Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1886-03-18
HEAD OF OXEN RUN.

1t was day fitted by the gods for
an exploration. There was Il sharp,
wild tinge in the December wind; there
was an alluring haze on the distant hill,
and the great, feecy clouds, rolling
from horizon to horizon, invited us on
ward. LET us find the head of Oxen
Rum my friend had said to me, and l
had willingly agreed. We had tramp
ed to the place where it rippled merrily
along its fertile valley, and had seen it
lounge lazily, as if tired with its long
journey, into the Potomac. We knew
that Mt its mouth it was quite pre-
sumptious stream, but its source was
an unsolved mystery. The maps did
not aid us, for on the only map which
dignified it with a place, it began with a
. few uncertain curves, as if the map
maker didnot really know whether he
was right or wrong.
An hours walk across the Anacostia
bridge. past the little village of Good
Hope. and thence along the Ridge road,
brought US to a rough and rustic bridge.
Leaning on its unsteady rail, we looked
down into the clear waters of the run
Even here the stream was quite wide.
and hurried along with that mir of in
dependence and self-assertion, which, as
in n child, is only acquired some time
after birth II do not think its source
is more than two miles from here"
said nv companion, whereupon the
stream with all its ears open, laughed
louder than ever.
1t was perhaps good omen that in a
few moments we found some persim-
mons. If, as Thoreau SAYS. raspber-
ries are the best food for ascending
mountain, surely persmmons are the
proper sustenance on Il winters walk
when one is exploring a stream. They
have such an out-dOor-flavor; they are
wild, they are juicy, they are sweet.
They impart to ones blood wintry
exhilaration, the d. combined essence of
sunshine and frost. When ! tramp in
the spring-time l find that + carry off
something from the sapplings against
which / brush. l imbibe the inspira-
ton of the new sap in their veins. |
catch something of their elasticity,
their power to lift themselves back to
be once more tall and shapely, though
they were bent to the ground. A sub
tie spirit imparts a lithesomeness to my
step. But in winter the persimmon i'm
parts hardness and endurance. /
wonder if it has the power to change
heart, that like itself, was hard and
sour, into sweeter morsel for the en-
iovment of the world.
There is considerable color to be noted
in the landscape as we follow the mean
dering of the stream. The hillsides are
warm and brown, the sumach is still
red and the smilax berries are blue; the
tall sedge grass is rs yellow us field
in harvest time, and there are bits of
green in the sheltered hollows of the
brook The tInts may not be prettily
blended. but they are well defined. and
YOU feel that Nature, even in winter is
not wholly given over to monotony and
death. Beneath the warm covering of
dead leaves / found clump of green
clover, doing its best to keep up the
pulsations of its tiny heart until the
springtime This life and this beauty
would have been hid from us forever
but for our search; but the death and
corruption in yonder field is advertised
TO the whole country by the half-hun-
dred buzzards who rise in alarm at our
approach
A mile further on the stream is not
so wide or deep. Here, for the first
time since we left the road, we meet a
human being-a boy. He looks at us
in. mute surprise His hat is thrown
back from his face, and he stands with
his hands thrust into the pockets of his
homespun suit.
'When will we reach the head of this
stream" | ask.
Never
The reply was prompt and decisive.
To the boy the stream was n sealed look
beyond the hills that bounded his hori-
Zon. 1t began for him in the remote
Somewhere and ended in the more dis
tant PARKWAY. And yet, so far as il
related to his own environment the
stream had peculiar interest for him.
In the hole in front of us he had caught
the largest iron-back mullet which that
part of the country had ever seen. 1t
was so large that he thought it Was a
snake. and he had to kill it with stone.
Then. had we noticed q broken dam
below? Yes. Well. the boys had made
that dam for swimming pool; but
some negro girls had used it one morn
ing for the same purpose, and on DO.
ing discovered had torn it down out OF
pure vexation. Did we believe rab-
bit could be ghostP We did not. The
boy was not so positive. Over in yonder
field rabbit was frequently started by
the dogs. 1t ran for certaine distance
and then disappeared, leaving.no trace.
There was no hole, it simply vanished.
Even this lonely tract, therefore, was
on its way to civilization. 1t had its
tragedy, It's social events, and its super.
stitions.
What chase that stream led us
Sometimes it would leave its narrow,
gravelly bed and spread itself out ovei
several square yards of swamp. Then
would We think that we had pinned oui
game and congratulate ourselves upor
the capture. But upon the other side
of the swamp. when we had made the
circuit, we find fresh trail. leading