In the Sierra 



was to get away from the gray, grim crowd 

 and see them vanish down the trail! Yet it 

 seems sad to feel such desperate repulsion 

 from one's fellow beings, however degraded. 

 To prefer the society of squirrels and wood- 

 chucks to that of our own species must surely 

 be unnatural. So with a fresh breeze and a 

 hill or mountain between us I must wish 

 them Godspeed and try to pray and sing with 

 Burns, " It 's coming yet, for a' that, that man 

 to man, the warld o'er, shall brothers be for 

 a' that." 



How the day passed I hardly know. By 

 the map I have come only about ten or 

 twelve miles, though the sun is already low 

 in the west, showing how long I must 

 have lingered, observing, sketching, taking 

 notes among the glaciated rocks and mo- 

 raines and Alpine flower-beds. 



At sundown the sombre crags and peaks 

 were inspired with the ineffable beauty of 

 the alpenglow, and a solemn, awful still- 

 ness hushed everything in the landscape. 



[ 295 ] 



