There is a cave on the top of Mount Mitchell, made by a large overhanging rock. People generally go up from the sensible side of the mountain,—which is not the side the lady went up, because she didn’t know any better, you see. The people who go up from the sensible side take blankets and food on the backs of mules, and stay all night in the cave. That is good fun. But the lady had no blankets and no mule,—only a very tired guide, who was so tired because he got frightened on the mountain thinking he had lost the way, and a poor little hungry baby squirrel fast asleep under her belt. The lady looked into the cave, and what do you think she found? A couch of balsam boughs; but that doesn’t count. An old coffee-pot; but that doesn’t count. A little can partly full of condensed milk; and that does count,—for, you see, it saved Baby Mitchell’s life. Somebody had been camping there sometime, and had left the can of milk, and it had not turned sour because it is so cold up there even in midsummer. While the guide was trying to make a fire out of wet sticks, the lady took Little Mitchell out from under her belt,—and a very limp baby he was by this time, for he was nearly starved to death, of course. She dipped the end of her finger in the milk and put it in Little Mitchell’s mouth. Perhaps you think he wouldn’t eat condensed milk. You should have seen him! He licked every bit from the lady’s finger, and then cried for more. She fed him all she dared,—for when you are almost starved it is dangerous to eat too much at a time, you know. When she would give him no more, he cried very hard,—he was such a hungry baby, and the milk tasted so good. But pretty soon he quieted down and went fast asleep again, and was tucked back under the soft belt. The guide could not start a fire,—which shows he was not a “truly” guide, for a “truly” guide can make a fire out of icicles, you know. So, all wet and shivery, they sat in the cave and ate some lunch out of the lady’s bag, which had been carried by the guide. They hardly dared to rest at all, for they had to get to the foot of the mountain before night; so in a few minutes they started down. III LITTLE MITCHELL’S FIRST RIDE, AND HOW HE AND HIS LADY GET HOME Oh, no, indeed! They didn’t try to go back the way they came up. They went down the sensible side of the mountain. The distance was more than twice as great, but there was a plain path all the way.