Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1921-03-09
CHAPTER XIV
The Great Adventure

lhe UTtdt adventure
A gift pipe in his teeth, q little vol
ume in his pocket, Ashe struck out
through the early morning toward the
hills which lay along the eastern rim
OF the valley. The newly risen sun was
glorious thing, light hearted like him
SELF The grass was dew wet, and so
at first he kept to. the winding footpath
along the winding creek There was
smoke climbing up from the chimney Of
old man Beeson's cottage and Ashe knew
that young Beeson was by now getting
his own breakfast. The grass was tail
and thick bordering the path the grain
fields promised heavy yield when the
summer sun should come; everywhere
red and yellow and pale blue wild
tiowers pecpcd through young wheat and
barley and wild clover and oats. The
little orchard beyond ora man Beeson's
was decked out in dainty, delicate bios
SONS. In the creek willows were no
end of bluebirds; Robin Redbreast was
as gallant fellow as of yorc in his
bright waistcoat, seeming really quite
eager to lose his heart when occasion
arose; larks. yellow breasted music
makers, were everywhere.
In one pocket a sandwich. in another
pocket book, in his pipe fine, fragrant
tobacco, in his heart the Joy of life |
verify no man better equipped
this morning for q journey through the
fields and the wooded hills beyond than
this young freebooter.
He followed the creek even after the
sun began to drink up the dew from the
grass. 1t suited his mood to wander this
way, not to follow straight lanes with
right angled turns. He passed within
quarter of mile of Lockworth, but kept
on with no temptation coming to him
to turn into the village for the May Day
festival and frolic. He strode on, skirt
ing blossoming orchards and bright
Hover gardens set about homely cot
tages, lettering now and then to watch
COW and calf or flock Of pigeons or
noisy, gobbling lot of turkeys or
train of waddlng ducks going down to
the ponds. Looking in at the open door
of one prim, whitewashed shanty he saw
woman feverishly decking out her sew
eral children in their holiday best of
white starched collars and unaccustomed
coats. Now and then. from some gentle
rise, he made out teams drawing down
into the heart of the valley from the
encircIing hills. 1t was still early when
he had come to the timber line toward
which he had set his face, but already,
looking back, he could see many vehicles
and saddlcd horses tied upon the edge
of the Clump of oaks under which the
countryside were meeting to picnic and
dance and flirt and argue and watch the
big chunks Of beef revolve and sizzle
and brown over the blazing Goals of the
trenches.
II have had enough of people" was
Ashes hardly formulated thought.
Never enough of the woods"
Another dream had come true! High
up in the foothill, among the oaks and
pines; he had in delicious truth found
two big, mossy boulders with clear,
cold stream of water gurgling out from
between them! Valleywards the trees
shut out Lockworth and gave him the
grateful sense Of being alone, gathered
close to the heart of the woodlands. On
either bank of the thin stream stood
alders and willows, with wild black
berry vines twining among them.
He stood looking down at the
clear make believe fury of the hill
side, brook, n smile in his eyes, in
his heart a feeling of comradeship for
its struggles as in petty foaming fury
it soug ut to break over it's rock edged
channel. He wanted to prolong this
moment. He got down upon his knees,
scooped up water in his hands and,
having no thirst, drank for the sheer
pleasure of the drinking. He threw
himself down upon his stomach, put
his lips to the COOL racing surface,
and drank, pleased with the Coolness of
the spray in his eyes, upon his face.
And then, squatting there, he watched
the way of the branches of a willow
whipping at the water, perking free
of the flashing current, drawn under
the next second, like man dallyng
with a mood, never quite mastered,
never quite its master.
The sense of solitude was deep upon
him. He realized that If any one he
knew in San Francisco, any one he
knew here in the country, were with
him his day would be marred. For
the first time he was tempted to defy
lladdOn, to break away, to penetrate
deeper and deeper into the thicker for
rstS further back upon Llo mountains,
to drink his fill, having tasted spar
ingly, of solitude. That way he could
go, yonder where the hills rose more
ruggedly, where the trees stood closer
together, where the little grassy path
invited. Further and further until
night came, a night under the stars.
Thus might one come to forget that
he was fugitive, remembering only
that he vas living in the way it was
natural to live before nature was shared
out of her leafy haunts.
1t was sheer folly. He knew that. |
But he found his joy Of the hour in
choosing to close his ears to reason s
voice. He pushed on, letting his fancics
lead him. his head up, his lungs filled,
his blood running riotously. And all
the time he knew that he was not unlike
the willow back there, that he was but
playing with his mood. that in a few
short hours he must turn and hasten
back to the Big House, answering Had
DON S tug at his chain like a good dog
He frOwnGd. Why should HaddOn
throw shadow over him on day
like this? Haddon. and San Quentin
Damn them! They were made
for each other. A strange little shiver
shook him. San Quentin! A place
where they shut men up In dark cells
There were woods like this and
they were empty! There were prisons
and they were filled. Never had a
prison seemed to him so damnable. He
saw how the sunlight pierced through
the thick foliage Of live oak, how Il
rabbit bounced and lodged under bush.
Rabbits had less brains than men, yes,
and far less folly -
Soon he forgot such sober hucd
things. He went painting up ridge,
thickly timbered, and paused resting at
the top. His coat was off, carried
over his arm. The day was glorious.
But the view he had expected from
here was, shut out by other hills, by
much timber.