echoed and reechoed around the shore. More 

 often the white-crowned sparrow sang hope- 

 fully in the night. Morning usually was pre- 

 ceded by a horizon of red and rose and gold. 

 Often, too, vague sheep and deer along the 

 farther shore were slowly developed into reality 

 by the morning light. From all around birds 

 came to bathe and drink, and meet in morning 

 song service. 



Occasionally I remained in camp almost mo- 

 tionless from early morning until the stars of 

 evening filled the lake, enjoying the comings 

 and goings and social gatherings of the wilder- 

 ness folk. 



These lakes, if frozen during calm times, have 

 ice of exceeding clearness and smoothness. In 

 early winter this reflects peak, cloud, and sky 

 with astonishing faithfulness. In walking across 

 on this ice when the reflective condition was 

 at its best, I have marveled at my reflection, or 

 that of Scotch, my dog, walking on what ap- 

 peared to be the surface of the water. The lakes 

 above timber-line are frozen over about nine 

 months of the year, some of them even longer. 



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