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Updated: May 22, 2025
From his window Checkers could see for miles down into the valley, across the dense growth of mountain-pines, the many shaded green and yellow squares of fields and farm lands beyond, and away in the distance the Arkansas River glistening in the sun like a silver snake. Immediately surrounding the house were the orchards, their trees almost breaking with the wealth of their red and yellow fruit.
And song shall 'midst the rocks be heard, And fearless prayer ascend; While, thrilling to God's holy Word, The mountain-pines in adoration bend. And there the burning heart no more Its deep thought shall suppress; But the long-buried truth shall pour Free currents thence, amidst the wilderness."
Anon we entered the groves of mountain-pines anchored in the rocks, and with girths upon which succeeding centuries had clasped their zones. They seemed like Nature's senators in council as they whispered together and murmured in the breeze that reached us laden with music and freighted with resinous aroma.
The mountain-pines of Switzerland may be tall, and the skies of Italy blue, but there are taller pines and bluer skies Somewhere Else. The bay of San Francisco may be beautiful, and the landscapes of Provence lovely, and the crags of Norway sublime, but Somewhere Else there are fairer visions and scenes more majestical An ampler setter, a diviner air, And fields invested with purpureal gleams.
He came down through bare rocks, then through twisted mountain-pines, then through green and lovely valleys, and so into the plains of northern Italy. He saw the mountain torrents leap and flash, and grow always bigger and stronger. He saw them slack their speed and widen their beds in the upland valleys. He saw them grow sluggish, tawny with mud, in the plain.
She asked me if the stones were not very pretty, and said she gathered them in one of her mountain river-beds. "But the gown?" I said. "Surely, you do not gather gowns like that in river-beds, or pick them off mountain-pines?" "But you can get them in Denver. Father always sent to Denver for my finery. He was very particular about how I looked.
Of course when she goes to her fort her sentries sing out 'Turn out the guard! and then . . . do you catch that refreshing early- morning whiff from the mountain-pines and the wild flowers? The night is far spent; we'll hear the bugles before long.
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