At the
southern end of the island rose an abrupt black peak.
"If we can get to the top of that," said Milton, "it ought to bring us
to the general desert level. Is your knee bothering you, Judge?"
"Not enough to stop the parade," replied Enoch. "How high do you think
that peak is, Milton?"
"Not less than a thousand feet, I would guess. I bet it's as easy to
climb as a greased pole, too."
The pinnacle, when they reached it, appeared very little less difficult
than Milton had guessed it would be. The north side offered no hope
whatever. It rose smooth and perpendicular toward the heavens. But
the south side was rough and though a yawning fissure at its base added
five hundred feet to its southern height they determined to try their
fortunes here. Ledges and jutting rocks, cracks and depressions
finally made the ascent possible. The top, when they achieved it, was
not twenty feet in diameter. They dropped on it, panting.
The view which met their eyes was superb. To the south lay the desert,
rainbow colored. Rising abruptly from its level were isolated peaks of
bright purple, all of them snow capped, many of them with crevices
marked by the brilliant white of snow. Miles to the south of the
isolated peaks lay a long range of mountains, dull black against the
blue sky, but with the white of snow caps showing even at this
distance.
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