CHAPTER XXIII.
Spring, smiting with soft, warm hands, had come like a miracle, and now lingered for a dreamy spell before bursting into full-blown summer.
The snow had left the bottoms and valleys and nestled only on the north slopes of the ice-scarred ridges.

The glacial drip was already in evidence, and every creek in roaring spate.

Each day the sun rose earlier and stayed later.

It was now chill day by three o'clock and mellow twilight at nine.

Soon a golden circle would be drawn around the sky, and deep midnight become bright as high noon.