t have I been,
Sitting alone, a happy little maid,
Waiting to see, cheery and unafraid,
My father's boat come in,--

Close to the water's edge
Holding a tiny spark, that he might steer
(So dangerous the landing far and near)
Safe past the ragged ledge!

No fears had I, not one.
The wild, wide waste of water leagues around
Washed ceaselessly, there was no human sound,
And I was all alone.

But Nature was so kind!
Like a dear friend I loved the loneliness;
My heart rose glad, as at some sweet caress,
When passed the wandering wind.

Yet it was joy to hear
From out the darkness sounds grow clear at last,
Of rattling rowlocks, and of creaking mast,
And voices drawing near.

"Is't thou, dear father? Say!"
What well-known shout resounded in reply,
As loomed the tall sail, smitten suddenly
With the great light-house ray!

I will be patient now,
Dear Heavenly Father, waiting here for Thee!
I know the darkness holds Thee! Shall I be
Afraid, when it is Thou?

On Thy eternal shore,
In pauses, when Life's tide is at its prime,
I hear the everlasting rote of Time
Beating forevermore!

Shall I not, then, rejoice?
Oh, never lost or sad should child of Thine
Sit weeping, fearing lest there come no sign,
No whisper of Thy voice!

ON HORSEBACK INTO OREGON.

After our return from the Yo-Semite Valley, Bierstadt and myself
remained in San Francisco, or its delightful neighborhood, making short
excursions around and across the bay, for more than a fortnight. But
this lotus-eating life soon palled. We burned to see the giant Shasta,
and grew thirsty for the eternal snows of the Cascade Peaks still
farther north. So much of a horseback-ride to the Columbia as brought us
into Oregon I here propose to sketch in brief.

The rest of our party had become sated with travel and gone home. One
glorious September day we took our saddle-bags, note-books, and
color-boxes, put our horses on board the Sacramento steamer, and,
without other baggage or company of any sort, set out for the Columbia
River and Vancouver's Island.

At Sacramento, on the next morning after leaving San Francisco, we
shifted our quarters to a smaller and light-draught boat which was to
take us up the shallow r