The hoarse cheer was answered. The soldiers――Sergeant Meek, Corporal Jerry Jackson, Freegift Stout, Alex Roy, and all――trooped out, to stand in line and present arms as the lieutenant, leading, rode through the gate. He saluted them like an officer again, and smiled wanly as if glad to be back. X ONWARD INTO WINTER “So yez didn’t climb the Grand Peak, after all,” Tom Dougherty once more queried. “We climbed far enough. As I told you before, nothin’ on two legs or on twice two legs will ever climb that Grand Peak,” John Brown answered. “Only an eagle can fly there. We were above the clouds, with naught to eat and little to breathe; and yon was the Grand Peak itself, as high again.” The men were wearied, but not yet wearied of hearing about the try for the Grand Peak. “You’re right. It’s beyond the reach o’ lungs and legs,” said Sergeant Meek. “For the cap’n and the doctor measured it to-day with their instruments, from a good sight of it. Ten thousand, five hundred and eighty-one feet above ground they make it out to be, or a good two miles into the air. And allowing for the fact that we’re nigh eight thousand feet up, right where we be, though you might not think it, that peak rises more’n eighteen thousand feet above sea level. The cap’n says it’s close to being the highest mountain in the world.”[D] [D] The Lieutenant’s measurement was wrong only about 1,000 feet. The height of the plain where they had been camping was some 4,500 feet, and Pike’s Peak rises 9,600 feet above. Corporal Jerry Jackson came in, from changing guard, and stood warming himself by the fire. “By jiminy, those hosses are being eaten alive,” he said. “I do pity ’em. I’d hate to be a hoss, on a trip like this.” “Yes; a man can understand an’ grin an’ bear it; but a hoss hasn’t any sense o’ the why an’ wherefore.” “Those pesky magpies are still at ’em, are they?” asked the sergeant. “A man to a hoss couldn’t keep the things off with a club.” “They even try to take the meat out a fellow’s hands,” quoth Freegift Stout. For the hungry magpies――bold birds of black-and-white, with long tails――hovered over the unsaddled and unpacked horses, lighted and pecked their raw backs until the blood flowed afresh. The horses, poor weak, thin creatures, kicked and whinneyed in vain. The magpies stuck fast and rode upon them, pecking. And as Freegift declared, swooped at the men also and grabbed for the meat in their hands. “Have Roy and Gordon come in sight yet?” Sergeant Meek asked. “We thought we could see ’em away out,” replied Corporal Jerry. “I don’t wish ’em frozen feet. We’ve got enough of such in camp.” “Yes, and one pair too many, speaking for myself,” groaned Jake Carter. This was the fourth day since leaving the stockade, and a bitter cold day, albeit warmer, according to the lieutenant’s instrument, than yesterday. The thermometer stood at only three degrees below freezing; yesterday it had been at seventeen below.