and Wenkchemna Glacier till he sights the two gaps in the south-eastern wall—Wastach and Sentinel Passes. Through one of these he scrambles into our Happy Valley. Meanwhile Billy has made his way over Sentinel Pass to Larch Valley, and thence down to the camp at Moraine Lake in the Valley of the Ten Peaks. Here he finds Freddy and the blankets, brought round by Mr. Holmes. Next morning they take a side trip up Consolation Valley and later in the day push along the south-eastern wall till they can come round the end into the Valley.
That many campers should look with favor on two-day trips is no surprise to me, for my own feelings in the matter may be partly hereditary prejudice. An ancestor of mine, many thousand years back, lived with his wife in a Paradise Valley of their own. One day they allowed themselves to be assisted through the gateway—presumably on a two-day trip—and none of the family have got back into that valley since.
In the modern Paradise Valley, at any rate, there was plenty of enjoyment for the one-day tripper, the man who liked to start off, not too soon after breakfast, in the wake of a well-filled rucksack, to reach at noon some remote part of the valley appropriate to the emptying of rucksacks, and to stroll back into camp with unexhausted frame in good time for the evening meal. To begin with, he could push up to the head of the valley as far as the Horseshoe Glacier, to feast his eyes on the towering snow-decked masses of Hungabee, Lefroy, and the Mitre. Or he could stay half way where the ice-fed waters of Paradise Creek come tumbling down the rock structure named not inaptly the "Giant's Stairway." Or he could follow the Larch Valley between Temple and Pinnacle to the summit of Sentinel Pass and after "rucksacitating" the wants of the inner man, could glissade homeward down the slope that so nearly finished our friends the Physician and
