Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1912-04-30

Once man who loved the strife.
noble or ignoSle, Of the madding
crowd. he had grown accustomed to
silence. ha5ituated 10 solitude. Winter
/ and summer alike he roamed the
mountains, delving into every forest.
exploring every hidden canyon, sur
mounting every inaccessible peak; no
storm, no snow, no condition OF wind
or weather daunted him or stopped
him. He had no human companion
ship by which to try his mettle, but
nevertheless over the world of the
material which lay about him he was
master as he was man.
! He found some occupation, too, In
the following of old Adams inherit
ance; during the pleasant months OF
summer he made such garden as he
could. His profession of mining en-
| gineer gave him other employment.
! Round about him lay treasures ines
| Unable, precious metals abounded IN
| the hills. He had located them, tested,
analysed, estimated the wealth that
was his for the taking-it was as val
ueIess to him as the doubloons and
golden guineas were to Selkirk on his
island. Yet the knowledge that it was
there gave him an energizing sense OF
potential power, unconsciously enorm-
ously fattering to his self-esteem-
Sometimes he wandered to the ex-
| treme verge of the range and on clear
days saw far beneath him the smoke
of great cities of the plains He
could be master among men as he was
master among mountains, II he
| chose On such occasions he laughed
cynically. scornfully, yet rarely did
| he ever give way to such emotions.
| A great and terrible sorrow was
| upon him; cherishing great passion
he had withdrawn himself from the
| common lot to dwell upon It, From
perverted sense of expiration, in
madness of grief. horror and despair,
he had made himself prisoner to his
| ideas in the desert Of the mountains.
! Back to his cabin he would hasten,
and there surrounded by his living
| memories-deathles yet of the dead!
he would recreate the past until de-
| lection drove him abroad on the hills
| to meet God If not manor woman
Night-day, sunshine-shadow, heat-cold.
| storm calm; these were his life.
| Having disburdened his faithful anil
mails of their packs and having seen
| them safely bestowed FOR the winter
in The corral he had built near the
base of the cliff upon which his rude
home was situated, he took his rifle
one morning for one of those lonely
walks across the mountains from
which he drew such comfort because
! he ancied the absence Of man con-
duced to the nearness of God. 1t was
/ a deiusion as old nearly as the Chris
! tian religion. Many had made them
! selves hermits in the past in remorse
! for sin and for love toward God; this
! man had buried himself in the wilder
| ness in part for the first Of these
| causes, in other part for the love of
woman. In the days of swift and sud-
den change he had been constant to a
remembrance, and abiding in his de-
termination for five swift moving
wears. The world for him had stopped
its progress in one brief moment five
wears back-the rest was silence.
What had happened since then out
wonder where people were mated he
did not know and he did not greatly
care.
In his visits to the settlements he
asked no questions, ne bought no pa
pers. he manifested no interest in
the world some things in him had
! died in one fell moment, and there
had been, as yet. no resurrection. Yet
life. hope, and ambition do not die.
they are indeed eternal Resurgam!
Life with its tremendous activities,
its awful anxieties, its wearing strains,
its rare triumphs, its opportunities
for achievement, for service; hope
with its Examinations, its encourage
ments its expectations, ambition
with its stimulus. its force, its power;
and greatest of all, love. itself alone
all three were latent in him. In touch
with woman these had gone. Some
thing as powerful and as human must
bring them back.
1t was against nature that a man
lowered as he should so live to him
self alone Some voice should cry in
his soul In it's cerements of futile re-
morse. vain expiations and benumbing
recollection; some day he should
burst these grave clothes self-wound
about him and be once more a man
and a master among men, rather than
the hermit and the recluse of the soil
tudes
He did not allow these thoughts to
come into his life; indeed, 1t is quite
likely that he scarcely realized them
at all yet; such possibilities did not
present themselves to him, Perhaps
the man was a little mad that morn
ing, maybe he trembled on the verge
OF break-upward, downward,
know not so it be away-unconscious-
ly as he strobe along the range that
morning.
He had been walking for some
hours, and as he grew thirsty it oc-
Cured TO him to descend TO the Level
OF the brook which ne heard below hin
and of which he sometimes caught
a flashing glimpse through the trees
He scrambled down the rocks and
found himself in a thick grove OF
pine Making his way slowly and with
great difficulty through the tangle OF
fallen timber which lay in every di
rection, the sound OF a human voice
the last thing on earth to be expected
: | in that wilderness, smote upon the
i fearful hollow OF his ear.
Any voice or any word then and
there would have surprised him, bu
there was note OF awful terror IL
. this voice, sound OF frightened ap
old clothes. apz spending from tive
shillings to ha4s a crown on my dinner
because l felt, and instinctively, tina