The pursued : a tale of the Yellowstone . umbers that theythought it would last for ever. And there, on the littleknoll l)y the fort, near the rapids, they settled. And theyfolded their Avings and became a man and woman. •* Are you a Crane ? asked Salter. I am of that race. I thought so. Pure Tobacco of the race of liirdseye !Let us turn in. CHAPTEE YIL A DAY IN WONDERLAND. It is early morning. Sequoyahlias walked out from the block-house to the brink of the mar-vellous canyon, Avhose western/side is now ablaze with everyhue of frost and flame. Thereis no cloud in the sky; themist has gone ; t
The pursued : a tale of the Yellowstone . umbers that theythought it would last for ever. And there, on the littleknoll l)y the fort, near the rapids, they settled. And theyfolded their Avings and became a man and woman. •* Are you a Crane ? asked Salter. I am of that race. I thought so. Pure Tobacco of the race of liirdseye !Let us turn in. CHAPTEE YIL A DAY IN WONDERLAND. It is early morning. Sequoyahlias walked out from the block-house to the brink of the mar-vellous canyon, Avhose western/side is now ablaze with everyhue of frost and flame. Thereis no cloud in the sky; themist has gone ; the sun gleamsundimmed from an unbrokenocean of steel blue, and thelight is as pure as if gatheredin a diamond lens and shotfrom a silver shield. As the old man looks into therift, the colours shine out brilliant and sharp, evenwhere toned by the purple shade. So bright are they,wet with the morning dew, that it seems as thoughthe gorge had been scooped in skein upon skein of flosssilk, in all the glorious wealth of colouring from cream. 78 THE PURSUED, to indigo. Varied as the blending bands of the spectrum,the slopes, in their innumerable streaks of every tintknown to nature, look like a wild triumph of the dyersart. But no dyes are half so pure or rich, or yield suchharmonies. Below, deep down, is the stream. It roars on in silence,for no sound rises through that awful dej^tli of fifteenhundred feet; and so lessened is it to the vision that itlooks but a motioidess thread furred here and there withdots of frosted silver. Along its banks, and up the many-coloured slopes, are hot springs and fountains innumerable,whose clouds of steam break up the light into a millionrainbows. From other springs that bubble and overflow,the waters are leaping down the rocks,—coloured waters,black and blue, and grey and red, in thin vertical bars,crossing the horizontal streaks. In Hoodooland the formsare rounded and animal; here they are squared andarchitectural. Back the breccia has been c
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookpublisherlondon, booksubjectindiansofnortha
