The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1880-06-26
Rocky Mountain Nights.


alienation of sunlight and changing
shadow, the rustling leaves and fragrant
shrubbery underneath, the variety of
foliage and bark to rest the eye and ex-
cite curiosity and delight. Only the
straight, upright trunks, the colorless,
dusty ground, the dense masses of dead
green, each mass just like another, the
scraggy skeletons of dead trees, all their
bare limbs dropping in lamentation.
The sound. of the wind in the pines is
equally grewsome. If the breeze be
light you hear low, melancholy
monody; if stronger, a hushed sort of
signing. When the hurricane lays his
hand upon them, the groaning trees
wall out in awful agony, and, racked
beyond endurance, cast themselves
headlong to the stony ground. At such
times every particular fiber of the pines
body seems resonant with pain, and the
straining branches literally shrek. This
is not mere fancy, but something quite
different from any thing to be observed
in hard wood forests. There the tenn
pest roars; here it bowls. do not
think the idea of the Banshee spirits
could have arisen elsewhere than among
the pines; nor that any mythology
growing up among people inhabiting
these forests could have omitted such
supernatural beings from its theogony.
But do not conclude that the gloom
of the pine woods clouded our spirits.
So many trees had fallen where our
tents were pitched that the sun got down
there, and at night the moon looked in
upon us, rising weird through vista of
dead and lonely tree-tops. Then, too,
the brook was always singing in our
ears-absolutely singing! The inces-
SAINT tumble of the water and boiling of
the eddies makes heavy undertone like
over the higher rocks and leaping of the
foam down the cataracts, produce dis
tinctly musical sound-a mystical ring
ing of sweet-toned bells. There is no
installing this metallic melody, this
clashing of tiny cymbals, and it must be
this miniature blithe harmony which
fine ears have heard on the beach in
summer, where the surf broke gently.
But these are drowsy fancies, and one
night of such sleepless dreaming is about
all a healthy man can afford out of a
whole trip; and if he is not healthy
man he had better not go into the Wind
River Mountains at all.
Sometimes one is kept awake by
worse disturbances than reveries,
though not often. With complete COM
posure, you sleep through steady rain
falling on the piece of canvas laid over
your face, or in momentary expectation
of being surprised by Indians. 1 have
heard of a few camps in the old days
having been run over by a stampede of
buffaloes now and then, but this, for
tunately, was rare. Now, few worse
Interruptions of this sort occur to rest
than the tramping among the sleepers
of mules, in their attempt to make some
felonious attack upon the edible portion
of the cargo, and this only occurs where
pasturage IS scant; once, camping near
Mexicen pack-train of donkeys, we
were thus greatly annoyed by-those lit
tie brutes.
Now and then on the plains, coyotes
venture close to camp, and, if they are
very hungry, even come to the fireside
in search of meat, and perhaps attempt
to gnaw the straps off the saddle or
boots your weary head reclines upon.
Fooled in this, they adjourn to respect
full distance and set up prolonged and
lugubrious howls, which either keep you
awake altogether or attune your dreams
to some horrible theme. Perhaps I
ought not to use the plural, since one
coyotes voice is capable of noise
enough to simulate whole pack. No
doubt it often happens that when a
score seem bowling in shrill concert,
there is really but a single wolf rain
ing his quick-repeated and varied cries
upon our unwilling ears. These small
wolves are justly despised by all West
ern men; but the big gray wolves are
different matter. However, never
saw them but once.
While cougars and wolves and coy
otes, and even Mexican burroS, are rare
infringers on the sacred privacy of your
sleep, numerous sssmall deer" come to
investigate the curious stranger who has
stretched himself out in their domain.
Rattlesnakes are extremely numerous
over many parts of the West, and we
used to fear that, with their love OF
warmth, they would seek the shelter OF
our bedding to escape the chill of the
night; uuI uO Ho6 KNOW Vi any Sucn
an unpleasant bed-fellow having been
found by any of the survey people.
myself came pretty near to it, however,
over on Cochetopa Creek, in Colorado,
one night, when l unwittingly spread
my blankets over small hole in the
ground. / snoozed on, unmindful OF
danger, but when | moved my bed in
the morning, out from the hole crawled
huge RATHER, whose doorway had
stopped up all night! He would better
have stayed in, for big John of Oregon
caught him by the tail and broke his
stupid neck, before he had time to
throw himself into coil of vantage for
the strike.
If you camp in the woods you are GER.
tain of late visitors in the shape of mice
and the ubiquitous and squeaky ground.
squirrels, whose nocturnal rambles lead
them all over your bed-covers; often,
indeed, their rapid, sharp-toed little feet
scud across your cheek, and their furry
Jalis trail aGnwart the bridge of your
nose and brush the dew from YOU
sealed eyelids. To the thousand insects
rustling in the grass we never gave at
tention; and not even the most home
hred tandar-foot ever hO7lnhE of cotton