Deep within the heart of the Rockies a June day was drawing to its
close. Behind a range of snow-crowned peaks the sun was sinking into a
sea of fire which glowed and shimmered along the western horizon and in
whose transfiguring radiance the bold outlines of the mountains,
extending far as the eye could reach in endless ranks, were marvellously
softened; the nearer cliffs and crags were wrapped in a golden glory,
while the hoary peaks against the eastern sky wore tints of rose and
amethyst, and over the whole brooded the silence of the ages.
Less than a score of miles distant a busy city throbbed with ceaseless
life and activity, but these royal monarchs, towering one above another,
their hands joined in mystic fellowship, their heads white with eternal
snows, dwelt in the same unbroken calm in which, with noiseless step,
the centuries had come and gone, leaving their footprints in the granite
rocks.
Amid those vast distances only two signs of human handiwork were
visible. Close clinging to the sides of a rugged mountain a narrow track
of shining steel wound its way upward, marking the pathway of
civilization in its march from sea to sea, while near the summit of a
neighboring peak a quaint cabin of unhewn logs arranged in Gothic
fashion was built into the granite ledge.
On a small plateau before this unique dwelling stood John Britton and
John Darrell, the latter absorbed in the wondrous scene, the other
watching with intense satisfaction the surprise and rapture of his young
companion. They stood thus till the sun dipped out of sight. The
radiance faded, rose and amethyst deepened to purple; the mountains grew
sombre and dun, their rugged outlines standing in bold relief against
the evening sky. A nighthawk, circling above their heads, broke the
silence with his shrill, plaintive cry, and with a sigh of deep content
Darrell turned to his friend.
"What do you think of it?" the latter asked.
"It is unspeakably grand," was the reply, in awed tones.
Beckoning Darrell to follow, Mr. Britton led the way to the cabin, which
he unlocked and entered.
"Welcome to the 'Hermitage!'" he said, smilingly, as Darrell paused on
the threshold with an exclamation of delight.
A huge fireplace, blasted from solid rock, extended nearly across one
side of the room. Over it hung antlers of moose, elk, and deer, while
skins of mountain lion, bear, and wolf covered the floor. A large
writing-table stood in the centre of the room, and beside it a bookcase
filled with the works of some of the world's greatest authors.
Darrell lifted one book after another with the reverential touch of the
true book-lover, while Mr. Britton hastily arranged the belongings of
the room so as to render it as cosey and attractive as possible.