Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1880-01-24
THE PROLOGUE.
THE LEGEND OF THE SILVER ISLE.

PART 1.-THE ExPIATIoN.--(Continued,l
His hut being built, he set to work
upon the task he had determined to per-
form. Cutting down huge pine tree, he
dragged it inch by inch, to clearing in
front of his hut. The labor was herculean,
and no man but one possessed of enormous
physical strength and amazing inward sus.
tanning power could have accomplished it.
He Topped off the branches, and cleared
the tree of all excrescences, and when the
huge plain trunk was before him, he be-
gan to fashion it into the image of the
Savior stretched upon the Cross. The base
of the tree, which was of astonishing girth,
formed the apex of the design, and ad-
mitted of the carving of the outstretched
arms. In storm and sunshine, by night
and day, the man pursued his work. He
lived upon roots and water, and passed
through sickness and fever, without abat-
ing one jot of his energy, in which, could
it have been witnessed, would have been
discerned the consuming strength of de-
spair and remorse concentred upon one
supreme effort. The seasons changed +;
the leaves grew green and withered, and
again enjoyed their lives OF youth
and beauty, and the man never
ceased from his labor Year after year
passed, and still the man was employed
upon the task. His form could be dimly
seen by the islanders in the plains and val
leys, and after time he was looked upon
as something more than mortal. No man
ventured near him, but he dwelt in the
minds of all. Women spoke of him with
hushed voices, and children, looking up to
the nights upon which he worked, quickly
shut their eyes, as though blight would
have fallen on them had they continued to
gaze upon the strange shadow which never
for moment seemed to rest from its labor.
At length, after a decade of years had
passed, the priest of the Silver Isle called
the old men around him, and announced
his intention of visiting the sinner, saying
humanity demanded it. His story was
still fresh in the minds of the white haired
men, and although not one of them, with
the exception of the priest, would have
touched the sinners hand in friendship,
time had weakened their resentment against
him.
''Terrible was his crime, said the priest,
terrible has been his self-inficted punish
ment. 1t will be work of mercy to pour
oil upon his wounds. p"
They offered to accompany MIN, but he
said he would go alone it would be best.
So, with their sanction, he departed, and
when he returned, told them in voice
broken by emotion the story of his mission.
"When he saw me walking up the
mountains side towards him, he stood and
watched me- l am old, and my limbs are
feeble, but he made no effort to assist me !;
he simply waited to learn my errand. l
was supported by God, or l should never
have reached his hut. So rugged is the
road, and so beset with difficulty and dan
ger, that l often had to creep upon my
hands and knees for an hour and more, and
to walk long distances on narrow, precipi-
tous paths, where slip of the foot would
be fatal. arrived at the end of my jour-
ney on the noon of the second day, and
stood face to face with the man whose word
for many years was law in our isle. All,
my friends you would not recognize him,
SO changed is he You will recall him as he
was in the pride of his youth, a tall and
handsome man, 1.-the and erect, with stall
wart limbs, and eyes bright as an eagles.
All this strength and beauty have van
ished, as though they had never been. His
body is but skin and bone, his face is pitt
fully haggard, he is wasted almost to a
shadow. Remembering what he was, re-
Numbering that | had nursed him on my
knee when he was an innocent child, my
heart overdowed into my eyes as 1 gazed
upon the wreck of grandeur and nobility
saw before me. I held out my hand to
him he kept his arms folded on his breast.
[ addressed him in words Of kindness he
replied not a word.
"If l sand, your vow OF silence
weighs upon you, and prevents you from
answering me, 1 absolve you from it. In
Gods name, l absolve you. Through me,
His priest, He bids you speak, He BIDS
you pray.
&c saw that he knew the meaning of my
words 1t would not have been strange
had he, living for so long time his terri
BILE life of loneliness, lost all understanding
of his language But he had not he fol-
lowed my words, but he made no response
to them knelt and prayed. l prayed
for him, sinner; in his name l made to
God confession of his crime for him and
for myself, humbled myself before the
Divine Throne, and duplicated for mercy
and forgiveness. He did not would not,
kneel beside me he stood and listened in
silence For an hour prayed and talked
and the man might have been made of
stone, SO unmoved did he appear. Faint
with my exertions, asked if he would per-
nit me to enter his hut, and seek for food
He said neither yea nor nay. l entered
his hut. Dear friends, my heart bled
as | looked around. The walls of the
hut are bare, the ground is stony, and
there is no place but the earth to rest
the weary limbs. During all these
years, the man has lived in that drear
habitation, with roots for his food, with
stones for his bed, without complaining.
What mortal can do, 1 thought, to expiate
his sin, this man has done. Surely he is
forgiven Upon the ground inside the
hut / found some roots and these were
the only food his dwelling contained. l
l-o..-l. +ba,, onf and ate them in his