For a few miles, they repeatedly crossed bridges over the Gila, then their road followed the foothills for some distance. The hills were still yellow with the silky California poppies. Green alfalfa fields, in the valley below, looked like bits of Eden let down into the grimly majestic scene. Higher the travelers rode, and higher. At a sudden turn, they came upon the narrow and perilous canyon road, where they drove slowly, drinking in the grandeur of it all. The tinkling of a cowbell warned them that they were approaching a human habitation. As they rounded a sharp jag, they came upon a picturesque bridge, near the farther end of which they caught a glimpse of a pine-slab cabin, half hidden by tremulous aspens. A little Mexican child stood near the door, helping himself to the pink and white blossoms of the wild sweet pea. Near by, a white cow, with her clanking bell, browsed on the green turf that bordered that side of the stream. On and up the mountain, the travelers rode, into the heart of the Rockies. "Just look at that rose-colored sandstone," said Esther. "How exquisitely veined! See the gigantic, overhanging mass of rock beyond! And oh, the cactus blossoms! How glorious! The large scarlet blossoms! See?" "Yes. Exquisite, aren't they? But look at those cliffs over in that direction, Miss Bright," said Edith, pointing to her left, as she spoke. "Do you see anything unusual?" "Yes. Quaint figures. Indian art, isn't it? I do wish I could see it nearer by." And so they traveled on, reveling in the beauty everywhere about them. "Does it ever occur to you," asked Edith, "that God is nearer to us here, in the mountains, than anywhere else?" "Yes. Does God seem nearer to you here?" "Much nearer. When we went home to England the last time, I missed something. It seemed to me it was God. We went to the churches and heard great preachers, but they did not make me feel the presence of God as the mountains do. When I come out into the open, as you call it, and see the mountains, it seems to me I could reach my hand out and find God." "The mountains do great things for us," said Esther, looking up at the jagged cliffs. Suddenly there was a whir of wings. An enormous eagle roused from his perch on the rocks, made a bold swoop, and soared grandly above their heads. "Look, look!" cried Esther, in excitement. "An eagle, isn't it? Oh, you splendid creature! How magnificently free!" Her cheeks flushed. "Did you never see one before?" "Yes, stuffed; but this bird is alive and free." She looked at Edith. "You look pale, Edith," she said, with sudden alarm. "Are you feeling worse?" "No. Only tired. We'll soon reach the clearing, and just beyond that, the ford; and just beyond that, the house. So I can soon rest." Esther drew a deep breath, and said: "I feel as though the spirit of the eagle had entered into me."