had we
fallen, a miracle only might have saved us from being dashed. This led
to rather deeper steps, and greater care that our burdens should be
held more nearly over the centre of gravity, and a pleasant relief when
we got to the top of the snow and sat down on a block of granite to
breathe and look up in search of a way up the thousand-foot cliff of
broken surface, among the lines of fracture and the galleries winding
along the face.

It would have disheartened us to gaze up the hard sheer front of
precipices, and search among splintered projections, crevices, shelves,
and snow patches for an inviting route, had we not been animated by a
faith that the mountains could not defy us.

Choosing what looked like the least impossible way, we started; but,
finding it unsafe to work with packs on, resumed the yesterday's
plan,--Cotter taking the lead, climbing about fifty feet ahead, and
hoisting up the knapsacks and barometer as I tied them to the end of the
lasso. Constantly closing up in hopeless difficulty before us, the way
opened again and again to our gymnastics, till we stood together on a
mere shelf, not more than two feet wide, which led diagonally up the
smooth cliff. Edging along in careful steps, our backs flattened upon
the granite, we moved slowly to a broad platform, where we stopped for
breath.

There was no foothold above us. Looking down over the course we had
come, it seemed, and I really believe it was, an impossible descent for
one can climb upward with safety where he cannot downward. To turn back
was to give up in defeat; and, we sat at least half an hour, suggesting
all possible routes to the summit, accepting none, and feeling
disheartened. About thirty feet directly over our heads was another
shelf, which, if we could reach, seemed to offer at least a temporary
way upward. On its edge were two or three spikes of granite; whether
firmly connected with the cliff, or merely blocks of debris, we could
not tell from below. I said to Cotter, I thought of but one possible
plan: it was to lasso one of these blocks, and to climb, sailor-fashion,
hand over hand, up the rope. In the lasso I had perfect confidence, for
I had seen more than one Spanish bull throw his whole weight against it
without parting a strand. The shelf was so narrow that throwing the coil
of rope was a very difficult undertaking. I tried three times, and
Cotter spent five minutes vainly whirling the loop up at the granite
spikes. At