The
pine woods stretched on over the gradual slope, as far as they would
climb before dinner. Otherwise the midday heats would have been too much
for them. This was the easy part of the way, and there was breath for
chat and merriment.
Just within the upper edge of the woods, in a comparatively smooth
opening, they halted. Here they spread their picnic, while up above, on
the bare, open rock, the young men kindled their fire and heated the
coffee; and here they ate and drank, and rested through the noontide.
Light clouds flitted between the mountains and the heavens, later in the
day, and flung bewildering, dreamy shadows on the far-off steeps, and
dropped a gracious veil over the bald forehead and sun-bleak shoulders
of Feather-Cap. It was "weather just made for them," as fortunate
excursionists are wont to say.
Sin Saxon was all life, and spring, and fun. She climbed at least three
Feather-Caps, dancing from stone to stone with tireless feet, and
bounding back and forth with every gay word that it occurred to her to
say to anybody.
Pages:
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171