| OCR Text |
Show 558. The book evades the issue somewhat by making Billy, the "proud shepherd," play Sancho Panza, whose aphorisms spice the narrative. Like Sancho, Billy hoped one day to govern his own realm. But the shepherd was doomed to servitude. For, though stimulated at times by hopes of one day owning a flock and getting rich like his boss, he at the same time is likely to be degraded by the life he leads, and seldom reaches the dignity or advantage - or disadvantage - of ownership. In fact, Muir developed Billy's portrait from the picture of lumbermen which he drew in "Puget Sound" and "American Forests." In this book, he allowed the hired hand to wax philosophical. Billy was totally insensitive to Nature. Of the sacred fern forests, he said, "Oh, they're only d d big brakes." When Muir tried to entice him to go see the Valley, "what," he said, "is Yosemite but a canon - a lot of rocks - a hole in the ground - a place dangerous about falling into - a d d good place to keep away from." Even when Muir worked on him, "like a missionary offering the gospel," he only replied, "You can't humbug me. I've been in this country too long for that." In other words, he was humorously but hopelessly degraded. His lack of interest in anything he couldn't eat failed to guarantee that he would be a good shepherd. On the Fourth of July, while Muir and Billy waited anxiously for the Don to bring food for the camp, they were forced to eat their own mutton, which neither of them could stomach. A nice irony |
