All the Scouts went outside, leaving the couple alone within. As soon as they got free of the lee side of the shelter, the gale hit them full force, the cloud condensing on their blankets, which they had hard work to keep wrapped about them. But the sight well repaid the effort. The wind was playing a mad game with the vapors on the whole north side of the range. The great cloud mass below them was thinner than it had been. They could see for several hundred feet along the bare or snow-and-ice capped rocks, which looked wild and desolate beyond description. Farther away, where the rocks were swallowed up in the mists, was a seething caldron of clouds, driven in wreaths and spirals by the wind. Suddenly a lane would open between them, and the rocks would be exposed far down the mountain. As suddenly the lane would close up again. Then it would once more open, perhaps so wide and far that a glimpse of green valley far below would come for a second into view. Once the top of Mount Dartmouth was visible for a full minute. Still later, looking northeast, the great northern shoulder of Mount Clay appeared.
"The clouds are not far down on the north side of the range, that's a fact," said Mr. Rogers. "With this north wind still blowing we may get it clear enough to tackle the peak yet. But we don't want to stand out here in the cold too long."
