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Steep Trails-Part6_John Muir(1838-1914)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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ramble. When I said that I was simply taking a walk, and that icy

Shasta was my mark, I was invariably admonished that I had come on a



dangerous quest. The time was far too late, the snow was too loose

and deep to climb, and I should be lost in drifts and slides. When I



hinted that new snow was beautiful and storms not so bad as they were

called, my advisers shook their heads in token of superior knowledge



and declared the ascent of "Shasta Butte" through loose snow

impossible. Nevertheless, before noon of the second of November I was



in the frosty azure of the utmostsummit.

When I arrived at Sisson's everything was quiet. The last of the



summer visitors had flitted long before, and the deer and bears also

were beginning to seek their winter homes. My barometer and the



sighing winds and filmy half-transparent clouds that dimmed the

sunshine gave notice of the approach of another storm, and I was in



haste to be off and get myself established somewhere in the midst of

it, whether the summit was to be attained or not. Sisson, who is a



mountaineer, speedily fitted my out for storm or calm as only a

mountaineer could, with warm blankets and a week's provisions so



generous in quantity and kind that they easily might have been made to

last a month in case of my being closely snowbound. Well I knew the



weariness of snow-climbing, and the frosts, and the dangers of

mountaineering so late in the year; therefore I could not ask a guide



to go with me, even had one been willing. All I wanted was to have

blankets and provisions deposited as far up in the timber as the snow



would permit a pack animal to go. There I could build a storm nest

and lie warm, and make raids up and around the mountain in accordance



with the weather.

Setting out on the afternoon of November first, with Jerome Fay,



mountaineer and guide, in charge of the animals, I was soon plodding

wearily upward through the muffled winter woods, the snow of course



growing steadily deeper and looser, so that we had to break a trail.

The animals began to get discouraged, and after night and darkness



came on they became entangled in a bed of rough lava, where, breaking

through four or five feet of mealy snow, their feet were caught



between angular boulders. Here they were in danger of being lost, but

after we had removed packs and saddles and assisted their efforts with



ropes, they all escaped to the side of a ridge about a thousand feet

below the timberline.



To go farther was out of the question, so we were compelled to camp as

best we could. A pitch pine fire speedily changed the temperature and



shed a blaze of light on the wild lava-slope and the straggling

storm-bent pines around us. Melted snow answered for coffee, and we had



plenty of venison to roast. Toward midnight I rolled myself in my

blankets, slept an hour and a half, arose and ate more venison, tied



two days' provisions to my belt, and set out for the summit, hoping to

reach it ere the coming storm should fall. Jerome accompanied me a



little distance above camp and indicated the way as well as he could

in the darkness. He seemed loath to leave me, but, being reassured



that I was at home and required no care, he bade me good-bye and

returned to camp, ready to lead his animals down the mountain at



daybreak.

After I was above the dwarf pines, it was fine practice pushing up the



broad unbroken slopes of snow, alone in the solemn silence of the

night. Half the sky was clouded; in the other half the stars sparkled



icily in the keen, frosty air; while everywhere the gloriouswealth of

snow fell away from the summit of the cone in flowing folds, more



extensive and continuous than any I had ever seen before. When day

dawned the clouds were crawling slowly and becoming more massive, but



gave no intimation of immediate danger, and I pushed on faithfully,

though holding myself well in hand, ready to return to the timber; for



it was easy to see that the storm was not far off. The mountain rises

ten thousand feet above the general level of the country, in blank



exposure to the deep upper currents of the sky, and no labyrinth of

peaks and canyons I had ever been in seemed to me so dangerous as



these immense slopes, bare against the sky.

The frost was intense, and drifting snow dust made breathing at times



rather difficult. The snow was as dry as meal, and the finer




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