The Albany register. [volume] (Albany, Or.) 1868-18??, 1875-04-09

the eyes might betray me. thought 1
was SAFE l sat and talked. Then, all
at once, I knew that the horror had come |
upon him, and that he saw. He said
nothing he moved not. Yet / knew
that the brand was laid bare to his eyes.
Some power could not resist compelled
me to look up-to meet his gaze. read
In his eyes the horror.
1.-The brand of Cainl The brand of
Cain Oh, God! it is upon me For
days and DAYS I have wandered in the
mountains, thirsting, hungering, trem-
bling at the stir of leaf. Yet death
comes not to me. The wild beasts avoid
me- The savages pass me by, and harm
me not. I suffer, faint-but do not die.
ga hope has come to me wandering
here alone. Strange word hope? A
hope born of despair. I viii go back.
cannot fee from the burning eye OF God.
1t searches me out in the mountains. 1t
| glares upon me in the lonely desert. 1t
consumes me- will no longer fee. I
| will go back-back where know the
still face is awaiting me- viii kneel by
it; kneeE and lift my hands to heaven
and pray-pray. Pray him, my murder
ed friend, to forgive me; pray God to
look on and pity me
s'Is there hope of pardon2 Oh, it
seems to me, even now, that this brand
upon my forehead grows DINNER. It
seems to me, even now, that the blessed
thought comes like cooling hand to my
feyered brow. Fail not, 0, my wearied
feet. until I reach the side of that still
face; and then will kneel and pray;
until pardon comes to me; pardon-or
4 death 70
4 Here the writing is faded and effaced
] in the book for several pages. I resume
at the point where it again becomes
} legible would only remark that this
4 portion which I cannot decipher,
should judge, from the length of time
necessary to travel from the region
where the last seems to have been
written to the spot indicated in the next
portion, must have covered period OF
several weeks. The record goes on, but
very brokenly:
'sThe end of my wandering draws
near, I am alone in the desert In the
distance I see the hill, SO erlriously align
with the two high hills beyond, behind
which I know the still face is waiting
for me. I come. o, my murdered
friend, pity me! come.
The hot sun pours down upon me.
: have no water. Ny tongue is black anc
bleeding; yet feel no thirst. My brair
is on fire. Yet, one thought only pos
: sesses me-there is the place-there, be
fore me. Many weary miles yet, bu
there will pray. Ny head swims.
/, can-not-see.
'sWhere am I? All. now I recollect
I was walking in the day. 1t is nigh
8 now. 1 must have tainted. I am lyin,
s in the desert. The still moon looks dow
upon me. A strange calm has come owe
me. The night wind doesthot howl a
me now-it only kisses my face. It's Es
y is peace. In the east the flush of tn
g coming dawn reddens the mountai
e tops-not like red blood, but softl
y bright, like the glory about the brow c
u the pitying Christ. I am strangely calm
s Ahi now / know-I am dying-dyine
II o God, let me thank thee at least fo
70 death.
a Strangei no longer feel the bran
1t upon my brow. Is it gone? Has I'll
l, merciful God forgiven me2-forgivel
re and spared me the agony of kneeling
1t that dead face? In the dim light CO
ID see, miles and miles away, the hills
t. the foot of which the dead face lies.
* now know that my feet shall never s
ut to it.
is &c L must have tainted again. The su
IN hangs just above the mountain crest
the east-no longer angry, no longer rt
is like blood. The warm rays touch n
M brow gently as q mothers kiss. I a
es dying. With my last strength WI
ne this, only this more, for hope of pa
en- don-only hope. 0 God-I-thank
a. Thee !''-OuerLaTad Monthly.