The Sierra citizen., 1854-11-18
For the Citizen.
Sketches from Sierra Valley.
DY ALICE.

DY ALICE.
Tomorrow I'm to bid good bye to oul
ingle nook, lock up the cabin, nail shin
giles across the window, and carry away
the household gods from the dominlons o.
the Storm King. The other day flock
of deer came down the hill behind oul
cabin, stopped at the brook, and seemed
to be holding council whether to leave
their summer haunts, or to remain and be
hunted into the snow banks by their enc.
mics the wolves. They were quite close
to our cabin, and / fancied / could see
them turn their eyes apprehensively toward
the snowy hills, as though they had heard
the storm-spirit marshalling its forces in
the glen. At last, one old fellow with
great wide antlers, probably the patriarch
of the tribe, started down the branch, and
the whole flock soon disappeared among
the trees.
| have already passed one winter here,
shut out from the world, surrounded by
great snow drifts, with no outlet save
toward the sky, and oh how dreary were
those long chilly months that I watched
for the return Of my husband, vino had
been storm-staid; and how anxiously
marked the daily decrease of our little
stock of provisions! I shuddered when
the rude blast shook my dwelling and
swayed the pine trees to ana fro on the
hill. Then | thought of the freezing trav-
eler in the Alps, turning his CLASSY eyes
Heavenward, and trying to brush away
the film of death. Then I imagined that
my husband might be lost in the snow,
and almost fancied [ could near the wolves
fighting at their dreadful carnival. How
earnestly invoked sleep, the brother of
Death then crept to the window to look
for the well known form coming down the
trail But the clouds were gone-the
winds stilled, and the brow Of night was
sparkling with gems, and then / repeated
to myself the lines l learned at school
"Aye gloriously thou standest there,
Beautiful, boundless armament,
That swelling wide DER earth and air,
And round the horizon bent!
With thy bright vault and SAPPHIRE wall
Dost overhang and shelter all.''
Iou need not ask why We built our hut
in this frozen valley? You might as well
ask the emigrant who shoulders his axe
and rife and drives his team into the deep
forest, why he has left the paternal roof
to dispute the soil with the savage. After
all he is in pursuit OF happiness; and
though his children's feet tread painfully
on foreign shore, though the clouds of
misfortune follow in his wake, he thinks
that in the quiet woods, with log cabin
that he can call his own, with its rude
table and stools, he may find that rest and
quiet which he has sought for elsewhere,
in vain.
| do not think that the young wife can
fulfill higher destiny than to bid adieu
to her early home and all she loved, save
one, and to follow him into the untrodden
wilderness. How our hearts warm when
we listen to the stories of our grandmoth-
ers, who lived in the little stockade forts
along the Ohio! Many time, when
little girl, sat covering in the corner,
treasuring up every word of the Indian
story told by the palsied old lady who
lived the other side of the creek. Then
slipping away to bed l covered up my
head and dreamed about Indians chasing
the settlers from the clearing, and burning
their cabins, until l awoke terrified, and
heard nothing bnt the barking of the
house-dog and the soft breathing of my
sweet little sister who had laid her hand
on my cheek. little thought then that
| should ever journey so far toward the
Occident, or sit by an Artemesia fire,
watching the lightning play round the
crags of the Rocky mountains, or listen
to the ringing of the settlers axe in the
Sierra Nevada.
A glorious life is the pioneer's-so full
of wild adventure; sometimes gloomy
enough, but then the clouds float away
and let down a food of sunshine. The
emigrant's wife must'ssuffer and be strong, y
tread lightly life's pathway, skip over the
thorns and briars, and not sit crying and
lamentlng her hard fate, while her husband
Is swinging the axe in the forest, or fol
lowing the plough. So did not the emf
grant mothers of the wost rbon rlvino