Years afterward he is known to
have said that the view from the crag that day was the most appealing in
its calmness and its beauty that he had seen upon his hunts.
Below him stretched a grove of trees. Their waving tops told of their
size and to his trained woodsman's eye the quivering oval leaves were
the leaves of the walnut. It was assurance that the soil was rich. And
through the length of the valley, twisted irregularly, lay a wide ribbon
of saffron cane, from which at times the silver surface of a stream
showed--a further evidence of the soil's fertility. Over the western
edge of this tableland of green and yellow and silver the mountains cast
a shadow of purple and the sun filtered slanting rays through the forest
slopes on the north and east.
Down the mountainside he came, and into the valley; never to leave it,
except when in bartering with the Indians he went to their
camping-places for furs, or in the years of prosperity that followed he
was upon a trading mission.
He first made his way through "Walnut Grove" in search of the caned
banks of the river. As he pushed through the reeds that swayed above him
he came suddenly upon a well-beaten path. In its dust were the prints of
deer-hoofs, and he followed them. The path threaded the length of the
valley beside the river's winding course, but he knew from the crests of
the mountains above him the direction he was taking.
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