erful machine sent a shudder through the whole length
of the train.

Again and again we paused: it seemed that we could not go farther
without rest. Sometimes we hung on the edge of a chasm in whose
fathomless shadow were buried a forest and a stream, both of which
sent upward to us a fragrant and melodious greeting; sometimes we
rested under a mighty mountain, whose adamantine brow scowled upon us,
and we were glad when we once more resumed the toilsome ascent of the
Sierras and escaped unharmed from that giant's lair.

Once we tarried on the brink of a wild canon. Midnight and silence
seemed to slumber there: the moon flooded one half the mysterious gulf
with light, revealing a slender waterfall whose plash was faintly
heard: it served only to make the silence more profound. Near at hand
the torn and ragged earth, robbed of its treasure, looked painful even
in that softening light. On the dark side of the canon, in among the
trees, a flame danced. I saw the gaunt forms of rough-clad men
gathered about the camp-fire, and beyond them a rude cabin of
un-barked logs, looking cheerful enough in the rosy light.

There was nothing lovelier than this or more characteristic in the
glorious ride over the Sierras--not even the lake, above whose green
shores we rushed with half a mountain between us; nor the ice-gorges,
nor the black forests, nor the chaos of rock and ravine that has
defied the humanizing touch of time. I felt the burden of the
mountains then, and it is for ever associated with a memory of the
high Sierras, caught and fixed as we swept onward into the wild, wide
snow-lands.

The burden of the mountains: There shall come a day when the ravine
for the silver is drained and the gold-seekers turn from thee
disconsolate, but thy years are unnumbered and thy strength unfailing:
the grass shall cover thy nakedness and the pine-boughs brood over
thee for ever and ever; the clouds shall visit thee and the springs
increase; the snows shall gather in the clefts of thy bosom; thy
breasts shall give nourishment, thy breath life to the fainting, and
the sight of thy face joy. The people shall go up to thee and build in
thy shadow; their flocks shall feed in peace: out of thy days shall
come fatness, and out of thy nights rest, for thou hast that within
thee more precious than silver, yea, better than much fine gold.

When the burden was past I looked out into the night. A soft wind was
stirring; I scented the balsam of t