HE
WEST
rr
ORE
Uth Year.
JANUARY, 1888.
No. 1.
7-
3
AUL RENFREW, the artist, had gone
into the heart of the
the Sierras to make
sketches for the fall
exhibition.
He hoped to put
his soul, figurative
ly SDeakincr. on can-
fjvas, and win both fame
and fortune at one stroke.
fxsiSi It was mid-summer far
'SJjj''' f down in the valleys, tut
1 itude of these hoary mountains was
yet a touch of winter just enough,
however, to make the air delightful,
ly exhilarating, and the nights full
if.; of delicious repose.
He was poor, " damnably poor,
he often muttered, when rent day
came and left him but a scanty al
lowance with which to eke out the
succeeding month.
The world had been slow to recognize in
him the birthmark of genius. Older heads,
if not more divinely gifted, who wielded
the brush with a steadier hand, had hitherto
overshadowed him. But he was gradually
coming into favor with a discerning public,
and he looked forward with reasonable ex
pectations to a bright and prosperous future.
He pitched his camp in a little cove close beside
a mountain rivulet, in whoso crystal depths multi
tudes of silvery trout shot to and fro like a weaver's
shuttle, He looked about upon the grand panorama
with an almost overwhelming sense of bis own little
ness. Gradually this was succeeded by a feeling of
exultation a quicker leaping of arterial blood a
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dumb, intense longing to ponotrato even tho " holy of
holies" of naturo's temples, and with a daring, though
reverential, hand, to make her secrets his very own,
attain heights hitherto undreamed of. In tho pres
ence of these immutable monuments of tho handi
work of the Almighty, all his soul's best and purest
aspirations leaped to tho surface; the selfish and baao
crept under cover. Tho sky looked so bluo-heaven
seemed so near, and tho sordid, grasping world bo far
away.
That first night ho slept tho sleep of tho junt. Ho
woko with tho dawn, new lifo tingling in his veins
and oozing at his finger tips.
After a hasty breakfast ho started out on a voyago
of discovery. Ho had no fear, either of molestation
or of losing his way. Ho was accustomed to follow
ing mountain trails, and roaming for weeks at a timo
in solitary, isolated places.
Ho had grown to lovo this wild, Bohemian sort of
life, and he was never bo much at homo as when, with
knapsack and camping outfit, ho was off for his an
nual summer jaunt
After a time, however, ho becaino awaro that ho
had lost his bearings. Ho had been so loat in won
der and admiration, so filled with tho keenest enjoy
ment, that ho had utterly forgotten to note any land
marks. Ho must have traveled a long distance, for
ho was a fast walker and it was already high noon.
Tho thought suggested itself, that, perhaps, after
all, ho might have been traveling in a circle, and was
nearer camp than ho suspected, if ho only knew tho
precise location of that much-desired haven. Ho had
heard of such instances before. It would never do to
sit down and quietly fold his hand. Tho afternoon
would soon pass, and night drops swiftly and early in
mountain fastnesses. Besides, there was another ur
gent causo for action. A raan'i firt seiwo of discom
fort proclaims itself in tho pit of his stomach. Paul