g were the only things that caused the electrical effects to be
forgotten even momentarily. The clouds formed into a long, solid,
rounded range that rose to great height and was miles in length. The
southern end of this range was in the haze, and I could not make out
its outline further south than a point about opposite Loveland,
Colorado, nor could I see the northern end beyond a few miles north of
Cheyenne, where it was cut off by a dozen strata of low clouds that
moved steadily at a right angle to the east. Sixty miles of length was
visible. Its height, like that of the real mountains which it
paralleled, diminished toward the north. The place of greatest
altitude was about twenty-five miles distant from me. From my
location, the clouds presented a long and smoothly terraced slope, the
top of which was at least five thousand feet and may have been fifteen
thousand feet above me. The clouds seemed compact; at times they
surged upwards; then they would settle with a long, undulating swell,
as if some unseen power were trying to force them further up the
mountains, while they were afraid to try it. Finally a series of low,
conical peaks rose on the summit of the cloud-range, and the peaks and
the upper cloud-slope resembled the upper portion of a circus-tent.
There were no rough places or angles.

When darkness came on, the surface of this cloud-range was at times
splendidly illuminated by electricity beneath; and, when the darkness
deepened, the electrical play beneath often caused the surface to
shine momentarily like incandescent glass, and occasionally sinuous
rivers of gold ran over the slopes. Several times I thought that the
course of these golden rivers of electrical fire was from the bottom
upward, but so brilliant and dazzling were they that I could not
positively decide on the direction of their movement. Never have I
seen such enormous cloud-forms or such brilliant electrical effects.

The summit of Specimen Mountain, from which I watched the clouds and
electrical flashes, is about twelve thousand five hundred feet above
sea-level. A calm prevailed while I remained on top. It was about
8.30 P. M. when I left the summit, on snowshoes, and swept down the
steep northern slope into the woods. This hurry caused no unusual
heart or muscle action.

The next morning was cloudy as low down as ten thousand five hundred
feet, and, for all I know, lower still. The night had been warm, and
the morning had the oppressi