--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Albert R. Lyman collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 17 number: 9 published: 1914-07 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'Albert R. Lyman, "Voice of the Intangible—XXVII," *Improvement Era* 17, no. 9 (July 1914): 842–848.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1709unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera1709unse start_page: 842 end_page: 848 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1914-07) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1709unse publication_year: 1914 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1914, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # Voice of the Intangible—XXVII Voice of the Intangible BY ALBERT R. LYMAN Chapter XXVII—Adios From the summit of Castle Hill, Ben discovered a lone horse- man coming down the wash. It was one o'clock in the afternoon and everything blistering hot, especially to a head covered by a red handkerchief instead of a hat, and for the sake of a little shade and to forestall any possible danger, young Rojer tied Deut in the shade of a cedar, and with his saddle-gun sprawled in the shade of a tree near by. From where he lay, chin in hands and elbows ploughing into the cedar leaves, he could view the approach to the hill from both sides for be it known that Something had whispered him to take ; no sleep or rest until he felt full permission to do so. He enjoyed the shade ten minutes before he recognized the horse as the hick- ory-hearted buckskin, and made bold to take the rider for Juan, and the dog following, for Mike. The guess was a good one. Half way down the hill he met the smiling "Chili con carne" and the glass-eyed wag-tail, both tickled to death to see him, as if he had come up from the grave. While the old dog frisked about Deut's feet, and barked, and tried to climb up into the saddle, — that brown Mexican face and those black Castillian eyes, beamed with a satisfaction so genu- ine that Ben had to wink hard to keep back the tears. He knew the Mexican way is to embrace, and he knew Juan felt the im- pulse strongly at that moment, but the embrace was a sacred thing; he had shared it with one man only, so he thrust out his hand instead. Rido grasped it firmly, and why not? though these had been parted but thirty hours. Had not young Rojer passed a mighty climax in that time, and met the dread spectre of years? He had not only met it, but defeated it according to the most honorable standards of battle. Of course, Juan had small idea of the victory, yet it came up to his loftiest notion of triumph ; Ben was alive, hatless and for coatless to be sure, but still unhurt. Whether any man lay rotting back over the hill, was a matter of minor import, yet the more that rotted, the merrier. "When I see you didn't got to camp last night," he began, "I didn't sleep a dem wing; an' when it got mornin' I jus' told 'em I was comin,' an' piled on de ole yellar an' hit de trail dis way." VOICE OF THE INTANGIBLE 843 "But what the world could you have done?" "I was follow your track, an' if dey have kill you, I was kill every one of de whole tribe," and in his energy he got most of his cuss-words wrong-side-to or bottom-side-up, in such a way as to give Ben's smiling muscles a slow contraction. "I can't swear United States perty good," he apologized, "but I don't got no flies on my Mexican cussing." When young Rojer had swung down and patted the old pup, he left him to bring up the rear, while he and Juan made good time through Castle Gulch and over Clay Hill. West & Co. had made camp at Dripping Spring when the two rode up and their supper-time dovetailed nicely into Ben's plans. "Well, I see they didn't git you," ventured the man from Snicksville, "did you git any of them?" "I left 'em a-foot," answered Ben getting up from supper, "but Juan can tell you about it I'm going to Peavine yet to- ; night." Juan, of course, had heard the whole story, that is, all he could understand of it, knowing nothing of the Intangible. The parting with West & Co., was perfunctory, but when young Rojer came to Juan, he felt a real pang of regret, and hung on to the brown hand thoughtfully, "You've always been honest and willing, and—" Ben hesitated under the curious stare of West's men. "here's old Jings, take 'im to be your horse, and when you ride 'im, remember that I liked your work and gave Jings to prove it." Rido objected, and the moist eyes betrayed the return of that embracing impulse. However, he finally consented on condition that Ben would wear his own stiff sombrero, in place of the knot- ted handkerchief. With the pack on Flossy, himself on Snip, Deut trotting free, and Mike joyfully bringing up the rear, Ben wore the som- brero and started away alone into the night, among the dear old cedars of the Ridge. For all that he was sleepy, and weary and drilled down like an old horse, he endured the motion of a lively trot till one or two o'clock in the morning. He drew reign in the quakingasp grove of Peavine Spring. The pack and saddles came off without delay, three pairs of hob- bles were pressed into service, a blanket bed made into shape. Then in the same spot where Fred Rojer took such pains to teach his son of the inspiration which comes to the spirit of man, that same little son, now grown tall, bowed in prayer by