Licking Valley courier. [volume] (West Liberty, Ky.) 19??-current, 1912-02-15

material which lay about him he was
a master as he was man.
He found some ocoupatisa, tee, in
the following of old Adams inherit
ance; during the pleasant msnths Of
summer he made such garden ~ he
could. His profession Of mining en-
gineer gave him other employment.
Round about him lay treasures meg
Unable, precious metals aboundsd In
the hills. He had located them, tested,
analysed, estimated the wealth that
was his for the taking-it was ~ val
ueless to him a. the doubloons and
golden guineas were to Sslkirk on his
island. Yet the knowledge that 1t was
there gave him an enerElzing sense OF
potential power, unconsciously enorm-
ously fiattering to his self-esteem.
Sometimes he wandered to the en-
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, 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he had withdrawn himself from the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 1t. From
a perverted sense Of expiation, in a
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 II 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 tho
base of the cliff upon. which his rude
home was situated, he took his riiie
one morning for one Of those lonely
walks across the mountains from
which he drew such comfort because
he fancied the absence OF man con-
duced to the nearness Of God. 1t was
a delusion as old nearly az the Chris
tian religion. Many had made them
selves hermits in the past In remorss
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 .
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. Rcsurgam!
Life with its tremendous activities,
It's awful anIieties, Its wearing strains,
its rare triumphs, its opportunities
for achievement, for service; hope
with its illuminations, its encourage.
ments, rs eTpectatfonI, ambition
with its stimulus. It's force, it, 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 ~ human must
bring them back.
It was against nature that = man
lowered as he should 30 live to him.
self alone. Some voice should cry in
his soul in It's cerements OF futile re-
morse, vain expiations and benumbinE
recollection; some day he should
burst these grave clothes sslf-vound
about him and be once more = man
and 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, II IL quite
likely that he scarcely realised them
Nall yet; such possibilities did NOT
/ present themselves to him. Perhaps
the man was little MAD that morn
ing, maybe he trenblsd on the verge
Of break-upward, downward,
know not so It be away--unconscious
ly as he strobe along the range tina
morning.
He had been walking for sons
hours. and a. he grew thirsty II 90
Cured to him to descend to the lsvs
Of the brook which he heard below hin
and Of which he sometimes caugh
a flashing glimpse through the trees
He scrambled down the rocks anS
found himself in thick grove o
pine. Making his way slowly and will
great difficulty through the tansle o
fallen timber which lay in every dI
rection, the sound Of . human voice
the last thing on earth to b eIpccte'
in that wilderness, smote upon tn
fearful hollow of his ear.
Any voice or any word then an,
there would have surprised him, bu
there was note OF awful terror 4
this voice, a sound OF frightened Al
} peal The desperation in the cry LEI
} him no moment for thought, the d
! mNnd was for action. The cry va
/. not addressed to him, apparently, bu
to God, yet II was he who answersd-
3 sent doubtless by that ovsr-loohin
/, Power who works In such mysteriou
. ways His wonder to performl
He leaped over the interveniR
trees to the edge Of the forest wher
the rapid waters ran. To the riEl
! of him rose a huge rock, or clik,
] front of him the canon bent sharpl