st, one caught glimpses of the
endless plains covered with the autumn haze and golden in the morning
sunlight.

The grandeur of the scenery, the roar of the brook in deep canyons
below, whose echo he caught from afar, the exhilarating ride, the
fresh morning breeze, combined with the spiritual experiences of his
nature, which were daily deepening, to rouse all the poetry in Job's
soul, of which he had more than the average rough country lad who rode
over those eternal hills. He shouted, he whistled patriotic airs and
snatches of the popular songs he heard on the Gold City streets; then
the old songs of church and the heart-life came to him, and he sang
them, while he laid his head over on Bess' neck as she silently
climbed ever higher and higher.

Suddenly Bess gave a start that nearly threw him, as the delicate form
of a deer rose behind a fallen tree. For an instant the beautiful
animal stood looking with great soft eyes in a bewildered stare at the
cause of his sudden awakening, then plunged his horns into the bushes
and leaped away down the mountain-side.

Job quickly reached for his rifle, only to discover what he well
knew--that it was far away at home; of which he was glad as he thought
of those tender, pleading eyes, and a great love for the harmless
creature, the forests, the mountains and all the world welled up in
his soul. "My!" he said, "I'd like to hug that deer! I'd like to hug
everything, everybody! I used to hate them; I would even hug Dan.
Bess, dear old girl, I'll just love you!" and he flung his arms around
her neck and hummed away as they passed up the hill.

Soon a turn in the road brought them to the summit, where for a moment
the trees part and one catches glimpses of the long winding road over
which one has come, and the ever-rolling forests beyond, climbing far
up to a still higher ridge that reaches toward the Yosemite and the
high Sierras. The view thrilled Job. The psalm he had learned for last
Sunday came to him. He repeated it solemnly with cap off, as he sat
still on Bess' back: "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from
whence cometh my help; my help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven
and earth."

[Illustration: "Father of the Forest," Calaveras Grove.]

Only a moment be paused, and then started on a gallop down the hill.
The ring of Bess' feet on the hard road scared the shy gray squirrels,
which ran chattering up the tall pines, leaving their feast of nuts on
the groun