"How could I?" he retorted. "I was not schooled in your mountains, you
know. Your world up here is still a strange world to me."
Still smiling with the pleasure of her fancy, she replied, "But didn't you
ask me again and again to help you to know the mountains as I know them?"
"Yes," he said, "but you would not promise."
"I did better than promise"--she returned--"I brought you, from the
mountains themselves, their three greatest gifts."
He shook his head, with the air of a backward schoolboy--"Won't you read
the lesson?"
"If you will work while I talk, I will," she answered--amused by the
hopelessness of his manner and tone.
Obediently, he took up his brushes, and turned toward his picture.
Removing her hat, she seated herself on the ground, where she had woven
the willow basket for the fish.
After a moment's silence, she began--timidly, at first, then with
increasing confidence as she found words to express her charming fancy.
"First, you must know, that in all the wild life of the mountains there is
no creature so strong--in proportion to its size and weight, I mean--as
the trout that lives in the mountain streams. Its home is in the icy
torrents that are fed by the snows of the highest peaks and canyons.
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