on perilous logs or buried knee-deep beneath the rushing waters of the
ford, skirting sky-reflecting lakes, hiding beneath summer snowbanks, or
traversing waste highlands, marked only by the cairns that lift their
welcome heads against the sky. Underfoot there is the needle carpet,
springy ground, shoe-cutting rocks, or deep-trodden dust, where the
wayfarer comes to the journey's end a monument of ghostly gray. Overhead
is always the tender blue of the summer California sky, with here and
there a snowy cloud, for contrast's sake. Most impressive is the trail
that clambers among the snow-clad heights, where the chilling air of the
peaks makes the blood run fast and the heart rejoice; its beauty most
appreciable where it follows brawling brooks and shadowed valleys, or
meanders among woods, pillared with great trees and roofed with swaying
boughs, ever and anon emerging into tiny, exquisite glades. Such is the
Sierra trail, each mile a thing of individual charm and happy memory.

The physical ways and means of the outing are as near perfect as may be
where one hundred and twenty humans are turned loose in the wilderness.
The perfection is, of course, the outgrowth of long experience and
careful planning. Pack-trains take in the provisions well in advance;
the day's "hike" is laid out, and "grub" is in waiting when the
allotted number of miles lie behind; side trips are arranged, and when
there is climbing of consequence, experienced leaders pilot the way. And
yet, withal, the month-long holiday is far from being disagreeably "cut
and dried," and there seems always sufficient opportunity for freedom to
satisfy individual tastes. Nor, because of the numbers, need one lack
privacy; on the trail and at camp the excursionist may restrict himself
to his own unimpeachable society, he may join a small group of chosen
spirits, or associate with the general unit. In short, there is
opportunity to satisfy every taste on a Sierra Club outing, which holds
equally true of the other mountain organizations of the Coast, each of
which conducts admirable activities in its chosen field.

The last bright recollection of that Sierra summer is the camp-fire
which closed the final day--and all camp-fires are pleasant memories. It
was beneath the mighty trees of the Giant Forest that we spent the final
night, the light of our blaze insignificant 'midst the shadows of these
huge trunks, the quiet summer night all about. The inner circle of faces