New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1875-02-28

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forms of rough clad men gathered abou,
!, the camp fire, and beyond them a rude
CABIN OF UNMARKED logs, looking cheerful
enough in the rosy light.
There was nothing love!ier than this or
iDDTe characteristic in the glorious ride
over the Sierras-no. even the lake, above
whose green shores We rushed WITH half 4,
mountain between us, nor the ice gOrges,
nor the black forests, nor TIE chaos OF rock
aud r.y,Dc that has detied the humanizing
touch OF time. ! felt the burden Of the
mountains then, and Il IS forever associated
with memory Of the hIgh Sierras, caught
and fixed az We swept inward ;nto the wild,
| wide snow lands
The burden Of the mountains: There shall
come day when the ravine for the silver is
drained and the gold seekers turn from thee
| discoDsClate, but thy years are uECum bered
and thy strength unfalliDg; the grass shall
cover thy nakedness am. the pine bougis
brood over thee TOR ever aud ever. the
clouds shall visit tEeo and the springs in
crease; the SHOWS shall gather in the clefts
Of thy boaolD, thy breasts shall give nour
ishnent thy breath life TO The f4inting. and
the sight of thy face JOY. The people shall
go np to thee and build in thy shadow: their
| tfock5 hhal. feed in peace; out of thy days
shall come fatness. and ont Of thy nights
rest, for thou hast tnat within thee more
precious than silver. yea, better than much
Tine gold
When the burden vas pas. [ looked out
| into the right A soft wind was stirring:
l scented the balsarl of the ping
woods; The moon had descended be-
yond the rest o. the mountain. and
above me tho sky was flooded with pale
and papitat,ng stars. We Slid out Of the
mountains INTO the broad Humboldt desert
one cioudless day; il was like getting on
the roof of the w0rid-the great domed
| Of ;tI, cl1y, . ,1-,dnr no
edge o. heaven, and whereOn there is
nothing but mating OF sage-brush, look
| ing Ike gray:sh Moss and deep aikah
| dust AZ white and as tine az -four.
! There were but two features ia the land
scape on which to fix the eye, and these
| were untrenuent-the dusty beds OF the
dead rivers and the vind scu ptured rocks.
1t was the abomination OF Cesoiatlon the
air was tbia, but spicy; the sky was bare.
When we had followed with eager glance
the sbadow-like gazaIle in his bounding
flight, and brought the heavy headed buffalo
to mOmeDtary stand, with his email evil |
eye fixed upon us, he wheeled suddenly and |
disappeared 10 cloud Of dust. and We |
were alone N the desert.
Those mellow hours b. the inland sea. /
where sits the Garden Cry. With rs wide |
grass grown streets and rs vine-veiled cot
tages basking n summer sunshine, were
precious indeed We had ample oppor-
tunity for developing philosophy. sentiment
and politics at one sitting. Coming out of
the fair and foul -efuge Of the r'eshy saints,
/ thought of The wisdom Of the French
poet who once said 70 NE. ''Oui, monsicur:
life is an oasis IN which there is many
desert" In the unfruitful shoots of those
thorn bearing vines and witheTed fig trees |
learned the burden of the desert. Though
it blossom az the rose, II It .eid not honey
it shall be laid waste; though it deck itself
with beauty. though Il sing with the voice
of the chariner. Its fairness is 4 mock and
its song Is the song OF the harlnr Earbor
it not in your hearts. Lee it he purged of
let the stain tie washed from
it. Though the builders build cunnngly. |
they have builded IN vain. There is blood
on their lintols, and their hearts are fall O.
lust. He that sits IN the seat of the scorntu
and is girded about with pride, let him fall
as the tree talls,even the king OF the forest,
for there Is rottenness at the core.
Like pilgrims in the earthly paradise We
plowtd the long grass of the praries; like
4 fiery snake oar tIair tralied over the
lowering and: It's long EndulationS were
no impeachment: the grassy pillows parted |
before us; we cleft the young forests that
nave here and there sprung up AZ the call
IF patient husbandry; myriads Of wild fowl
Wheeled over the fragrant and boundiess |
ields; every flower in the Hocal calendar
seemed a. home in those meadow lands of |
he world; the sunset was not more glorious
han the gentle slopes that swept to our
eet like a long wave of the sea. and then
,roke in foam OF flowers. Not only was
he delicious day proTulse-cTammcd, but the .
hight, loud with the chrp OF the cricket !
md the cry of the sentinel owl seemed the
ealization OF some splendid dream.
Out of the redundant and prophetic :
ife Of that Land | heard a prophecy, and /
he prophecy was tho burden or the
'rait!es. 1t Is the chant Of the future,
u!l of life ind LOpe. | SEQ now rows
# men and women, the toilers Of tue | L
arth; they have planted forests and the l
trong wind is stayed; they have broken Ii
he soil, and the grain IS breast high: t
hey are merry, for they ara frae, and their L
torres inc rease with the years. Wine and u
ii are their portion, AMI fat kline and all p
lanner of cunning workmanship; their v
ites are greater and better than the old il
ites. for they arc bulded on virgin soil o
nd the day sna.l come when the Jubilee OF Il
he piaiIies will assemble the hosts from a
le borders Of the two seas, and they will | RI
ear their praises srng and receive tribute, ! IL
y the strength Of the land is theirs
Aud we came into other countries that | a
ere full Of people, and of cltiee great ard lie
nall. A thousand strange faces were d
!rned upon us az we shot past the open | Il
cora OF houses wherein tho tabis was | fe
!
le tield laborers and tho town artisans at b.
leir toll and every hour plunged deeper 81
I'd deeper into tho Old civilization of the bt
asst which IN some respects differs It
'eafly from that Of our breezy West. III
Has time to be thinking on my 70
urpey'a end and its probable IT. fe
Ilts. see,ned to read it all before W
md; Ellen would greet me at the gate of tr
e parsonage on the edge Of Heaitease.
ok.ng Just as sEe looked when parted az
18th her long, long years before. Ellen eli
I'd not changed with time; she had written he
g tho same, sweet, placid. sympathetic til
tiers from the beginning, and the Begin 81
ng was when. a mere child. had worn Sc
It my heart with longing for home, and W.
I'd ~ last been welcomed back over the TO
20 seas and across the slender chain of lei
wers that bind the two Americas together, pc
ok to the land l. love, California. Ellen IN,
)uld lead me IN all the old paths; we wi
,ulu see the garden in which, as beauti- gil
boy, more than once sought her to CON i'll
a some griei, knowing there was no ear ho
wiling az hers, no heart :enderer, 10 Wa
unset moro comforting. We would row at
the stream that runs under the hill by OIL
3 Willows, and strand in the same shall
v nook, in honor of the festa SATURDAYS
nd and gone We would gather the old
ends about us, and eat very large the
Piles by the study window; we
uid hunt nest IN the haylott lat
acorns in the wood: the
lOol room would take US back again. and in.
the halt Obli:erated memories Of the past rer
uld glow with tresher color. A hundred wa
ads would be stretched out to me. and he,
uld recognize the clasp of each. All, ag'
Dpy day VIXEN / again returned to Hearts. tai
% and found the lost thread of my youth na
broken, and l had only to weave on and Str
nplete the fabric 80 long neglected ter
here were dozen trains to enter and VIII
ont of hefora I rOuld he vhirlad oorooo Ia I