My First Summer 



Then I crept into a hollow by the side of 

 a small lake near the head of the canon, 

 smoothed a sheltered spot, and gathered a 

 few pine tassels for a bed. After the short 

 twilight began to fade I kindled a sunny 

 fire, made a tin cupful of tea, and lay down 

 to watch the stars. Soon the night-wind 

 began to flow from the snowy peaks over- 

 head, at first only a gentle breathing, then 

 gaining strength, in less than an hour rum- 

 bled in massive volume something like a 

 boisterous stream in a boulder-choked chan- 

 nel, roaring and moaning down the canon 

 as if the work it had to do was tremen- 

 dously important and fateful ; and mingled 

 with these storm tones were those of the 

 waterfalls on the north side of the canon, 

 now sounding distinctly, now smothered 

 by the heavier cataracts of air, making a 

 glorious psalm of savage wildness. My fire 

 squirmed and struggled as if ill at ease, for 

 though in a sheltered nook, detached masses 

 of icy wind often fell like icebergs on top 



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