She drew a slow, deep breath between her parted lips, and turned wonderingly, for a moment forgetful.

It was the first time she had left the train since entering the mountains, and she understood now why some one in the coach had spoken of the Miette Plain as Sunshine Pool.

Where-ever she looked the mountains fronted her, with their splendid green slopes reaching up to their bald caps of gray shale and reddish rock or gleaming summits of snow.

Into this "pool"-- this pocket in the mountains--the sun descended in a wonderful flood.

It stirred her blood like a tonic.