real piece ofthe primeval forest, where no axe had ever been, except to clear thetrail, where the trees had fought for existence in such dense standsthat they had to shoot up straight and high for sun, without any lowerbranches whatever, and where so many had died in the struggle that theirtrunks lay, right and left, blocking every passage. It had always beenJoe's ambition to become a forester, and this wood and these trails overthe Rocky Mountains had more than ever made him sure that was the jobfor him. So now he headed up into the timber, intent on a long day'sstudy of the trees, the way they grew, the effects of soil and water andwinter storms.

  It was a wonderful day he had, too, though he got only about four milesback up the range from the lake. The only part he did not like was beingalone.

  "If only old Spider was here!" he kept thinking. "Golly, how he'd lovethese woods!"

  He ate his lunch on a point of rock above the forest, where he couldsee, down over the tops, all the twelve green, dancing miles of LakeMcDonald. He made a list of all the kinds of trees he knew (for he gotup above the cedars), and looked carefully at the kinds he did not know,so he could ask Mills about them. He picked forty-six kinds of wildflowers, without half hunting, watched the different birds, especiallythe Clark's crows (a black and white bird, a little smaller than acrow), and just lazily enjoyed himself.

  Not a very exciting day, you say? But wait till you get out in the RockyMountains. You'll find, after you've ridden the high trails for a while,and seen the tremendous precipices, and met up with a bear or two, andotherwise had a lively time, you will suddenly want to loaf for onewhole day, too, and not put your foot into a stirrup or do much ofanything but lie around in the lovely woods or upland meadows, and donothing. It's great to loaf once in a while--not too often, nor toolong.

  But Joe had one little adventure before he got back. He had sat down atthe edge of an open glade in the woods, to put a new film roll in hiscamera, when he suddenly saw a big buck deer and two does come out ofthe woods across the clearing. They did not see him for a full minute,and stood feeding, quite unconsciously. Then he either made some soundor they spied him, for the buck reared his head, stamped, and all threelooked at him with great, startled brown eyes.

  Joe was working with nervous haste to get that precious film roll inbefore they ran away. He didn't dare move more than his fingers andhands, and it was hard work; but he got it in at last, and turned it toposition. But as he raised the camera to sight it, they finally tookfright and bolted for the woods. Joe pressed the bulb, and got a pictureof their three white tails disappearing, but, alas! he didn't get theirfaces. It was the nearest he had ever come to photographing a wild deerat close range, and he was mad enough that they had come just when hewas filling his camera, and was not ready for them.

  That night Mills looked at the sky, sniffed the wind, and announced rainbefore two days.

  "We'll beat it with an early start," he said "Everybody ready atseven-thirty. Where are you going to bunk, Joe?"

  He had been told about the bear, Joe saw.

  "I'm going to bunk where I did last night," Joe answered.

  "In the hammock?"

  "No, in the cedars."

  "Good-night, nurse!" said Bob. "No more Big Ben for mine."

  "Are you really?" Lucy asked. "Aren't you foolish?"

  "Maybe," said Joe, "though it was probably a tame bear. But if I don't,Mr. Mills will guy me all summer. I'll stay there this time, if he eatsme alive!"

  "That's the right spirit," said Lucy. "If I were a boy, I'd stay withyou!"

  "I bet you would!" Joe exclaimed. "Anybody who says girls are quittershas got the wrong dope."

  So he went back alone to the little camp in the woods, and though it wasdark and ghostly and every cracking twig gave him a jump, he built uphis fire and lay down to sleep. He did not sleep for a long time, for hecould not make himself stop listening to noises, but finally he dozedoff, and when he finally woke it was daylight.

  "You poor simp!" he told himself. "Nothing has happened. Afraid of atame bear, who's probably twice as afraid of you! Glad old Spider wasn'there to see!"

  He fried himself some bacon, and hurried back to the stables, to helppack the horses for the trip.

  "And now where is it?" the men demanded, as they all mounted.

  "Depends on the weather," Mills said. "If it holds off rain, I want tocamp to-night in Avalanche Basin, and maybe show you a goat or two. Ifit comes on to rain, we'll make for Granite Park chalet, on SwiftCurrent Pass."

  "I see--going around the circle, and back to Many Glacier over SwiftCurrent," said Mr. Elkins, who had been studying a map. "Well, let'shope it doesn't rain. I don't see any signs now."

  "I smell it," Mills said.

