The San Francisco call., 1904-06-12
CHAPTER VI.
A NIGHT IN A FOREST.

shrank from looking down upon the
misery below. 1 arose, but 1 was so
stiff and numb that 1 could hardly
stretch limb. 1 began to walk, pain
fully at first, without the least knowl-
edge where my feet were taking me.
The darkness about me added gloom
to my despair. 1 now felt more than
ever that l was an orphan-a lonely
child in the great egOtlstic world.
Now and then, however. a star twin
killed. hope to me, and not infrequently
a shrill cricket, Ieaping in the wet
grass, seemed to offer me courage.
Presently found myself in the skirts
of a forest; it was dense and deep-a
genuine Russian forest. / recalled a
little open space a few hundred yards
within this forest, which had been my
favorite resort on pleasant Sabbath
afternoons. 1 had always loved the
mighty solitude of the forest; there
seemed to be a certain kinship to my
weary melancholy. But now L re-
manned standing with trembling fear.
The moaning of the fire victims still
rang in my ears; all the horrible stories
of beasts and robbers l had heard in
my childhood haunted my brain. The
least noise made my flesh creep. l ad-
vanced a step and stopped again. A
wind swayed the boughs of saplinS
and emitted something like a sigh, as
if it were plying the poor orphan
standing near 1t. Then silence again.
The large forest slept; all nature
rested 1 held my breath. / put my
feet down softly and took the path
that led to my favOrite retreat. The
clear moon, peeping through the thick
foliage, escorted me step by step. On
my way l annoyed a number of birds
In their nests in bushes; their futter
of wings and twitter were perhaps
complaints against me. but I also COM
planned and nobody needed my grum-
bling.
At last l reached my favorite spot,
and being utterly fatigued / stretched
myself upon the long soft grass and
forgot all my troubles in dreamland.
1 found myself on the peak Of
high mountain, very high, almost
reaching the clouds. with staff, bud
ding leaves and blossoming, In one
hand, and in the other L had musty-
looking little book, like the one my
mother had left me. Enchanting mel
Odies reached my ears 1 glanced
down. At the foot of the height 1
stood upon there ran a broad stream,
in which people rode about in small
barges; and across the flowing water
stood a magnificent structure, the
lower part OF which resembled our
synagogue and the upper looked like
an ancient Grecian temple. A num-
ber of people stood in the doorway Of
this singular edifice and motioned to
me to drop my burdens-the staff and
the little book-for they became heavy,
yet they were dear to me, so / hesi-
tated. The multitude below renewed
their invitation, and the longer 1 hesi-
tated the more demonstrative became
the crowd. They began to threaten
me that unless / drop my staff and
book and come down willingly they
would pull me down. But their
threats gave me courage and lent
warmth to my blood. Then the vocif-
erous throng began climbing the slope
Of the mountain, yet / did not bulge;
l feared them not. They soon reached
me and showered crushing blows upon
me- but | did not care; / did not even
attempt to return a blow. The staff
and the book now became precious to
me, and / pressed them to my breast
with all my might. Hard as they
pulled at the leaves of the book, they
could not tear a leaf. The only In
jury it sustained was a little dirt from
my perspiring hands in clasping it
tightly. Then a hundred hands seized
me and began pulling me down. but I
suddenly felt my strength becoming
herculean and 1 forced them all back.
remaining in my lofty position and
laughing them all to scorn.
In another instant the sun appeared
respIendently. My bleeding wounds,
which the mob had inflicted upon me.
began TO heal, and the blood in my
veins now coursed warmer and swifter.
Iswas feeling young again. erected
my stopped shoulders, Strengthened my
bowed head, washed my despatched
face. Suddenly the crowd below reap
peared; again the flowing stream at
the foot of the mountains; again the
curious structure; but now the crowd
below sent friendly greetings TO me.
Without hesitation 1 flung the stan
and the book aside and began to de-
scend the precipitous Slope, when 1
lost my balance and rolled down, down,
down, until woke.
1 sat down in the soft, moist grass
and sleepiIy glanced about me. The
day was just breaking. A gauZelike
blush mist hung over the forest. and
the moisture OF the night dripped, tip.
tip, tip. from bough to bough, from leaf
to leaf Here and there pearl-like
beads of dew, hanging on grass-blades,
twinkled like diamond studs in green
fleece. From the heart Of the woods
there echoed early morning sounds
the horn of a distant shepherd; the
faint lowing of COW. the bleating Of
a sheep, the lash of a whip like. ring
ing pistol-shot. Silence for a moment.
1 languidly rested on my elbow. A
rustic above my head drew my eyes
thither; a canary-finch skipped around
restlessly, gently swinging the bOughs
of a tree. Then she began to sing.
First her crisp sweet notes came in
short MARBLES, but soon, as il heated by