In
the evening I sat upon a great log in front of the cabin or a
friendly stump, and forgot such things as hammocks and porch-swings.
Instead of gazing at street-lamps only a few yards away I was gazing
at stars millions of miles away, and, somehow, the soul seemed to
gain freedom.
And I had luxury, too. I had a room with bath. The bath was at the
stream some fifty yards away, but such discrepancies are minor
affairs in the midst of such big elemental things as were all about
me. My mattress was of young cherry shoots, and never did king have
a more royal bed, or ever such refreshing sleep. And, while I slept,
I grew inside, for the soft music of the pines lulled me to rest, and
the subdued rippling of my bath-stream seemed to wash my soul clean.
When I arose I had no bad taste in my mouth or in my soul, and each
morning had for me the glory of a resurrection. My trees were there
to bid me good morning, the big spaces spoke to me in their own
inspiriting language, and the big sun, playing hide-and-seek among
the great boles of the trees as he mounted from the horizon, gave me
a panorama unrivalled among the scenes of earth.
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