The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1892-07-22
IN THE MOUNTAINS,
A Description of Nature in Her Most
Majestic Mood.

and prepared to make camp in little
pocket high up in the Rincom noun
tains. 1t had been hard. hot and
march over sandy plain
and up rocky paths where the horsea
could not safely carry their riders. with
the mercury at one hundred and ten
degrees in the shade and the water in
the canteens so thoroughly impreg-
mated with alkali that it was almost
to drink it, The spring that
bubbled ont from under a rock and
lost itself before it had travelled two
hundred feet through the dry rocks
and sand was refreshingly cool, clear
and inviting; the daily downpour
of August had not yet made it's APP
pearance and the men congratulated
themselves that the clear sky gave
promise of dry supper, even though
indicating a drenching later on. For
during the rainy season downpour
once in twenty-four hours can, like
taxes, be depended upon.
The tired horses were lariated out by
their riders whenever the scant heritage
gave promise of at least portion of a
supper. Fires blazed up from the dried
limbs of the stunted mesquite, and cof-
fee, bacon and hard tack were soon
served. Supper over. and the stock
brought in and tied to the picket line,
the men sat down and smoked and Cos
sipcd and looked at their surroundings.
High on every side of them rose the
drcary mountains, their brown, barren
nights pointing high up toward the sky,
the monotonous slopes gashed and
slashed in a thousand pieces by gullics
and ravines, the everlasting rocks and
sands only occasionally relieved by
patches of mesquite or stunted dwarf
oak. Scarcely a sound breaks the soli-
tude; the neighing ola horse, the sharp
bark of a prowling coyote, hunting for
his supper; the disturbing burr" of
nearby rattlesnaxe, soon sent to his
long rest, mayhap the shrill cry of
mountain lion.
As the sun slowly sinks behind the
range he seems as if by balance weight
to bring little dark cloud over the tops
of the opposite mountains. There is
scramble to doff superfuous clothing
and a rush to cover wetable things with
shelter tents and tarpaulins, while
everybody from the cook to the captain,
seeks the lee side of a friendly rock.
The horses are all on one side of the
picket line now, with their sides toward
the setting sun and their tails to the
east. In ten minutes the little cloud
has assumed the proportions of a vast
overhanging pail and the wind begins
to whistle. In fifteen minutes the sky
Is like ink and the rain is rushing down
in torrents, and ten minutes later the
black clouds, vivid lightning and deep
sounding thunder are sllurrying over
the western range after the setting
sun, leaving behind as memento of
their visit, only a magnificent rainbow,
spanning the heavens from horizon to
horizon, wet but cool and clipper
troop of horses, and a big gulley through
the center of the camp where II minia-
ture torrent has plowed its way during
the continuance of the storm. Assem-
bly, for the guard is sounded, and the
sentinels are posted.
Then. as Mr. llaggard would put it,
might comes rushing down over the
earth like "a tangible thing" The MOON
big and round and silvery, comes smil-
ing up over the range and throws the
precipitous heights and dark gullics
into fantastic shapes accentuating what
little beauty they possess, and hiding
their dcformities and in time, glides
softly and almost imperccptibly behind
the high peak opposite, making room
for the countless stars which glisten
down through the clear, pure air from
as beautiful sky as there is in the
world. The sentinel walks and walks,
and looks up into this magnificent vast
ness. and thinks. II is time of silence,
solitude, vastness, beauty. which would
lift mans thoughts above the earth
and make them soar in regions beyond.
But the sentinel is probably trying to
think out a scheme for liquidating his
debts with his pay, or wondering if he
will get enough bacon for breakfast,
and why the gray horse always persists
in hanging himself on the picket line.
Not sound disturbs him, except those
familiar ones Of the movements of the
horses or the occasional ca II of a night
bird which exists. heaven only knows
how. in the midst Of all this barrcnncss.
Possibly it lives on the beauty of the
Arizona stars.
"Who comes there? Halt
"Rclief."
Advance: relief"
Calls we'll
Or it may be:
"Who comes there? Halt"
'Oflicer of the day"
advance, officer of the day"
Calls we'll
And the new sentinel starts on his
monotonods round Of the sleeping sol
dicrs and the restless horses, while the
stars twinkle and flash like diamonds
and the night bird calls. He sits on
friendly rock and takes the risk of steal
ing seven winks of needed sleep, and
awakcs, startled, from doze. Have
his sleepy eyes seen an Indian campfire
signal on IA distant peak? Have his
drowsy ears caught the sounds made by
an approaching enemy? No, not that.
Something is crawling up his leg He
hopes it is lizard He prays it may
be neither snake nor centipcde. With
almost one motion he grasps the creep
ing thing, throws off his boot and