ted top suggesting a nesting eyrie for eagles. The timber beyond
clothed the mountain in solid green to what they took to be the top.
But, as they drove on, Saxon, looking back upon what she called her
field, saw the real summit of Sonoma towering beyond, the mountain
behind her field a mere spur upon the side of the larger mass.

Ahead and toward the right, across sheer ridges of the mountains,
separated by deep green canyons and broadening lower down into rolling
orchards and vineyards, they caught their first sight of Sonoma Valley
and the wild mountains that rimmed its eastern side. To the left they
gazed across a golden land of small hills and valleys. Beyond, to the
north, they glimpsed another portion of the valley, and, still beyond,
the opposing wall of the valley--a range of mountains, the highest of
which reared its red and battered ancient crater against a rosy and
mellowing sky. From north to southeast, the mountain rim curved in the
brightness of the sun, while Saxon and Billy were already in the shadow
of evening. He looked at Saxon, noted the ravished ecstasy of her face,
and stopped the horses. All the eastern sky was blushing to rose, which
descended upon the mountains, touching them with wine and ruby. Sonoma
Valley began to fill with a purple flood, laying the mountain bases,
rising, inundating, drowning them in its purple. Saxon pointed in
silence, indicating that the purple flood was the sunset shadow of
Sonoma Mountain. Billy nodded, then chirruped to the mares, and the
descent began through a warm and colorful twilight.

On the elevated sections of the road they felt the cool, delicious
breeze from the Pacific forty miles away; while from each little dip and
hollow came warm breaths of autumn earth, spicy with sunburnt grass and
fallen leaves and passing flowers.

They came to the rim of a deep canyon that seemed to penetrate to
the heart of Sonoma Mountain. Again, with no word spoken, merely
from watching Saxon, Billy stopped the wagon. The canyon was wildly
beautiful. Tall redwoods lined its entire length. On its farther rim
stood three rugged knolls covered with dense woods of spruce and oak.
From between the knolls, a feeder to the main canyon and likewise
fringed with redwoods, emerged a smaller canyon. Billy pointed to a
stubble field that lay at the feet of the knolls.

"It's in fields like that I've seen my mares a-pasturing," he said.

They dropped down into the canyon, the road foll