Page:Percival Lowell - an afterglow.djvu/128

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Percival Lowell


MARS' HILL

I told you, did I not, that I flushed high upon a ridge in the White Mts. (ours, the Arizonian) seven enormous grouse that I took to be wild turkeys? The only life I saw there though I came across bear tracks, I think; and a mountain lion came and looked at our camp, as his foot writing revealed the next morning.

Mars is all right, but, between us and him, has been atrocious. He is sending you by this mail the portraits he promised you showing him in his newly donned ermine.

Look 30° to the right of the tiny south polar cap and you will see the new frost and by comparing the two plates sent you of longitudes 40 apart you will see the white never entered detached on the disk proving that it melted as the sun rose.

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