The boys laughed, and went on their way. They soon came to the trail itself, and struck up the Six Husbands at last, headed directly for the cliffs of Jefferson and Adams, which seemed to be towering over their heads. “It _does_ look like a job, and no mistake!” cried Peanut. “Well, if somebody can put a trail up it, we can follow ’em, I guess,” cried Art. “This is something like mountain climbing!” But for half a mile the trail didn’t ascend much. It followed up a brook, and seemed to be headed for the ravine between Adams and Jefferson. Presently they came to a fork in the trail, where the Adams Slide Trail branched off to the east. Here there was a spring, labeled Great Spring on the map, where they filled their canteens, and taking the left fork, the Six Husbands, began at last the real ascent of Jefferson. There was no longer any doubt about its being an ascent, either. The map showed that from the Great Spring to the crossing of the Gulf Side Trail at the summit cone of the mountain was little over a mile, but that mile, as Peanut said, was stood up on end. They plugged away for a while, toiling upward, weighted down with their packs and blankets, which had increased in weight at least fifty per cent. since morning, and then decided to eat lunch before the fuel gave out. It was hard work chopping up fire-wood from the tough, aged, and gnarled stumps of the dwarf spruces which alone could grow on this cliff side, but they got a blaze at last, and made tea and cooked some bacon--the last they had. It was one o’clock before they were through, and Rob, seeing that Peanut was pretty tired and Art pretty sleepy, ordered a rest for an hour. They spread out their blankets and lay down, in a spot where there was the least danger of rolling off, and soon the two younger boys were fast asleep. Rob didn’t go to sleep. He watched an eagle sailing on still wings out over the Gulf, and presently, to his consternation, he saw a thin wisp of vapor curling around the ridges far above on Adams. Southwestward, the slopes of Washington were clear, but there was surely cloud coming above them, and they on a little used trail, without Mr. Rogers! Rob’s heart went suddenly down into his boots, and he felt a cold sweat come. Then he pulled himself together. “Fool!” he half whispered. “If we keep on up, we are bound to hit the Gulf Side Trail. And didn’t Mr. Rogers say that if you kept cool you were much better off? Brace up, old Scout!” He waited till his heart had stopped thumping, and then he waked the other two. “We’ve got to be climbing again,” he said; “there’s a cloud coming over Adams.” “Say, there’s always a cloud coming, seems to me,” said Peanut. “Well, come on then. Gee, I was having a good sleep!”