The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1912-06-13


silence, habituated to 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
ueless to him as the doubloons and
golden guineas were to Selkirk on MS
! island. Yet the knowledge that 1t was
there gave him an energizing sense OF
potential power, unconsciously enorm-
ously fattering to his self-esteem.
Sometimes he wandered to the ex-
IRENE 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
a master among mountains, If he
| he lqnOha0
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he had withdrawn himself from the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 1t. From
a perverted sense of expiation, In
madness of grief, horror and despair.
he had made himself a prisoner to his
ideas in the desert of the mountains.
Back TO his cabin ne w5Gld hasten,
and there surrounded by his living
memories-deathless yet of the dead!
he would recreate the past until de-
lection drove him abroad on the nils
to meet God if not manor woman.
Night-day sunshine-shadow, heat-cold,
storm-calm; these were his life.
/ Having disburdened his faithful ami
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 coz
duced to the nearness Of God. 1t was
a delusion as old nearly as the Chris
tan 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
years. The world for him had stopped
its progress in one brief moment five
years back-the rest was silence.
What had happened since then out
yonder where people were mated he
did not know and he did not greatly
care.
In his visits to the settlements he
asked no questions, he 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, it's wearing strains,
its rare triumphs, its opportunities
for achievement, for service; hope
with its Examinations, its encourage
lments. its expectations, ambition
with it's stimulus, its force its power;
and greatest of all, love, itself alone
all three were latent in him. In touch
with a woman these had gone. Some
thing AS powerful and as human must
bring them back.
It was against nature that 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 O. man
and master among men, rather than
the hermit and the recluse of the soli-
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 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.
i He had been walking for some
hours, and as he grew thirsty 1t oc-
Cured to him to descend to the level
of the brook which he heard below him
and of which he sometimes caught
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 human voice,
the last thing on earth tc be expected
In that wilderness, smote upon the
fearful hollow of his ear
Any voice or any word then and
there would have surprised him. but
there was note of awful terror In
this voice, a sound of frightened ap-