I cannot now remember the exact time or year. Attracted by
the light-hearted, cheerful, and dare-devil spirit of this ambitious
and cultured young man, I joined a military organization, of which he
was then a lieutenant and later the captain, this was Company F of
Prescott Grays, National Guard of Arizona. Poor, noble-hearted,
generous Buckie--he knew it not, but this was his first step on the
path of glory leading to the altar of patriotism whereon he laid his
life. It was he who, with a poet's inspiration, first divined the
mystery of the mountain which I have before alluded to. He likened
this beautiful mound to a sleeping lion who guarded the destinies of
the mountain city. Poor friend, his glorious song stirred the dormant
life in the metallic veins of the Butte and, wonder of wonders, the
sleeping lion awoke, the poet's lay had brought the Sphinx to
life--the die of fate was cast and he had sealed his doom! When I
read his beautiful poem, I gasped in wonder, for only I on earth
fathomed the significance of this revelation. This dream of a poet's
fanciful soul, soaring on the wings of Pegasus, was stern reality to
me and anxiously I awaited developments. Nor waited I in vain.
The grateful Sphinx showered honor and wealth upon my friend.
Pages:
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125