Francis Francis

Summary

Francis Francis Saddle and Mocassin

In the pale blue, far-off sky the sun shone brightly, and translucent cloud formations, of delicate texture, floated out like woman's hair on the sea of light, crossed and recrossed by one another as they lay in transverse currents of air at different altitudes. In the clear sunny atmosphere of the New Mexican winter, everything looked near and shone vividly; distance seemed to magnify rather than reduce in size the well-conditioned cattle that our quick-stepping ponies bore us past.
Source: Gutenberg

Francis Francis Saddle and Mocassin

Pend d'Oreille was very beautiful, and it is worth something to be able to close your eyes, and see it as I saw it on [Pg 118] the morning that we left—as I see it now, in fact, although two thousand miles of mountain and prairie lie between us as I write.
A slender shaft of blue smoke rises straight from the smouldering embers of our last night's fire on the beach. The air is fresh and still—there is no stillness, though, like that of the expectant pause which heralds the roar of day, no freshness like the evanescent freshness of sunrise. Texas is gathering drift-wood at high-water mark.
Source: Gutenberg

Francis Francis Saddle and Mocassin

The evening vigil on an elk-trail in the dim forest twilight, [Pg 33] when the winds slumbered, the earth was dumb, and even a falling leaf created quite a stir. The calumet and chat, with our mocassined feet to the camp fire, the light from which playing upon the giant trunks around, made them seem like pillars in some mysterious hall; the cheerful glow anear, the sombre gloom beyond. Is it not all photographed and laid aside to beguile us of idle hours hereafter? He who has no ambition in the future should create a pleasant past.
At daybreak we climbed the highest peak in the ridge.
Source: Gutenberg

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