Night drew near before I reached the eastern base of the mountain, and
my camp lay many a rugged mile to the north; but ultimate success was
assured. It was now only a matter of endurance and ordinary
mountain-craft. The sunset was, if possible, yet more beautiful than
that of the day before. The Mono landscape seemed to be fairly saturated
with warm, purple light. The peaks marshaled along the summit were in
shadow, but through every notch and pass streamed vivid sun-fire,
soothing and irradiating their rough, black angles, while companies of
small, luminous clouds hovered above them like very angels of light.
Darkness came on, but I found my way by the trends of the canons and the
peaks projected against the sky. All excitement died with the light, and
then I was weary. But the joyful sound of the waterfall across the lake
was heard at last, and soon the stars were seen reflected in the lake
itself. Taking my bearings from these, I discovered the little pine
thicket in which my nest was, and then I had a rest such as only a tired
mountaineer may enjoy. After lying loose and lost for awhile, I made a
sunrise fire, went down to the lake, dashed water on my head, and dipped
a cupful for tea.
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