STEEP TRAILS 



tend with the richest, most self-possessed and 

 uncompromising chaparral I have ever enjoyed 

 since first my mountaineering began. 



For a hundred feet or so the ascent was prac 

 ticable only by means of bosses of the club moss 

 that clings to the rock. Above this the ridge is 

 weathered away to a slender knife-edge for a 

 distance of two or three hundred yards, and 

 thence to the summit it is a bristly mane of 

 chaparral. Here and there small openings 

 occur, commanding grand views of the valley 

 and beyond to the ocean. These are favorite 

 outlooks and resting-places for the wild ani 

 mals, in particular for bears, wolves, and wild 

 cats. In the densest places I came upon wood- 

 rat villages whose huts were from four to eight 

 feet high, built hi the same style of architec 

 ture as those of the muskrats. 



The day was nearly done. I reached the 

 summit and I had tune to make only a hasty 

 survey of the topography of the wild basin 

 now outspread maplike beneath, and to drink 

 in the rare loveliness of the sunlight before 

 hastening down in search of water. Pushing 

 through another mile of chaparral, I emerged 

 into one of the most beautiful parklike groves 

 of live oak I ever saw. The ground beneath 

 was planted only with aspidiums and brier 

 roses. At the foot of the grove I came to the 



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