The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1886-10-08
A FORTUNATE ANGLER.
The Best Catch of Young
Mans Life.

Mans Life.
They were summering in the Santa
Cruz mountains, the most delightful
place in the most delightful State in
the Union. The days were long, but
full of the interest that extended ram
bles and sylvan discoveries confer A
line stream, in which one could wade
or battle to hearts content, kept up its
ceaseless conversation, like the hum OF
near and tar voices. How beautiful in
the early morning was the light falling
on the ranks of giant redwoods; and
surely there never was q blucr, purer
sky than that bent above it all!
Amy Desart, book in hand, sauntered
down leafy path, on which faint rays
of light from the far sky sifted down
through the redwoods' odorous branch
cs, glinted on their Scared trunks, and
fell like silver arrows into the rich
shade of the forest. The book she car
Iried was a preteXt The day was for
dreaming, and what printed page could
charm the eye, when there were a
thousand distractions tempting the
curiosity and challenging the admira-
ton of healthy nature? If bumbling
bee, a vagrant bird, clump of yellow
violets or broad golden backh were
enough to speak to q poetic soul, on
charm an artists eye, who could tire of
watching the grander beauties of red
wood forest, or weary Of the sudden
glimpses through opened boughs of
the sublime blue mountains? So a
book was quite q useless thing to Miss
Amy Desart, but at the same time her
habitual companion.
She was aroused from her law
dreaming by loud halloo. Indeed,
she was not Immediately aroused, for
the hallooing had been going on for
quite respectable length of time be-
fore her drowsy consciousness stirred
to the effect of something unusual; for
Ihallooing, save for owls, was by no
means common in those silent depths.
Once aroused from her summary stupor,
she listened with growing interests.
The calls continued at intervals, paus-
ing, seemingly in expectation or hope
of some reply. Miss Desart concluded,
as she heard no responsible halloo from
any other part of the forest, that the
call was from some one lost in the will
ldeness. AS soon rs her half somno-
lent brain had formed this conclusion.
her voice took up the idea, and when
another desperate and far away shout
came to her ear, she answered with a
musical call from her vigorous Young
lungs, at the same time going in the
evident direction of the sound.
She was heard, for q responsive call
came in slightly louder tones, so she
knew that, whoever it was, he was
approaching her voice. Making a
trumpet of her hands, she cried:
'LostP'
The answer came quite distinctly,
evidently trumpted in the same man
ner: Eyes.
She lost all her fanguor. Here was
something of lively interest to occupy
her time, "Who are youP" she called.
John Westwood," came the answer.
"Of San Francisco, he continued.
Unhesitatingl she plunged into the
underground and trackless way of the
woods, her guide the voice, which kept
up rather one-sided conversational
that can be called q Conversations
she only answered occasionally to show
him that she was coming. She had no
fear of being lost herself, for she had,
time and again, roamed in the deepest
and widest parts of the forest, which
was full of landmarks for her
"Out hunting and lost anyway,
came slowly and detachedly to hel
ears.
She stopped and said to herself
1--WE mind to leave him to his fate
The idea of Decorating this sacred
place with a shot-gun!"
However, she proceeded to the res
cue, determining to give Mr.. John
Westwood caustIc piece of her minC
when once she had discovered him. (It
is safe to say here, in parenthesis, thai
she forgot her cruel intention long be-
fore she came up to him. She picked
and crashed her way through thu
bushes for mile, it seemed to her, bu
distances are deceptive when you have
TO work your way, At last, he, wait
ing, gave a halloo which sounded alb
surdly loud, when right ON the heels O
it the bushes parted, and radiant
wood-nymph, to be sure, in becoming
costume of buff lawn, the soft, loose
draperies of which she had caught III
to protect them from the brambles, re
vealing thereby the stiff embroidered
Tuffies of an Immaculate skirt, ant
faultlesS feet shod in neat French
walking boots. But her cheeks were
flushed, her eyes were dazzling, and ;
cloud of shining hair rested lightly OIL
her white forehead. Her wide hat
pushed far back on her head by som,
saucy branch, served as a frame to
bewitching face.
She beheld tall young man in hunt
er's buckskin, leaning ON a rifle, Hi
brown eyes were a shade softer THAI
usual, from their WEAKNESS, perhaps
His face was clearly cut, and . darl
mustache adorned his firm lip.
For more than moment they gazet
into each others eyes, then laughed
and bowed. After thanking her en-
Enthusiastically, he said: 81 had no ide;
of compelling a young lady to come Il
my rescue. thought it was DO,