nciting at
once to work and rest! Days in whose light everything seems equally
divine, opening a thousand windows to show us God. Nevermore, however
weary, should one faint by the way who gains the blessings of one
mountain day; whatever his fate, long life, short life, stormy or calm,
he is rich forever.

_June 24._ Our regular allowance of clouds and thunder. Shepherd Billy
is in a peck of trouble about the sheep; he declares that they are
possessed with more of the evil one than any other flock from the
beginning of the invention of mutton and wool to the last batch of it.
No matter how many are missing, he will not, he says, go a step to seek
them, because, as he reasons, while getting back one wanderer he would
probably lose ten. Therefore runaway hunting must be Carlo's and mine.
Billy's little dog Jack is also giving trouble by leaving camp every
night to visit his neighbors up the mountain at Brown's Flat. He is a
common-looking cur of no particular breed, but tremendously enterprising
in love and war. He has cut all the ropes and leather straps he has been
tied with, until his master in desperation, after climbing the brushy
mountain again and again to drag him back, fastened him with a pole
attached to his collar under his chin at one end, and to a stout sapling
at the other. But the pole gave good leverage, and by constant twisting
during the night, the fastening at the sapling end was chafed off, and
he set out on his usual journey, dragging the pole through the brush,
and reached the Indian settlement in safety. His master followed, and
making no allowance, gave him a beating, and swore in bad terms that
next evening he would "fix that infatuated pup" by anchoring him
unmercifully to the heavy cast-iron lid of our Dutch oven, weighing
about as much as the dog. It was linked directly to his collar close up
under the chin, so that the poor fellow seemed unable to stir. He stood
quite discouraged until after dark, unable to look about him, or even to
lie down unless he stretched himself out with his front feet across the
lid, and his head close down between his paws. Before morning, however,
Jack was heard far up the height howling Excelsior, cast-iron anchor to
the contrary notwithstanding. He must have walked, or rather climbed,
erect on his hind legs, clasping the heavy lid like a shield against his
breast, a formidable iron-clad condition in which to meet his rivals.
Next night, dog, pot-lid, and all, were