Paul and I stood for a time spellbound as this vision, seemingly unreal, came to our eyes. To our ears a chorus of unblended sounds came down from the mountain from points far removed one from another, as if here and there a concourse of wild beasts had by prearrangement assembled in various places to engage in a nocturnal carousal. Every creature native to the hills, that had a voice, seemed to take some part in the orgies; and though dissonant, yet those wild voices of the night were in harmony with the rugged setting of the gorges from which they came, and were wonderfully fascinating. The mountain lions entered into the convivialities with tremendous earnestness. Their vicious screams at times were intense and fierce as if the animals were in deadly strife, but when their fervent notes softened down to a low, attenuated, sympathetic purring we recognized in them a marked similarity to the midnight duets of their congener, the domestic cat. It was not the mountains alone that furnished the stage for this midnight serenade to the moon. From other quarters came other yelpings and roars and growls impossible to classify. The wolves in the valley near-by howled ceaseless responses in this remarkable antiphonal chorus. Coyotes without number joined in the _Saturnalia_ of nocturnal revelry, and barked incessantly from every direction; while the bloodhounds at the distant fort bayed deep-toned warning of their guardianship. Even the bull frogs from the pool near the river bank, serene in their watery home, peacefully croaked in plaintive monotone. These numberless, inarticulate voices, so varied in quality, were evidence that along that range there was a remarkable abundance of wild animal life, which in the daytime lurked unseen in unfrequented places; but these sounds did not reveal the presence of the hosts of antelope, elk, deer, and other timid animals with which the country also abounded.