The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1901-07-07
The GREAT WEST.
CONTINUED from 9Th page.)

co. Here one may find the exact spot
where he was born to be at ease by choos-
ing an elevation that suits his individual
constitution.
With such a spot in your own country
why dwell in the fogs of London, shiver
in the galleries of Florence, paddle about
the streets of Venice or burn the candle
at both ends in Paris?
If it Isl on historic and literary lines you
would travel, California offers them too
Have you forgotten the history of Spanish
development in that country? Does not the
State abound in old missions and quaint
houses built by Spanish priests and adj
venturers? Then there is the fascinating
past of the Aztecs, and Indian relics and
battleields without number
Despite these things people will persist
in going abroad, and continue to die in
ignorance of their own country.
Is it scenery you like, rather than fine
climate and supreme leisure? That too
sou will get on your way out. along the
Canadian Pacific. beyond anything Swift
The most wild and beautiful pictures
you ever behed-changing from minute to
minute-on every hand. You never saw
such splendid effects of sunlight and mist.
Far up among the clouds tower crag and
snow capped peak; far below, you hear
the river laundering through the rocks.
The fir woods on the hill, fringe the low
or edge with deep tangled wild wood and
fade away in dead trees to the brown
naked rock on the summit around which
the far cloud wreaths intertwist them
selves. Here the sunshine light
the hills or there a cloud darkens them,
while through the higher mists pale
silver thread-a mountain stream--gleams
for moment as you rush along.
Then as the dim twilight comes on the
giant rocks and snowy peaks rise weird
and cold one above the other until they
reach in awful majesty into the very
heavens. Like succession of eternities
filled with 5oundless possibilities of fas-
cination and glamour they seem.
But we were distined to soon see much
Of such phases of nature-to become
scenery-tired. 1t is a country rich
in scenery and when one grows used to q
thing, even to a vision so full of vitality
Of nature, it takes a very little pin mead
of fact held close to the eye to stop it
al out from the consciousness. But II
it did there was pleasantness of another
klnd-there was wide water. and windy
sky plentv-and in Southern California
days OF rest. bringing the plaasantness Of
silence and tranquility. of singing birds
and growing things
The Golden Vest
AS one writes the magic words what
memories come trooping upoa the mind
tremulous and nebulous pictures that rise
in an unknown and unsummoned fashion
and carry one leagues and leagues away
from hot editorial rooms and smell of
rrinter's ink.
The glancing blue waters of the great
lakes; the limestone columns along the
upper Mississippi; the high plateaus OF
Canada; the steep snow-capped Rockies.
Plauous green and SCARED; the solitary
glaucous green and SCARED; the solitary
supreme above all its neighbors; the hot
baths and wild scenery of Banff; the Gold
en- Gate of the great west, half hidden in
a haze: the big trees and rich vegetation
of Washington; the rudy soil and grazing
lands of Oregon; the wheat fields and
Grange groves Of California: the mines OF
Montana; the wild Indian upon the vast
plains; the ruined forts and neglected
missions planted along the first rude path
of civilization--these and many other
lantern slides pass slowly before the
minds eye as one writes.
Sometimes even the ear deceives. 1t y
as if you can hear the everlasting whrr
of the car wheels-and there is laughter
and song, and the smiles of women. While
out there in the sun the mirage appears
on never ending plain, inha bited only by
prairie dogs and wolves, with now and
then grazing herd. No, it is not the car
wheels at all, nor even the plain, but the
Tapping of the waves with the moonlight
silvering all the horizon at Coronado
beach, or rather you are on the hotel
veranda at Catalina Island, with some
one. delicate fingered. touching the tight
ened strings to the low cadenccs Of a love
song. Now it is sun shiny beautiful, lazy
Santa. Bariara-and all the lcng line CT
shore murmuring like a seashell. The
scene changes to weird. gorgeous Banff.
The roar of the waterfall fills your ears,
is near midnight and yet not dark-so far
north is it--but
Over all the mountains
Is peace:
Along the far SUBMITS
Nearest thou
Hardly breath.
In the midst of such awful grandeur one
is overwhelmed. How insignificant is
man--and how lonely, Instinctively words
of prayer and alteration spring to his lips.
But there is no answer--ohly the cold
mountains looking down through the gath
ering darkness from the wide and sad
and silent spaces of the stars
The West is truly great. 1t is indeed the
Golden West Its possibilities no man
can measure; its future no prophet can