FOUNTAINS AND STREAMS 268 



sound was inconceivably deep and broad and ear- 

 nest, as if the whole earth, like a living creature, 

 had at last found a voice and were calling to her 

 sister planets. It seemed to me that if all the 

 thunder I ever heard were condensed into one 

 roar it would not equal this rock roar at the 

 birth of a mountain talus. Think, then, of the 

 roar that arose to heaven when all the thousands 

 of ancient canon taluses throughout the length 

 and breadth of the range were simultaneously 

 given birth. 



The main storm was soon over, and, eager to 

 see the new-born talus, I ran up the valley in the 

 moonlight and climbed it before the huge blocks, 

 after their wild fiery flight, had come to complete 

 rest. They were slowly settling into their places, 

 chafing, grating against one another, groaning, 

 and whispering ; but no motion was visible ex- 

 cept in a stream of small fragments pattering 

 down the face of the cliff at the head of the 

 talus. A cloud of dust particles, the smallest of 

 the boulders, floated out across the whole breadth 

 of the valley and formed a ceiling that lasted 

 until after sunrise ; and the air was loaded with 

 the odor of crushed Douglas spruces, from a 

 grove that had been mowed down and mashed 

 like weeds. 



Sauntering about to see what other changes 

 had been made, I found the Indians in the middle 

 of the valley, terribly frightened, of course, fear- 



