formed trees, some of them prone on the ground, seem to crouch before even the summer breeze. Where the struggle for existence is less severe, each grove is a cluster of tapering spires and minarets of evergreens. Between the irregularly scattered groves there are grassy meadows and flower-strewn glades, all combining to make park-like retreats of rare beauty. There are several of these natural parks about the slopes of Mount Rainier, at elevations between five and seven thousand feet. Spray Park, on the north side of the mountain, is one of the most inviting localities of the region, and now has a trail leading to it through the forests by way of Crater Lake. It commands wide-reaching views of the densely forested country to the north, and of the shores of Puget Sound, as well as of the great central dome of the mountain. The white pyramid, clearly outlined against the sky and known as the Liberty Cap, is in sight. Though not the actual crowning summit of the mountain, its sky-line forms the apex of the grandest profiles. Moraine Park, on the east side of the mountain, and Paradise Park and Henry's Hunting-Ground, on its sunny southern slopes, have similar attractions. Each of these great parks embraces thousands of acres, and can accommodate many camping parties at one time. There are, besides, numerous smaller retreats, hidden glens, and lake-shores, each of which has its own special charm.

From our camp near Lace Falls we tramped eastward with heavy burdens across Carbon Glacier and through Moraine Park. Throughout all this region the extremely rugged northern side of the central mass of Mount Rainier is in full view. The vast cliffs, some four thousand feet high, forming the walls of the amphitheatre in which Carbon Glacier has its source, are the grandest on the mountain. This northern side of the central dome has suffered more than any other portion from the agencies which are slowly destroying the great mountain. Sculptured into cliffs and buttresses and swept by avalanches, it defies the boldest mountaineer.

Our next camp was in a thicket of flattened and gnarled balsam-trees at an elevation of about seven thousand feet, on the border of the Winthrop Glacier. These trees are the highest that grow on the

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northern or eastern side of the mountain, and mark the actual "timber-line." Beneath their shelter were the beds of mountain-goats, but recently vacated. Many trails led to neighboring feeding-grounds and on down the mountain. On sunny days the shrill whistle of marmots was heard on all sides. We were in fresh pastures through which coursed swiftly a snow-fed brook. Not an axe-mark scarred the trees. No embers indicated the sites of former camp-fires.

Three of our party remained at this camp, while five of us visited the top of the mountain. Taking blankets, a small supply of rations, an alcohol-lamp, alpenstocks, and other appliances for mountainwork, our party of five roped themselves together in true Alpine style, and began the climb. We ascended the moderately steep but greatly crevassed surface of Winthrop Glacier, to a great wedge of rock which divides the snow and ice flowing eastward from the higher slopes of the mountain, at an elevation of about ten thousand feet, and causes it to separate into the Winthrop and Emmons glaciers. This sharp prow of rock, formed by the meeting of two lines of precipices, we termed The Wedge.

We reached our desolate and utterly barren resting-place late in the afternoon. While some of the party, to obtain a supply of water, spread snow on smooth, sloping rocks, or on rubber blankets, and allowed it to melt by the heat of the sun, others arranged a shelter with alpenstocks and a canvas bed-cover for our lamp, and prepared coffee. Shelf-like ledges were dug in a steep slope of loose stones, on which we arranged our blankets and passed the night.

The great wedge of rock that furnished us a resting-place rises some five hundred feet above the ice that breaks against it, and is the apex of a broad V-shaped portion of the lower mountain-slope which has been spared by the glaciers. It owes its prominence to the excavation of the deep glacial valleys that border it and diverge from its apex. There are several great wedges of a similar character at various localities on the sides of the mountain, at about the same general elevation, which oppose their sharp angles to the flowing sheet of névé-snow as it descends

The largest of these prow-like mountain masses against which the ice currents divide is Little Tahoma, on the east side of the mountain separating the ice mass of Emmons Glacier from that of Cowlitz Glacier. The ice, as it is parted by this obstruction into two currents, is greatly shattered and forced high on the cliffs. The rugged pile of weather-beaten rocks rises in nearly vertical precipices a thousand feet above the glaciers at its base, and has an elevation above the sea of approximately 11,500 feet. It stands as an independent peak on the slope of Mount Rainier, but the lava-sheets which form its mass present their broken edges in its cliffs. Their relations show that they are remnants of more extensive sheets. The peak, like a ruined outwork of a mighty structure, suggests the magnitude which Rainier formerly possessed. The mountain was once a perfect cone, with smooth, even slopes, having the form common to volcanoes built up by eruptions from a central crater. But glaciers flowing from its heights have sculptured its slopes into canyons and amphitheatres of grand proportions. The present general ruggedness, and the great rocks that seem to project from its sides, of which Little Tahoma, just mentioned, Gibraltar, on the southern slope, and the Guardian Rocks on the north side, are examples, are not without order and significance. The mountain has not always been what the awe-inspired traveller now beholds, but has a long and instructive history inscribed on its surface or concealed in its inner structure. Much of the fascination that draws the student of geography and geology to the mountain is due to the interest that the interpretation of its history awakens.

