boulders, and as
each one was scaled another appeared beyond it. At length they reached a
piled confusion of rocks, where a little cairn had been built of small
stones and loose pieces of shale.

"There we are! The very place!" shouted Donald. "I knew we'd find it if
we pegged along. Now, can you girls tackle this last bit? Wouldn't you
like to use the rope?"

The final piece of crag was slippery enough to justify Donald's offer,
and as he seemed particularly anxious not to have brought his rope in
vain, the others consented to give it a trial. With its aid the
difficult bit was accomplished fairly easily, and the three were soon
standing in triumph by the cairn, hurrahing and waving their
handkerchiefs with much excitement.

"I'm going to eat my sandwiches here; I'm fagged out," declared Gipsy,
sitting down on a stone and suddenly realizing that she was tired and
hungry.

The others followed suit, very ready for a rest and a picnic. It was a
long time since their lunch at the inn, and the frosty air had given
them keen appetites. It was too cold to sit still, however, for more
than five or ten minutes; a bitter wind had sprung up, and the snow,
which had only fallen very lightly before, began to come down in thicker
and heavier flakes.

"We'd better be going, or we shan't be able to find our way," worried
Meg anxiously.

"Right-o! only we must each add a stone to the cairn first," replied
Donald. "I've a pencil here, and we'll write our names on them as proof
conclusive that we've been, in case anybody doubts our word afterwards."

So "Gipsy Latimer", "Margaret Gordon", and "Donald Alexander Gordon"
were duly inscribed on smooth pieces of shale and placed as evidence on
the top of the pile, after which ceremony the three began their descent
with something of the feeling of Arctic explorers who had reached the
Pole.

It was indeed high time to return. Clouds were blowing up fast, and with
the thickening snow began rapidly to obscure the view. The trio went
very cautiously, trying to remember various landmarks which they had
noticed on the way up. Gipsy's idea of retracing their footsteps in the
snow soon proved futile, for already all tracks were obliterated. It was
impossible to see far in front of them, and but for the compass that
hung on Donald's watch-chain they would have had no notion of where they
were going.

"We must keep due west, and look out sharp for precipices. Don't let us
get separated on