A MARMOT'S THOUGHTS. 85 



to reach. It is only about forty feet in height, 

 but sheer and precipitous. The trees and shrubs 

 and herbs grow from or cling to its very edge, 

 but not from crevices in the rocks, for the cliff 

 is composed only of clay and gravel. On its 

 surface, back from the edge, a wire-grass flour- 

 ishes as the soil is too shaded and barren to 

 support the Kentucky blue-grass. The stream 

 meanders in the valley below and flows at its 

 very base, but the gushing spring is absent. 



Down in the valley a marmot is the only form 

 of animate creature in view. Of what is that 

 marmot's brain a thinking, as its owner rests 

 on the fallen branch of an oak? Of its break- 

 fast not yet gathered ? Of another marmot, one 

 of the opposite sex, for which it waits ? Of its 

 progeny, safely sheltered in the burrow at the 

 base of cliff ? Of two things it does not think 

 of the passage of time of the eternity which 

 lies beyond. Those are left for animals called 

 humans to ponder o'er. Perchance it scents dan- 

 ger, as did its fellow marmot, which a few min- 

 utes ago came running towards me, then sud- 

 denly paused, sat upright, sniffed the air, gazed 



