Letters to a Friend 



compacted in any way we of course had a 

 splendid season of wading. 



I wish that you could have seen the edge of 

 the snow-cloud which hovered, oh, so sooth 

 ingly, down to the grand Pilot Peak brows, dis 

 charging its heaven-begotten snows with such 

 unmistakable gentleness and moving perhaps 

 with conscious love from pine to pine as if be 

 stowing separate and independent blessings up 

 on each. In a few hours we climbed under and 

 into this glorious storm-cloud. What a harvest 

 of crystal flowers and what wind songs were 

 gathered from the spiry firs and the long fringy 

 arms of the Lambert pine ! We could not see far 

 before us in the storm, which lasted until some 

 time in the night, but as I was familiar with the 

 general map of the mountain we had no diffi 

 culty in finding our way. 



Crane's Flat Cabin was buried, and we had 

 to grope about for the door. After making a fire 

 with some cedar rails, I went out to watch the 

 coming-on of the darkness, which was most im 

 pressively sublime. Next morning was every 

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