In the Sierra 



haps before. I once saw a lamb only a few 

 hours old approach a shallow stream about 

 two feet wide and an inch deep, after it had 

 walked only about a hundred yards on its life 

 journey. All the flock to which it belonged 

 had crossed this inch-deep stream, and as the 

 mother and her lamb were the last to cross, 

 I had a good opportunity to observe them. 

 As soon as the flock was out of the way, the 

 anxious mother crossed over and called the 

 youngster. It walked cautiously to the brink, 

 gazed at the water, bleated piteously, and 

 refused to venture. The patient mother went 

 back to it again and again to encourage it, but 

 long without avail. Like the pilgrim on Jor- 

 dan's stormy bank it feared to launch away. 

 At length gathering its trembling inexpe- 

 rienced legs for the mighty effort, throwing 

 up its head as if it knew all about drowning, 

 and was anxious to keep its nose above water, 

 it made the tremendous leap, and landed 

 in the middle of the inch-deep stream. It 

 seemed astonished to find that, instead of 



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