St. Nicholas, Vol. 13, No. 10, August 1886

The story opens with a weary rider emerging from a canyon into bright afternoon light, where the plaintive whistle of a hidden curlew summons a vivid memory of a distant boy back east. That fleeting song awakens the narrator’s longing for human connection, prompting him to recount his solitary existence high in the Wyoming Rockies. He describes a lone log cabin perched beside a sprawling alpine meadow, a personal hermitage that feels both majestic and isolated.

Within the sweeping pine‑clad peaks and snow‑capped summits, the hermit supplies his readers with vivid sketches of the landscape—crags, wildflower‑strewn valleys, and the “parks” that carve gentle hollows into the stone. Though accompanied only by a horse and a dog, he finds comfort in the occasional letters that travel fifty miles to the nearest post office, linking his remote world to the outside. The narration invites listeners to share his quiet adventures, the rhythms of ranch round‑ups, and the simple yet profound wonder of living a modern‑day Crusoe amid the wild.