at by laying his
mittened hands in the holes above he could steady himself while he found
a fresh support for his feet, and for a while he made progress, though
the labor of carrying up his load became intense. Coming to a fang of
rock which offered a precarious seat, he stopped and wondered how he was
to get up the rest of the way. It seemed a vast distance to the top, and
he was already distressed by a form of exertion to which he was
unaccustomed. Bright sunshine rested on the jagged ridge above, but the
gully lay in shadow; and, growing cold, the man went on again. The next
few minutes passed uneventfully, except that he made a dangerous slip;
and then a stone rushed past him and he heard a sharp crash below. This
was a risk he had not counted on. Looking up anxiously, he saw some snow
coming down. There was not much of it, but it was traveling ominously
fast and he was right in its path. He dared not leave the steps to seek
the shelter of the rocks. Driving in his feet to secure a better hold; he
waited, wondering whether he would be swept away and hurled down to the
bottom with broken bones.

The sliding snow was close upon him; he saw that it was spinning and of a
flat round shape, not a ball as he had expected, and then, while he dug
in his hands and stiffened every muscle to resist the shock, he received
a heavy blow on his lowered shoulder and a wet mass was flung violently
into his face. He held on, however, and without looking around, heard the
snow rush on down the gully beneath him. After he had climbed a few
yards, it seemed possible to reach a projecting spur of rock, and when he
had carefully kicked out a hold for one foot he made the attempt. He had
scarcely reached the shelter of the rock when there was a sharp crash
above and a great stone leaped by.

Prescott found that he could maintain his position fairly comfortably and
he lighted his pipe and sat still to rest and consider, while the
downward rush of another stone gave him food for thought. He believed he
was half-way up, and after the exertions he had made, it was unthinkable
that he should go back and seek another route; besides, he doubted
whether he could get down without slipping. It seemed quite as perilous
to go on, until he reasoned from the state of the snow, which was not
deeply scored, that the stones did not come down continuously. Perhaps
the warmth of the sun, helped by a soft chinook wind that had set in had
loosened them; but th