hem to go no farther. From that compilation
of scholarly worth, by Professor Edmond S. Meany, President of the
Mountaineers, entitled "Mount Rainier, a Record of Exploration," I
quote General Stevens's translation of Sluiskin's protest:

"Listen to me, my good friends," said Sluiskin, "I must talk with you."

"Your plan to climb Takhoma is all foolishness. No one can do it and
live. A mighty chief dwells upon the summit in a lake of fire. He brooks
no intruders.

"Many years ago my grandfather, the greatest and bravest chief of all
the Yakima, climbed nearly to the summit. There he caught sight of the
fiery lake and the infernal demon coming to destroy him, and fled down
the mountain, glad to escape with his life. Where he failed, no other
Indian ever dared make the attempt.

"At first the way is easy, the task seems light. The broad snow-fields
over which I have often hunted the mountain-goat offer an inviting path.
But above them you will have to climb over steep rocks overhanging deep
gorges, where a misstep would hurl you far down--down to certain death.
You must creep over steep snow-banks and cross deep crevasses where a
mountain-goat would hardly keep his footing. You must climb along steep
cliffs where rocks are continually falling to crush you or knock you off
into the bottomless depths.

"And if you should escape these perils and reach the great snowy dome,
then a bitterly cold and furious tempest will sweep you off into space
like a withered leaf. But if by some miracle you should survive all
these perils, the mighty demon of Takhoma will surely kill you and throw
you into the fiery lake.

"Don't you go. You make my heart sick when you talk of climbing Takhoma.
You will perish if you try to climb Takhoma. You will perish and your
people will blame me.

"Don't go! Don't go! If you go I will wait here two days and then go to
Olympia and tell your people that you perished on Takhoma. Give me a
paper to them to let them know that I am not to blame for your death. My
talk is ended."

Except for the demon and his lake of fire, Sluiskin's portent of
hardship proved to be a literal, even a modest, prophecy. At five
o'clock in the evening, after eleven hours of struggle with precipices
and glaciers, exhausted, chilled, and without food, they faced a night
of zero gales upon the summit. The discovery of comforting steam-jets in
a neighboring crater, the reality perhaps of Sluiskin's lake of fire,
made the nig