The McCloud Golf Links

(Continued from Page 30) hang like shadows around its base and sides. And there lie nameless small, untrodden valleys, where forest creatures roam in wild, sweet freedom. All this within a single sweep of the vision.

Standing on the Tee at No. 3, one is lost in the grandeur of Mount Shasta, in the north. Like a majestic sentinel it rises, its snow covered peak reaching to the clouds that so often hover about it. Long after twilight has gathered over the golf links below, the sunlight still lingers on Shasta as though loath to leave its rugged crags. And so from every g'reen, tee and fairway nature parades her splendors for the golfer who will but lift his eyes.

Around the course is a fringe of pines, and at the edge of fairways, cool, clear water bubbles unexpectedly, holding nestling watercress above nodding wild flowers. At the seventh fairway, in a deep hollow, is a seepy spring that leads into a dense thicket. This is the golf ball grave- yard. Many are the little, white spheres tf,at have -found their way there and lie buried in the deep grasses and soft, wet earth.

At No. 9, the final hole, comes the realization of time well spent. The golfer has played a sporty course, and one of unsurpassed natural beauty.

R. F. HAMMATT IS IN SAN JOAQUIN VALLEY

R. F. Hammatt, secretary-manager of the California Redwood Association, left San Francisco September 11, for a trip in the upper San Joaquin Valley. He will be back at his office September 17.