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[[start page]] She was amazed when I told her how far have walked. Camped several miles on under hemlock tree at spring. Kept fire (what a change)hot grub etc. At lady's advice had corned beef and cabbage. [[blue line separating days' entries]] In morning went on and am now at "Inspiration Point" near Mombasha lake. Being a poet, I can't let such a challenge go by, so I let the cogs turn and out comes this pastoral sonnet, no masterpiece to be sure. [[end page]] [[start page]] On Inspiration Point [[Title]] Jumbled green hills, across a wide expanse of mtn. land where songbirds sweetly sing And countless hordes of new grown foliage dance Upon the blithesome zephyr breeze of spring. The warbling of A woodthrush [[strikethrough]] warbles somewhere [[/strikethrough]] far below A flicker calls in harsh stacatto tone These hills were much the same long years ago When first the restless hearted white man came The rauccous calling of a fledgling crow Waft upward to this loft ledge of stone