iding wild children of light, too small to fear. To these one's
heart goes home, and the voices of the storm become gentle. Now the sun
breaks forth and fragrant steam arises. The birds are out singing on the
edges of the groves. The west is flaming in gold and purple, ready for
the ceremony of the sunset, and back I go to camp with my notes and
pictures, the best of them printed in my mind as dreams. A fruitful day,
without measured beginning or ending. A terrestrial eternity. A gift of
good God.

Wrote to my mother and a few friends, mountain hints to each. They seem
as near as if within voice-reach or touch. The deeper the solitude the
less the sense of loneliness, and the nearer our friends. Now bread and
tea, fir bed and good-night to Carlo, a look at the sky lilies, and
death sleep until the dawn of another Sierra to-morrow.

_July 21._ Sketching on the Dome--no rain; clouds at noon about quarter
filled the sky, casting shadows with fine effect on the white mountains
at the heads of the streams, and a soothing cover over the gardens
during the warm hours.

Saw a common house-fly and a grasshopper and a brown bear. The fly and
grasshopper paid me a merry visit on the top of the Dome, and I paid a
visit to the bear in the middle of a small garden meadow between the
Dome and the camp where he was standing alert among the flowers as if
willing to be seen to advantage. I had not gone more than half a mile
from camp this morning, when Carlo, who was trotting on a few yards
ahead of me, came to a sudden, cautious standstill. Down went tail and
ears, and forward went his knowing nose, while he seemed to be saying,
"Ha, what's this? A bear, I guess." Then a cautious advance of a few
steps, setting his feet down softly like a hunting cat, and questioning
the air as to the scent he had caught until all doubt vanished. Then he
came back to me, looked me in the face, and with his speaking eyes
reported a bear near by; then led on softly, careful, like an
experienced hunter, not to make the slightest noise; and frequently
looking back as if whispering, "Yes, it's a bear; come and I'll show
you." Presently we came to where the sunbeams were streaming through
between the purple shafts of the firs, which showed that we were nearing
an open spot, and here Carlo came behind me, evidently sure that the
bear was very near. So I crept to a low ridge of moraine boulders on the
edge of a narrow garden meadow, and in this meadow I felt