But the fascination of it was only a vague realization, and the danger
was laughed at.

Over Bent Wade's quiet form the shadows played, the spruce boughs waved,
the piny needles rustled down, the wind moaned louder as the night
advanced. By and by the horses rested from their grazing; the insects
ceased to hum; and the continuous roar of water dominated the solitude.
If wild animals passed Wade's camp they gave it a wide berth.

* * * * *

Sunrise found Wade on the trail, climbing high up above the lake, making
for the pass over the range. He walked, leading his horses up a zigzag
trail that bore the tracks of recent travelers. Although this country
was sparsely settled, yet there were men always riding from camp to camp
or from one valley town to another. Wade never tarried on a
well-trodden trail.

As he climbed higher the spruce-trees grew smaller, no longer forming a
green aisle before him, and at length they became dwarfed and stunted,
and at last failed altogether. Soon he was above timber-line and out
upon a flat-topped mountain range, where in both directions the land
rolled and dipped, free of tree or shrub, colorful with grass and
flowers. The elevation exceeded eleven thousand feet. A whipping wind
swept across the plain-land. The sun was pale-bright in the east, slowly
being obscured by gray clouds. Snow began to fall, first in scudding,
scanty flakes, but increasing until the air was full of a great, fleecy
swirl. Wade rode along the rim of a mountain wall, watching a beautiful
snow-storm falling into the brown gulf beneath him. Once as he headed
round a break he caught sight of mountain-sheep cuddled under a
protecting shelf. The snow-squall blew away, like a receding wall,
leaving grass and flowers wet. As the dark clouds parted, the sun shone
warmer out of the blue. Gray peaks, with patches of white, stood up
above their black-timbered slopes.

Wade soon crossed the flat-topped pass over the range and faced a
descent, rocky and bare at first, but yielding gradually to the
encroachment of green. He left the cold winds and bleak trails above
him. In an hour, when he was half down the slope, the forest had become
warm and dry, fragrant and still. At length he rode out upon the brow of
a last wooded bench above a grassy valley, where a bright, winding
stream gleamed in the sun. While the horses rested Wade looked about
him. Nature never tired him. If he had any peace it e