122 A-BIRDING ON A BRONCO. 



Guernseys wading in procession through the high 

 swamp grass to their out-door milking stand. 

 Beyond, a load of hay was crossing the meadows 

 with sun on the reins and the pitchforks the men 

 carried over their shoulders ; and beyond, at the 

 head of the valley, the western canyons were 

 filled with golden haze, while the last shafts of 

 yellow light loitered over the apricot orchards 

 below, where the tranquil birds were singing their 

 evening songs. Slowly the long shadows of the 

 mountain crept over orchard and vineyard until, 

 finally, the sun rounded the last peak and left 

 our little valley in darkness. 



