Slide Trail branched off to the east. Here there was a spring, labeled Great Spring on the map, where they filled their canteens, and taking the left fork, the Six Husbands, began at last the real ascent of Jefferson. There was no longer any doubt about its being an ascent, either. The map showed that from the Great Spring to the crossing of the Gulf Side Trail at the summit cone of the mountain was little over a mile, but that mile, as Peanut said, was stood up on end. They plugged away for a while, toiling upward, weighted down with their packs and blankets, which had increased in weight at least fifty per cent. since morning, and then decided to eat lunch before the fuel gave out.
It was hard work chopping up fire-wood from the tough, aged, and gnarled stumps of the dwarf spruces which alone could grow on this cliff side, but they got a blaze at last, and made tea and cooked some bacon—the last they had. It was one o'clock before they were through, and Rob, seeing that Peanut was pretty tired and Art pretty sleepy, ordered a rest for an hour. They spread out their blankets and lay down, in a spot where there was the least danger of rolling off, and soon the two younger boys were fast asleep.
Rob didn't go to sleep. He watched an eagle sailing on still wings out over the Gulf, and presently, to his consternation, he saw a thin wisp of
