184 WILD LIFE AND THE CAMERA 



As we reach the wind-swept pass the curious 

 growth of the trees is even more impressive than 

 lower down ; many are merely twisted, distorted 

 trunks with a single and almost leafless branch 

 struggling bravely on the sheltered side, hugging 

 closely the grim parent that has given it birth. 

 The ground is almost utterly bare of vegetation, the 

 very soil has been blown away, leaving the rocks 

 exposed and naked, smoothly polished by the wind- 

 blown sand and gravel. Beyond this rugged fore- 

 ground of conflict how great is the change valley 

 after valley, green, smiling and peaceful, nestling 

 among the countless mountains, whose peaks of 

 endless shapes and sizes continue beyond man's 

 vision even in that clear, keen atmosphere. Some 

 are so high that their summits are still in their 

 winter garment of immaculate snow. Directly below 

 is our goal, the valley of the Kern River, the excuse 

 which has brought us through this land of enchant- 

 ment. Three thousand miles or more of hot and 

 dusty railway travel, and here we see it, a tiny 

 silver line, twisting in sinuous ways through gorge 

 and valley, thousands of feet below us. A still 

 smaller glint of silver coming into the Kern River, 

 we are told is Volcano Creek, the home of the 

 golden trout, the fish whose name and beauty 

 has lured us to forsake the beaten trails and seek 

 this far distant spot. But we must not linger on 

 the mountain top, beautiful though the view is ; the 

 lengthening shadows are darkening the valleys, we 

 have still many miles to go before reaching the 

 Kern River. 



The trail leads steadily downward, so steep in 



