STEEP TRAILS 



salutation as they passed. The crowd was 

 being constantly increased by new arrivals 

 from both shores, sailboats, rowboats, racing- 

 shells, rafts, were loaded with gayly dressed 

 people, and here and there some adventurous 

 man or boy might be seen as a merry sailor 

 on a single plank or spar, apparently as deep 

 in enjoyment as were any on the water. It 

 seemed as if all the town were coming to the 

 river, renouncing the cares and toils of the 

 day, determined to take the evening breeze 

 into their pulses, and be cool and tranquil ere 

 going to bed. 



Absorbed in the happy scene, given up to 

 dreamy, random observation of what lay 

 immediately before me, I was not conscious 

 of anything occurring on the outer rim of the 

 landscape. Forest, mountain, and sky were 

 forgotten, when my companion suddenly 

 directed my attention to the eastward, shout- 

 ing, "Oh, look! look!" in so loud and excited 

 a tone of voice that passers-by, saunterers like 

 ourselves, were startled and looked over the 

 bridge as if expecting to see some boat upset. 

 Looking across the forest, over which the mel- 

 low light of the simset was streaming, I soon 

 discovered the source of my friend's excite- 

 ment. There stood Mount Hood in all the 

 glory of the alpenglow, looming immensely 



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