1922. Gregory, an entertaining and successful American story teller
of Westerns and other genres, whose authentic background
descriptions come from the time he spent becoming a native son of
each location. The tale begins: It was springtime in the California
Sierra. Never were skies bluer, never did the golden sun-flood
steep the endless forest lands in richer life-giving glory. Ridge
after ridge the mountains swept on and fell away upon one side
until in the vague distances they sank to the monotonous level of
the Sacramento Valley; down there it was already summer, and fields
were hot and brown. Ridge after ridge the mountains stretched on
the other side, rising steadily, growing ever more august and might
and rocky; on their crests across the blue gorges the snow was
dazzling white and winter held stubbornly on at altitudes of seven
thousand feet. See other titles by this author available from
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