The Masters of the Peaks

by Joseph a Altsheler

Published 1 December 1990
A light wind sang through the foliage, turned to varying and vivid hues now by the touch of autumn, and it had an edge of cold that made Robert Lennox shiver a little, despite a hardy life in wilderness and open. But it was only a passing feeling. A moment or two later he forgot it, and, turning his eyes to the west, watched the vast terraces of blazing color piled one above another by the sinking sun. Often as he had seen it the wonderful late glow over the mighty forest never