four
o’clock
Here and there on their northern slopes hung a beard of scrub timber ; sharp gulleys cut into their fastnesses to bring down the turbulent waters of their snows . Some miles to the left of the trail lay the bed of the Y.D. , fringed with poplar and cottonwood and occasional dark green splashes of spruce . Beyond the bed of the Y.D. , beyond the foothills that looked down upon it , hung the mountains themselves , their giant crests pitched like mighty tents drowsing placidly between earth and heaven . Now their four o'clock veil of blue-purple mist lay filmed about their shoulders , but later they would stand out in bold silhouette cutting into the twilight sky . Everywhere was the soft smell of new-mown hay ; everywhere the silences of the eternal , broken only by the muffled noises of Transley 's outfit trailing down to the Y.D. Linder , foreman and head teamster , cushioned his shoulders against his half load of hay and contemplated the scene with amiable satisfaction . The hay fields of the foothills had been a pleasant change from the railway grades of the plains below . Men and horses had fattened and grown content , and the foreman had reason to know that Transley 's bank account had profited by the sudden shift in his operations .