A Dweller on two Planets, Interlude 5
A DWELLER ON TWO PLANETS
OR
THE DIVIDING OF THE
WAY
BY PHYLOS THE THIBETAN
SEVEN SHASTA SCENES
By Frederick S. Oliver, Amanuensis
INTERLUDE V
Traveling, southward, miner no more, the youth bends his course. A year agone
the golden phantoms died, the mine caved in, and "no man knows that sepulcher" in
the wilds of Siskiyou. Winter wet had extinguished the flames and laid the smoky
sea. But the succeeding summer saw all aglow again, matched by the lightnings of
heaven. Our traveler is at the very base of Ieka Butte, and he and his steed crawl
along the slopes and vales in the bed of the fireborn ocean of smoke as do crustacea
on the bottoms of aqueous seas. A flaw of wind decreases the denseness of the clouds,
and above his head he sees an indistinct shape, lit feebly by the smoke-smothered
moon, at its full now, as on that other night, a year ago. Beautiful through the
murky air it is not; but when told that the point dimly seen overhead is the smoke-free,
gleaming crest of Shasta, fifteen miles away as the crow flies, e'en though we gaze at it from its own base, we feel an indescribable sense of awe. And we
liken the mount, with the flaming forests glowing at its feet and its own muffled
form rising in obscured grandeur, to a silent sentinel by his watchfire, wrapped
around with his cloak, and meditating on the trust he has kept, lo! these many ages,
still keeps, and forever!
