Epigraph: 'A land of camps where seldom is sojourning, Where men like the dim fathers of our race, Halt for a time, and next day, unreturning, Fare ever on apace. Last night how many a leaping blaze affrighted the wailing birds of passage in their file; And dawn sees ashes dead and imprints whitened, Where men had dwelt awhile.' - T. W. Heney
