ke North to South travel difficult, though one can
follow one side of the openly forested canyons to the very crest of the
main ridge.

Here and there was a grove of Big Trees, varying in size from the Giant
Forest of Sequoia National Park to the few mediocre specimens at Dinkey
Creek. But as a rule the hot, irrigated valleys of the Sacramento and San
Joaquin gave way to patches of the small oaks and pines of the foothills,
and these in turn, several thousand feet higher up the Western slopes, to
yellow pine and incense cedar, Sequoias and giant sugar pines. Higher
still came the silver fir belt, and after that, the twisted Tamaracks and
dwarfed and storm-tossed mountain pines, reaching often in at least a
decorative fringe along the rock cracks to the very peaks, all the way up
to 12,000 feet. (Tree line in the White Mountains of New Hampshire comes
soon after 5,000.) Above that, of course, only snow and ice could clothe
the slopes.

Hell-for-Sure Pass was one name that attracted Ace's eye on the map. He
judged that it must mean stiff going,--but even had they actually planned
to climb that way, he would have preferred to wait and discover for
himself the reason for its nomenclature. There was also Deadman Pass,
(another name to tickle the imagination), Electra Peak, Thousand Island
Lake, The Devil's Post Pile, Volcanic Ridge, Crater Creek, Stairway
Creek, Fawn Meadow,--and dangerously near, Bear Meadow,--Vermilion
Cliffs, Piute Pass, Disappearing Creek, Lost Canyon, Table Mountain,
(reminiscent of the Bret Harte days), Deadman Canyon, (flavoring more
strongly of the gold days of '49), and Rattlesnake Creek, (doubtless
deserving the title.)--To say nothing of such ordinary features as 13,500
foot University Peak, (a mere wave of the sea of peaks surrounding
champions Lyell and Whitney), Diamond Peak, 13,000 feet, Mt. Baxter,
likewise around 13,000, Mt. Pinchot, and a score of others (occurring at
short intervals in a solid phalanx). Whoever wants to climb a mountain
everybody climbs, seemed to be the final verdict of the party. There are
other peaks almost as high as Whitney, (certainly quite high enough to
suit the most fastidious sportsman), and probably even more difficult of
ascent. Why not discover something new under the sun? In other words, why
not strike off at random into the Unexplored? They would head right into
the thick of the thickest green patch on the map, and wander as fancy
dictated. If they felt lik