Southern California; . the sun beats down with unobstructed force, and theview widens beneath by slow degrees. The mules of the Mount Wilson trail are patient,long-suffering beasts, who pay less attention to an ener-getic prodding than to the bite of a fly. They are quickto interpret any exclamation such as oh, or hothere, into a whoa, and sometimes come to a stand-still without even this lame pretext; but, withal, theyclimb the mountains sure-footedly and ploddingly, andone has only to keep at them with determination and astout stick to get along. It is refreshing and delightful to turn off f
Southern California; . the sun beats down with unobstructed force, and theview widens beneath by slow degrees. The mules of the Mount Wilson trail are patient,long-suffering beasts, who pay less attention to an ener-getic prodding than to the bite of a fly. They are quickto interpret any exclamation such as oh, or hothere, into a whoa, and sometimes come to a stand-still without even this lame pretext; but, withal, theyclimb the mountains sure-footedly and ploddingly, andone has only to keep at them with determination and astout stick to get along. It is refreshing and delightful to turn off from theexposed mountain side and dip into the cool shadow of 58. We stand upon oak and fir. The mile boards seem along distance apart on this trail, butit is good to linger by the way andcatch the fragrance of the pine and ,the song of the mountain is good to see the tempered lightsof the woodland — natures vast cathe-dral— with the golden rays stream-ing through the tracer}- of the pineboughs. The lithe gray squirrel ishere, and at our feet grows thehounds-tongue and the baby blue-eyes. In the higher reaches of the trail^the scenery is bolder and more rugged,granite crags that command a world-wide view. Theplain stretches off to the coast line, the ocean leads offto the islands, while near at hand the mountains shootaloft into bold headlands, and tumble away into ca>uyonsbelow. It is suggestive of the pictures we have seen ofthe passes of the Andes, where the road is cut along theface of a rock wall winding up into the dizzy heights. Wilsons Camp, formerly called Martins Camp, islocated on the backbone of a ridge a mile from th
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Keywords: ., bookauthorkeelerch, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookyear1901
