A PIONEER'S CABIN SITE. 43 



and song of glee should be copied by that pes- 

 simist the wood pewee and his larger cousin the 

 king bird. 



Some thirty yards back of the tent there is 

 a little rise in the surface and some of the flat 

 foundation stones which mark the former site 

 of a squatter's cabin. There doubtless once was 

 life and death, was love and ambition, was mar- 

 riage and birth, was joy and despair, was hope 

 and sorrow. They came and went in the lives 

 of those pioneers as they come and go wherever 

 life is or is to be. Could we have happiness or 

 contentment ever, we would know not their 

 savor. The despair of hope long deferred must 

 come between or at intervals. We must real- 

 ize the pangs of defeat to appreciate at its true 

 value the joy of victory. 



On the ridge, just to the east of where the 

 cabin stood, there are said to be the unmarked 

 graves of two or three of the pioneers. Whether 

 they died natural deaths or were killed by the 

 Indians no one knows. I have neither seen nor 

 heard their spooks if they have walked since 

 here I have dwelt. Many a pioneer, many an 

 Indian, many a progenitor of the Indians, are 

 doubtless buried beneath the earth's mold of 

 the ridges hereabouts. 



"And we that now make merry in the room 

 They left, and summer dresses in new bloom, 



Ourselves must we beneath the couch of earth 

 Descend ourselves to make a couch for whom? 



