ten o'clock
The mists of the mountains were also rising , and on every hand were weird , ghostlike shadows which enhanced this scene of wild desolation . On and on went the white members of the party , doing their best to keep the sturdy Indian pack-carriers well in sight . But the red people , with their hideously painted faces , knew every foot of the way , and made rapid progress , and it was all the others could do at times to keep up . By ten o'clock it began to grow colder , and even the boys could feel the crust of snow on which they were trudging becoming firmer beneath their feet . It was far from dark , a pale glimmer of light hanging on every mountain top . But now the trail became suddenly steeper , and they found themselves going straight up the side of a hill several hundred feet high . `` Plant your feet firmly at every step , '' were Foster Portney 's words of caution .