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out； in the hours that followed not a sigh of wind had shaken
the treetops； and our barrack； for all its breaches； was less
fresh that morning than of wont。 But I had no sooner reached
the window than I forgot all else in the sight that met my
eyes； and I made but two bounds into my clothes； and down the
crazy plank to the platform。
The sun was still concealed below the opposite hilltops；
though it was shining already； not twenty feet above my head；
on our own mountain slope。 But the scene； beyond a few near
features； was entirely changed。 Napa valley was gone； gone
were all the lower slopes and woody foothills of the range；
and in their place； not a thousand feet below me； rolled a
great level ocean。 It was as though I had gone to bed the
night before； safe in a nook of inland mountains； and had
awakened in a bay upon the coast。 I had seen these
inundations from below； at Calistoga I had risen and gone
abroad in the early morning； coughing and sneezing； under
fathoms on fathoms of gray sea vapour； like a cloudy sky … a
dull sight for the artist； and a painful experience for the
invalid。 But to sit aloft one's self in the pure air and
under the unclouded dome of heaven； and thus look down on the
submergence of the valley； was strangely different and even
delightful to the eyes。 Far away were hilltops like little
islands。 Nearer； a smoky surf beat about the foot of
precipices and poured into all the coves of these rough
mountains。 The colour of that fog ocean was a thing never to
be forgotten。 For an instant； among the Hebrides and just
about sundown； I have seen something like it on the sea
itself。 But the white was not so opaline； nor was there；
what surprisingly increased the effect； that breathless；
crystal stillness over all。 Even in its gentlest moods the
salt sea travails； moaning among the weeds or lisping on the
sand； but that vast fog ocean lay in a trance of silence； nor
did the sweet air of the morning tremble with a sound。
As I continued to sit upon the dump； I began to observe that
this sea was not so level as at first sight it appeared to
be。 Away in the extreme south； a little hill of fog arose
against the sky above the general surface； and as it had
already caught the sun； it shone on the horizon like the
topsails of some giant ship。 There were huge waves；
stationary； as it seemed； like waves in a frozen sea； and
yet； as I looked again； I was not sure but they were moving
after all； with a slow and august advance。 And while I was
yet doubting； a promontory of the some four or five miles
away； conspicuous by a bouquet of tall pines； was in a single
instant overtaken and swallowed up。 It reappeared in a
little； with its pines； but this time as an islet； and only
to be swallowed up once more and then for good。 This set me
looking nearer； and I saw that in every cove along the line
of mountains the fog was being piled in higher and higher； as
though by some wind that was inaudible to me。 I could trace
its progress； one pine tree first growing hazy and then
disappearing after another； although sometimes there was none
of this fore…running haze； but the whole opaque white ocean
gave a start and swallowed a piece of mountain at a gulp。 It
was to flee these poisonous fogs that I had left the
seaboard； and climbed so high among the mountains。 And now；
behold； here came the fog to besiege me in my chosen
altitudes； and yet came so beautifully that my first thought
was of welcome。
The sun had now gotten much higher； and through all the gaps
of the hills it cast long bars of gold across that white
ocean。 An eagle； or some other very great bird of the
mountain； came wheeling over the nearer pine…tops； and hung；
poised and something sideways； as if to look abroad on that
unwonted desolation； spying； perhaps with terror； for the
eyries of her comrades。 Then； with a long cry； she
disappeared again towards Lake County and the clearer air。
At length it seemed to me as if the flood were beginning to
subside。 The old landmarks； by whose disappearance I had
measured its advance； here a crag； there a brave pine tree；
now began； in the inverse order； to make their reappearance
into daylight。 I judged all danger of the fog was over。
This was not Noah's flood； it was but a morning spring； and
would now drift out seaward whence it came。 So； mightily
relieved； and a good deal exhilarated by the sight； I went
into the house to light the fire。
I suppose it was nearly seven when I once more mounted the
platform to look abroad。 The fog ocean had swelled up
enormously since last I saw it； and a few hundred feet below
me； in the deep gap where the Toll House stands and the road
runs through into Lake County； it had already topped the
slope； and was pouring over and down the other side like
driving smoke。 The wind had climbed along with it； and
though I was still in calm air； I could see the trees tossing
below me； and their long； strident sighing mounted to me
where I stood。
Half an hour later； the fog had surmounted all the ridge on
the opposite side of the gap； though a shoulder of the
mountain still warded it out of our canyon。 Napa valley and
its bounding hills were now utterly blotted out。 The fog；
sunny white in the sunshine； was pouring over into Lake
County in a huge； ragged cataract； tossing treetops appearing
and disappearing in the spray。 The air struck with a little
chill； and set me coughing。 It smelt strong of the fog； like
the smell of a washing…house； but with a shrewd tang of the
sea salt。
Had it not been for two things … the sheltering spur which
answered as a dyke； and the great valley on the other side
which rapidly engulfed whatever mounted … our own little
platform in the canyon must have been already buried a
hundred feet in salt and poisonous air。 As it was； the
interest of the scene entirely occupied our minds。 We were
set just out of the wind； and but just above the fog； we
could listen to the voice of the one as to music on the
stage； we could plunge our eyes down into the other； as into
some flowing stream from over the parapet of a bridge； thus
we looked on upon a strange； impetuous； silent； shifting
exhibition of the powers of nature； and saw the familiar
landscape changing from moment to moment like figures in a
dream。
The imagination loves to trifle with what is not。 Had this
been indeed the deluge； I should have felt more strongly； but
the emotion would have been similar in kind。 I played with
the idea； as the child flees in delighted terror from the
creations of his fancy。 The look of the thing helped me。
And when at last I began to flee up the mountain； it was
indeed partly to escape from the raw air that kept me
coughing； but it was also part in play。
As I ascended the mountain…sid