8 WHERE ROLLS THE OREGON 



shore. Instead of miles, it was zones, ages, worlds 

 that were traveled as I passed into this haunt of 

 wild sea-bird and beast. And I found myself say- 

 ing over to myself, " Thou madest him to have 

 dominion over the works of thy hands ; thou hast 

 put all things under his feet " — as if the words 

 had never before been uttered in human ears, and 

 could not yet be understood. 



For here was no man-dominion; here the 

 trampling feet of man had never passed. Here 

 was the primeval world, the fresh and unaffrighted 

 morning of the Fifth Day. Then, as the brute 

 in me shook itself and growled back at the brute 

 about me, something touched my arm, and I turned 

 to find the Federal Warden of the Rocks at my 

 side, — God, as it were, seeing again everything 

 that He had made, everything that man had un- 

 made, and saying again with a new and a larger 

 meaning, Have dominion over the fowl of the 

 air, and over the fish of the sea, and over what- 

 soever passeth through the paths of the seas. 



And here at my side, by act of Congress, stood 

 that Dominion, the Federal Warden, the collect- 

 ive, spiritual man, badged and armed to protect 

 forever against the individual brute man the 



