yon and stand transfixed with amazement, at the sudden burst of glacier and snow peak that stand before us up the valley of the Agnes. Slowly ascending a steep hill, all thought of weariness is lost in a general adoration of the scene. Passing over the brow of the hill, we find Howard lake, nestled among trees and rocks, then pass to a delightful a delightful mountain stream below, where camp is pitched for the night. Grander and yet grander the scene appears. Having been here before, I ventured to say: "It is better farther up," but no one would believe me, thinking it impossible. Passing to a great rock overlooking the valley, an unobstructed view was obtained of Mount Wilkeson, at Bridge creek, numerous glaciers, and beyond all the black, jagged peaks overlooking the snowy sides of Horseshoe basin. For nearly two hours the party clung to this rock reveling in the scene, and when the supper bell was sounded, cast a far away, wistful glance, then lingered for a parting look, then for another, regardless of empty stomachs and the cook's repeated calls to duty. Scenes of the day banished all idea of travel by slow stages. "To the winds with your plans. On to Horseshoe basin," was the cry that night. Bright and early Saturday morning we were on our way, cheerfully plodding along. By 9 o'clock we reached Bridge creek, where a romantic bridge spans a chasm, and under it rushes with wild frenzy a snow-white stream, bounding from one great boulder to another and boiling in restless fury. Below the rocks anglers plied the fly, while over them the party scrambled, viewing the scene with noisy outbursts of admiration. After two hours we pushed on to Park crcek, where lunch was served and another long rest taken. Resuming the march, magnificent waterfalls appeared, first on this side, then on that, tumbling from cliffs hundreds of feet high, on the tops of which were great, grinding glaciers limed against the sky. The valley narrowed to a canyon and the walls grew higher. We tread upon beautiful flowers and listen to songs of birds over head, impressed with the idea that we stand in the gates of Paradise and look Heavenward. Higher and higher the cataracts grow, and become more numerous every hour. At last we tread on drifts of snow, lingering in the by-way through summertime. A Again we enter thick underbrush, and hear the fall of waters we do not see. Now and then the joyful note of a bird is heard, or a woman's voice is raised in song. Suddenly we emerge from the thicket and stand face to face with a vision of beauty unlike those gone before, and yet like them in a way. great gash is cut in the side of the canyon, and shining above many cataracts, like angels' protecting wings, spread from side to side and disappearing beyond the mountain, is the pure white face of a glacier, covered with spotless snow, except where deep blue ice lends its dainty streaks, adding contrast to a surpassingly beautiful scene. Beneath all this, 23 waterfalls come tumbling to the lower basin, a thousand feet below, where again the snow is piled and melting beneath a summer's sun. Still farther down the accumulated water is gathered together in a narrow trough between the rocks, and drops to the Stehekin in one single leap, first being divided by a stray rock lodged in the trough, thus giving us Twin Falls. Above the snow and the ice, the semicircle is surmounted by sharp minarets and peaks, silhouetted against the blue sky, like the teeth of a saw-and this is Horseshoe basin. Immediately in front of it, close to the Stehekin river, camp is pitched, and the cooks are preparing supper. Again hunger is forgotten for the time, and we marvel at the glories of nature as revealed all about us. across the river is a cataract tumbling from a granite wall 1000 feet feet high. Again I ventured to say: "It is better farther up," and again got no one to believe it possible. For a week we camped here as the guests of Dame Nature, and reveled in a lavish display of her handiwork. Just Sunday morning we climbed into lower Horseshoe basin, and visited the ered with snow, except in one place. On the brow of the hill, close to the trail, are two miners' cabins, occupied during the season of active operations. Like all other places in this region, it is a delightfully romantic spot, 'midst scenes of majestic grandeur. Moving to the right, we passed on, and with no cliff or crag to interfere with walls too steep to scale, we reached an altitude of 6125 feet, beyond which there was no wood to build a fire. As we rounded the sumr of this backbone and looked beyond, over a field of glaciers and jagged peaks, with little valleys cut deep in the wilderness of wild and rugged Nature, our hearts overflowed with gratitude that we were here and permitted to view a scene so unutterably glorious. Dazed with wonder and amazement, every eye was strained, lest some small fragment be lost. We sank upon the heather, crushing its delicate white blossoms, bent over a sparkling stream of pure ice water and partook of its life-giving nectar. The Valley of the Stehekin lay at our feet, and the deep-cut canyon of Cascade creek bore its way to the Skagit in the West. A fire was built, cocoa and coffee made and lunch served in the most beautiful spot it has ever been my lot to visit, although a lifetime has been spent in the mountains of the Pacific Northwest. A long rest was taken, and at 12 o'clock the upward march was commenced over an unbroken field of snow, extending to the summit, two and one-half miles distant. All day we had been passing around a great mountain of granite, forming the northwesterly heel of Horseshoe basin, from which a sharp, ragged, rocky ridge extended entirely around the basin, the highest point of which we were endeavoring to reach. Soon after getting under headway our attention was attracted by two mountain goats, or mazamas-an old one and a small kid. They passed leisurely along the ridge above, stopping now and then to watch us, then climbed to the top and passed along the crest, where their white. forms were beautifully silhouetted against the deep-blue sky. Quietly they passed over the rocks and disappeared. We climbed to the place from which they had gone, and at the point of approach found a wide cleft in the rock, into which we climbed and gazed down into Horseshoe basin, many hundreds of feet below. Minarets along the crest beyond seemed even sharper than from the valley, whereas rough and broken glaciers glittered in the bright sunlight as jewels in a sea of snow. Here we rested again, absorbed in admiration and wonder: then returned to the snow field and resumed our climb. Aby-word now passed along the line: "It is better farther up: yes, it is better farther up." And so it proved, in spite of the seeming impossibility. Each moment we were more and more enraptured of the scene; each moment more helpless to express the deep emotion of our hearts. Overcome, nonplussed, helpless; in our dire ex tremity to formulate words to express depth of feeling, we were plunged into hopeless despair, and could only ejacu late "Wonderful! Wonderful! Wonderful!" Steeper and steeper the climb became, until at last we loosened great sheets of snow and watched them as they slid far down below. Slowly but surely we approached the rocky peak. until at last it was attained, and we clambered up it in single file, for its narrow edge will not permit two persons side by side. Remarkable as the scene had been before, transcendently beautiful and sublime; grand and inspiring beyond the power of man to comprehend, still a glance beyond the peak and that scene was doubled. Never in the palmiest days of old were Grecian gods favored as we. I have spent twenty-three consecutive summers in the mountains of the Pacific Northwest, have stood upon Rainier, Hood, Adams, St. Helens and other peaks, and supposed I had witnessed the choicest scenes of the earth, but they all pale before this one, and when compared to it are as the flat and desolate prairie to lordly Rainier, king of mountains. Far off to the South stands Glacier Peak, a giant among snow-clad mountains. To the North is Baker in similar form and proportions, spreading his white mantle about him |