re the instruments and the
lunch. The sun was shining, but a keen north wind was blowing and the
thermometer stood at -4 deg. F. We were rather a sorry company. Karstens
still had internal pains; Tatum and I had severe headaches. Walter was
the only one feeling entirely himself, so Walter was put in the lead and
in the lead he remained all day.

[Illustration: The South Peak from about 18,000 feet.

The ridge with two peaks in the background is shaped like a horseshoe,
and the highest point on the mountain is on another little ridge just
beyond, parallel with the ridge that shows, almost at the middle point
between the two peaks.]

[Sidenote: Start to the Summit]

[Sidenote: Cold]

We took a straight course up the great snow ridge directly south of our
camp and then around the peak into which it rises; quickly told but
slowly and most laboriously done. It was necessary to make the traverse
high up on this peak instead of around its base, so much had its ice and
snow been shattered by the earthquake on the lower portions. Once around
this peak, there rose before us the horseshoe ridge which carries the
ultimate height of Denali, a horseshoe ridge of snow opening to the east
with a low snow peak at either end, the centre of the ridge soaring
above both peaks. Above us was nothing visible but snow; the rocks were
all beneath, the last rocks standing at about 19,000 feet. Our progress
was exceedingly slow. It was bitterly cold; all the morning toes and
fingers were without sensation, kick them and beat them as we would. We
were all clad in full winter hand and foot gear--more gear than had
sufficed at 50 deg. below zero on the Yukon trail. Within the writer's
No. 16 moccasins were three pairs of heavy hand-knitted woollen socks,
two pairs of camel's-hair socks, and a pair of thick felt socks; while
underneath them, between them and the iron "creepers," were the soles
cut from a pair of felt shoes. Upon his hands were a pair of the
thickest Scotch wool gloves, thrust inside huge lynx-paw mitts lined
with Hudson Bay duffle. His moose-hide breeches and shirt, worn all the
winter on the trail, were worn throughout this climb; over the shirt was
a thick sweater and over all the usual Alaskan "parkee" amply furred
around the hood; underneath was a suit of the heaviest Jaeger
underwear--yet until nigh noon feet were like lumps of iron and fingers
were constantly numb. That north wind was cruelly cold, and there can be
no pos