long, we determined that it was time for our second breakfast, to which we sat down, wondering whether there had ever been a first. A short rest, and we found ourselves with our stock of water sadly diminished, but our stock of courage and enthusiasm high as ever, and once more we set out for the peak whose location we began to guess at, but of whose distance away we could form no idea.
By noon the Professor announced, after a careful estimate of distances, that we were more than half way there, and that in an hour's time we should halt for lunch, which double announcement spurred those of the party who had been showing signs of weariness to a last heroic spurt. It was difficult to persuade any member of the party as we sat waiting for the baskets to be opened, that we had had one breakfast that morning, not to speak of two. After lunch the Professor declared that, having been brought up on a farm, he had been accustomed to a noon spell, and must have one. Being the least fatigued, or the most unwilling to acknowledge fatigue, this suggestion of a noon spell he could afford to make. So, stretched upon the broken rocks, we lay disposed at various angles, snuggled down into the soft spots of the old bony back. We slept for a full half-hour, and woke, so wonderful is this upper air, fresh and vigorous as in the morning. We packed our stuff, passed around our water-bottles, now, alas! almost empty, tied up the bleeding right foot of the Lady from Winnipeg with a portion of the fluttering skirt-remnants of the Lady from Montreal, seized our saplings, and once more faced the summit.
Far off a slight ledge appeared directly across our path. Should we make a detour to avoid it? Or was it surmountable? The Professor, supported by the majority of the party, decided for a detour to the left. The Missionary, supported by the Lady from Winnipeg, decided that the frontal attack was possible. In