his pillow, and lowered his head to a rest which he knew would not be disturbed by man or beast. Morning on the Elk mountain is always a glorious thing, but Ben thought it never so lovely as when its gentle whispers stirred — 844 IMPROVEMENT ERA him to consciousness that time in June. It cooed to him in its — motherly way, and told him he was free, more free than he had ever been, and ready to enter upon greater labors than he had known hitherto. He felt no need of hurry, he could leave the mountain that day or the next as he chose and while he went over the situa- ; tion, considering the complete and glorious nature of his vic- tory, he thought it fitting and appropriate that the day be given over to communion with the Intangible, as a sort of thanksgiv- ing. There were nooks on the mountain from which a voice had called when he had no time to go now he would visit them, and ; hear all they had to say. When he had saddled Flossy and started off with Mike at her heels, he cared little which direction she took, or how slowly she moved. "My time is mine to spend as I please," he mused, "I shall 'loose myself in these continuous woods' and hear the voice of her greenest depths." The mountain rose around him like a great, leafy garden of peace, and he felt to hurl himself into the maze of leaves and flowers, — get lost in them, — become a member of their loving brotherhood. He considered the blossoms and the sweet smell of the pines.— he looked thoughtfully at the clear water trickling be- low tangles of wild rose-bush, and wandered with his eye to the hillside where the deer may hide in the underbrush. "Oh what a heaven in which to live !" he whispered, "to rest and sleep in this air! or be a bird in an aspen tree, or a grouse in a towering pine! — But there is something greater, my father knew it he told me of it, and lo, I have found it the voice of God calling : to ears that hark deep in the stillness." Whether that voice came from the shady groves of oak and maple, or from the lofty limbs where the scented breezes — sighed and the mountain birds called, whether It dwelt in the swell of the wind, or the silence which followed, it yet found a way to travel from the wondrous lips which spoke it: "Be noble; be true; seek for the path of eternal exaltation. 'Build thee more stately mansions' while the years of earth are Riven fe thee." From the top of The Bear's Ears, he held long communion with the hazy distance towards Pagahrit,— recalled the thirst and weariness of that land, and the precious lessons they had been the means of teaching. Then he rode out to an abrupt break on Kigaly Point dropped Flossy's reins over a limb, and stretched on his back in the shade of a pine. He was a part of the harmony of the o- re en mountain.— it dwelt in his eyes and his ears,— it found glad "place in his blood and his heart and his mind. He had not looked lon°- at the needly boughs above, till his weary, sleep-craving soul — VOICE OF THE INTANGIBLE 845 surrendered to the magic of the great lullaby, and he saw and heard with the strange eyes and ears it provided. Immediately a robed choir appeared above him in the air. • They must have been lower than the top of the pine, and the wonderful chant of their anthem seemed to bear him away with its echoes. Then their song of the air became the glad shout of romping children, and their flowing robes were trans- formed to short dresses and little trousers. The dream had changed — old Deut and another brown pulled the plow across the vir- gin prairie, and three little rompers played in the up- turned soil. Ben himself walked in the new furrow he ; heard himself cluck to Deut and his mate he saw his own ; hands on the lines and the plow-handle. Also, he felt for the three toddling tots, a love which none but a father may know. At the head of the plowed a wagon, sat a young strip, by woman, wearing a spreading straw hat, and knitting a little stocking. She was fair, so far as the distance and the hat revealed her features, but while yet some distance from the wagon the team stopped to puff, for the ground was "Where the scented breezes heavy. sighed and the mountain birds When Ben sat on the called." plow-beam to rest, the three toddlers swarmed all over him like so many rolicking puppies. They climbed astride of his knees and hung around his neck, they chattered and crowed at perfect ease, and one of them called him "Papa." For his part he held their soft little hands and stroked their curly hair with genuine delight. But old Mike, looking jealously on from the outside, began to push his way into his master's caresses, by crowding the chil- dren aside. This breach of etiquette displeased Father Ben, and he condemned it so loudly and severly that he awakened himself, and saw his lone dog and horse looking wonderingly down upon him. " 84: > IMPROVEMENT ERA That these three romping tots lived nowhere but in a dream, was by no means a pleasant thing to discover. Young Rojer was also half angry with the old dog for waking him before he had seen the young woman's face, for he might have remembered it for future acquaintance. But still sleepy, he dozed again and saw the robed choir and heard them chant something about, "Never fear ; never doubt." From Dwarf Spring the next morning, young Rojer gazed far away beyond the Utah-line, into Colorado, New Mexico and Arizona, and instinctively