THE STREETS OF THE MOUNTAINS 



down slope, as you may also see in hill- 

 side pines, where they have borne the 

 weight of sagging drifts. 



Well up from the valley, at the conflu- 

 ence of caiions, are delectable summer 

 meadows. Fireweed flames about them 

 against the gray boulders; streams are 

 open, go smoothly about the glacier slips 

 and make deep bluish pools for trout. 

 Pines raise statelier shafts and give them- 

 selves room to grow, — gentians, shinleaf, 

 and little grass of Parnassus in their 

 golden checkered shadows ; the meadow is 

 white with violets and all outdoors keeps 

 the clock. For example, when the ripples 

 at the ford of the creek raise a clear half 

 tone, — sign that the snow water has come 

 down from the heated high ridges, — it is 

 time to light the evening fire. When it 

 drops off a note — but you will not know 

 193 



