Suddenly we find ourselves in a cul-de-sac; the trail coming to an abrupt end.  We retrace our steps, and after much searching, find a narrow trail almost hidden by vines and underbrush.  Venturing in, we follow its tortuous and uneven course along the edge of the canon, and, as the evening shadows gather, and the stars come out one by one, tired and dust-covered, we reach the valley, and enjoy the moonlight ride across the bay to San Francisco.

[Illustration]

Canon and Hillside

Did you ever see the Berkeley hills in the early morning, just before the sun comes stealing over their rounded domes, or in the evening, just before it sinks beneath the waters of the bay, and casts its waning light over their rugged sides?

There never was a more pleasing sight than their uneven profile sharply drawn against the grayish purple.  Watch them as they gradually assume shape out of the decreasing shadows.  The blotches of green and brown take form and grow into canons and gullies, rocks and towers, domes and minarets.  What a place to build a mosque, and say one’s prayers to the rising sun!

Near the Greek Theater, which pushes its vast amphitheater into the heart of the hills, winds a canon, not large and imposing, but very beautiful.  It is called by some, after the policy of the University of California, through whose domain it runs, “Co-ed Canon”; by others, from the abundance of charming blossoms and luscious fruit found upon its rugged sides, “Strawberry Canon.”  But “What’s in a name?” By any other it would be as pleasing.

Trees, gnarled and twisted, reach out their arms across the little brook that sings merrily at the bottom.  Far into the hills it pushes its winding way, and one must needs scramble over many a fallen tree and mossy rock in following its beautiful path.

One cannot see very far ahead, but at each succeeding turn in the trail new wonders open before us.  Here it is so narrow we are compelled to walk in single file, while just beyond it broadens out into a grassy slope, and through an open vista on the right we get a glimpse of Old Grizzly looming up in all its grandeur.  To the left, far above us on the hillside, we can see a large cement “C” some thirty feet in length, placed there by the students of the university to commemorate hotly contested games of football between the two colleges.  With what jealous care is it watched over on the eve of a battle to keep the contesting team from painting it with their college colors!

In this canon we find that pest of nature-lovers who are susceptible to it, the poison oak.  For all its sinister effects, it is a charming shrub so far as appearance goes, with its bright, glossy serrated leaves; but do not invite a too familiar acquaintance, for it is a shrub to be admired at a distance.

[Illustration:  Sunshine and shadow]