ondition termed first love,--the very torments incident
to which are moderated joys,--but it must not be supposed that he
conducted himself with the maudlin sentimentality not unfrequently
allied to that condition. Although a mischievous and, we are bound to
admit, a reckless youth, he was masculine in his temperament, and
capable of being deeply, though not easily, stirred into enthusiasm. It
was quite in accordance with this nature that his jesting tone and
manner suddenly vanished as his gaze became riveted on the ridge to
which he had carelessly directed attention. Even Nita was for a moment
forgotten in the sight that met his eyes, for the trees and bushes which
crowned the ridge were to all appearance composed of solid fire!

"Did you ever see anything like that before Emma?" he asked, eagerly.

"Never; I have seen sunrises and sunsets in many parts of our own land,
but nothing at all like that; what _can_ be the cause of it?"

There was good reason for the wonder thus called forth, for the light
was not on the trees but _behind_ them. The sun had not quite risen,
but was very near the summit of the ridge, so that these trees and
bushes were pictured, as it were, against the brightest part of the
glowing sky. In such circumstances we are taught by ordinary experience
that objects will be unusually dark, but these trees were incomparably
brighter than the glowing sky itself. It was not that their mere edges
were tipped with fire, but their entire substance, even to the central
core of the pine-stems, was to all appearance made of pure light, as if
each tree and shrub had been made of steel raised to a condition of
intense white heat. No shining of the sun through or upon trees can
convey the slightest idea of the sight. It was something absolutely new
to our travellers, and roused their astonishment as well as wonder to
the highest pitch.

"Oh!" exclaimed Nita, clasping her hands with a force peculiar to her
demonstrative nature, "how wonderful! How I do wish the Professor was
here to tell us how and what it be."

That evening the Professor, who had observed the phenomenon more than
once, told them all he knew about it. There were differences of
opinion, he said, as to the cause, for men of physical science, not less
than doctors, were prone to differ. For himself, he had only noted the
facts and knew not the cause. The luminous trees appeared only at that
part of the ridge where the sun was _just g