The sun was not yet up as they got breakfast ready, and the valley behind them and the ravine ahead were full of white mist. Only the rocky pinnacle of the Lion's Head to their right, and the cliffs of Boott Spur to the left stood up above the vapor. The coffee smelled good in the cold air, and Peanut toasted a great piece of Art's bread, and varied his breakfast by making himself scrambled eggs on toast as a special treat. They broke camp as the sun was rising, and by the time they had climbed into the floor of the ravine the shadow of the Lion's Head was beginning to climb down the cliffs of Boott Spur, and in Pinkham Notch behind them they could see the billows of white mist tossing and stirring, Lou said exactly as if a giant was sleeping underneath, and tossing his bedclothes.
"That's how Winthrop Packard, the bird expert, once described it," said Mr. Rogers.
When they reached the snow arch, the path swung to the right, and ascended a pile of debris which had come down from the cliffs above. When the path had surmounted the arch, it turned to the left, and passed under the overhanging cliffs at the top of the head wall. It was very steep and rough, and at one point was covered with snow, or, rather, snow packed into ice. Here the going was extremely treacherous, and the party moved slowly, with the utmost caution, using the staffs on every step. But they got
