by huge gutters, or gullies, and overgrown by stunted vegetation. Beyond this is timber again; but it is the last, and is low, scraggy, and scattered in clumps.

It was with a sense of relief, and not altogether without fatigue, that we dismounted just before sundown at the camping place; for twelve miles of rough trail presents some difficulty when the latter end of it is so much higher than the other. As it was late when we dismounted we had no time to lose in preparing for the night. When a suitable place had been found for the horses, a delegation was started out to find water for the animals and for cooking, while the rest of us gathered wood, started a fire, and prepared for the evening meal. About a quarter of a mile away a spring was found, which pours out of the mountain side, and runs down a little way, only to disappear again into the sand. and rocks, and we soon had our delicious coffee and cracked-wheat simmering over a cheerful fire.

The sun had just sunk behind the western mountains. It had been a warm day in the valley and up the slopes, but the air up here already began to feel chilly, and the shades of night were beginning to gather in the valleys below, while above, the snow fields were just taking their last warmth of color from the sunset glow.

After supper we made our beds by placing stones in the form of a square for a bedstead, and filling in with twigs from the trees. On these our blankets were spread, making a comfortable bed, in our large, well ventilated bed chamber, eight thousand feet above the level of the sea.

The world is spread out below us; the stars swing in the clear blue above, seeming nearer than ever before as they pass the snowy summit; and the white tops of other peaks, clear outlined against the evening sky, look at us across the darkening depths around. What a place for noble thoughts

and contemplation! If grandeur can inspire, who could here escape inspiration?

But, alas for noble mental moods and our predictions of the previous evening! The musical moan of the forest below came to our ears mingled with the "B sharp" hum of the mosquito. Not the pampered son of the luxurious lowlands, but a hardy race of mountaineers, accustomed to carrying their point in spite of a strong wind and an almost freezing atmosphere. Their bold familiarity and perseverance were something wholly unknown to us; indeed, we were induced to lie awake nearly all night to observe their habits and express our surprise. If the mosquitoes of ancient Asia flourished in proportion to the altitude as they do here, it is easy to infer what means was used for the confusion of tongues at Babel.

Next morning we were awakened at the first gleam by the whoop of the experienced member who had made the ascent before, and were soon at our hasty breakfast. We pocketed a lunch, and chose each an alpenstock from among the poles that former tourists had left strewn around the camp poles that only lacked an Alpine brand to show their previous experience and about five o'clock were ready to begin the ascent.

We were soon on the snow, which stretches down like great white rivers between huge ridges of rock, and which was quite hard in the crisp morning air. By the warning advice of the experienced member, we started at what seemed a ridiculously deliberate pace, but one that is found to be absolutely necessary to success in reaching the summit of the six miles of steep snow and rock pile which lie, or rather lean up, before one.

The morning was clear; but soon a mist began to form in the atmosphere below us and come rolling up and stretching in light clouds around the mountain. But the sun soon presented itself to dispel the fog and to dazzle our eyes and burn our faces by its

gleam upon the snow. One of us had found veil enough at the camp for two faces; but as we had neglected to provide ourselves with the usual veil or coating of tallow, the rest of us were obliged to suffer.

At the beginning of our walk we noticed a hardy species of phlox blooming beside the snow wherever a little earth had lodged among the rocks; but we were soon above these, and everything looked as unworn and sharp as if fresh from the convulsions that shaped it. One might almost think that Nature, on seeing the roughness of her work, had become discouraged and left it without making any arrangements for its future decoration. But we were occasionally reminded that she was still at hand, and working busily at the slow leveling processes by which so much of the globe has been made habitable, as a rock, loosened from some high cliff, and starting others in its course, went thundering down. We took the suggestion, and started rocks down the snow, to watch their leaps increase until they disappeared in eager haste to visit places they had so long looked down upon.

The sun had now become quite warm, and we toiled on slowly, pausing frequently to rest, or to drink of the water that occasionally in its downward course came in sight among the rocks at the edge of the snow; until we reached the "Red Bank"a great cliff of reddish yellow lava, which crops out on the side of the mountain, nearly two thousand feet below the summit. hardest climbing was now done, and we stopped to eat our lunch in the shelter of the rock; for we seemed now to have entered a region of high winds, and it blew a gale.

Our

The rest of the way our route was along a great backbone of the mountain, which extends southward from the summit. On our left broad and gradually sloping fields of snow extended west toward the crater; while on our right the descent was abrupt, and huge glacial cracks gaped open in the

snow.

We were now so fatigued that we found it impossible long to sustain the exertion necessary for making progress or keeping warm in the full sweep of the chilly blast; so we would push on until we came to some place more sheltered than the rest, then putting our benumbed hands in our pockets, we would lie flat and close together on the rocks a few moments, and then up and on to another shelter.

The summit of the mountain is divided into two peaks. The eastern one is the higher; and in the notch between the two, not more than two or three hundred feet below the highest point, is a hot sulphur spring The water sinks among the loose rocks as fast as it comes out, so there is nothing but a few puddles of dirty-looking hot water to be seen; but these are kept bubbling by sulphuretted hydrogen gas, which is emitted in such volume as, even in the gale, powerfully to suggest a chemical laboratory.

