The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-03-10
TWO MOUNTAINS
BY MAKY LEONARD.


 We saw them as we cleared the Cas- cades-one on either side of us. They were very different in appearance, alike only in the snowy hoods shut ting completely over their summits and lying heavily on the broad shoul- ders of their supporting heights. The one to the south was sharp, glisten- ing peak, sweeping grandly up with more hollows than curves in it's mag mficent outline; the one to the north lifted perfect cone of sunlit white ness far above the line of perpetual snow. The one to the south seemed to soar-aspire the one to the north rested solidly-substantially upon the earth. The southern mountain seemed a puff of cloud, figure of brilliant mist, vision, mirage the northern held itself majestically among the clouds, never, even when yelled in the languid autumn haze, losing it's kingly bearing and massive solidity of form. From my window in Portland the two mountains were plainly in sight, with another snow peak, so distant that it showed a mere dim point be- yond the nearer and lower heights, and I never tired of watching them. To one accustomed to the monotony of the prairie or the simple pictur- sequences of the hills, the sight of actual snow peaks is an inspiration and revelation. .,
 tsIt is theirs to array them SO purely -----
 Because of their nearness to the temple eter
 nal;
 Of the dear weary dead on their way up to
 heaven"
 Never did l look across at the two mountains, so white when all else was green, but these words of Joaquin Miller came into my mind. So far away they were, so pure in compari- son with the dark heights beneath them, so ethereally beautiful seen through the medium of the bright, rare atmosphere, that it seemed much more reasonable to suppose them halt ing places on the road 'twixt earth and heaven than simple rock and soil heavy with earthliness, and swept by life-destroying tempests.
 saw the two mountains in their every mood, under all circumstances, and never was my first impression of them changed. Sometimes the rain clouds closed over and hid them, but when the upper strata broke, as it did usually first, revealing the snow peaks while all else was obscured, the south ern shone through faint transfiguring lights like magic island floating in the blue, while the northern was the stern old mountain still, cloaked and hooded, but as haughtily frowning as when the sunshine shone upon it from base to summit, revealing the wrinkles and scars of it's unsmiling face. At times during fires among the hills the winds festooned the smoke in soft blue drapings about the compan- ion peaks, yelling and adorning them with exqisite tintings. but still each kept it's character. The one to the south swan in the languishing lights, retaining and absorbing the evasive hues and weaving the delicate mist tangles into garland for it's brow but the northern mountain glowered heavily through its adornments: it was like grim old sea- king clothed in gauge and muslin. At sunrise the one blushed and frightened through out its outlines as the halo grew above it, while the other cut the golden depths of dawn with it's sharp black silhouette, and darkened with it's shadow the lengths of fog that would fain have shared in the morning glory. At sunset, when the southern moun- tain rivaled the clouds in its exquisite tinting of rose and violet-when, if ever hill and height yield to the soft persistence of the sunshine and bathe themselves in the glory of its un- braided and dissolved rays, the north ern peak threw coldly back the refiec- tions that might have transfgured it, and rose sullen and gray as if it re- joiced in the departure of the day and the coming of the night I learned to love those mountains, dissimilar though they were. with an equal sf- lection. The one charmed while the other soothed me the one led me to contemplate the shining hounds of the ideal and the hinted riches of pos ability, while the other reminded me of the realities os the presen. .- the gray earth and iron rock of the prob- able and actual. Sorry as I was to leave the fair green city of Portland, sitting in the lap of the fruitful Will hmette with the waters of its tidal