She is here; and the trappings of the wanderers
are on board. The young wild man stands alone upon the upper deck. His
eyes pierce to where stands the sylph he leaves with reluctance. She is
looking at him. He lifts his cap and bows farewell. She waves her
kerchief in return. The steamer speeds away. They are parted. Has that
brief interview left an impression upon those two young hearts to
endure beyond a day? Will she dream of the dark beard, curled and
flowing--of the darker eye which looked and spoke? and will the wild
story of the western wilderness come in the silent darkness of her
chamber, and make her nestle closer to her pillow? Will her heart ask:
"Shall I ever meet him again?"
He has gone away; a waif about the land--a feather on the world, driven
about, as destiny impels, without fixed intentions; yet buoyant with
the ardor of youth, and happy in the excess of youthful hopes, dreamy
and wild adventures. He has tasted the savage love of woods and wilds,
and the nature--which was born thousands of years ere the teachings of
civilization had tamed the wild man into an educated, home-loving
being--revives, and the two struggle for mastery in his heart.
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