My First Summer 



to be caught by them, and as for Indians, 

 they don't want him. 



August 23. Cool, bright day, hinting 

 Indian summer. Mr. Delaney has gone to 

 the Smith Ranch, on the Tuolumne below 

 Hetch-Hetchy Valley, thirty-five or forty 

 miles from here, so I '11 be alone for a week 

 or more, not really alone, for Carlo has 

 come back. He was at a camp a few miles 

 to the northwestward. He looked sheep- 

 ish and ashamed when I asked him where 

 he had been and why he had gone away 

 without leave. He is now trying to get me 

 to caress him and show signs of forgiveness. 

 A wondrous wise dog. A great load is off 

 my mind. I could not have left the moun- 

 tains without him. He seems very glad to 

 get back to me. 



Rose and crimson sunset, and soon after 

 the stars appeared the moon rose in most 

 impressive majesty over the top of Mt. Dana. 

 I sauntered up the meadow in the white 

 light. The jet-black tree-shadows were so 

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