s, made a bold effort to reach the top by climbing
barefooted up the grand curve with a rope which they fastened at
irregular intervals by means of eye-bolts driven into joints of the
rock. But finding that the upper part would require laborious drilling,
they abandoned the attempt, glad to escape from the dangerous position
they had reached, some 300 feet above the Saddle. Anderson began with
Conway's old rope, which had been left in place, and resolutely drilled
his way to the top, inserting eye-bolts five to six feet apart, and
making his rope fast to each in succession, resting his feet on the
last bolt while he drilled a hole for the next above. Occasionally some
irregularity in the curve, or slight foothold, would enable him to climb
a few feet without a rope, which he would pass and begin drilling again,
and thus the whole work was accomplished in a few days. From this
slender beginning he proposed to construct a substantial stairway which
he hoped to complete in time for the next year's travel, but while busy
getting out timber for his stairway and dreaming of the wealth he hoped
to gain from tolls, he was taken sick and died all alone in his little
cabin.

On the 10th of November, after returning from a visit to Mount Shasta, a
month or two after Anderson had gained the summit, I made haste to the
Dome, not only for the pleasure of climbing, but to see what I might
learn. The first winter storm-clouds had blossomed and the mountains and
all the high points about the Valley were mantled in fresh snow. I was,
therefore, a little apprehensive of danger from the slipperiness of the
rope and the rock. Anderson himself tried to prevent me from making
the attempt, refusing to believe that any one could climb his rope in
the now-muffled condition in which it then was. Moreover, the sky was
overcast and solemn snow-clouds began to curl around the summit, and
my late experiences on icy Shasta came to mind. But reflecting that I
had matches in my pocket, and that a little firewood might be found, I
concluded that in case of a storm the night could be spent on the Dome
without suffering anything worth minding, no matter what the clouds
might bring forth. I therefore pushed on and gained the top.

It was one of those brooding, changeful days that come between Indian
summer and winter, when the leaf colors have grown dim and the clouds
come and go among the cliffs like living creatures looking for work: now
hovering aloft,