STEEP TRAILS 



view, and the outlines of the mountain are 

 ever changing, though all the way around, from 

 whatever point of view, the form is maintained 

 of a grand, simple cone with a gently sloping 

 base and rugged, crumbling ridges separating 

 the glaciers and the snow-fields more or less 

 completely. The play of colors, from the first 

 touches of the morning sun on the sunamit, 

 down the snow-fields and the ice and lava until 

 the forests are aglow, is a never-ending deUght, 

 the rosy lava and the fine flushings of the snow 

 being ineffably lovely. Thus one saunters on 

 and on in the glorious radiance in utter peace 

 and forgetfulness of time. 



Yet, strange to say, there are days even here 

 somewhat dull-looking, when the mountain 

 seems unconamunicative, sending out no appre- 

 ciable invitation, as if not at home. At such 

 times its height seems much less, as if, crouch- 

 ing and weary, it were taking rest. But Shasta 

 is always at home to those who love her, and 

 is ever in a thrill of enthusiastic activity — 

 burning fires within, grinding glaciers without, 

 and fountains ever flowing. Every crystal 

 dances responsive to the touches of the sun, 

 and currents of sap in the growing cells of all 

 the vegetation are ever in a vital whirl and 

 rush, and though many feet and wings are 

 folded, how many are astir! And the wander- 



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