The western Avernus; . f fat cattle and plentiful horses, I said to myself, I shall soon be in El Dorado, where, perhaps, there isa library with books to be read ; perhaps there may bemen who are civilised and educated, even so far thedelightful victims of our pleasures as to be acquaintedwith chess. Then, instead of playing draughts on atree stump, rudely marked out with a burnt stick, in theprimaeval forest, I may sit by a fire, with a cup ofcoffee near at hand and a pipe of good tobacco, andastonish my opponent with a crafty Muzio or a well-played Evans. Or I may play mild bumblepuppy, orev


The western Avernus; . f fat cattle and plentiful horses, I said to myself, I shall soon be in El Dorado, where, perhaps, there isa library with books to be read ; perhaps there may bemen who are civilised and educated, even so far thedelightful victims of our pleasures as to be acquaintedwith chess. Then, instead of playing draughts on atree stump, rudely marked out with a burnt stick, in theprimaeval forest, I may sit by a fire, with a cup ofcoffee near at hand and a pipe of good tobacco, andastonish my opponent with a crafty Muzio or a well-played Evans. Or I may play mild bumblepuppy, oreven whist, instead of fierce poker, or insidious euchre,or assassinating cut-throat But now it seemed thatmy airy visions and dream-castles were to be shockedand shaken down. My library of books eager to beread, my chess-table with opponent waiting, my smokingcup of coffee, vanished from my imagination when oncemore a tremendous barrier of rock and mountain, thrusthigh into the black clouds above, came before me and 138. Through the Fraser Canon shut me for a time, immeasurable until passed through,from level land, if such there were, and from coast andPacific, whose imagined roar was driven from my earsby sound of wind and river. For the Cascades were in front of me, frowning, andthe Thompson ran mockingly past, while I toiledslowly up the road into the labyrinth of hills. And yet I was light-hearted, for my feet were wholeand sound, and I heard again in my pocket the jingleof pleasant silver. The road, if steep at times, was atany rate well made, and the change from the cloudlessblue of the Dry Belt to the broken harmony of cloudand clear sky, mist and rain, and green of tree or grass,was sweet. So as I climbed I watched the frettingriver that had worn its way through these hills forthousands of years—for a geologic age perchance, andwhen I rested I sat on a fallen tree, under which, whenin its first youth and glory, perhaps the pioneer Indianwho found the pass had come, and


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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookpublisherwestm, bookyear1896