he stem, which is usually terminated
by one large bell-shaped flower; but its more beautiful companion, the
erythronium, has two radical leaves only, which are large and oval, and
shine like glass. They extend horizontally in opposite directions, and
form a beautiful glossy ground, over which the one large down-looking
flower is swung from a simple stem, the petals being strongly recurved,
like those of Lilium superbum. Occasionally a specimen is met which
has from two to five flowers hung in a loose panicle. People oftentimes
travel far to see curious plants like the carnivorous darlingtonia, the
fly-catcher, the walking fern, etc. I hardly know how the little bells
I have been describing would be regarded by seekers of this class, but
every true flower-lover who comes to consider these Utah lilies will
surely be well rewarded, however long the way.

Pushing on up the rugged slopes, I found many delightful
seclusions--moist nooks at the foot of cliffs, and lilies in every one
of them, not growing close together like daisies, but well apart, with
plenty of room for their bells to swing free and ring. I found hundreds
of them in full bloom within two feet of the snow. In winter only the
bulbs are alive, sleeping deep beneath the ground, like field mice in
their nests; then the snow-flowers fall above them, lilies over lilies,
until the spring winds blow, and these winter lilies wither in turn;
then the hiding erythroniums and fritillarias rise again, responsive to
the first touches of the sun.

I noticed the tracks of deer in many places among the lily gardens, and
at the height of about seven thousand feet I came upon the fresh trail
of a flock of wild sheep, showing that these fine mountaineers still
flourish here above the range of Mormon rifles. In the planting of
her wild gardens, Nature takes the feet and teeth of her flocks into
account, and makes use of them to trim and cultivate, and keep them in
order, as the bark and buds of the tree are tended by woodpeckers and
linnets.

The evergreen woods consist, as far as I observed, of two species,
a spruce and a fir, standing close together, erect and arrowy in a
thrifty, compact growth; but they are quite small, say from six to
twelve or fourteen inches in diameter, and bout forty feet in height.
Among their giant relatives of the Sierra the very largest would seem
mere saplings. A considerable portion of the south side of the mountain
is planted with a species of