broad reaches of cliff and bluff and precipice above the green, ribbon-like cleft through which the Paradise Valley way takes its shadowy length. The afternoon sun lay full on the soft, mellow, brownish-gray of the lichened rocks, bringing out every rent and cranny. High in the heavens floated banners of fleecy white foam that might be playthings of the angels, set astream by them, drifting long pennons from some point in the southwest. A west wind blew lightly laden with spicy sweetness. A rare mountain goldfinch made its swooping flight near him. On the breath of the breeze came down from the watching heights, etched against the profound northern blue, a voice that whispered half mockingly,
"Listen and learn, oh, deaf mortal!"
The Mountain-Lover had had with him for a few days a friend who was new to the mountain. They had once done some ice
