a floor."

Groups of large evergreens afforded a refreshing shade. Underneath the
trees an immense, flat rock, covered with a snowy table-cloth and
trimmed with vines and flowers, gave hint of some of the more
substantial pleasures to be looked for later. At a distance gleamed
the silvery cascades, their rainbow-tinted spray rising in a perpetual
cloud of beauty. Far below could be seen the winding, canyon road,
while above and beyond, on all sides, the mountains reared their
glistening crests against the sky.

For a time they gave themselves up to the enjoyment of the scene,
till, at Miss Gladden's suggestion, the tuning of the various
instruments began, interspersed with jokes and merry, rippling
laughter. Amidst the general merriment, Houston, with an air of great
gravity, produced from his pocket the different parts of a flute,
which he proceeded to fit together, saying:

"When you were speaking last evening about the music for to-day I had
entirely forgotten the existence of this flute, but after we went to
our room, Ned persisted in practicing on that unmusical instrument of
his, and in searching in my trunk for a weapon of self defense, I
found this, and it answered my purpose so well then, I brought it with
me to-day."

The music was a success, and it seemed as though the musicians would
never grow weary, but when, at Miss Gladden's request, Lyle sang
"Kathleen Mavourneen," her sweet, rich tones blending with the wild,
plaintive notes of the violin, her listeners again seemed entranced by
the witchery of the music, as on the night when first they heard her
sing, and were only aroused by the sound of hearty, prolonged cheering
from the canyon below.

Looking over the edge of the plateau, they discovered a party of about
a dozen people, in a wagon drawn by six horses, who had stopped to
listen to the music, and give their panting animals a chance to rest.
Behind them was a line of three or four pack mules, laden with tents,
cooking utensils and bedding.

"A camping party!" exclaimed Lyle, "the first of the season; they are
on their way to Strawberry gulch."

On catching sight of the group above on the plateau, the ladies below
began waving their handkerchiefs, and the gentlemen were loud in their
cheers and calls for more music.

"Give them another song, Miss Maverick," said Rutherford, "that is a
decided encore."

Once more raising her violin, Lyle sang "The Maid of Dundee," and
never did song or si