In the Sierra 



moth Mountain, to the south of Gibbs and 

 Bloody Canon, striped and spotted with 

 snow-banks and clumps of dwarf pine, was 

 also favored with a glorious crimson cap, in 

 the making of which there was no trace of 

 economy, - - a huge bossy pile colored with 

 a perfect passion of crimson, that seemed 

 important enough to be sent off to burn 

 among the stars in majestic independence. 

 One is constantly reminded of the infinite 

 lavishness and fertility of Nature, - -inex- 

 haustible abundance amid what seems enor- 

 mous waste. And yet when we look into 

 any of her operations that lie within reach 

 of our minds, we learn that no particle of 

 her material is wasted or worn out. It is 

 eternally flowing from use to use, beauty 

 to yet higher beauty ; and we soon cease to 

 lament waste and death, and rather rejoice 

 and exult in the imperishable, unspendable 

 wealth of the universe, and faithfully watch 

 and wait the reappearance of everything 

 that melts and fades and dies about us, feel- 



[ 325 ] 



