The Quest of the Four

A tall boy, dreaming dreams, was walking across the Place d'Armes in New Orleans. It was a brilliant day in early spring, and a dazzling sunlight fell over the city, gilding the wood or stone of the houses, and turning the muddy current of the Mississippi into shimmering gold. Under such a perfect blue sky, and bathed in such showers of shining beams, New Orleans, a city of great and varied life, looked quaint, picturesque, and beautiful. But the boy, at that moment, thought little of the houses or people about him. His mind roamed into the vast Southwest, over mountains, plains, and deserts that his feet had never trod, and he sought, almost with the power of evocation, to produce regions that he had never seen, but which he had often heard described. He had forgotten no detail of the stories, but, despite them, the cloud of mystery and romance remained, calling to him all the more strongly because he had come upon a quest the most vital of his life, a quest that must lead him into the great unknown land.