d or
flower.

Huge Solidor, bare and bleak, rose grandly to the north, propping the
high-piled shining clouds, and the somber, dust-covered fields of snow
showed to what far height his proud summit soared above his fellows.
Little streams of icy water trickled through close-knit, velvety sward
whereon small flowers, white and gold and lilac, showed like fairy
footprints. Down from the pass a chill wind, delicious and invigorating,
rushed as palpably as if it were a liquid wave. In all this upper region
no shelter offered to the tired man.

A few minutes later, as he rounded the sloping green bastion which
flanks the peak to the south, the man's keen eyes lighted upon a small
cabin which squatted almost unnoticeably against a gray ledge some five
hundred feet higher than the rock whereon he stood. The door of this hut
was open and the figure of a man, dwarfed by distance, could be detected
intently watching the pedestrian on the trail. Unlike most
cabin-dwellers, he made no sign of greeting, uttered no shout of cheer;
on the contrary, as the stranger approached he disappeared within his
den like a marmot.

There was something appealing in the slow mounting of the man on foot.
He was both tired and breathless, and as he neared the cabin (which was
built on ground quite twelve thousand feet above sea-level) his limbs
dragged, and every step he made required his utmost will. Twice he
stopped to recover his strength and to ease the beating of his heart,
and as he waited thus the last time the lone cabin-dweller appeared in
his door and silently gazed, confronting his visitor with a strangely
inhospitable and prolonged scrutiny. It was as if he were a lonely
animal, jealous of his ground and resentful even of the most casual
human inspection.

The stranger, advancing near, spoke. "Is this the trail to Silver
Plume?" he asked, his heaving breast making his speech broken.

"It is," replied the miner, whose thin face and hawk-like eyes betrayed
the hermit and the man on guard.

"How far is it across the pass?"

"About thirty miles."

"A good night's walk. Are there any camps above here?"

"None."

"How far is it to the next cabin?"

"Some twelve miles."

The miner, still studying the stranger with piercing intensity,
expressed a desire to be reassured. "What are you doing up here on this
trail? Are you a mining expert? A spy?" he seemed to ask.

The traveler, divining his curiosity, explained. "I stayed last ni