GILBERT AND GOLDEN TROUT 183 



directly below us. A mis-step, and we too should 

 slide down, down to certain death among the far- 

 away flowers ; but the horses know well their 

 work ; sure-footed as goats they cling to every 

 available irregularity; rising up the steep shdes, 

 they bound up a few steps at a time, then rest a 

 moment to regain their wind. Wonderful little 

 wiry animals are these mountain ponies. No horse 

 reared in the plains could do such work ; the stiff 

 ehmbing, coupled with the high altitude, would 

 soon kill them. 



Long before we reach the pass 10,000 feet high, 

 we notice a great change in the trees. The tall 

 straight firs give way to shorter junipers whose 

 gnarled branches bear silent testimony to the awful 

 tempests which rage through the Sierras in winter 

 time, snow-laden hurricanes which prune the 

 weaklings, and often tear up huge trees whose 

 roots have lost their hold. How wonderful a sight 

 must these storms present if one could but witness 

 them from a place of security ; but these regions 

 are locked securely by the key of winter against all 

 intruders during nature's wildest revels. Why 

 should trees select such sites, when every inch of 

 growth is gained against such terrific odds ? Why 

 not choose the sheltered valleys where they could 

 live and thrive in peace ? Who shall say ? This 

 constant conflict between nature's different forces, 

 this striving after that which is most difficult of 

 attamment, seems to be one of the mysteries of 

 life. It is apparently this struggle which makes 

 life so well worth living, not for man alone, but for 

 many of the so-called lower forms of creation. 



