THE STORM ON THE MOUNTAIN-TOP. 59 



tains was a view of the plains far to the east, which, 

 with the rough, rock-girt frame, presented a picture 

 as of the field of the cloth of gold. The purple hills 

 made a rich, dark foreground, while the golden sun- 

 light flecked the prairie with the colour of living 

 fire. 



So entranced with the scene were they that the 

 flight of time was forgotten, and when they returned 

 to mundane things they realised that if they wished 

 to camp where there was grass and water, they would 

 have to be finding a way down to timber-line. Spend- 

 ing an hour in this effort, they again glanced at the 

 beautiful scene ; but now all was changed. A mass 

 of clouds, through which lightning played, and which 

 grew denser and denser as it came, was rolling up 

 the valley of the Pecos. Flash after flash could be 

 seen, and then faintly came the sound of thunder. 



The sight was interesting, and as they watched it 

 their attention was called to the other side of the 

 range by an answering reverberation. Looking 

 down the Canadian valley, to the north, they saw 

 another storm-cloud rolling towards the ridge upon 

 which they stood. As the storms approached nearer 

 and nearer they discovered that they would soon be 

 in the midst of a battle of the elements. 



The sky became overcast and it grew dark. The 

 play of lightning became fiercer and fiercer on both 

 sides, and the peals of thunder soon merged into one 

 continuous roar. Peal was answered by peal, and 

 the echoes took up the terrible sound and sent it on 

 and on until all space seemed filled with the tumul- 

 tuous noise. There came a gust of wind, and then 



