one o'clock
She climbed easily and steadily , stopping for brief rests . Early in the week she had ridden down to the village , where she had bought climbing breeches and stout leggings . She laughed at Albert Edward and his fears . By one o'clock she had reached Boulder Field . She found the rocks glazed with ice . Just over Keyhole , that freakish vent in a wall of rock , the blue of the sky had changed to the gray of snow-clouds . Tenderfoot though she was , she knew that the climb over Boulder Field would be perilous , if not impossible .