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CHAPTER XXVI.
ON THE ROCKT MOUNTAINS EOMEWARD
BOUND SAD REFLECTIONS RAPIU DE-
BCENT TWO ENCAMPMENTS MEET OLD
FRIENDS INCOG. THEIR FRIENDSHIP
TESTED MAKE MYSELF KNOWN FRANTIC
JOY VISIT THE SICK PAINFUL AND UN EXPECTED MEETING.
I stood upon the summit of the Rocky Mountains. 1 stood upon that point of land which divides the rivers of the Atlan tic from the Pacific oceans. Upon that mighty barrier, which bids its gushing riv ulets roll eastward and westward. Where, springing from the same source, as chil dren from the same parents, they are sep arated by the hand of fate, to end their course thousands of miles apart.
I stood upon the great dividing ridge of the North American Continent, and cast my eyes over a mighty expanse of territo ry. But with what feelings did I gaze sround me! Were they feelings of joy! NTo! they could not be joyous. There was one absent from my side, that made them sad. I needed the bright eye, noble face, commanding form, warm heart, and strong hand of one who was now perhaps no more. Had he been by my now melancholy gaze had been one of intoxicating, enthusiastic rapture. In every hill, in every tree, in every rock, in every rill, I would have be held something to make my heart leap with delight for now I was homeward bound.
What a strange creature is man ' It is said that he sees with his eyes but I con tend that his heart gives color to his vision. Jf not, why do the same scenes, unchang ed in their appearance, to him present different aspects? Why does that which to-day he beholds coleur de rose, to-mor row wear the sable hue of gloom? Is not the scene the same? Are not his eyes the same? Ay! but yesterday his heart was light and bounding with joy to-day it is dark and oppressed with grief All the change, then, lies in the heart.
Yes! here I stood alone my face set eastward my steps bent to the still far distant land of my youth. What had I not been through, what had 1 not suffered, wnoe quitting that roof under which I had
known nothing but happiness and ease? In little more than two years, I felt I had lived an age, and even fancied my hair growing gray at twenty-two.
Yes! I was wending my way to my na tive land; but should God permit me to reach there alive, what an unenviable lot was mine, to make the home of my friend the house of lamentation and woe! And Lilian, dear Lilian, to whom, would to God, I could bring nothing but joy I must be doomed, too, to make her weep, to till her bright eyes with tears, and robe her fair form in funeral weeds. Alasl alas! what bitter necessity! How my soul groaned in anguish at the thought, until I envied the supposed cold death- sleep of him I wept.
Such were some of my thoughts and feelings, as I commenced descending the eastern slope of the Rocky Mountains. I have said nothing of my route hither, since leaving Pueblo de los Angelos, and forth very reason there was little or nothing to say. My horse had borne me hither; my hand had guided him; my food had been such as came in my way; my sleep hail been mostly upon the hard earth in th open air; my route had occasionally be?a pointed out to me occasionally had beer taken at a venture : I had sometimes h.id companions sometimes had traveled bj myself; and, lastly, was here now, alonti, and that was the most I knew. Oppress- ed with a burden of grief almost insup portable, I had taken little note of external objects. With a sort of instinct, I had day after day, pursued my journey, pel fectly reckless of that life which to m seemed more an affliction than a comfort I had been surrounded by dangers at all times; I had been less cautious than pre vious in guarding against them; and yel here I was alive in fair bodily health preserved how, and for what purpose, God only knew.
It was near the close of August, and the day v/as clear and cold, the sun, some three hours advanced toward noon, streamed over the scene his bright light, but without much apparent warmth. The north wind, sweeping down from th icjr peaks of the Wind River Mountains looming up in rugged masses away to the left seemed to chill my very bl
