It rolled up over the peaks like a forest fire, and filled all the Rocky Mountains with a wonderful glow.

The basin, in which there were perhaps ten acres of meadow, was lighted up almost like day.

The little lake at the foot of the mountain glimmered softly, and the tiny stream that fed it from the melting snows a thousand feet above shot down in glistening cascades that caught the moonlight like rivulets of dull polished diamonds.
About the meadow were scattered little clumps of bushes and a few balsams and spruce, as if set there for ornamental purposes; and on one side there was a narrow, verdure-covered slide that sloped upward for a third of a mile, and at the top of which, unseen by Muskwa and Thor, a band of sheep were sleeping.
Muskwa wandered about, always near Thor, investigating the clumps of bushes, the dark shadows of the balsams and spruce, and the edge of the lake.

Here he found a plashet of soft mud which was a great solace to his sore feet.

Twenty times during the night he waded in the mud.
Even when the dawn came Thor seemed to be in no great haste to leave the basin.