THE OLD MEN This is our lot if we live so long and listen to those who love us— That we are shunned by the people about and shamed by the Powers above us. Wherefore be free of your harness betimes; but being free be assured, That he who hath not endured to the death, from his birth he hath never endured! THE EXPLORER "THERE'S no sense in going further-it's the edge of cultivation," So they said, and I believed it-broke my land and sowed my crop Built my barns and strung my fences in the little border station Tucked away below the foothills where the trails run out and stop. Till a voice, as bad as Conscience, rang interminable changes On one everlasting Whisper day and night repeated -so: Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the Ranges "Something lost behind the Ranges. Lost and waiting for you. Go!" THE EXPLORER So I went, worn out of patience; 'never told my nearest neighbours Stole away with pack and ponies-left 'em drinking in the town; And the faith that moveth mountains didn't seem to help my labours As I faced the sheer main-ranges, whipping up and leading down. March by march I puzzled through 'em, turning flanks and dodging shoulders, Hurried on in hope of water, headed back for lack of grass; Till I camped above the tree-line-drifted snow and naked boulders Felt free air astir to windward-knew I'd stumbled on the Pass. 'Thought to name it for the finder: but that night the Norther found me Froze and killed the plains-bred ponies: so I called the camp Despair (It's the Railway Gap to-day, though). Then my Whisper waked to hound me: Something lost behind the Ranges. Over yonder. Go you there!" THE EXPLORER Then I knew, the while I doubted-knew His Hand was certain o'er me. Still-it might be self-delusion-scores of better men had died I could reach the township living, but knows what terrors tore me ... But I didn't . . . but I didn't. I went down the other side. Till the snow ran out in flowers, and the flowers turned to aloes, And the aloes sprung to thickets and a brimming stream ran by; But the thickets dwined to thorn-scrub, and the water drained to shallows And I dropped again on desert, blasted earth, and blasting sky. . . . I remember lighting fires; I remember sitting by them; I remember seeing faces, hearing voices through the smoke; I remember they were fancy-for I threw a stone to try 'em. Something lost behind the Ranges," was the only word they spoke. THE EXPLORER I remember going crazy. I remember that I knew it When I heard myself hallooing to the funny folk I saw. Very full of dreams that desert: but my two legs And I used to watch 'em moving with the toes all black and raw. But at last the country altered-White man's country past disputing Rolling grass and open timber, with a hint of hills behind There I found me food and water, and I lay a week recruiting, Got my strength and lost my nightmares. Then I entered on my find. Thence I ran my first rough survey-chose my trees and blazed and ringed 'em Week by week I pried and sampled-week by week my findings grew. Saul he went to look for donkeys, and by God he found a kingdom! But by God, who sent His Whisper, I had struck the worth of two! |