  This day, with restocked provisions and well rested horses, they headednorth, on the west side of the Divide, past the head of the lake, and upMcDonald Creek, a rushing, turbulent little river which comes pouringdown the heavily wooded canyon between the Lewis Range, which is therange that makes the Continental Divide, and the Livingston Range justto the west. It was a pretty ride, up the side of the stream, but thetrees were so thick and tall that they could catch only occasionalglimpses of the mountain walls on either side of the canyon.

  After five miles or more, Mills halted, by the side of a smaller streamwhich came in from the east, and took a look at the sky and the peak ofa mountain visible in a gap of the trees.

  "I guess we can risk it," he said, and turned eastward up the bank. Thisside trail climbed much more steeply, and led them after a couple ofmiles into a box canyon, like a deep rock ditch, with just the stream andthe trail at the bottom, and then into one of the wildest spots you canimagine--a marvelous bowl, almost entirely closed in except for the gapwhere they had climbed, with a green glacier lake at the bottom, andsteeply sloping sides which went up from the shore of the lake for overfive thousand feet--Cannon Mountain to the north, Brown to the south,and at the eastern end, high over their heads, the great white field ofSperry Glacier, pouring down its silver ribbons of waterfalls.

  They reached this lovely wild spot, called Avalanche Basin because whenthe snows come in winter the sides are so steep that avalanches keeppouring down, before noon, and at once made camp, while Joe set aboutthe lunch.

  After lunch, Bob said, "Well, Mr. Mills, bring on your goat."

  Mills didn't answer, but lifted his head, and scanned the cliffs.

  "All right," he finally said, "there are two."

  And he pointed upward.

  Everybody followed his finger, to a red cliff, across the lake and farup the steep mountain wall.

  "I don't see anything but some spots of snow," Bob said.

  "Wait--wait--one of the spots is moving!" Lucy cried. "Is that really agoat? My goodness, how does he stick on? Why, it's straight up anddown!"

  "That don't trouble a goat," said the Ranger.

  The two specks of snow were certainly moving. The whole party watchedtill their necks ached, but the goats had either seen them or were notbound for the lower reaches, anyhow, for they did not come down.Instead, they walked along the cliff wall, and presently disappearedaround a headland.

  "Why, they're just like flies!" one
of the congressmen exclaimed. "Isuppose they were on a ledge. How wide do you reckon it was?"

  "Might have been two feet, might have been six inches," Mills answered."I've seen sheep and goats go around a ledge on a sheer precipice thatwasn't over four inches wide, and stop to scratch themselves on theway!"

  "I'm going to climb up there and see how steep that place is!" Bobcried.

  "Hooray! Us, too," said Alice and Lucy. "Come on, Joe."

  Mills was smiling, and Joe thought once more of the story of theEnglishman. He told the story now, and Mills smiled again.

  "Is it that far, Mr. Mills--now, honestly?" the girls asked.

  "Go ahead and try it," the Ranger said, still smiling. "I'll come along,like Joe's friend."

  The five of them started out, worked around the head of the lake, andbegan at once to climb the long, steep, rough shale pile at the foot ofthe first cliff. Above this first cliff was another slope, before thecliff began on which they had seen the goats. It was hard going, withthick patches of timber-line scrub spruces which held you like iron andtore like barbed wire, and sharp, irregular rocks of all sizes, andslopes of loose, small stones that gave way underfoot, and even patchesof snow. They toiled on, Mills in the rear this time, still smiling,until at last they reached the foot of the first cliff, and looked fardown at the lake and their tents. They could see the people there, thehorses, even Joe's fire pit and a tin kettle.

  "Why, I could almost throw a stone down on 'em," said Bob, "yet I feelas if we'd come a long way."

  He looked at his watch.

  "Gee whiz, we've been gone 'most two hours already!" he cried. Then helooked up at the cliff above, which was almost perpendicular. The girlslooked at it, too. Joe looked at it, and longed for Spider and a rope totackle it. But he did not see how any one could safely climb it withouta rope. Mills looked at the four of them--and still smiled.

  "Well," he said, finally, "going on?"

  "You win," Bob admitted reluctantly. "We're the goats."

  "No, the trouble is, we're not!" laughed Lucy. "If we were, we couldkeep on."

  So they started back, sliding down a snow-field by sitting down and"letting her go"--which was rapid, but very damp.

  "The goats win," said Bob, as they reached camp almost three hourslater.

  "And yet we could see you all the way," his father said "Now I realizewhat Rocky Mountain air is."

  That night they had a big camp-fire, and a sing--all the songs every oneknew, with Val playing on a harmonica he fished sheepishly out of hissaddle-bag. Then they all "turned in" early, to be ready for a long tripthe next day.