STEEP TRAILS 



throughout the Sierra in general, is usually 

 varied by slight local rains and dustings of 

 snow, most of which are obviously far too joy- 

 ous and life-giving to be regarded as storms — 

 single clouds growing in the sunny sky, ripen- 

 ing in an hour, showering the heated landscape, 

 and passing away like a thought, leaving no 

 visible bodily remains to stain the sky. Snow- 

 storms of the same gentle kind abound among 

 the high peaks, but in spring they not unfre- 

 quently attain larger proportions, assuming a 

 violence and energy of expression scarcely sur- 

 passed by those bred in the depths of winter. 

 Such was the storm now gathering about us. 



It began to declare itself shortly after noon, 

 suggesting to us the idea of at once seeking 

 our safe camp in the timber and abandoning 

 the purpose of making an observation of the 

 barometer at 3 p.m., — two having already 

 been made, at 9 a.m., and 12 m., while simul- 

 taneous observations were made at Strawberry 

 Valley. Jerome peered at short intervals over 

 the ridge, contemplating the rising clouds with 

 anxious gestiu-es in the rough wind, and at 

 length declared that if we did not make a 

 speedy escape we should be compelled to pass 

 the rest of the day and night on the siunmit. 

 But anxiety to complete my observations 

 stifled my own instinctive promptings to re- 

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