The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1920-03-06
THE SENTINEL PINE

Rock Creek comes down from the
Bear Tooth Range, winding turbu
lent way through the foothills to the
bench lands below. Copeland haC
chosen it's waters to guide him while
prospecting in the treacherous wild
erness of the mountains.
Copeland's quest had been fruitless,
but the prospecting fever was strong
upon him. Some time he would fine
gold, he told himself, as other mer
had done. Mentally he rehearsed th<
story of January Jones, whose fame
had filled the papers for months afte
his lucky find. There was, too, the
case of Jack Stinson-kicked over
cliff by his mule, he had fallen upor
a ledge that proved to be goldbearins
quartz. Two years prospecting hao
gradually filled Copeland's mind with
details of such stories, until the dis
covery of gold had become an Obses-
sion.
The prospector had followed Rock
Creek until the lights began to fade
from the hills, then from Point OF
Rocks he had surveyed his world be
fore camping for the night. He was
in the lower hills. On one side theil
crests rose higher and higher, and the
scent pine growth became denser ano
darker as it merged into the wilder
ness of the mOuntain-side. Far VI
among the trees a waterfall could Et
dimly seen and its murmur heard. Th'
water ran down in little cascades un
til quite suddenly it disappeared b.
hind a jutting rock. A lingering ray @
light frightened the tops of the som
bre pines, the shadowy depths of re
| vines and canyons glowed family vic
| let, then before the watchers eyes
| the tender hues deepened to wells O.
blackness Twilight had settled over
the mountains.
! Something of the loneliness of thu
scene crept into the prospector'S
heart bringing the mood that some
| times came upon him-a diStaste for
his wandering life and longing TO-
| home He turned his eyes from the
| heights to the hills about him, hills
covered with gray-green grass an(
| moss brown boulders. On the top O
one hill queer little pine tree caught
| his attention. 1t stood alone, its sill
houette dark against the sky. The low
est branch was twisted sharply about
and bent so that it seemed to be
| pointing to something unseen on the
other side Of the HILL AS Copeland
looked, the little tree seemed to be
nodding to him as it pointed back
| ward and downward. He tried tC
throw off the feeling with a laugh al
his foolishness. The silence and the
loneliness were getting on his nerves
he decided Then he built fire in the
shelter of a boulder, whistling cheer
lily while he cooked his supper. Blu
while the twilight deepened to dark
ness he sat looking into the CLOWN:
Goals, musing over his life.
II More than two years ago he hat
come West. He had small sum o
money and had thought to find a goot
; piece of land, where he could build ;
home For Muriel Manning was wait
r Ing IOT Hill UdCh III Tie sleepy, pcdCc
, full home town, sand Muriel was thel
: the center of all his plans. A coupl
of prospectors had gotten hold of hin
, and he had fallen into their venture
r which, he thought, promised rich re
) turns. The scheme had failed. Cope
!, land had been obliged to write home
, postponing his plans, until he shoul
achieve a measure of success. TIL
: letters that had come to him the
r were full of remonstrance over full
5 Their ventures, begging him to com
E back, to be satisfied with the oper
;. ings the home town offered TIL
t mans pride rebelled. He had detel
! mined to succeed in his own way
Vi Then the lure of the trail had faster
ed on him and the dream of findin
/: gold for its own sake had gradual
filled his mind, crowding out gent
e memories and ennobling ambition!
g For a while he had written desultor
f letters, but soon these too had ceaset