The perennial snows which gather on the sides of the mountain form extensive névé-fields, and these, flowing downward, divide into many individual glaciers. The great streams of ice, which are still working at the task of tearing to pieces the mountain that gave them birth, are fine examples of the class of glaciers to which they belong. They are of the Alpine type, and present all the characteristic features of the glaciers of Switzerland. They are the largest glaciers yet discovered in the United

Early on the morning of July 24th we breakfasted as frugally as we had supped the previous evening. Leaving our blankets at The Wedge, and taking only our oil-coats for protection against the wind that we expected to encounter on the mountain-top, together with our alcohollamp and a meagre supply of provisions, we began the ascent of the snow-covered slope towering above us.

So far as I have been able to learn, no one had ascended the east side of Mount Rainier previous to our excursion. No trail, nor, in fact, any evidence of the former presence of man was visible. We had to rely on our own judgment and find a way between the yawning crevasses as best we could. There was but one general principle to guide us; our course led upward. Much of the way the slope was so steep that we could barely retain a foothold in the hard snow with our spiked shoes, aided by our alpenstocks. In only a few places, however, was it necessary to cut steps. The snow was greatly crevassed and numerous snow-bridges had to be crossed. Owing to the steepness of the general slope, the upper sides of the crevasses frequently stood as walls, which rose in front of us in ascending, and were the most troublesome of all the obstructions to overcome. Several times after wearily threading our way through a maze of intersecting fractures for an hour or more, an impassable gulf or a vertical wall barred farther progress. A retreat and another attempt was then the only re

source.

Our advance was slow even on unbroken slopes, as we were roped together, and it was necessary for safety that some of the party should always have a firm hold in the snow with alpenstocks while others were advancing. Once we were in danger of a disaster. While crossing a steep snow-slope diagonally, and having a yawning crevasse immediately below us, the man next the rear end of the line slipped and slid down the slope on his back to the very brink of the yawning gulf. Unfortunately the man behind him at that critical moment removed his alpenstock from the snow, was jerked from his feet, and, shooting head first down the steep incline, dis

appeared over the edge of the crevasse. A severe strain came on the rope, but the three men in advance held fast with their alpenstocks. Before assistance could be extended to the man dangling in mid-air in the crevasse, he climbed the taut rope and stood unharmed among us once more. The only unfortunate result of the accident was the loss of an alpenstock. Continuing our climb, and having learned caution by experience, we at length slowly approached the dark rocks that marked the position of the crater at the summit. Weary, and some of the party suffering severely from mountain-sickness, we gained the base of the crater-wall and among the stones found shelter from the freezing gale that was blowing from the westward.

Throwing off the life-line, which had become almost an intolerable burden, I scaled the pile of bare rocks and gained the rim of the crater. The great bowl within was deeply filled with snow, but the black circle forming its rim could be distinctly traced. Descending the inner slope for about a hundred feet, I found a place where steam was issuing from a crevice in the rocks, and warmed my benumbed fingers. Soon my companions joined me and we took refuge in one of the many caverns that the heat of the rocks and of the escaping steam had melted in the lower portion of the snow and ice partially filling the crater. In these weird caverns one may descend far beyond the light of day. The white vapors drifting silently through the dimly lighted passages assume grotesque shapes and suggest to the imaginative visitor that spirits of the time when Pluto's reign was supreme there make their homes.

By melting snow in our tin cups over the cracks from which steam was issuing we soon had water enough with which to prepare tea. In the absence of sugar and cream, a little alcohol from the supply brought for fuel was added to each cup and proved a welcome stimulant. Making ourselves as comfortable as possible under the circumstances, we passed the night in the cavern of ice. There were no ledges broad enough to lie down on, and we were forced to stand or crouch against the hot rocks all night. The floor of our cavern sloped steeply and led down to an ugly opening of unknown depth, between

the descending roof of ice and the rocks. To guard against accidents, the life-line was stretched across the cavern and made fast to crags. This proved a wise precaution, as we were able during the night to walk up and down with the rope in our hands and avoid the stiffness and discomfort that comes from remaining long in one position.

