Beyond an infinite ocean of low, broken 

 peaks, sank the sun. It was a wonderful sun- 

 set effect in that mountain-dotted, mountain- 

 walled plain, the San Luis Valley. Mist- 

 wreathed peaks rose from the plain, one side 

 glowing in burning gold, the other bannered 

 with black shadows. The low, ragged clouds 

 dragged slanting shadows across the golden 

 pale. A million slender silver threads were flung 

 out in a measureless horizontal fan from the 

 far-away sun. The sunset from the summit of 

 Sierra Blanca was the grandest that I have ever 

 seen. The prismatic brilliancy played on peak 

 and cloud, then changed into purple, fading 

 into misty gray, while the light of this strong 

 mountain day slowly vanished in the infinite 

 silence of a perfect mountain night. 



Then came the serious business of getting 

 down and off the rough slope and out of the 

 inky woods before darkness took complete pos- 

 session. After intense vigilance and effort for 

 two hours, I emerged from the forest-robed 

 slope and started across the easy, sloping plain 

 beneath a million stars. 



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