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Connor, Ralph, Pseudonym, 1860-1937

"Black Rock: a Tale of the Selkirks"


The men were for making a night of it; but fearing the effect upon
Graeme, I spoke to Nelson, who passed the word, and in a short time the
camp was quiet. As we sauntered from the grub-camp to the office where
was our bed, we paused to take in the beauty of the night. The moon rode
high over the peaks of the mountains, flooding the narrow valley with
mellow light. Under her magic the rugged peaks softened their harsh
lines and seemed to lean lovingly toward us. The dark pine masses stood
silent as in breathless adoration; the dazzling snow lay like a garment
over all the open spaces in soft, waving folds, and crowned every stump
with a quaintly shaped nightcap. Above the camps the smoke curled up
from the camp-fires, standing like pillars of cloud that kept watch
while men slept. And high over all the deep blue night sky, with its
star jewels, sprang like the roof of a great cathedral from range to
range, covering us in its kindly shelter. How homelike and safe seemed
the valley with its mountain-sides, its sentinel trees and arching roof
of jewelled sky! Even the night seemed kindly, and friendly the stars;
and the lone cry of the wolf from the deep forest seemed like the voice
of a comrade.


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