A MIDNIGHT VISITOR. 



L. D. HOBACK. 



Many years ago Bill and I, 2 tenderfeet, 

 contracted to cut building timber in Sono- 

 ma county, among the giant redwoods. 

 We expected to spend the winter in the 

 woods, so were delighted to find an old, 

 dilapidated cabin, situated on a clear 

 mountain stream, with big redwoods all 

 around. In the cabin we found an old 

 cook stove and some dry straw, both of 

 which added greatly to our comfort. 



It seemed particularly homelike the first 

 night we occupied it, as we were soaked to 

 the skin, a fine rain having fallen all day. 

 We soon had a roaring fire and a hot sup- 

 per, which we devoured with relish. Then 

 we dried our clothes and made our beds on 

 the straw. We had a borrowed crosscut 

 saw, at that time a rare and valuable im- 

 plement, which we took pains to dry and 

 place beside our beds. 



We slept soundly until about midnight, 

 when I was suddenly awakened by a 

 strange rasping sound like cloth drawn 

 across a saw. I, at first, thought it was 

 Bill moving in his sleep, but he was so still 

 I knew he was listening too. In a whis- 

 per he asked, "What is that?" Then, to 

 our astonishment and horror, 2 blazing 

 eyes flashed before our frightened faces. 

 We both cried in a breath "Panther !" and 

 pulled the blankets over our heads, expect- 

 ing instant death. 



Our yells and sudden movements fright- 

 ened the beast as badly as he had us. He 

 sprang for an opening in the cabin about 

 6 feet from the floor, missea his hold 

 and fell back, clawing and spitting. It 

 seemed as if he would never regain his 



feet. Fortunately for us, however, the 

 next jump was successful and he made his 

 escape. 



We were not long in striking a light. 

 The sound that had startled us, we learned 

 was caused by the panther's claws raking 

 the potatoes out of the skillet. 



About a month later we had another ad- 

 venture with our visitor. We were com- 

 ing from Petaluma, where we had gone for 

 supplies. It was 10 o'clock and we were 

 about 3 miles from the cabin when out of 

 the stillness of the night came an awful 

 cry. I was riding a mule, and Bill, mount- 

 ed on a fine mare, was some distance ahead. 

 I tried with poor success to enthuse my 

 mule with my feelings. I belabored him 

 right and left to little purpose. The pan- 

 ther was screeching in our rear and 

 seemed right at my heels. 



Bill was yelling, "Come on, Sam, come 

 on!" and I, "Hold on, Bill! Wait for me!" 

 But Bill had urgent business waiting at 

 home. I would willingly have given my 

 kingdom for a horse or even for a mare 

 such as Bill rode. 



The panther followed us until close to 

 the cabin. Then, no doubt, remembering 

 the awful sights and sounds he had heard 

 there, and thinking discretion the better 

 part of valor, he dropped into innocuous 

 desuetude. 



He probably would not have attacked us, 

 even if we had stopped and waited for him, 

 but no doubt followed us hoping to find in 

 our trail some more fried potatoes. Any- 

 way, we were mighty glad when he quit. 



NATURE'S PRAYER. 



II. N. DE LA NOV. 



Wnen silence broods at eventide o'er 

 meadow, stream and hill, 



Then Nature raises to her God her an- 

 thems sweet, which fill 



The earth with silent melody the soul 

 alone may hear, 



And flood the heart with rapture mild, as 

 music charms the ear. 



Aye, music, music sweeter far ithan sounds 



of earth and sky, 

 So sweet that they but soulless are who 



feel no Presence nigh ; 

 Whose eyes look on the sunset's glow, 



and watch the falling night, 

 Yet do not see or care to know the dawn 



of Heaven's light. 



But listen, and the anthems move the 



soul to silent prayer, 

 Though lips expression lack to speak the 



thoughts imprisoned there; 

 And words immortal rise within, and 



struggle to be free. 

 For he who lists to Nature's prayer shall 



know his destiny. 

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