splendid view of the Sierras away to the southwest. The sun still stood about fifteen minutes above the horizon's rim and the full blaze of its departing glory fell upon the foothills some eight or ten thousand feet below the mountains' crest. This radiant splendor of the sunlight shed such a glory over the foothills that they looked like ancient battlements with little minarets and domes of gold. But soon the light receded up the mountain side and dark shadows took its place over—the hills. Larry could plainly discern the dark blue-green of the forest and he knew his old friends, the pines, the spruces, the cedars, and the hemlocks, were there in all their dark mystic beauty. But once more the advancing shadows forced the sunlight to retreat to the mountains' crest and the full glory of departing day was seen along the top of the range upon the snow and ice fields that still lingered on the caps of the highest peaks. Then the mountain top for twenty miles became a gorgeous rainbow, so bright that the eye could scarce behold it. But the shadows still pursued and almost before the full beauty had been realized the lower side of the rainbow had faded and shadows took its place. Up, up the legions of darkness pursued until a dark red band on the horizon's rim had succeeded the rainbow. But still the shadows pursued and soon the dark red faded into crimson, the crimson into pink, the pink into lighter pink, until finally all color had faded
