upon the plateau below her. It seemed to illustrate the conviction
that had been slowly shaping itself out of her reflections on the
conversation of that morning. It was possible that the perfect
understanding of a higher life was only reached from a height still
greater, and that to those half-way up the mountain the summit was never
as truthfully revealed as to the humbler dwellers in the valley.
I do not know that these profound truths prevented her from gathering
some quaint ferns and berries, or from keeping her calm gray eyes open
to certain practical changes that were taking place around her. She had
noticed a singular thickening in the atmosphere that seemed to prevent
the passage of the sun's rays, yet without diminishing the transparent
quality of the air. The distant snow-peaks were as plainly seen, though
they appeared as if in moonlight. This seemed due to no cloud or mist,
but rather to a fading of the sun itself. The occasional flurry of wings
overhead, the whirring of larger birds in the cover, and a frequent
rustling in the undergrowth, as of the passage of some stealthy animal,
began equally to attract her attention. It was so different from the
habitual silence of these sedate solitudes. Kate had no vague fear of
wild beasts; she had been long enough a mountaineer to understand the
general immunity enjoyed by the unmolesting wayfarer, and kept her way
undismayed. She was descending an abrupt trail when she was stopped by a
sudden crash in the bushes. It seemed to come from the opposite incline,
directly in a line with her, and apparently on the very trail that she
was pursuing. The crash was then repeated again and again lower down, as
of a descending body. Expecting the apparition of some fallen tree, or
detached boulder bursting through the thicket, in its way to the bottom
of the gulch, she waited. The foliage was suddenly brushed aside, and
a large grizzly bear half rolled, half waddled, into the trail on the
opposite side of the hill. A few moments more would have brought them
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