oticed my horse occasionally nipped
a bunch and ate them, which seemed to me almost as heartless as to
tread them under foot.
When we got up the slope and into the woods again we met a storm, and
traveled for an hour in the rain, and under the dripping spruces,
feeling the cold wet sting of swaying branches as we rode by. Then the
sun came out bright and the forest glittered, all gold and green. The
smell of the woods after a rain is indescribable. It combines a rare
tang of pine, spruce, earth and air, all refreshed.
The day after, we left at eight o'clock, and rode down to the main
trail, and up that for five miles where we cut off to the left and
climbed into the timber. The woods were fresh and dewy, dark and cool,
and for a long time we climbed bench after bench where the grass and
ferns and moss made a thick, deep cover. Farther up we got into fallen
timber and made slow progress. At timber line we tied the horses and
climbed up to the pass between two great mountain ramparts. Sheep
tracks were in evidence, but not very fresh. Teague and I climbed on
top and R.C., with Vern, went below just along the timber line. The
climb on foot took all my strength, and many times I had to halt for
breath. The air was cold. We stole along the rim and peered over. R.C.
and Vern looked like very little men far below, and the dogs resembled
mice.
Teague climbed higher, and left me on a promontory, watching all
around.
The cloud pageant was magnificent, with huge billowy white masses
across the valley, and to the west great black thunderheads rolling
up. The wind began to blow hard, carrying drops of rain that stung,
and the air was nipping cold. I felt aloof from all the crowded world,
alone on the windy heights, with clouds and storm all around me.
When the storm threatened I went back to the horses. It broke, but
was not severe after all. At length R.C. and the men returned and we
mounted to ride back to camp. The storm blew away, leaving the sky
clear and blue, and the sun shone warm. We had an hour of winding in
and out among windfalls of timber, and jumping logs, and breaking
through brush. Then the way sloped down to a beautiful forest, shady
and green, full of mossy dells, almost overgrown with ferns and low
spreading ground pine or spruce. The aisles of the forest were long
and shaded by the stately spruces. Water ran through every ravine,
sometimes a brawling brook, sometimes a rivulet hidden under
overhanging
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