Hellgate High School - Halberd Yearbook (Missoula, MT)

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MISSOULA COUNTY HIGH SCHOOL

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professor Francis JStejer pehtcalton JUb, tfje (Elass of 1911, itespectfullg MebxtnU tips fitter ?Root nttratal to Recognition of Ste (SjrtenMg J gmpatljg anit Rlnfailing Support

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irzmnx W QUAIL CREEK CAMP BY MOONLIGHT, A LA IRVING WALLACE- SMITH, '13 I have given a picture of our camp on our first taking possession. A few evenings have produced a thorough change in the scene and in my feelings. The moon, which then was invisible, has gradually gained upon the nights and now rolls in full splendor above Bear Tooth Cliff, pouring a flood of tempered light into every forest aisle and clearing. The slope in front of the tent is gently lightened up; the fir and pine trees are tipped with silver, the creek sparkles in the moonbeams and even the blush of the wild rose is faintly visible. I have sat for hours in our tent door inhaling the fragrance of the pines, and musing on the jagged outline of the tree-tops, whose towering trunks are dimly shadowed out against a background of for- est-covered mountains. Sometimes I have issued forth at midnight when .everything was quiet and have wandered around the camp. Who can do justice to a moonlight night in such a climate and in such a place ? The temperature of a Montana midnight in summer is perfectly ethereal. We seem lifted up into a purer atmosphere; there is a serenity of soul, buoyancy of spirits, elasticity of frame that renders mere existence enjoyment. The effect of the moonlight, too, on the campsite has something like enchantment. Every rent and chasm of time, every mouldering tint and weather stain disappears; the cliffs take on the whiteness of marble; the little creek flows gently along its base; two trees stand as sentinals so that the “Tooth” reminds one of a moated fastness of mediaeval times. At such times I have ascended by the narrow path to the top of Bear-Tooth hill to enjoy its varied and extensive prospect. To the right the snowy summits of Mission Range gleam like silver clouds against the darker firmament and all the outlines of the mountains would be softened, yet delicately defined. My delight, however, would be to lean over where the crag drops sheer for hundreds of feet, and gaze down upon the Swan River, winding like a great silver snake, The Bitter Root Page 7