in the carquinez woods

In the Carquinez Woodsby Bret HarteCHAPTER I.The sun was going down on the Carquinez Woods. The few shafts ofsunlight that had pierced their pillared gloom were lost inunfathomable depths, or splintered their ineffectual lances onthe enormous trunks of the redwoods. For a time the dull red oftheir vast columns, and the dull red of their cast-off bark whichmatted the echoless aisles, still seeme