OUT OF DOORS WITH NATURE. 
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caravan— -tlie solitary vulture coming out of the cloudless 
distance — tlie green oasis — tlie dread simoon — we see tliem 
all! 
An eagle wheeling through the mists above Niagara ! 
The loosened thunder of that great river's fall coming 
through the silence of a new creation to chord the bass of 
northern storms through mighty lakes and groaning moun- 
tain pines — Freedom cleaving through the mists of struggle 
with the sun upon its golden wing — the Home of a great 
people ! 
It is thus that the true mystery of art lies in suggestion ! 
But 3' our modern painter is not content with this ; he must 
fill up — he must be, to us, a " better nature," and leave us no 
scope for memory or imagination. He is poorly jealous of 
the power of the wand he has presumed to wield, and must 
compel us to be its slaves. But, in spite of the terrors of his 
denunciation, we shall introduce you to yet another of those 
wondrous, but simple pictures. 
In traversing, during the winter months, the vast prairies 
of Texas and the Southwest, you frequently realize all the 
solitary grandeur of Zahara. The eye aches through the 
weary stretching distance — not an object ! One little cloud 
holds with the sun the blue heavens above — beneath and 
around you, the grass ! — the brown waving grass ! — away ! — 
away! — with its dreamy undulating surface — it widens, 
widening till blended in a hazy meeting with the sky, the in- 
finite seems just begun, and boundless space yet stretched 
before you. 
You begin to feel strangely and hear your heart beat very 
loud. It seems awful to be the only thing alive to breathe 
within this vast expanse — the world seems dead — a parched 
blank with only one warm vital centre in your own breast. 
You gasp for companionship — anything 1 — anything that 
moves and has a being, for it is crushing thus to stand alone 
before the God of this dumb moveless nature ! When sud- 
denly, a hoarse cry, ^^Kewrrooh! Kewrrooli ! Kewrroohr 
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