The roar of the gale among the rocks above our roof of ice made us glad of the shelter our retreat afforded, and lessened the discomfort of leaning all night against the hot, moist rock, while the icy drafts from branching caverns blew over us. Our clothing was soaked with condensed steam. All rules of health were disregarded, but when the dome of ice above us became blue with the light of the rising sun, we found that we had suffered no illeffects from our exposure.

Climbing to the topmost point on the crater's rim, we stood 14,500 feet above the sea. The magnificent view we had hoped to behold was obscured. The entire land was covered with a dense ocean of smoke, the undulating surface of which was some three or four thousand feet below the mountain-top and shut out every vestige of the land beneath.

Far to the north, like a solitary island in the sea, rose the summit of Mount Baker, above the smoke, and several of the snowy summits of the Cascades visible to the eastward outlined the course of that beautiful mountain-range. To the south, and seemingly near at hand, we could discern the more elevated portions of Mount Adams and Mount St. Helens. The two mountains last named and Mount Baker, like the mountain on which we stood, are of volcanic origin, but their energy is expended. These grand volcanic piles once cast a glare over hundreds of miles of the Pacific Ocean, but the formerly molten rocks now retain only a remnant of their heat. That renewed eruption from these ancient volcanoes or in their vicinity will occur, is more than probable.

In descending, we passed down the south side of the mountain, skirting the base of the massive rock known as Gibraltar, at an elevation of about twelve thousand feet, and gained Paradise Park. This side of the mountain is easy of ascent, and affords the usual route taken by

tourists and others. Scores of people, including a few ladies, have climbed the mountain by way of Gibraltar, and returned in safety and without excessive fatigue.

We found friends encamped in Paradise Park, who extended to us a warm welcome. In the evening we gathered around a blazing camp-fire and discussed the pleasures of mountain-climbing, but more especially the many varied charms of Mount Rainier. Several other parties were encamped in the broad, beautiful park, and all the people I met there were enthusiastic over the healthful life they were leading and the marvellous beauties of the scenes about them.

Bidding our kind friends good-by the following morning, we continued our tramp and passed around the east side of Mount Rainier, crossing the Cowlitz and Emmons Glaciers, and on the evening of the second day after leaving Paradise Park, regained our camping-place at The Wedge. Thence we retraced our steps, still visible in the snow, to the main camp. The tramp about the east side of the mountain, although fatiguing and beset with difficulties, was the most instructive and interesting portion of the entire excursion. Later, a visit was made to the west side of the mountain, which included Spray Park, Willis Glacier, Eagle Cliff, and Crater Lake. The most magnificent view that can be had of Mount Rainier is from Eagle Cliff. This in fact is one of the most sublime scenes presented anywhere in America. From among the firs on the cliff's overhanging ledge the descent of two thousand feet into the canyon is impressive as a view into Yosemite, and beyond this gulf rises the snowy mass of Rainier, a pyramid of flashing ice nine thousand feet high, relieved by the deep-blue lines of the crevasses and the black and red rock-ribs of the volcano. The view is toward the east. With the golden glory of sunrise as a background, the Liberty Cap tipped with roseate hues, the glaciers half hidden in purple shadow, and the canyon's abyss immeasurably deep in darkness, the scene

is worthy of a poet's journey from the farthest Orient.

All who have scaled the icy slopes of the monarch among the mountains of the Far Northwest, breathed the clear air about it, and been lulled to sleep on a couch of fragrant boughs by the music of falling waters, return to the prosaic tasks of every-day life with two wishes firmly rooted in their breasts. These are, that they may be permitted to return to the mountain, and that it may be preserved in all its natural beauty and sublimity as a legacy for generations to Steps have already been taken for reserving Mount Rainier and the rugged country immediately about it as a national park, to be held in trust by the general Government, for the free use of all who may wish to visit it, providing only that they will spare the trees and do no injury to the birds and harmless animals that make their homes among them.

come.

A bill has been presented to Congress in which the boundaries of the proposed Washington National Park are designated. They embrace an area about twenty-five miles square, within which, as I can testify from observation, there are comparatively few trees of value to lumbermen, and such as do occur are in a rugged region and so difficult of access that it will be long before they are of any commercial value. There are no mines, and geologists see no reason for believing that valuable deposits of ore or coal will ever be discovered. The proposed park includes a portion of the extremely rugged crest of the Cascade Mountains, but not Cowlitz Pass, through which it is expected a railroad will soon be built.

There is nothing within the limits of the proposed reservation to excite the greed of man, except the natural beauties of the region. If the gateways to Mount Rainier and the beautiful natural parks on its sides pass into the ownership of individuals or syndicates, toll may be charged for breathing the free air, maintaining health, and cultivating the æsthetic sense that is awakened in every heart by an intimate acquaintance with nature in her finer moods.