Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1856-01-12
MISCELLANY.
[From the Pioneer, California Magazinc.l
A sTEEPLE CHASE ON THE PRAI.
RIES.

The first day of June, 1910! Six years
ago How stranger than fiction il seems that
on this sixth anniversary of that ever eventful
day. after traversing all the vcssitudes of ex-
perience, after boxing the compass Of life's
stormy sea and shaking hands with every ex-
tremity of fortune, should lie seated at last
in this quiet little sanctum the hum Of that
mighty city, which was then the goal Of our
hopes, around me- the wild freedom of the il
limitable praires exchanged for the confines of
dingy office my snortng charger discarded for
this old arm chair; the badge of the pioneer
laid aside for more peaceful but mightier
weapon, this 'gray goose quill"
Yes Six long years Of stern experience, of
lonely wsnderings, of ever changing, never
ceasing toll and turmoil, have changed the boy
into the man; the youthful romance of the eman-
cipated student, into the stern, fixed purposes,
the utiltarian views of the slave of business.
But have all their stormy vicissitudes and wild
excitements blolted from the mind the fearful
memories of that terrific scene, long ago. when
the tyro of the wilderness first looked on DEATH
All, no On this sixth anniversary Of that
memorable day the thronging memories Of that
fearful hour crowd thick upon me, The first
sudden moment of alarm that terrible wat
whoop, bursting from fifty savage throats the
reckless desperation, the thrilling excitement Of
that wild chase of eight miles, with fifty paint
ed demons sailing after me on their wild mus
tangs, the appalling fear, as the sweat gathered
on the hanks of my flying gray, and the foam
flew from his heaving nostrils, lest his strength
and bottom should fail me in my dire extremi
ty; and above all, the exuliing thrill of graf
itude and rapture when the white wagon-top
sof my comrades hove in sight, as we few ovel
the summit Of the last hill that divided us from
safety, and the wild howl of the baffled hord'
burst on my startled ears-all, all come back
nothing is forgotten that unspeakable revulsol
of feeling, when my frightened steed rnshe'
into camp, and, his duty done, his force spent
his powers exhausted, dropped almost liieles
to the earth, as reeled from the saddle an
fervently thanked that Providence who ha
looked down upon and protected me in my fear
ful need.
1t was on this day six years ago. Eighty
FIVE of us, weary wanderers over the trackles
prairies, were month after month toiling onwar
10 this distsn, land of gold, whose lofty sierra
and summer plains have since gathered to the
eternal embraces SO many member of that ga
liant, youthful band. Ii was Sunday in III
wilderness, the wagons all "carralled" on III
banks of the "Little Blue - the ,oil-wor
mules scattered around, joyfully cropping tn
virgin grass under the watchful vigilance of Il
guard. Some of the party were bathing
the clear stream, some cooking, mending cloth'
washing, lounging, or smoking, and all enjo
ing to the full glorious sunshiny day of re
and Incidence, when some evil genius possess'
me with the sudden desire to be the first of Il
party to slay the long-expec,ed "butfalo," I
animal we had not yet encountered, but whit