Of course it isn't. But I used to
feel that way. When I was in my second year at Berkeley I had a brain
storm like that. I took the train north and turned up at home--we had
a camp running on Thurlow Island then. Daddy read the riot act and
sent me back on the next steamer. It was funny--just an irresistible
impulse to get back to my own country, among my own people. I often
wonder if it isn't some such instinct that keeps sailors at sea, no
matter what the sea does to them. I have sat on that ridge"--she
pointed unerringly to the first summit above Hollister's timber,
straight back and high above the rim of the great cliff south of the
Big Bend--"and felt as if I had drunk a lot of wine; just to be away
up in that clear still air, with not a living soul near and the
mountains standing all around like the pyramids."
"Do you know that you have a wonderful sense of direction, Doris?"
Hollister said. "You pointed to the highest part of that ridge as
straight as if you could see it."
"I do see it," she smiled, "I mean I know where I am, and I have in my
mind a very clear picture of my surroundings always, so long as I am
on familiar ground.
Pages:
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183