"
"Books are all very well, Miss. But I'm not a mountain man.
The truth is I don't know my way fifty feet from this cabin.
I got the job because I'm used to loneliness, and don't mind
it, and because I can cook, d'you see, having shipped as
cook for years. But I'm a seafaring man, Miss. I wouldn't
advise it, Miss. Another cup of tea?"
But Long's Peak, king of the range, had fascinated her from
the first. She knew that the climb to the summit would be
impossible for her now, but she had an overwhelming desire
to see the terrifying bulk of it from a point midway of the
range. It beckoned her and intrigued her, as the difficult
always did.
By noon of the following day she had left Albert Edward's
cabin (he stood looking after her in the doorway until she
disappeared around the bend) and was jauntily following the
trail that led to Boulder Field, that sea of jagged rock a
mile across. Soon she had left the tortured, wind-twisted
timberline trees far behind. How pitiful Cabin Rock and
Twin Sisters looked compared to this.
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