Some years ago the Government erected an iron tower, about three feet in diameter and twelve feet high, on the highest point of the peak; and on the paint of this, as well as in a record book kept there, it has become the custom of the select few that are able to visit it to inscribe their names. This tower marked the goal of our endeavors; and giving our hats an extra tie, (for we had found it necessary to tie them on some hours before,) we started from the spring in a body for our last climb.

As we scrambled up the last crag the experienced member, being ahead, rushed up, and throwing his arms around the tower, volunteered a second performance of the whoop that had awakened us that morning. Perhaps the extreme faucal action loosened his hat-string; for a sudden gust up the mountain side secured his hat, and it was seen to rise several hundred feet and start off for the northern part of the State of Nevada. He was obliged to make the descent with his red bandana tied over

his head, looking like a Saracen with fierce. red turban.

The wind and cold were so severe that our stay on the summit was shorter than one could wish; however, one hour is about as good as two for a scene to which weeks could not do justice. Northern California and part of Oregon lay spread out like a great birds-eye map. To the southeast, seventyfive miles away, the snows of Lassen's Peak seemed quite near, and far beyond it are visible the white tops of other peaks in the great Sierra; while at an equal distance north the beautiful symmetry of Mount Pitt in Oregon shows white above the Cascades, which stretch ridge after ridge for leagues beyond. It seems but a little distance south to where the mountains stop and the Sacramento Valley broadens about Redding, and disappears far away in the smoky atmosphere of the lowlands. Beyond the rugged and broken ranges toward the coast the air is cloudy, and we are unable to see the Pacific. The valleys at our feet are so smoky that the lower part of our view is much limited; but we can discern the hills in the Shasta Valley as ant hills in a distant meadow, while the surrounding and formerly respected mountains seem only low and flat diminutives of their former selves.

The view of Mount Shasta itself is grand beyond description. West of us, more than half a mile lower, and two or three miles distant, is the great crater of the mountain. More than half of the great rim is yet intact -what is left of a huge bowl a mile in diameter, whose side seems to have been burst out by its molten contents. In other directions, from the summit, great serrated ridges of rock stretch down into the forest; while between them ever narrowing areas of snow extend for miles to meet the trees, like guards to keep the green from infringing on its white domain. From our great height the lower part of the snow, steep though it really is, looks nearly level, as do the wooded slopes and valleys beyond; and a passing

VOL. X.-14.

cloud looks in the sunshine like a white sheet spread on the dark green carpet of pines.

Though pleasant enough below, our day had not proved to be one of the best for the ascent, the atmosphere being too smoky below and too fiercely mobile above. Indeed, even in the climate of California, there are few days in the year that are in all respects excellent for the purpose of climbing Mount Shasta, and we may consider our ascent very successful, as we were all able to reach the summit.

The most enjoyable part of our journey began at the Red Bank, for here begins "the slide." Each ties a piece of coarse sackcloth to himself, sits down on it, places his pole under his left arm, with the rear end of it thrust into the snow to serve as a brake, and goes tobogganing down. This is indeed rare sport, and exciting enough to satisfy the most blasé. The snow had been so much softened that day by the July sun that we were unable to coast successfully much more than a mile. When the snow is hard, it is said, one can coast about three miles at a speed only limited by his own prudence.

Soon we were running down the last slopes of snow, and as we neared the camp heard the welcoming neigh of our horses. We soon disposed of a hasty lunch, and having packed our impedimenta, mounted our impatient horses for the long ride down through the timber.

When we reached the hotel our turbaned

Clinton Scollard.

This is the first of the series of "American Statesmen" to which two volumes have been devoted, and it is pleasant to grant that it is a biography from which almost nothing could be taken without marring its completeness. The publishers were fortunate in being able to find so thoroughly well qualified a writer for the book. The biography of Henry Clay will not again have to be written. It is rare that any statesman's career has been so carefully and intelligently studied, so fairly judged, and so concisely and admirably written.

Mr. Clay's life from the age of twenty-six for almost fifty years was passed in the public service. His signal abilities placed him almost from the beginning among the leaders in politics and statesmanship. Almost every question of national interest and national legislation felt his influence; for he was almost the ablest advocate, or ablest opponent, of every great public 'Life of Henry Clay. By Carl Schurz. In two volBoston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin, and Company. 1887. For Sale in San Francisco by Chilion Beach.

umes.

So

measure from the beginning of the century to the close of his career, in 1852. To study his life is to study the political history of this country during the period of his mature years. To no one could the theme be more interesting than to Mr. Schurz; to no one could it have been confided with equal certainty of its excellent accomplishment. many years of political life had to be traversed, the discussion of so many public questions to be examined, so many speeches to be read and analyzed, and their core extracted; the parts that so many other public men played had to be viewed and their influence determined, that it is a literary wonder that these two volumes can and do contain all that is essential to a full knowledge of the political life of Mr. Clay, and of the political history of the country during that life. The quality of intelligent concentration, of concise statement, of successful brevity, crowns the industry of the author. Mr. Schurz has apparently shirked in no respect, but has studied a multitude of de