264 THE MOUNTAINS OF CALIFOKNIA 



The glad creek rose high above its banks and 

 wandered from its channel out over many a briery 

 sand-flat and meadow. Alders and willows waist- 

 deep were bearing up against the current with 

 nervous trembling gestures, as if afraid of being 

 carried away, while supple branches bending con 

 fidingly, dipped lightly and rose again, as if strok 

 ing the wild waters in play. Leaving the bridge 

 and passing on through the storm-thrashed woods, 

 all the ground seemed to be moving. Pine-tassels, 

 flakes of bark, soil, leaves, and broken branches 

 were being swept forward, and many a rock-frag 

 ment, weathered from exposed ledges, was now re 

 ceiving its first rounding and polishing in the wild 

 streams of the storm. On they rushed through 

 every gulch and hollow, leaping, gliding, working 

 with a will, and rejoicing like living creatures. 



Nor was the flood confined to the ground. Every 

 tree had a water system of its own spreading far 

 and wide like miniature Amazons and Mississippis. 



Toward midday, cloud, wind, and rain reached 

 their highest development. The storm was in full 

 bloom, and formed, from my commanding outlook 

 on the hilltop, one of the most glorious views I 

 ever beheld. As far as the eye could reach, above, 

 beneath, around, wind-driven rain filled the air like 

 one vast waterfall. Detached clouds swept impos 

 ingly up the valley, as if they were endowed with 

 independent motion and had special work to do in 

 replenishing the mountain wells, now rising above 

 the pine-tops, now descending into their midst, 

 fondling their arrowy spires and soothing every 

 branch and leaf with gentleness in the midst of all 



