Los Angeles herald., 1906-09-04

scorn your weakness in having hired
a mule; they will walk to the top of
Mount Wilson. But for that they would
not have left their wives In Los An
geles-to ride, that were childish.
Just for company's sake you Yield
to the mule and ride slowly, that you
may chat with these pedestrians,
Now and then, too, they come In OPP
portunely when you want bit of life
in a snap shot.
The bends Of the trail are carrying
you ever higher up the mountain and
then down into a narrow gulch or val
ley between the slopes of two yellow
mountains, thinly covered with scrub.
Two ladies' are resting on the trail
and they smile at the aged mountain
climbers There seems sarcasm in
their smile that we, who are young,
should be riding and the two old men
should walk, but the old men cannot
go home and say they rode even a
bit of the way up Mount wilson
Now we are right at the brink of the
trail, while on our left rises the noun
tain, with the scrub patches of laurel
and glossy leafed plant that the mule
takes delight in though half of the
shrubs are barren, and with the moss
and fern and an occasional wild bird.
Below Is the deep descent Of slope, and
the hungry mule ever threatens to dash
us into It,
1t reminds you of mountaineering
in the Balkans and Turkey, even to
the unsuccessful attempts of these
Yankees to take your picture on the
trail. Then, too, there Is similarity in
this same gorgeous view, with the
orange groves here replacing the olives
in their square patches below, and the
glades with the red-berried laurel and
the bushes filed with bits of flowers,
and, above all, the shade. In fact, at
times, you feel yourself bcak in the
Sandchak, and at others on the road
from the Adriatic to Cetigne.
At one point on rock is painted,
"Oh joy" and it makes you pensive,
as you go on and on. Occasionally
there are dizzy heights, at others the
trail is so steep you lead the mule in
preference to being tossed over.
The two Yankees, so friendly at
first are silent. Conclusion, they are
tiring.
On another rock you read: "I wish
I was an angel.'' The Yankees do not
smile.
You recall Stevenson and his travels
on a donkey, you point out the great
rocks in the tangles that stretch on
only quarter-past twelve, and we are
almost at the top of the ridge. Once
on that top, you look down to indicate
the falls, far down in a deep, gloomy
thicket. But there is little response
from the Yankees.
The other men come down the trail,
Joking of how much further it is to the
top, and as If to bear them out, at
most delightful point for looking
down on the falls, is a sign, Three
quarter mile to the halfway house"
1t is now 1918.
You have come to wild glen at the
head of the valley with creek far
below in it's recesses and magnificent
mountains all about while you are
among leaves and shrubbery only. You
cannot feel at ease to see those old men
plodding, plodding on, and so again
you volunteer your steed, such as 1t
is And perhaps assured that neither
leaves nor birds are tattle-tales, the
elder of the two accepts.
And again, in fancy, you are back
in the Balkans, walking beside the
mule, chatting on the narrow trail
Pleasant strolling in the great leaf
shadows, where the resurrection plants
grow thick; pleasant in the deep
glades, where the small-leafed noun
tain oaks rise In deep glossy tangles,
pleasant among creeks that flow from
distant mountains, and in the ever
deepening forest of the low-crowned
trees, you do not note that there is a
descent, and that you are returning
to the level of the water Suddenly you
are at the brook, ready to stop, to
drink and to be snapshot.
How wild it is the signs here every
where against kindling fires assure
these and notices of the law requiring
everyone to stop and lend hand at
putting forest fires out. You see the
mountain rising up-sheer above-and
there are other slopes that lead you
deeper to other brooks.
Despite the dark and shade, the
ferns and the blooming gooseberries,
and the great white rocks in the rivu-
let's, it is getting very tiresome to
walk and you wish you We're back on
your mule. OF course from time to
time the Yankee volunteers to return
to you your own, but, of course, you