essed flowers, by the snowdrifts
that have so long lain upon them. The winter winds at this place blow
almost constantly from the same quarter for days at a time, and often
attain a high velocity. The effect of these winds is strikingly shown
by the trees. None of the trees are tall, and most of them are
leaning, pushed partly over by the wind. Some are sprawled on the
ground like uncouth vines or spread out from the stump like a fan
with the onsweeping direction of the storms. Most of the standing,
unsheltered trees have limbs only on the leeward quarter, all the
other limbs having been blown off by the wind or cut off by the
wind-blown gravel. Most of the exposed trees are destitute of bark
on the portion of the trunk that faces these winter winds. Some of
the dead standing trees are carved into strange totem-poles by the
sand-blasts of many fierce storms. With all the trees warped or
distorted, the effect of timber-line is weird and strange.

Harriet and I got off the ponies the better to examine some of the
storm-beaten trees. Harriet was attracted to a few dwarf spruces that
were standing in a drift of recently fallen snow. Although these
dwarfed little trees were more than a hundred years old, they were so
short that the little mountain-climber who stood by them was taller
than they. After stroking one of the trees with her hand, Harriet
stood for a time in silence, then out of her warm childish nature she
said, "What brave little trees to live up here where they have to
stand all the time in the snow!" Timber-line, with its strange tree
statuary and treeless snowy peaks and crags rising above it, together
with its many kinds of bird and animal life and its flower-fringed
snowdrifts, is one of nature's most expressive exhibits, and I wish
every one might visit it. At an altitude of about eleven thousand
seven hundred feet we came to the last tree. It was ragged, and so
small that you could have hidden it beneath a hat. It nestled up to a
boulder, and appeared so cold and pitiful that Harriet wanted to know
if it was lost. It certainly appeared as if it had been lost for a
long, long time.

Among the crags Harriet and I kept sharp watch for mountain sheep, but
we did not see any. We were fortunate enough, however, to see a flock
of ptarmigan. These birds were huddled in a hole which narrowly
escaped being trampled on by Top. They walked quietly away, and we had
a good look at them. They were almost white; in wint