fires led me to abandon the most 

 nearly ideal journey through the wilds I 

 had ever embarked upon, but the conflagra- 

 tions that took me aside filled a series of my 

 days and nights with wild, fiery exhibitions and 

 stirring experiences. It was early September 

 and I had started southward along the crest of 

 the continental divide of the Rocky Mountains 

 in northern Colorado. All autumn was to be 

 mine and upon this alpine skyline I was to 

 saunter southward, possibly to the land of cac- 

 tus and mirage. Not being commanded by 

 either the calendar or the compass, no day was 

 to be marred by hurrying. I was just to linger 

 and read all the nature stories in the heights that 

 I could comprehend or enjoy. From my start- 

 ing-place, twelve thousand feet above the tides, 

 miles of continental slopes could be seen that 

 sent their streams east and west to the two far- 

 off seas. With many a loitering advance, with 



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