Elysian Fields I51 
instinct in plants is one of the most aston- 
ishing things in Nature: that being quite in- 
sufficient in themselves they should thus 
manage to get things done for them and to 
travel about the country, crossing rivers and 
mountain chains. Some are mountaineers 
and some plainsmen; others, river people or 
desert tribes, but all follow their fancies and 
settle according to their liking. 
This oak flat at the foot of the San Marcos 
was settled by a flourishing colony of cream- 
cups, which in place of having come over the 
pass, were perhaps bent in that direction. 
Myriads of them nodded together on the green, 
a dainty host indeed with whom even one who 
abhorred crowds might find it a rare pleas- 
ure to mingle. The road here runs through 
pleasant woods and presently leads into the 
enchanted country. Here is the land of the 
yellow pansy. Not in thousands, but in mil- 
lions and in trillions they spread over the fields 
and along the road. Splendid flowers they 
are—the rich yellow petals spotted with purple 
and brown—peopling the grass with upturned 
faces. Delicate blue larkspurs, phacelias, and 
pale gilias bordered the road, and with such 
select and beautiful company by the way, 
I came at length to the pleasant valley upon 
