Cedar Falls gazette. [volume] (Cedar Falls, Iowa) 1860-1895, 1864-07-15

LOST In THE SlERRAS.
BY DAN DE OUILl.E

BY DAN DE GUILE.
How silent are the Sierras in their topmos,
ieights-where the bare gray leaks stand
, about in groups, holding up between them
| the little platter.like valleys We must "a
and stand on the edge of these valleys. Now
we feel the silence OF the place resting on us
are awed by the tall fownng peaks See
a gloom in the west has risen up and red
deHed, hiding the afternoon sun. What in
this place a lone man and his horsep How
tired are both how slowly drag their steps
| Now they halt. The man turns and looks
about him--thc tired beast hangs its head
and stands motionlesS, glad of Il moments
rest. Before them da,kly frowning, is grey
walled canon. II ia dccp-how deep we can
not see, for in its bottom squats gloomy
Dusk unsmling, save grizzly. she sits how.
ering over the brood of terrors as hen
spreads out her wings over her young. The
| lost stand bcwildered, benumbcd they only
know that they are high up in the Sierras
| Their knees botray their fears and their wea
| riness. How very silent it is here. The tall
gray rocks stand about like voiceless ghosts
| Along the narrow flats and on the steep, I'M
safe slopes are grouped the white bones OF
liieless groves of juniper--they are bleachcd
as stag horns on a plain--as the bones OF
soldiers on a battle field. Did they die OF
the great silence? Evcning is drawing near
but the backness of her robes il not all her
! own. The lost man sees the gathering dark
ness, is uneasy. Winter is near, he knows
the tIeachery of the season; alas, why did
he venture? Gold, for which all risk life,
tempted him. His tagged steed bends bis
ears to and fro uncasi'y, turns and snufs to
wards the west. There is weight,-mosture
in the coming gloom Undecided, the los,
man looks about him: like sea the deep
silence roars in his ears Now fragments of
| clouds, slow moving, approach and drag
along the ground close beside him. Dusk
rises up thrca'enincly from her lair in the
abyss and stands before him she stretches
her arms about the base Of the mountains
her terrors creep along the low Iavinek, skulk
| ing from bush to bush Where shall the
lost mar turn? Hank house dog bays
was that the tinkle of COW bell? No; these
sounds belong miles below echOing memo
| ry for moment cheated him. Hist what
is that like the long drawn sigh Of a ghost
breaks the silence ? How quickly the lost
man turns. Pshaw twas but the voice oil
the wind, awed TO whisper, rebukcd ny the
dread presence Of Silence. lie felt it on his
| check, yet, in that timid whisper, It said
much to him. He understood and shuddcr
ed. His steed dropped his head still lower
and shook his shaggy sides till the pack on
his back clatterea again the poor beast un.
derstood what was whispered by the breeze
There was no snow on his back, not yet, but
he believed what the wind told him. The
clatter OF the pack was not loud, but the lost
man looked quickly about him; he feared
the huge peaks might be startled into anger
Great patches of mist float against the tall,
gray peaks, and breaking roll down their
sides. At last the lost move. Driving the
weary horse before him. the lost man gazes
earnestly toward what looks like the black
shadow of a cloud, dark spot far below
miles away. 1t is grove OF living frees he
sees, tirs in mountain gorge. Rugged are
the ways of the wilderness. and the feet Of
the weary find many stumbling places. -
Weary is the lost man; weary is the beast
he urges Bruises rebuke his haste, and
stubborn shrubs rear their antlered heads
and on his flesh and garments avense his
contempt for them. The wind whispers more
boldly, signs pass along the ground 'Tis
yet far to the grove, to whore the frs stand
dark and silent How timidly the lost man
glances upon the heaped and various rocks
as he hastens past them? H. is foolish to
he afraid. There are no faces looking at him
over their jagged tops--no faces pecping
from their dusky chinks How dark il
grows who can now see the tops of the
hoary peaks around whose eye look into
the darkness at their feet? Soon the ignomes
of the mountains will b. ABROAD the ghosts
of the dead races walk The lost man puts
his hand quickly to his cheek no gazes in
fear on the gloom OF the sky urges his steed
forward with hoarse and hurried voice. for
he has felt the fall Of the FIRST snow fake "
His strange eyes have still in vi.w the dark
frs, but il is still far to their shelter 81
lencc no longer reigns the winds, at frs, so
tmil, have come in all their strength, and
now howl VIGOROUSLY through his domin-
ions. Hark Are not the ghosts of the dead
races at battle with the gnomes No; tits
but the laugh of the gray wolf, seated at the
mouth OF his cave. Now the snow Sits heav
lily down, and YEARLY drag on the horse and
man YEARLY lifting their snow numbered
feet. AT last, oh, at last the shelter Of the
grove is gained. The wolf still is laughing,
seated by bis den; but the shelter OF the frs
is good. the.snow cannot come near, but it
hastens 10 raise a wall about their trees
Grateful is his fire of sticks to the chilled
feet Of the wanderer; tn storm is forgotten
while he SAUNDERS. Let gnomes and ghostIv
warriors battle let the gray wolf laugh on !
The lost man sleeps, and the hungry steed
with his nose in the ernhers. dreams of the
green grass Of the lower valleys. The red
light Of the morning sun burns on the snow
and the sleeping awake. Oh, sun. mock mol
with your brightness for the snow wall IS
high; gazing on It the heart Of the lost man
stands still. The snow laden boughs Of hi
tree are weighed down, they resi- dn the en-
circling drifts. What n swee, fairy palace
our lost man has Blu, he will no, look on
its walls he sits, now. AMI lnntiers Who's
are the names he spea s! Whv do = he no,
be merry and sing and dance in his prntt,
snow mansion? His hands are clasped abou
his knees-he rocks to and fro-ihose are
not tears on his cheek---no, ne is fond of his
pretty house. perhaps. he is about to sing
Why docs he 60 to. his dumb companion and
embrace his neck? Is it for joy5 Why
does the horse lean his head SO quietly against
bis mast r. cheek? He should frsk--frisk!
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