Putnam patriot., 1911-11-03
Watch Byron D. Bugb Watch Our

but not extensive. The rock-bound walls hem me in on all sides, above me the stream apparently gushes in mad abandon out of the ground and comes dashing in widest fury over rock and boulder by my vantage point only to disappear in the near distance dashing itself in anger against the massive canyon walls. The rain drops now retreat to the cave from where 1 can watch the play of Natures forces.
 The rain mingled with hail comes down in perfect sheets, at times hid ing the distance, then again lifting and softening the outline of crag and peak. The roar of the thunder reveb- crates through the canyon, while the rocks and trees and stream seem to take on a different aspect and appear quite changed from what they did in the sunlight of while ago.
 l anu thankful for the cave that shel- ters me and enjoy to the utmost the scene. Alas, others are not so fortu nate, for across the way A female and two males, wet and bedraggled, come walking down the grade, the rain has evidently put them out of humor. Well, whom wouldn't it? Strange they do not seek a shelter among the rocks. And still it raineth.
 wish you were here with me. There, fiery streak rushes across the leaden sky, from wall to wall the can yon is illuminated while the thunder bounds and rebounds along the cleft back and forth like ball thrown from side to side. 1 sit snug beneath the rock and watch the play of lightning as 1t apparently springs from crag to crAg and thus 1t storms for fully an hour and then overhead the clouds be- gin 10 break, the sun forcing them apart causes them to drift to the east and west and far away, then old Sol smiles again on all below with the sparkle and joy of new life. The wind Veers and my shelter is invaded by breath of moisture. How fresh and good il is to inhale this scented ozone.
 The water works have sprung into action and 1 can at least have cup or two of HeaVen-sent nectar.
 Now l must wait until the sun has dried the moisture from the shrubs and grasses ere 1 can venture to make my way to the stream once,more. In the meantime l sit far out on the cliff a ain and watch the passing stream that has risen in it's bed, and dashes more wildly and noiSier adown its rocky pathway; whistle reverateS among the hills and see, train ap breaches upon the scene, rolls and twists along it's iron trail and shriek- ing disappears as il has come, from nowhere into nowhere; above all is se' rene, and far up near the mountain ridge, where lies an eagles eyrie l know tof, circles great dark bird, while on the narrow top stands a withered trunk of pine shattered ages ago and now with limbs outstretched 1 il bears the symbol of the cross. My 1 cross of vanished day. Shadows be- | gin 10 lengthen and l betake myself l upon my homewaIi path. A word of farewell 10 the hills love and slowly | l make my way down the sheer moun- tain side, reach the great boulder and prepare to descend the ladder to the Hume,
 Just as I place my foot on the top rung l notice to my horror that the rude balustrade presents rather queer appearance, for there at the lower end stretched out full length its beady eyes ylistening in my direction, lay a black md yellow bull snake. Beside me is he dam with the water rushing and noisily over it. His snake