of 



From the top of a granite crag I surveyed the 

 green scene of life and the surrounding sweep of 

 desolation. Here and there a sodden log smoul- 

 dered in the ashen distance and supported a 

 tower of smoke in the still air. A few miles to 

 the east, among the scattered trees of a rocky 

 summit, the fire was burning itself out: to the 

 west the sun was sinking behind crags and snow ; 

 near-by, on a blackened limb, a south-bound 

 robin chattered volubly but hopelessly. 

 ' While I was listening, thinking, and watching, 

 a mountain lion appeared and leaped lightly 

 upon a block of granite. He was on my right, 

 about one hundred feet away and about an 

 equal distance from the shore of the nearest 

 pond. He was interested in the approach of 

 something. With a nervous switching of his 

 tail he peered eagerly forward over the crown 

 of the ridge just before him, and then crouched 

 tensely and expectantly upon his rock. 



A pine tree that had escaped the fire screened 

 the place toward which the lion looked and 

 where something evidently was approaching. 

 While I was trying to discover what it could be, 



28 



