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Sinclair, Bertrand W., 1881-1972

"North of Fifty-Three"

Lord, I'll be glad to get out of these rocks!
You'll never catch me coming in this way again. It's sure tough going.
And I've been scared to death for a week, thinking we couldn't get
through."
"But we can?"
"Yes, easy," he assured. "Take the glasses and look. That flat we
left our outfit in runs pretty well to the top, about two miles along.
Then there's a notch in the ridge that you can't get with the naked
eye, and a wider canon running down into the basin. It's the only
decent break in the divide for fifty miles so far as I can see. This
backbone runs to high mountains both north and south of us--like the
great wall of China. We're lucky to hit this pass."
"Suppose we couldn't get over here?" Hazel asked. "What if there
hadn't been a pass?"
"That was beginning to keep me awake nights," he confessed. "I've been
studying this rock wall for a week. It doesn't look good from the east
side, but it's worse on the west, and I couldn't seem to locate the gap
I spotted from the basin one time. And if we couldn't get through, it
meant a hundred miles or more back south around that white peak you
see. Over a worse country than we've come through--and no cinch on
getting over at that.


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