Page:Canadian Alpine Journal I, 1.djvu/102

Rh less but triumphant, we are standing upon the head of the old Cascade.

We dare only take a few minutes to gaze about us, but these are enough to make indelible the picture before us. Down at our feet the wide valley of the Bow with its winding river, then range on range of snow-streaked mountains, with here and there mighty peaks rising high and white against the deep blue. One giant, whose head towers far above all his fellows, arrests the eye. There he stands in solitary grandeur. Not till years after do we learn that this is the mighty Assiniboine. But there are no words to paint these peaks. They are worth climbing to see, and once seen they are worth remembering. I close my eyes any day, and before me is spread out the vision of these sweeping ranges jutting up into all sorts of angles, and above them, lonely and white, the solitary sentinel, Assiniboine.

Without a word, we look our fill and turn to the descent. A hundred yards or more and we come upon our party who, with a reckless ambition, have been climbing after us. But the whole back of the Cascade lies now in shadow, and, though half an hour will do it, we dare not encourage them to take the risk. The party has been successful, though individuals have failed. And with this comfort in our hearts and with no small anxiety as to what awaits us, we set off down the slope. It is much easier than we have anticipated until we strike the scree. Here, for the first few steps, we proceed with great caution, but after a short time, becoming accustomed to have the whole mountain slip with us, we abandon ourselves to the exhilaration of toboganning upon the skidding masses of broken rock; and touching here and there the high spots, as the Professor says, we make the descent with seven-leagued boots till we reach the timber. It is here we meet our first accident for the day. The Lady from