MoRNING ON THE BLACK TUsK MEADOWs—(Continued from
Page 44)

hums threateningly in his ear. A misplaced slap awakens him com-
pletely, and he greets the sun, now showing through a saffron sky
over the Ridge, with a drowsy blink. He struggles out of his blank-
ets, reaching for one or two necessary draperies with a pajama-clad
arm. A stretch, a yawn, and he is on his feet, and making his way
across the meadows to the creek for his ablutions.
A few hundred yards from the camp a mountain stream hurls itself
in joyous leaps down from the melting snows a scant quarter-mile
above. The descent is very precipitous, and very rocky, and the water
foams and sizzles industriously on its journey. At the steepest part of
its course, it flows through a small ravine in a series of falls. It is here
that the Youth is coming.
There is one fall larger than the others. The water slides forcefully
over a large moss-covered rock, to fall into a pool some five feet in
diameter. The Youth stops beside this pool; his scant attire is dis-
carded in a moment, and he drops into the foaming waters.
For a very short space he soaps and scrubs energetically, gasping the
while with the shock of the icy coldness of his bath. Then a quick
plunge under the waterfall itself, and he leaps out on to a conveni-
ently placed rock beside the pool. The coarse fibres of his towel,
wielded enthusiastically, replace the tingling shock of the water with
a soothing glow of cleanliness, and the Youth stretches luxuriously,
and sprawls for a time on the rock, in the rays of the sun. A feeling
of supreme content wells up within him; a light-heartedness and a
sense of utter irresponsibility, a care-free happiness permeates his
being; everything is most assuredly at it’s very best in this very best
of possible heavens.
Necessary impedimenta in the way of clothes are donned at last.
Humming joyous extracts from light operas by way of morning
anthems, he wanders back to camp, feeling with each step on the
ground an indefinable sense of being not merely a spectator in this,
Nature’s magnificent display, but an essential part of it all: a feeling
of absolute unity with all the gorgeous manifestations of the sur-
roundings.
The sight of the camp brings him down to more mundane aspects of
life. He sees the others awake and stirring; the Boy is coming towards
him, bound for the pool he has just left; in the other direction stalks
the Artist, heading for another favored bathing place; in front of
the revived fire stoops the Master, solemnly performing with the
various utensils, and producing therefrom what will soon constitute
breakfast. A stray breeze brings to the Youth’s nostrils the enticing
aroma of coffee, and porridge, and bacon sputtering in a pan. He
Wastes no time; a few more steps, and he is back, ravenous with an

appetite born of the keen mountain air and the vitalizing waters of
the creek.

[ 63 ]

]

emer