WE descended into a profound and shadowy valley where the pines and firs got loftier as if trying to reach the level of the mighty cliffs above them, but all their branches hung in veils of the tillandsia moss. Here were firs with thousands of Uncle Sam beards of yellow-green hair hanging from thousands of sharp chins. The great depth of the brown floor of the forest was roofed in by darkness, and tree-tops and moss. We came down to a wild brawling stream which rent the forest in twain and let in the fairness of the sky and the sun. It was a perfect place and I must say we did not expect to meet anybody there. We took off our clothes in the sun, and naked Lindsay took his shirt to wash in the stream. Naked, I made a fire by the water-edge, and put on the coffee-pot to boil. The water of the river was ice-cold, and surreptitiously dipping a limb in it, one registered the fact. Many brown comma butterflies danced in the sunshine, and settling on our arms and legs, tickled us, throwing their honey-tubes deep into our pores and getting their luncheon before we got ours. Evidently we were a couple of sweet boys. Our innocence was, however, sharply disturbed by an unwonted cry and a shout, and a red-faced, large-eyed, half-breed Indian suddenly appeared on horseback along the river shore. He was trying to protect the eyes of his party. But he was too late. We made a rapid scramble and dived as a party of five highly-amused girls came past, and following them a dozen pack-mules, carrying their camping outfits and party-frocks. I lay in the water after that and thought it over whilst a cascade of melted snow rushed down my neck, and I saw on the shore the coffee-pot lifting its lid and spitting many times. Presently I saw the Indian re-appear and struggle through the forest wreckage of the river-bank. “The party apologises,” says he, “for coming upon you unexpectedly.” I apologised in return. [Illustration] _When Actaeon saw Artemis at her bath, The goddess changed him to a stag. And when Tiresias saw Athene thus She robbed him of his eyes. But when these goddesses saw Actaeon and Tiresias A-bathing, They laughed. We meant nothing to them Compared with what they knew they meant to us._ [Illustration: FROM THE FIRE TO THE DARK GOES THE TINY SPARK] XXXI. AS THE SPARKS FLY UPWARD WE lunched on ham and peas and caramel cake, and lay in a natural cradle among the roots of giant firs, and slept for an hour of a perfect afternoon. After the ice-cold dip and scalding coffee and a good feed and a self-indulgent snooze, we knew ourselves to be well and certainly happy. What a thing is physical well-being--to be hard, to be fit, to be cool, to be clear-headed, to know there’s a live spring in every muscle, and then to be care-free and able to sleep in the afternoon!