♫ 10/320 —
We drew closer and closer to the great mountain on the Northeastern edge of the property. The estate grounds were alive—I was convinced of that. The nearer we drew to the mountain, the larger it grew in all directions. As the caribou drew closer to the mountain their pace quickened. Enthusiasm emanated from the galloping herbivores and suddenly the sound of one waterfall chorused with another, and another, and another.
The wonder of the mountain sang forth in its full astonishing and miraculous nature through the billowing mists of cataracts which wept down its side faces. Into the lovely, lush, billowing mist our friends galloped gleefully. Moments into the caribous waltz into the mist of the mountain's descending cataracts, we could no longer see them, we could only hear them.
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