Our tents were on an islet, and all around we saw the primeval, savage beauty of a world unmarred by man, The river leaped, shouting, down its double stairway of granite, rejoicing like a strong man to run a race. The after-glow in the western sky deepened from saffron to violet among the tops of the cedars, and over the cliffs rose the moonlight, paling the heavens but glorifying the earth. There was something large and generous and untrammelled in the scene, recalling one of Walt Whitman's rhapsodies:--"Earth of departed sunsets! Earth of the mountains misty-topped!

Earth of the vitreous pour of the full moon just tinged with blue!