es
from the cloud kaleidoscope above them, or to speak, the mind
had so much to do at the eyes. Only a glance now and then for
contrast of beauty, at the south, and to the north where two
or three little masses of grey hung in the clear sky. Gently
Winthrop's oars dipped from time to time, bringing them a
little further from the western shore and within fuller view
of the opening in the mountains. As they went, a purplish
shade came upon the grey masses in the north; -- the sunlight
colours over Bright Spot took richer and deeper hues of purple
and red; the salmon network in the south changed for rose. And
then, before they had got far, the moon's crescent, two or
three days old, a glittering silver thread, hung itself out
amid the bright rosy flecks of cloud in the west just hard by
the mountain's brow. Winnie had to look sharp to find it.

"And there is Venus too," said Winthrop; -- "look at her."

"Where?"

"In the blue -- a little lower down than the moon; and further
to the south -- do you see? --"

"That white bright star? -- O how beautiful! -- in that clear
blue sky. O how bright! -- how much brighter than the moon,
Winthrop?"

"Yes, -- she has a way of looking bright."

"How did you know it was Venus, or how _do_ you know?"

"Very much in the same way that I know it is Winnie. I have
seen her before. I never saw those clouds before."

"Did you ever see _such_ clouds before! And how long they stay,
Winthrop. O what a place!"

Slowly the little boat pulled over the river, getting further
and further from Bright Spot and its bright bit of sky
scenery, which faded and changed very slowly as they sailed
away. They neared the high rocky point of Shahweetah, and then
instead of turning down the river, kept an easterly course
along the low woody shore which stretched back from the point.
As they went on, and as the clouds lost their glory, the sky
in the west over Wut-a-qut-o's head tinged itself with violet
and grew to an opal light, the white flushing up liquidly into
rosy violet, which in the northeast quarter of the horizon
melted away to a clear grave blue.

"It's more beautiful than the clouds," said Winnie.

"It is a wonderful evening," said Winthrop, as he set his oars
more earnestly in the water and the little boat skimmed along.

"But dear Governor, where are you going?"

"Going to land, somewhere."

"To land! But it'll be time to go home, won't it? We're a
great way from there."

"We'