The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1880-12-16

thought of this, and even wondered Il
the other fellow sat there now with his
arm hidden in the darkness of the hall,
where they kept no lamp in summer for
fear OF drawing mosquitoes, trying to
reach round that girl. From mundane
consideration of time on this slide soon
reached my destination. Regarding
my own mental sensations, the trip
seemed one of many minutes. It
was not the bottom of the hill where
l stopped. The bottom of that hill
terminated in the Stanislaus River.
and was preceded by a precipice 200
feet high. Had gone off that my Jour-
ney downward would have been accom-
Pushed on a basis of three of the four
elements known to the ancients, name
| ly, earth, air and water, and from all
accounts, and my own Impressions of
| my deserts at that period, it might have
ultimately terminated in fire. The
snow was soft where I brought up. I
stopped. g 1t is good for me to be
here" l said; 6 here will pass the
night" / possessed little mountain
wisdom and foresaw the impossibilitv
and inutility of making the descent that
night. i had belted to my waist sharp
hatchet. Around me were many dead
pine limbs projecting from the snow.
Ihe mountain side exposure was south
ern. About the roots of great pine
on the little plateauwhere had brought
up. the snow had partly melted away. 1
enlarged the cavity, using the hatchet
as pick and shovel. l made my home
for the night in this cavity. Kindling a
fire with my dead branches, I chopped
directly into it the thick dry bark OF the
pine. This supply of fuel alone was
plentiful and lasted me the entire night.
l disclaim here all intent of posing in
print as hero, for on many occasions
| am disguised by my mental and phys
ical cowardice. But on this particular
night, and it was very long one, felt
no fear; spent it very pleasantly I
cooked and ate and drank nv coffee
with relish. born OF, mountain air and
exercise: My coffee-pot was another
peripatetic appurtenanee belted to nv
waist. Culinarily, Ilwas for myself a
travelling clearinghouse, being guest,
landlord and chambermaid all in one.
The fire blazed cheerfully and the fully
seasoned pine branches soon made q bed
of solid live Goals. My snow hole at
the trees base slowly enlarged as it
melted away. The hillside being in
clined carried away all the moisture.
After supper 1 sang. / felt that here
l could sing in safety and with
out damage to other ears, because
no one could hear me. Music hath
charms to soothe, and all that, but it
must not be savage music Mine at
that time was savage. 1t is now. If IL
feel tendency to infiict any vocal mis-
cry on mankind 1 60 forth into solitude
and commit the outrage on inanimate
and detenseless objects which cannot
strike back. After singing / spoke all
the pieces of my schoolboy days. Il
quoted Shakespeare and really admired
myself in Hamlet's soliloquy. L never
heard more satisfactory rendition.
This was another piece of consideration
for my fellow-beings. Others, less SEN
sltlve to the ill they may do, rush on
the stage and torture audiences. After
the dramatic performance. rehearsed
my political speech. I was even COM
ing from the mountains with full intent
to stand, or rather run, for the Legis-
lature from Tuolumne County, which / |
did, greatly to the misery of the party,
The speech was impromptu.s So the
long night wore away. The day be-
came overcast. The winds occasionally
stirred and moaned through the lofty
pines above me. Then they sank to
soft mournful whispering music and |
ceased. The swapping of the fire. sound
ed sharply in the solitude. From the
river far below came a confused, mur-
muring, babbliDg sound like the clamor
OF some vast, distant multitude, and this
seemed varied at times by cries weird
and louder. Lumps of frozen snow fell
from tree-tops far and near, and as they
struck branch after branch sounded like
the plunging of horsesin the drifts. I
dozed fitfully and awoke with the red
Goals staring me in the face and the
startling realization that the elements
were preparing for heavy storm.
Prentice Mu!tord, IN the San Francisco
Chronicle. "a ~ +f.}
4