the home-made song came to mind: "In the hazy distance, hidden from view, A voice is calling, 'I'm waiting for you.' "Come in, old boys," he said to his three-horse outfit, "she's over there somewhere," and Mike followed them down the trail on a brisk lope. It is now ten years since Ben Rojer met Juan Rido on Castle Hill. Ben is in the full vigor of firm-handed manhood. His three children like nothing better than to go with him to the field, and there "Ma" likes to put on her wide straw hat and go, too. Deut, though not active and swift as he used to be, is still able to hold his end of the double-tree with a brown mare very much like himself, and the three toddlers who follow along in the new, fresh earth, think Deut and Fan are the best team in the world. Jud Hiles is a thrifty farmer in the same prosperous neigh- DISPLAV OF NAVAJO BLANKETS — VOICE OF THE INTANGIBLE 847 oorhood. He drives every morning with his little tribe of husky boys to the field, where they learn to do things 'in a firm- jawed way, and love their father for the growing toes of the kindly crow-feet by his big brown eyes. If Jud meets Ben in the road, it is very likely the two will stop and talk, for they are fellows of a sturdy friendship pledged years ago by the flickering camp- fires of Pagahrit. In the wilds of Arizona, like an outcast, withered and worn, Montana is still hunting for a den in the earth where no voice will demand of him : "Where is thy brother !" Jimmy Baneehlizhen is a big medicine-man among his peo- ple, still "seeing God in clouds, and hearing him in the winds," still harking to the great Intangible which will sometime lead his benighted brethren to follow a better way. He makes it his busi- ness to see Ben once a year and his visits have inspired Mrs. Rojer with a growing respect for her brown brother-in-law. Things are still "goin' agin" Josh Widder. He believes men have conspired to deny him their company and their confidence, and to ambush him with disappointment and rejection at every turn in the road. And yet, that small germ of manhood, which in some strange way appealed on the last trip to Ben, is slowly grow- ing among the tangled weeds of Widder's nature. More than once since he left Pagahrit, his feelings have been worked upon by strength of arm, and he has shown vague notions of reforma- tion. Those notions so far, however, have lost themselves on the great barrier of dishonest practice and dishonorable ways, built up by a thick-nosed young-manhood around a decaying old age. This part of the story would be wanting for some account of Juan Rido, but for a letter he recently wrote to Ben, telling how old Jings had just died, and how, "I don't got no sorey fer de por ol hors, but I shur lov de man what gives hem to me." He stated further that he lived on a ranch in New Mexico, — that he had a small family and a bunch of cattle and though he didn't take the ; trouble to say so, there is little doubt that in the evening he trots his little black-eyed toddlers on his knee and sings, "Chili con came y leche con pan." The frowning displeasure of the Intangible has long since driven Soorowits forth, broken-down and nervous, from the fast- nesses of his exile. He complained that the night cursed him, that the clouds scowled upon him, the very lizards on the hot rocks peeped over and laughed at his misfortunes, till he sued for peace. When his prayer was granted, for it transpired that for some trifling technicality the legal proceeding against him were not legal at all, he sought out Ben's new home, and offered his grimy old hand for a friendly shake. He got it. The "smiling, damned villian," and the snake-eyed snorter, availed themselves of this : ; 848 IMPROVEMENT ERA .same assurance, and went back to their wickiups to live the lives of righteous Pahutes, who hold it a sin to steal .and be caught. It would be a pleasure to write the next chapter of this story to report that the germ of manhood has triumphed in Josh Wid- der, till he could appreciate and return Ben's good will; to report further that Jimmy Banechlizhcn had helped to accomplish among his people, the mighty change for the better, which civilization so little expects. It would be a pleasure to relate that Ben had become all which manhood means to him, and met his father in "the hazy distance." But years must elapse for that chapter to be acted out before it may be written at all. Life itself will no more than suffice to make good Ben's ambition a great God-feeling which : comes powerfully upon him from the whole expanse of earth and sky, both while he labors in the field, and while he plays with his romping tots at home. When his day's plowing is finished and he drives towards the new prairie village, — when he looks towards the red sky above the sinking sun, that ambition comes forcibly back to his mind, and he sings "In the hazy distance, hidden from view, A voice is calling, 'I'm waiting for you.' " Then from the responsive west, a wind seems to bring again the words: "You'll join me there afterwhile, and when I meet you I want to meet a man, not a thing — a true man who has stood every test the Lord prepared." And a resolution is enkindled for the thousandth time in Ben Rojer's breast, —a resolution which in words would be: "When he meets me, my life must have been such that he cannot refrain from saying, 'Son I'm proud of you.' " THE END