Now,
a cautious mountaineer seldom takes a step on unknown ground which seems
at all dangerous that he cannot retrace in case he should be stopped by
unseen obstacles ahead. This is the rule of mountaineers who live long,
and, though in haste, I compelled myself to sit down and calmly
deliberate before I broke it.
Retracing my devious path in imagination as if it were drawn on a chart,
I saw that I was recrossing the glacier a mile or two farther up stream
than the course pursued in the morning, and that I was now entangled in
a section I had not before seen. Should I risk this dangerous jump, or
try to regain the woods on the west shore, make a fire, and have only
hunger to endure while waiting for a new day? I had already crossed so
broad a stretch of dangerous ice that I saw it would be difficult to
get back to the woods through the storm, before dark, and the attempt
would most likely result in a dismal night-dance on the glacier; while
just beyond the present barrier the surface seemed more promising, and
the east shore was now perhaps about as near as the west.
Pages:
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35