on 



with what from a distance seems to be a gigantic 

 picket-fence. This fence is formed by a row of 

 monolithic stones. 



One of the most remarkable things connected 

 with this strange locality is that its impressive 

 landscapes may be overturned or blotted out, or 

 new scenes may be brought forth, in a day. The 

 mountains do not stand a storm well. A hard 

 rain will dissolve ridges, lay bare new strata, un- 

 dermine and overturn cliffs. It seems almost a 

 land of enchantment, where old landmarks may 

 disappear in a single storm, or an impressive 

 landscape come forth in a night. Here the god 

 of erosion works incessantly and rapidly, dissect- 

 ing the earth and the rocks. During a single storm 

 a hilltop may dissolve, a mountain-side be fluted 

 with slides, a grove be overturned and swept 

 away by an avalanche, or a lake be buried forever. 

 This rapid erosion of slopes and summits causes 

 many changes and much upbuilding upon their 

 bases. Gulches are filled, water-courses invaded, 

 rivers bent far to one side, and groves slowly 

 buried alive. 



One night, while I was in camp on the slope 

 246 



