Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1892-09-16
The white Death.

The white death is a naked. cleaning.
shifting flood of sand, moving ever inland
from the ocean shore. inch hv nch, foot hy
foot, in huge white waves OF glisteniuE grit.
memorable as fate. silent as the grave, swai-
lowing and destroying everything. that lies
before 10 in lis way The wind blows the
shifting surface up the crest of each tower
ing wave and over the edge in a sparkling
mist Beyond the crest the dry mist falls,
and so the wave moves steadily. restiesslv
forward enveloping all things In a univer-
sal white
Standing al the edge of a marshy fiat.
the eve looks far away across the level of
coarse sedgegrass TO the white line of the
sand hills and the black line OF pine woods
in the distance. Here and there the fiat is
lush and green. where shallow lakes. bloom
ing with white lilies and blue arrow-heads.
battle the arid soil: here and there il is
burned yellow and brown where the hot
smooth sand. stretching in from the ocean
shore, drinks up water and life, and leaves
all dead. That level fiat, reaching far
away into the distance, is like the plane of
life one has to travel; the black streak Of
a gloomy pine woods is the valley OF shad-
ows, and the white waving line of sand is
a likeness of death; and as in real life, SO
sinister seen from such distance.
To travel across the level fiat Is a mimic
image OF the journey of life. The lakes, SO
pretty in the distance, are muddy. and smell
rank and dank TO the noStrils they are
full of tadpoles and lizards and crawling
things. Here and there little deserts Of
arid sand are passed: they burn the soles
of the feet. and scOrch the face with a re-
Elected glare, and mosquitoes rise in clouds
like petty troubles, to bite and sting. There
are quiCksands under the feet where the
] grass looks the freshest and the greenest,
and hiding the dead levels of sand, a mirage
covers the desolation with soulless sheet
OF visionary water.
First come the hot black shadOws-the
shadows of the pines-and then the foot
hills as it were of death. Al is breathless
silence. except for the shrieking of the fish
hawk high in the air and the strange mys
terious whispering of the ceaselessly NOV
ing and shifting sand Here and there a
stark gray tree trunk. already dead in the
clutch Of the oncoming death, reaches help
less skeleton arms up into the air. Each
is an empty hollow shell of bark: each is
soulless and void of life, excepting per
haps. for a nest of woOdpeckers or of mice
"a squalid metempsychoss of the spirit OF
the pine-tree.
Beyond the foothills lies, grim and still
the silent bosom of the white death-hill.
and valleys of lifeless sand, binding, burn
ing parched and dry. The air is like tn,
blast from a fiery furnace, and a breathles,
curtain of silence stretches between tn,
glare of the sky above and the whispering
wilderness beneath. The sliding feet sinl
deep into the shifting surface, and thu
traveller stands face TO face with Israfae
in simile
So the gates of death are passed, and tn,
journey is ended.
Then suddenly, as the head rises abov,
the crest of the last white wave, all is in
stantly transformed. The last hill is climb
ed with painting breath, and then dealt
itself is left behind
Before the eye there stretches away tn,
eternal ocean, a glorious purple sparklin!
with dancing whte-caps and dotted will
shining sails. The ceaseless surf Shout
jubilantly on the beach, and the cool al
PUSHES upward, bathing the hot face lik
the breath of a newer and purer life. TIL
ocean, the sails, the rushing breeze all tel
of something vast and limitless that lie
beyond.
Behind was left the limited plain, bound
ed by the black shadows and the whit
death. Before is an image of limitles
immensely. Magazine