A mile or more of climbing brought them into the ravine. It was not so large as Tuckerman’s, and it had no lake embosomed in its rocky depths, but in some ways it was an even wilder and more impressive spot. On the right, to the east, the cliff wall rose up much steeper than in Tuckerman’s, to Nelson’s Crag. On the west, also, the wall was almost perpendicular, while the jagged and uneven head wall, which did not form the beautiful amphitheatre curve of Tuckerman’s head wall, and had no snow arch at its base, looked far harder to climb. “Wow!” said Peanut. “You win. I don’t want to climb here.” “Why, it’s easy. You can climb where other folks have,” said the stout man, with a wink. “Folks have climbed all three of these cliffs.” “That one to the left?” asked Peanut. “Sure,” said the man. “What with, an aeroplane?” “With hobnail boots,” said the other. “I guess they had pretty good teeth and finger nails, also,” Frank put in. A half mile more, and the trail ended at a great mass of debris and broken rocks piled up in the shape of a fan at the base of the head wall. “This is called the Fan,” said the stout man. “Here’s where the job begins. Goodbye, boys.” “Oh, let’s go up a way!” cried Art. “If they can do it, we can.” “Sure,” said Peanut, as he saw the two men begin to climb carefully over the broken fragments of the Fan. “Oh, please!” the rest cried. “Well, just a short way,” Mr. Rogers reluctantly consented, “if you’ll agree to come down when I give the order. We have no ropes, and we are none of us used to rock climbing. I won’t take the risk. If we had ropes and proper spiked staffs, it would be different.” The Scouts, with a shout, started up behind the two men, who had now ceased their rapid walking, and were going very slowly and carefully. The boys soon found out why. The footing on the rocky debris of the Fan was extremely treacherous, and you had to keep your eyes on every step, and test your footing. About fifty yards before the top of the Fan was reached, the two climbers ahead turned to the right, and made their way along a shelf on the ledge which they called a “lead,” toward a patch of scrub. One by one, the boys followed them, using extreme caution on the narrow shelf. At the patch of scrub, they could look on up the head wall, and see that the mass of rocks which made the Fan had been brought down by frost and water in a landslide from the top, and made a gully all the way to the summit. To climb the wall, you had to use this gully. It looked quite hopeless, but the stout man started right up, the tall man following him, zigzagging from one lead, or shelf, to another. The boys followed. “Gee,” said Peanut, “wish it hadn’t rained so lately. These rocks are slippery. And I don’t like walking with the ground in my face all the time.” “I think it’s fun,” said Art. “Me, too,” said Frank. “But I don’t like to look back, though.”