cintilla-
tions from the flashing snows of Mount Shasta shimmered through the trees, and a breath of air came across from the Klamat lakes and the Modoc land beyond, as if to welcome us from the dark, deep canon with its leaden fringe, and lining of dark and eternal green.
The Doctor pushed his hat back from his brow and faintly smiled. He was about to kiss his hand to the splendid and majestic mountain showing in bars and sections through the trees, but looked around, caught the eye of Klamat, and his hand fell timidly to his side.
As for Paquita, she leaped from her pony and put out her arms. Her face was radiant with delight. Beautiful with divine beauty, she arched her hand above her brow, looked long and earnestly at the mountain, and then, in a wild and unaccountable sort of ecstasy, turned suddenly, threw her arms about her pony s neck, embraced him passionately and kissed his tawny nose.
"We had been buried in that canon for so long. "We were like men who had issued from a dungeon. As for myself, I was much as usual; I clasped and twisted my hands together as I let my reins fall on my horse s neck, and said nothing.
Our animals were mute now, too; no mule of the party could have been induced to bray. They were tired, dripping with sweat, and held their brown noses low and close to the ground, without at tempting to touch the weeds or grasses.
