W. G. Steel, The Mountains of Oregon
“ He went up to the very brink of the precipice and started his camp fire. Here he laid down to rest; here he slept till morn—slept till the sun was high in air, then arose and joined his tribe far down the mountain. At night he came again; again he slept till morn. Each visit bore a charm that drew him back again. Each night found him sleeping above the rocks; each night strange voices arose from the waters; mysterious noises filled the air. At last, after a great many moons, he climbed down to the lake and there he bathed and spent the night. ”
