sleeping sound as death.

CHAPTER XI

BACK TO THE LOWLANDS

_September 9._ Weariness rested away and I feel eager and ready for
another excursion a month or two long in the same wonderful wilderness.
Now, however, I must turn toward the lowlands, praying and hoping Heaven
will shove me back again.

The most telling thing learned in these mountain excursions is the
influence of cleavage joints on the features sculptured from the general
mass of the range. Evidently the denudation has been enormous, while the
inevitable outcome is subtle balanced beauty. Comprehended in general
views, the features of the wildest landscape seem to be as harmoniously
related as the features of a human face. Indeed, they look human and
radiate spiritual beauty, divine thought, however covered and concealed
by rock and snow.

Mr. Delaney has hardly had time to ask me how I enjoyed my trip, though
he has facilitated and encouraged my plans all summer, and declares I'll
be famous some day, a kind guess that seems strange and incredible to a
wandering wilderness-lover with never a thought or dream of fame while
humbly trying to trace and learn and enjoy Nature's lessons.

The camp stuff is now packed on the horses, and the flock is headed for
the home ranch. Away we go, down through the pines, leaving the lovely
lawn where we have camped so long. I wonder if I'll ever see it again.
The sod is so tough and close it is scarcely at all injured by the
sheep. Fortunately they are not fond of silky glacier meadow grass. The
day is perfectly clear, not a cloud or the faintest hint of a cloud is
visible, and there is no wind. I wonder if in all the world, at a height
of nine thousand feet, weather so steadily, faithfully calm and bright
and hospitable may anywhere else be found. We are going away fearing
destructive storms, though it is difficult to conceive weather changes
so great.

Though the water is now low in the river, the usual difficulty occurred
in getting the flock across it. Every sheep seemed to be invincibly
determined to die any sort of dry death rather than wet its feet. Carlo
has learned the sheep business as perfectly as the best shepherd, and it
is interesting to watch his intelligent efforts to push or frighten the
silly creatures into the water. They had to be fairly crowded and shoved
over the bank; and when at last one crossed because it could not push
its way back, the whole flock suddenly plunged in headlong to